#i dunno anyways. consult coming up and i CAN pay for it i HAVE the money but hough surgery itself is all up in the air until then

[talkorsomething]

Actually i feel like my voice goals are not that unreasonable since the people i get jealous of the most really are my age or older

......

Well, reasonable though they may be, realistic is another matter

[bisluthq]

Are you guys around the same age or is there an age gap? Ever since that one anon asked increasingly weird questions when you first came back, I don’t know how to ask you things without sounding creepy 😭

we have a fairly significant age gap (he’s older than me). I think when you’re both adults in fairly similar spaces in your life with similar goals and visions, it doesn’t much matter. We do have a financial gap, which in large part is the result of the age gap I suppose because he’s had more time to do stuff, but we just contribute to things proportional to our incomes and like if he were say a consultant at McKinsey and even a little younger than me that’d also be the case. I think I’m just a lil sensitive to it because of the age gap and possible optics thereof but so is he so as I say we contribute proportionally and are very open about finances. If we stay together, we can see us having a slight problem when he starts thinking about retirement (not happening soon but like one day) because the age gap would mean I probably wouldn’t be ready then. It’s a conversation we’ve had though and like since I mostly work remotely anyway, I dunno that it’d make a hell of a difference for that odd decade or so where I’m still working and he maybe isn’t.

Evidently I’m not anti age gaps, but I think a lot more thought has to go into a relationship where one is involved and that - for me, a consistently fickle and impulsive individual - has been really good. I also think if you’re in different life stages when it starts or you’re just very young (I mean 19 and 25 is 6 years but a bad idea and 33 and 39 isn’t even an age gap) then I’d personally pass on it. This is my first AGR.

When my ex and I moved in together, it was sorta on accident like we realized having two apartments was just not making fiscal sense and we both had roommates and we were like “why aren’t we each other’s roommates lmao” and leases were coming up to a close and so we just did it. We never properly discussed plans. When he and I moved in together, we spent a lot of time on like logistics and responsibilities and who would do what and who would pay for what and implications and consequences and shit. Part of it is we’ve both been burned before (he’s divorced, I have that ex) and part of it is imho the age gap and the fact that he doesn’t have as much time to fuck around lol and like if our visions are not aligning then it’s less worth it for him because I don’t think he wants like another failed serious relationship at his big age.

[ask-a-vetblr]

Hi everyone! I’m a 3rd year vet student heading into my clinical rotations in February 2022. Wondering if any of you might have some advice on how to… I dunno, survive? 😅

Hi, Sueanoi here.

My first and foremost advice for stressed vet students all around the world... is DO NOT SACRIFICE SLEEP. I learned that the hard way.

You need sleep. Those extra few hours that you might try to spend reading last minute wont get you more ready. Not sleeping will make your brain feel like swimming in molasses. It slows your thinking, and you won't be able to recall info as efficiently.

I'm sure students at year 3 should already know their body's limit. I promise, your limit is still there. I won't tell you how many hours you need, you know your body better. Get those hours.

Second, don't skip meals. Try to at least get some snack if you can't get out to get a real meal. Being hungry will lower your performance and make you more nervous.

Third, you should check your course syllabus, and prepare in advance. Those early years of vet school had given you the raw data, this year you will learn how to pull those data to good use. You will learn how to systematically follow clues and solve problems according to those info that you now have.

I suggest getting a handbook with differential diagnosis techniques. It's very useful for me when I was starting out. It's like a hint book on what to do if you're stuck.

next is, you should pay good attention on how the supervisor vets talk to their clients. This is an important soft skill that often are not included in any other lessons. Learn how to handle different kinds of clients and different emotions. Clinical rotation is the perfect opportunity for you to learn by example, and also learn by doing.

Lastly, don't be afraid to ask for consultants. You are here to learn. If you're not sure, be honest and ask for help.

And, good luck! It's not as scary as you think! In fact, I think it's pretty fun, looking back. You get to exercise that brain of yours without the risk of actually facing the consequence of messing something up. You have someone who has your back. So go out there and learn!

GV here.

I went to vet school in the midwest and have now worked for 2 practices that take students on external rotations for other schools (specifically, Virginia Tech and Lincoln Memorial). It seems as though my experiences in 4th year are veeeeery different from theirs - Lincoln Memorial does not, strictly speaking, have a teaching hospital, so most of their rotations must be done at external clinics, and Virginia Tech is struggling with staffing issues and many students opt to take many rotations externally to have a higher case load. At any rate, that’s just for perspective on where my thoughts will come from!

At my vet school, the expectation is that you would show up having prepared for your day’s cases, if you knew them ahead of time. Usually we would sign up for or be assigned cases the day before, but we may not have any history on the patient or even much detail on the presenting complaint (“referral from rDVM for urinary tract issues” or something similar might be all that we got until the client brought the history from their referring vet the next morning). The main thing is that if there *is* a thorough history (i.e. you’re on anesthesia and internal medicine has already done a thorough workup on your patient) then you had better KNOW YOUR PATIENT’S HISTORY and be able to discuss the pathogenesis, how it will affect their procedure, etc. But, sometimes you are going to be looking things up on the fly - you’ve gone in, gotten your history, read through the rDVM notes and diagnostic results, and now you have to go present to the clinician. A few things will come in handy here. First, a student subscription to VIN is free. VIN is mostly all I have used while being a solo doc in my first practice and where I learned my treatments and diagnostics for most ailments. You can type in symptoms, differentials, etc and normally get some kind of idea of how to proceed from either their specifically written articles or from the forums. Another great resource which you will have to pay for but is inexpensive for students, is Plumb’s, especially the app. The clinicians are probably going to make you look up doses for any drugs anyway, so it’s useful in that regard, but when you’re looking for ideas for treatment, you can actually type in symptoms to the search bar and drugs related to the symptom (i.e. PU/PD) will pop up so that can actually give you some good ideas for differentials as well.

The main thing I am looking for in a vet student when they’re on rotation with me is curiosity and a willingness to come each day prepared if possible, and look things up if you don’t know the answer. I’m not going to look down on you if you’ve never given a vaccine before, but I’m definitely going to have issues if we give you lots of opportunities to vaccinate and you start dodging them because “you’ve had enough experience now.” I’m not going to be upset if you don’t know doses for drugs off the top of your head or even which specific drug to use, but if I ask you again later I expect you to have looked it up. If I offer you the chance to do a surgery with me, I expect you to have studied the procedure the night before. Don’t ask me to fill out a form stating that you performed a task if I didn’t see you do it, and don’t ask me to sign off on a discussion item that we never discussed. The only time I’ll be disappointed in your knowledge (or lack thereof) is if you literally can’t offer any suggestions at all, or if I’ve asked you to look something up and get back to me and you never do. The only time I’ll be disappointed in your skills is if I’ve told you something (don’t stand on the leg side of a down cow) and you do it again anyway. Also, definitely don’t cuss out your doctor when I ask you to follow up with a patient. (true story!)

[peanutpinet]

Lucas x Reader (mafia)

A/N: I dunno if this is a bad thing or not but I immediately got an idea from this writing prompt I found on Pinterest where character A found out character B got into a "fight" and got hurt then character A swipe their thumb across character B's bloodied lip and asked "Who did this to you", kay I'm weak

Alright, I'm a bit emotional because I had just submitted my final assignment and sorta used Lucas' name in my assignment but immediately jumping straight here XD

Theme: abuse (just a bit but I still put it out here), scary Lucas and some fluff!!

Kay, for this scenario, I, once again, imagine that Lucas is the head of the WayV unit of the NCT mafia. Also, to clarify, the NCT mafia that I imagine doesn't really do anything bad. Instead, they are more so a group that the government decided to build to serve the world but doesn't necessarily follow the rules; something like a secret agency but wilder.

Anyways, everyone in the business world practically knows who NCT is, who the members are and that NCT are always watching. No matter what business they are, wherever they are, NCT has eyes everywhere. Which is why no one dared to question them and would never try to challenge them in any shape or form.

With that being said it didn't mean that NCT was never harmed or was never targeted by other mafias that were trying to run illegal businesses all over the world. It's just that they were always unsuccessful when it came to challenging NCT because NCT would always be one step ahead of them.

Which was why when someone harmed you, Lucas' girlfriend, it nearly shook the entire NCT. Okay, let's rewind how it all happened and actually put some context to how you guys met and how your relationship became what it is.

So, just as the previous Lucas fic I did, you were just a college student while Lucas, is the head of the WayV unit, a sub-unit of NCT that mainly takes care of business in China/Hongkong/Taiwan/Southeast Asian countries. You were in your 2nd year of college when you met Lucas. It was an accident, really.

You were walking back to your dorm after hanging out with your friends who weren't living at the dorm. You told them that the dorm was nearby and you would be fine on your own; adding that you have been taking some self-defence class. But unfortunately, tonight was just not your night, or was it?

You were almost by your dorm's gate when a gang of motorcycles rushed past you, one of them grabbing your bag while you tried to hold onto it. Unfortunately, you were overpowered and ended up falling on your butt while the gang of motorcycles were cheering until another gang of motorcycles and cars blocked their path.

And of course, one of them was Lucas. Lucas came out of the car and confronted the low gang motorcycles, telling them off unless they wanted to take it further which by the look of the gang, they were not expecting the NCT to come and deal with them since normally, it would be the police.

"I'm only going to tell you off just once. Stand down and stay where you are unless you want this problem to escalate further" Lucas growled at the motorcycle gang who just stood their stance

"Round them up. Now, which one of you, ahh, there you are" Lucas mentioned, grabbing your bag which the gang stole

Honestly, you were just stunned. You weren't expecting two different gangs to be doing this late at night and on a school night at that. You just sat on the ground watching the whole scene unveil until Lucas went up to you, extending his hand out which you nervously grabbed.

"You alright? This must be yours" Lucas stated, handing you your bag while your hand was still in his

"Huh? Oh, yea, thank you. Ar-are you like with the police or like is this a gang fight because if it is then I better go back to my dorm..." you stuttered, earning a chuckle from Lucas

"No. We're not really with the police but we're also not really fighting that gang. You can definitely say we're a gang but our gang doesn't really do those bad things. We're more so, cleaning up the trash" Lucas chuckled

"Oh, okay then. Um, thanks again for this" you uttered, shyly looking away

"Anytime. Take care. May our paths cross again someday" Lucas commented, letting go of your hand and heading back to his group

And cross paths you both did. Truth was that Lucas secretly spied on you because you left that much of an impression on him. It didn't take long for Lucas to finally came and told you how he felt because that night he saw you walking back to your dorm, alone, again. Worried that something similar would happen again, he didn't hesitate to come up to you and walked you back.

From walking you back to your dorm, to exchanging contacts and 'i love you' to now, almost a full year of dating. Throughout the whole year, Lucas slowly introduced you to all of NCT. Starting from WayV to the Dreamies who were closer to your age along with some new members (Sungchan and Shotaro) before NCT 127. At this point, everyone in NCT knows that you and Lucas were a thing and was even happy for y'alls relationship, supporting you every step of the way(V); especially the WayV members.

From the beginning of your relationship, Lucas would already tell you what he does and that he promise you that he would never let anyone harm you; and even if they did, they would pay for it. Lucas also told you that he would never exclude you from your life just because you were dating him and you would have every right to do whatever you wanted to do (just with some additional protections).

Lucas and the other NCT members also allowed for you to come to visit them at their headquarters or even at their own apartments whenever you wanted to (remember the visit to Lucas' apartment, yea). And today was one of those days.

After the incident on campus, Lucas made sure that he would be the one to pick you up and drop you off to campus since you practically moved in with him after the incident. If he couldn't make it, he would have someone from NCT do so. They would even accompany you wherever you wanted to go because to them, it was an excuse to get out from the boring meetings that occurred too regularly.

Today, Xiaojun and Hendery were the ones to pick you up because they were passing by your campus. You texted the two boys that you were just going to have a consultation with your lecturer for your final paper and told them to wait for 15 minutes.

But while Lucas did his best to make sure you were unharmed by anyone involved in NCT, there were just some things out of his control. Because as it turns out, your "consultation" turned to be a trap. There was a rumour going around your college about the literature lecturer abusing female students but there was never any proof so no one really believed the rumour, yourself included.

WARNING!! IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE READING ABOUT ABUSIVE BEHAVIOUR, PLEASE SKIP THIS PART!!

When you went into the lecturer's room, you were quick to notice something was off. How your lecturer purposely brushed his hand over yours, leaning his head a bit too forward to your liking and finding excuses to get closer to you. Just when you were saved by a phone call from Xiaojun, your lecturer was also quick to notice your behaviour. He grabbed your phone and throwing it off your hand before pinning you to the door, locking it.

You tried your best to fight off with the self-defence lessons you took and learnt from some members of NCT but once again, when you're faced with the actual situation, sometimes, it doesn't turn out how you expected. While you managed to kick your lecturer and got free of his grip, you failed your escape as your lecturer yanked your hair back, making you hit your head on his desk before being welcomed with a hard slap that cut your lip.

Over at Xiaojun and Hendery's side, the second you didn't answer their 5th call, they knew something was wrong. Pulling out the GPS for the tracker they put in your phone, they followed it and arrived in front of the literature's office. Hearing grunts and screams, both Xiaojun and Hendery didn't waste any time on breaking the door.

Entering the room, Xiaojun was quick to pull the lecturer off and gave him a hard punch whilst Hendery went to see your weak figure by the desk, ripped shirt, cut lip and bruises covering most of your body. Hendery immediately took his jacket off and putting it around you, calling out to Xiaojun to get out of there.

Kay, you can continue reading from here!!

"Oi!! Xiaojun!! We should go now!!" Hendery called out

"Shouldn't we grab the douche as well? Lucas would want to have a word with him" Xiaojun complained, grabbing the passed out lecturer by the collar

"We can always track him again. The problem is getting (Y/N) to safety. C'mon!!" Hendery protested, holding your figure firmly

"Fine. He's dead sooner than later" Xiaojun sighed, throwing the lecturer on the ground, helping Hendery bring you back to headquarters

Upon arriving, the three of you were greeted by some of the dreamies and WayV members, mainly Renjun, Jeno, Ten and Winwin. The four of them were informed by Hendery that you were going to need some treatment as soon as possible before Lucas finds out about the situation. Renjun and Jeno were quick to take you from Hendery and Xiaojun, helping you to the treatment room where Ten and Winwin were.

"No one informed the others or Taeyong or even Lucas about this, right?" Xiaojun asked

"Lucas and Taeyong are out with the 'Make A Wish' unit to finish with the business contract. Depending on how that go, Lucas can either be very pissed when he finds out or..." Renjun mentioned

"Or he could be ready to kill you both" Ten blurted, helping to treat the bruises on your arm and legs while Winwin have a look on your face

"Guys!! They're back!!" Jeno stated, making everyone in the room tense while you were somewhat asleep

"Quick!! We have to move her to a different room, they're for sure going to come here first" Hendery mentioned

"Who do you have to move and why?" everyone heard Jaehyun mentioned

"Jae...hyun-hyung...and Lucas-hyung, hey!!!" Renjun stuttered as the others were trying to cover you from their sight

"Why are there 6 of you here? Xiaojun and Hendery too? Is (Y/N) resting somewhere? In the kitchen?" Lucas questioned as everyone nervously sweats

"Ummm, yea, she's resting. She said she was extremely tired. Her classes finished a bit late. We had to wait for a good hour when we arrived" Hendery nervously answered

"Weird. I would normally get a text from her. Maybe she's napping" Lucas sighed, looking at his phone

"Lu...cas..." you mumbled as the boys tried to cover it up

"Huahhh, Lucas-hyung. Jaehyun-hyung. You must be tired. How did the meeting go?" Jeno tried to divert the conversation

"Wait, that, sounded like (Y/N). Is she napping here?" Lucas asked, trying to look around as the others blocked his view

"What? No!!! She's in your resting room" Renjun argued

"Lucas? Jaehyun? Taeyong wants us to have a quick meeting right now" everyone heard Doyoung mentioned

"Doyoung-hyung!! How did the mission go?" Xiaojun asked as Doyoung went into the room

"Not that good. Which is why Taeyong wants a meeting on our plans for the next step. C'mon, we have to go" Doyoung ranted, pulling both Lucas and Jaehyun out of the room

"Tell (Y/N) to see me in my office later!!" Lucas stated before being dragged out of the room with Jaehyun

"You got it!!" everyone muttered

"Ten-hyung, Winwin-hyung, please be quick!! Hang in there (Y/N)" Jeno mumbled as the two older men treated you

Time skip for an hour or so

"We did everything we could. She has to see him either way" Ten argued

"He's going to kill us" Hendery reasoned

"Well, you might as well tell him now before he finds out on his own. And maybe have the douche's location ready so he wouldn't lash out at you. Plus, if the both of you were there with her, he wouldn't kill you. He would never do it in front of her" Winwin stated

"They're right Hendery. We gotta tell him. At least we won't die that quickly if we tell him when (Y/N)'s with him" Xiaojun mentioned

"Alright, (Y/N), wakey wakey, let's see your boyfriend" Hendery groaned as he was about to wake you up but saw an empty bed

"UHHH!! Xiaojun?! Ten-hyung?! Winwin-hyung?! WHERE IS (Y/N)?!" Hendery panicked

"Where's Jeno and Renjun?!" Xiaojun questioned, looking back at the two older ones who shook their head

"Crap!! Hendery we gotta go, now!! Thank you for treating her!!" Xiaojun exclaimed, dragging Hendery out of the room to Lucas' office

At Lucas' office

"Hyung? Can we come in? (Y/N) is here" Renjun stated as Lucas perked from his chair

"Come on in!!!" Lucas exclaimed, ready to welcome you with a big hug especially since he already freshened up

However, Lucas was not expecting to see you still wearing the same clothing you did in the morning when he dropped you off to campus with Hendery's jacket around you. Not only that, the more he walked closer to you, the more evident the bruises on your body were. At this point, Lucas was more than ready to kill both Hendery and Xiaojun but he had to calm his nerves and take care of you first.

"(Y/N)...sweetheart, what happened? Who did this to you?" Lucas questioned, running his right thumb across your dry bloodied lip while his left hand was placed softly behind your head

"Please...please don't kill them" you managed to state, looking down from Lucas' gaze at the same time he heard loud footsteps coming to his office

"We can explain!!!" Hendery exclaimed as he and Xiaojun were panting when arriving by Lucas' doorframe

"In, both of you. Jeno, Renjun, you both can leave" Lucas stated as he brought your figure behind his desk, straddling you on his lap as Renjun and Jeno left

"Before you get mad at us. We have a good explanation" Hendery muttered

"It better be" Lucas growled but calmed down when you nuzzled your head on his neck, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders

After some explanation, Lucas was more than furious at what happened. Was the warning towards the bastard couple not enough to inform the campus that you were off-limits? What's more was that your so-called lecturer was a regular at one of NCT's bar and even part of the businessmen that didn't fully agree to the agreement they were dealing with.

"Wow. Talk about killing two birds with one stone" Lucas chuckled, wrapping his arm firmly around your waist, making sure you wouldn't fall since you were asleep

"You're not going to kill us, right?" Hendery asked

"If you both manage to get that bastard in the bar within half an hour, I'll reconsider it. And the both of you better come as well. Now get on it and explain everything to Taeyong-hyung as well. Go." Lucas instructed and the two immediately left the office

"Love. Do you want to sleep here or back home?" Lucas softly asked, bringing your face to meet his

"Hmm? Anywhere, as long as you're there" you yawned

"Do you mind staying at the base just for tonight? I have to deal with something" Lucas mumbled, brushing your hair off your face, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead

"Don't hurt Xiaojun and Hendery, okay? They helped me. It wasn't their fault for what happened. It was also not your fault, so don't blame yourself too" you muttered, nuzzling back into Lucas' neck, inhaling his signature scent

"If that's what you want. I won't hurt them. But I can't promise for your lecturer" Lucas sighed, patting your head

"He, he hurt others as well. He deserved to be hurt too" you sighed

"Is that so? Anything for you sweetheart. Now, I'll leave you with the dreamies and under 127's supervision, is that alright?" Lucas questioned tho it was more so a statement

"Hmm. Be careful, alright? Everyone has to come back safely" you mentioned, feeling a smirk forming on Lucas' face

"Will do sweetheart. Get some rest" Lucas mumbled, kissing the side temple of your face before carrying you to the dreamies' dorm, entrusting you with Jeno and Renjun

At the bar

"She alright?" Taeyong questioned, walking into the bar with Lucas and the 'Make a Wish' unit

"Yea. Left her with the rest of the dreamies. Sorry that we had to work this late" Lucas sighed

"It's alright hyung. We won't let anyone harm our sister and gets away with it" Jaemin mentioned

"You guys actually called her sister?" Lucas chuckled

"Of course!! She's the same age as most of us, dreamies. Plus, she's so much fun to be around with" Shotaro added

"They'll pay for what they did. Just look at them" Jaehyun chuckled, opening the door to their office in the bar, revealing Xiaojun and Hendery holding the lecturer and the other businessman down

"Wow, it really is killing two birds with one stone" Lucas smirked

"You, you can't kill us. The government wouldn't allow it!!" the leader spoke

"Oh? Who said anything about killing when you're already dead" Taeyong scoffed, sitting on the chair behind the desk

"Wh, what do you mean, dead?" the lecturer stuttered

"Heh, he's all yours Lucas" Taeyong stated

"You see. The second you lay on that student today, you're already in our death note. No one. And I mean no one. Touches my queen without my permission. Especially a bastard that harms other people's queens. Oh, the things I'm going to do to you. It'll make you wish that you were actually dead" Lucas snickered, stepping on the lecturer's throat, just enough to make him suffocate to Lucas' liking

A/N: Well, that ended a bit dark

[editorialsonlife]

Well

Welp, feeling like doing an update because there's been a lot going on to be honest. its one of those weird dichotomies where every day feels like an eternity and there's so much going on and then you look back and you're like oh, ok its just my brain making it difficult and making things take forever but anyway.

LOCKDOOOOOOOWWWWWWNNNNNNN

Lockdown life was good, apart from being thrust into it so suddenly dave left a banana on his desk. Wasn't great to come back to after 5 weeks out of the office - mummified mouldy banana!! Classic. We luckily got our first jab before lockdown started so that was good, and we were reasonably well stocked up on food and were generally a lot healthier this lockdown that last. honestly, there's a level of chill and serenity in lockdown that i just love. the ability to set my own schedule and only work the hours I actually work to get the job done? Amazing. getting 8.5 hours of sleep each night without having to wake to an alarm blaring? AMAZING. getting to go for walks every afternoon? SO FLIPPING GOOD. I love it so much, I really really do. I need this to be my life permanently.

WORK

Work is just ongoing and draining and honestly, coming back to the office was so fucking stressful and it was only one day. Being at home is just the fucking bomb. Pending home decisions, I wanna go contracting I think, but also ideally two part time contracts to have more flexibility? I dunno. You'd think a big 4 would provide variety but it really doesn't and honestly, with Richie leaving, wellington is just a sinking ship. Sean's off on parental leave, Kirstyn is down to four days a week, ben will be gone if he doesn't get promoted (and I don't think he will be tbh). Jack is just muddling along, Nigel wants to swap to consulting as well, Matt's going to be a shit leader in terms of bringing in work so it's just not going to work. and in our wider group it's going to get even more messy with heaps of the analysts leaving and a couple of senior hires too. so I think it's probably time to jump ship in general, pending the home stuff below. Also, coming back after a break again, I'm like, I don't actually like a lot of you? All the people I enjoy here are in other teams and groups, and I'll be sad to leave you all, but like, not enough to stay anyway lol.

Pending the home below, two options are to just going and get a job with a $30k payrise to make up for the maternity leave benefits I'm gunna leave behind when I leave this role - 18 weeks full pay, $100 a week for the first year back and a full year of maternity leave. It's basically 30k post tax which is a bit nuts to walk away from to be honest.

Otherwise the other option is to go contracting. Less security overall but holy shit so much money. If I went in as a project coordinator at the lowest rate to build up a bit of a portfolio I'd need to work 40 weeks of 40 hr weeks and Id basically match my current salary plus the lost family leave benefits and still qualify for govt maternity leave payments. Realistically I could go in as a project manager for $140 an hour ($60 more an hour than the above math) and absolutely smash it at that level as well so ya know, there's a bunch of other info. I like the idea of the flexibility of it and only having 6 months even if its a shitshow and beign able to walk away at the end of it. I really don't want to get a govt job and this is a v govt town which is fine but also, if I can avoid it that would be great. I just know I'm not gunna thrive in that environment.

Need to talk to Dave to get him across the line on the security issue part of that though. I've mostly come a long way in terms of my financial management (thanks YNAB) so I think he'd be ok with it mostly.

So there's a lot to toss up there because......

HOME

We got the reno plans done during lockdown, finally. which was super good. but holy fkn jesus $$$$$$ ++++++++++. The guy is coming around for the final quote on Thursday. We indicatively said $100k total because we're doing kitchen laundry bathroom and toilet. so only the most expensive rooms and when I was talking to him last week he said 'that might cover it' and they're seeing cost escalations of 7-10% a week which is just insane. we're not doing anything structural apart from putting in a cavity slider in the bathroom, and the quote they'll give us won't include flooring since they won't do it.

Meanwhile, the prefab homes I were looking at for our site were $425k fully done. Like, I'm not going to spend $130K on doing up my 1940s ex state house ya know? That's not good cost benefit ratio.

So depending on what that comes out at on thursday we'll be able to make some plans.

We also want to start trying for kids next year and need these renos done first - I am not having kids and no dishwasher lol.

Also we need bank financing so good to be in a permanent stable job for that application. the good thing is we have so much equity we know we can borrow whatever we need, I just don't want to spend that much money on it because it's fkn ridiculous. and if I'm going on maternity leave we need to be able to cover it all on dave's salary and whatever benefits I have as well so there;s a lot of financial planning and spreadsheeting going on at the moment lol. it's fab.

either way. we've got plenty of options up our sleeve. we've got friends who's brother owns a building company so we can talk to them, we've got the garage so we can get things prefabricated even if they're not installed til next year, Dave can get shit at cost through his work for whiteware, there;s plenty of things to like cost control we can do, we just need to know where we're starting from basically. thats the challenging part. but we'll figure it out, its just taking longer than I want it to basically.

We also planted up the vege garden for the spring/summer which was lovely, super jazzed about that. we've finally got the garden to a reasonably low maintenance level where everything is mostly under control and it's such a relief, honestly.

PERSONAL

Man what a shift to lockdown last year honestly. I think the last 8 weeks in particular has just been like, a massive reality check of how absolutely shit the last year was and how fucking glad I am to be rid of it. I spent a week absolutely spiralling 2 weeks ago now and honestly, I don't know how I lived in the state for more than a year. I actually don't know how I did it. and I could not be more glad that I'm finally on the other side of it, for the most part. There's still a bunch of other stuff to work through (hahahahahaha when is there not like damn) but fucking hell its nice to just not be anxious and nauseous and wound up constantly. life is actually accessible. miracle.

My workmate had his bebe - I went round and got newborn cuddles and was like, oh, is this what it is to be clucky? this is odd. so there's that as well. I think we'll probably start trying next year pending renos and jobs etc. If the renos can be done in jan I'll prob just stick it at the job to get the benefits but I dunno. it's a tough call to make really. we shall see. This all assumes we get knocked up without any issues which is questionable these days. I really want to feel healthier before getting pregnant as well, and part of that is losing weight. however, given discussing that is what triggered the spiral we're working on that one slowly.

Also, lets have a moment for counselling, because fkn bless anne and all her hard work honestly. I actually ended up emailing her being like, I;m losing my shit on the monday and then talked to her on thursday. And its so funny because it's such a counselling thing but I didn't realise until afterwards what she'd done but she was like you're clearly not doing well and then the night before dave got a fkn miserable migraine and he was up for like, 2 hrs powerchucking except he didn't make it to the bathroom in time so guess who was cleaning up vomit at 130am trying not to chuck herself but I digress. anyway, not doing well, couldn't even explain why, didn't even have words and super tired and she's like, what lynaire up to this week how's she going with izzy and chat about that and then be like how are you feeling about your body and then 5 more mins of chat about the cat and the chickens and then like bam hard question and then hows it going with x and y and z and its like, it wasn't til I was on my walk afterwards when I FINALLY started feeling marginally better I was like damn woman work your magic for figuring it out for me and helping me reregulate. all over the phone as well since we were still in lockdown. GREAT WORK FRIEND.

and then last week was like totally fucked theoretical discussion about religion and the role it's played in my life and fate vs free will and all this nutty shit but genuinely just a great discussion. She's the best and I love her. thank good for good counsellors. thank god I can afford to pay for it honestly.

Dave and I are just chugging along, god bless that man. I love him. its amazing. I miss having friends close by but understand why they had to move (boooooo f u house prices). Family is pretty chill, still not really talking to dave's parents which is nightmarish but we'll deal with that when we need to. gunna have to go and visit them at some point coz dave misses them and I feel for him, I really do. It's the whole boundaries renegotiation I went through with my family last year post wedding blow up and its just not a fun place to be. oh well. can't fix it for him but also I'm not putting up with that level of BS from either of our families once we have children. not gunna happen.

Either way, life is busy and full and fun and I'm enjoying it. Daylight savings starts this weekend too, its october next week WTF and I'm just waiting for 4pm to find out what's gunna happen to our girls trip. Clearly we cancelled our sept trip to christchurch and akaroa and hanmer springs so my covid travel curse continues. fkn ridic. Still dunno what we're gunna do with $2500 of flight credits coz if we get knocked up theres def no international trips happening any time soon.

thus concludes the almost 2000 word write up of life. hope you've enjoyed it. I'll throw up some pics in a separate post if people care about reno plans. such a good time!

[thessalian]

Thess vs Adulthood

My half-day off was ... both more and less stressful than I might otherwise have figured.

Somehow, for some fucking reason, the deluge of typing we’ve been having dried up. When I left, there were seven items in the queue (and I admit to some schadenfreude at being able to put off doing one by this one consultant who’s been working the more complicated cut-ups for like a month and so all his dictations are like ten minutes and full of bullshit minutiae like giving the exact width of every single tissue slice, which I know for a fact that you don’t have to do because various of his colleagues just give an average, and his block keys are fucking ridiculous and also while I get his accent well enough, his issues with singular vs plural and his other grammatical foibles kind of drive me bonkers after awhile so I’m praying the nine-minute monstrosity that I saw before I left is done by someone else this afternoon so I don’t fucking have to). I mean, yes, I worked like a fucking demon this week and have the muscle aches to show for it but daaaaaamn. Anyway, meant I got to head out without guilt.

Took a slightly roundabout way home because it was a nice day and I wanted to see some other bits of the city from the window of a double-decker bus. That was nice. Stopped for groceries. I needed decent shampoo and they were having a sale on the Aussie shampoo I like, and I have plans in the direction of burgers.

After that, an hour or so on hold with my bank as I tried to fix a long-ago cock-up and get my option to set up direct debits for paying my bills restored. It wasn’t a good idea for a long time because of my iffy financial situation. Now that I have a permanent job? Bring on the automatic bill-paying. They solved my problem better than the entity I got on online chat (who I suspect was one of the rather controversial outsourced staff in ... I think India was where the news reports mentioned back in the day) who just said, “I don’t see a problem; try again”. To that entity’s credit, it did take some digging to find the issue. However, it’s not like they seemed to try ... or maybe they just didn’t have full access to the notes on my account, I dunno.

Anyway, now that that seems to be resolved, I can loaf. I am very very tired. I could nap. Thing is, I don’t want to mess up my sleep patterns worse than they already are. Also ... video games. I mean, I have many. In fact, I have more now because yesterday involved one of my besties lobbing the PC version of Horizon: Zero Dawn at my head. Seriously, video games are too big now and there’s never enough time to play them. I still haven’t done much with Odyssey yet (mostly because I’m still a little intimidated by the mechanics, at least after a long day at work and attempts at recovery from same), I have The Outer Worlds to poke at to see if I’m right and the new glasses help negate the “first person perspective causes migraines” issue... I know I require enrichment but it would help to have the energy to take the opportunities at it that I’m offered. But nope; worked too hard for that. Even when I have free time, I’m generally too fuckin’ tired.

Not that I look it, apparently; apparently I don’t look half as worn out and dragged out as I feel, which seems to translate in the eyes of most as ‘not looking old’. It would appear that unless you’re kissing close, the white in my hair is easy to mistake for blonde, and in fact mixes in with my natural blonde highlights that come out when there’s more sun. Between that and the mask, apparently I reeeeeeeeeeally don’t look my age. I mean, I’m 44 years old. I do not expect to be asked for ID in a Challenge 25 situation. However, it has happened twice this week. Both clerks looked absolutely dumbstruck when I handed over my ID (obviously mine, because it’s too complicated to fake and the picture - taken when my hair was long, without being allowed to wear my glasses, and when I hadn’t slept in over 36 hours - too appalling to carry around willingly) and they checked my birth year. I grumbled about this to Bubbles and (after the usual thing of, “How old are you, anyway? ...No way! You don’t look anything like that old!”) got questions about my skincare thing. Which ... is nonexistent. I wash my face once a day in the same kind of anti-blemish scrub I’ve been using for about thirty years of my life. I take multivitamins because my dietary options are incredibly limited and I don’t fancy osteoporosis, worse anaemia than I already have, or scurvy. I do not in any way get enough sleep. I probably do drink enough water, so there’s that, but still, people ask me what moisturiser I use and I’m like, “No, dude, my oily-ass skin doesn’t need more moisture. That’s what the anti-zit scrub’s for”.

Apparently I’m supposed to be happy about this and want to be carded forever. But I don’t mind looking 44. That’s how old I am. There is nothing wrong with being older, and there is thus nothing wrong with looking older. I mean, I guess I have a different perspective on it because I honestly don’t give a shit about anyone who says that a woman’s life is more or less over when she stops being able to pass for 25 because a) that’s total bullshit, b) I don’t entirely count myself as a woman, and c) that ‘life being over’ thing only seems to apply to things like attracting a man (which is supposedly women’s only purpose, which is also total bullshit but that’s another rant), and even if I had any interest in doing that, I don’t want them to want me for my body because I’m ace and thus have no intention of sharing it with them anyway. If someone doesn’t want to be involved with the 44-year-old with the white streaks in their hair and the nerdy-ass T-shirt, they don’t get the 25-year-old with the blonde highlights and the nerdy-ass T-shirt either.

Besides, the white in my hair looks good and the laugh and smile lines around eyes and mouth respectively? Those are medals of honour. The life I’ve had, the fact that I’ve smiled and laughed enough to get those is a fucking miracle.

[aaluminiumas]

Millstones

Shanks openly relished the pirate life: he could name one hundred reasons to become a buccaneer, and that oh-so-proverbial One Piece every rookie dreamt about wouldn’t be listed among the first thirty. This man loved listening to waves rustling; he could spend hours admiring the landscape while holding the ship’s wheel and staring into nowhere – but with the same zeal he threw himself into battle standing up for his friends and crewmates. And a good fight is sure to be celebrated by a downpour of sake, a loud burst of laughter and a couple of brazen jokes around the campfire somewhere far away. Isn’t it what happiness is all about?

He long forgot the place he called home. Was it a little windswept archipelago somewhere in the middle of the Grand Line? Or, perhaps, a bustling city that never sleeps? Or, probably, a tiny village on the outskirts of the Goa Kingdom where he tended to return in attempt to remember the good old times and to order a mug of sake while singing a song unanimously with other frequenters?..

Red-haired Shanks grunted under his breath and turned the ship to the left. Out of the corner of the eye the man caught the glimpse of a sea king coming to the surface. Oddly enough, this one didn’t pay the slightest attention to them: the creature had either managed to devour another crew chasing Gol D. Roger’s treasure, or simply took no notice of the vessel. Making sure the ruthless animal swam away, the pirate consulted his log pose – and in a couple of seconds he spotted the familiar sky-line of the Goa Kingdom: a city surrounded by a thick wall with a swarm of windmills in the distance. They moved in the same fashion, clockwise, peacefully and steadily, filling the air with quiet and mollifying creaking everybody was accustomed to. Even the fragrance of this wonderful place was unique: clear, slightly salty and dusty as if abundant in flour that never trickled out of the millstones completely.

Long time ago – a whole eternity ago! – he saved Luffy from a sea king and lost his arm in the process. A ridiculous price for a funny kid who managed to create problems whenever he went naively smiling all the way. Shanks couldn’t put his finger on his behavior: how dared this child roughly as tall as his leg challenge someone much stronger! But despite his obvious paternal affection for the brave boy, there was definitely something else that attracted him to the tavern not far from the biggest windmill.

Although Shanks didn’t have his own kids, he as well as his crew enjoyed talking to Luffy days on end telling unbelievable stories about their adventures. The lad whose eyes were beaming with anticipation caught every word evincing sheer awe and reverence. Listening to the pirates, he imagined himself to be one, and didn’t even doubt he would be lucky enough to get into a bit of a scrape to fight back any offender.

But Luffy wasn’t the only one who delighted pirate tales. The hostess of the tavern, calm and light-hearted Makino, dwelled on every word spoken as if she herself were a little girl. She knew she wouldn’t exchange her settled life for the fierce and unpredictable ocean but the exciting fables soon interwove into her daily routine turning into a significant part of the world she lived in. Every evening Shanks dropped in at the tavern, ordered a whole barrel of sake for his crew – and laughed, recalling the most mind-blowing events that took everybody’s breath away. These were miraculous days, weren’t they?

The red-haired man grinned to himself recollecting the night when Makino, who just started wiping off plates, ventured to ask an odd question – he needed a solid minute to ponder over it and give her a decent reply.

“Shanks-san,” she called him quietly and put the plates on a shelf feeling sheepish, “Aren’t you…” the woman raised her eyes to audaciously look at him, “Aren’t you afraid? Aren’t you scared at all?”

He thought for a second, sipped on his drink and adjusted the straw hat that hadn’t yet made its way to Luffy. “Afraid,” he finally deduced and pushed his mug aside, “But not for myself.”

Shanks turned his head in the direction of his friends stuffing themselves with meat and arguing about mermaids. Someone began to sing – slightly out of tune, –and the rest cheerfully took up, though not unanimously at all. The woman got perplexed for a moment or two – and, amazed to a fault, kept staring at the visitor in the straw hat not fully comprehending what he meant by this.

The man laughed, “Just imagine what kind of mess Luffy can make when we sails away! He’s ready to challenge a sea king to prove his strength and audacity,” Shanks bestowed a broad smile on her folding his hands on the table, “But I believe one day he’ll become more cauti–”

At this very moment, ‘the cautious kid’ caused a huge knife to fall. Luffy was about to yell at the top of his lungs – but immediately noticed the heaven-sent hand of the red-haired man and closed his cry-contorted mouth. His orbs sparkled – the boy got charmed again.

However, it wasn’t the only time Makino asked bizarre questions: she was genuinely enthralled by his lifestyle even though she never wanted to be a pirate. He liked that disclosed interest, curiosity to the foreign world of his, and bit by bit such discussions created a tight bond of friendship between them which somewhat impelled the crewmates to shamelessly tease their captain – not unkindly, of course. His comrades didn’t mean anything bad – they simply relished the sight of the normally collected hostess who now smiled meekly and blushed slightly. Taking it as a certain sign, the captain cut the jokes short with a loud laugh and another mug of sake.

Thing ran their course.

It’s been quite some time since then… Ace died almost two years ago, Luffy is already up in arms, and the millstones are working just as steadily, turning wheat into flour. When did he visit the place last time?.. It was simply indecent on his part considering the amount of time he spent there. Is the mayor just as grumpy and meticulous as he used to be? And what about that bandit, Dadan, Luffy told so much about? Is she doing fine? And the tavern where he hung out so often with his crew, is it in the same place?..

For a moment the red-haired man yielded to a vague feeling of nostalgia: the reminiscences goaded him to squeeze out a lopsided grin, and the decision he’d recently made, got its shape: the yonko was absolutely sure of the actions he was about to perform.

“Welcome to the Goa Kingdom!” he declared in a stentorian voice turning to face his boatswain ready to comply with the ensuing command. “Time to have some fun, guys!”

This order was met by a loud explosion of shenanigans: they’d just savored a good fight, and now they were eager to live it up.

*** “Makino been at ‘ome fo’ a week already,” a sprightly old lady reported to Shanks while giving hearty slaps to presumptuous pirates. “’er boy got ill. But drop in at ‘er place anyway, she’ll be ‘appy to see ya. It isn’t too fa’ from ‘ere… Bah! Where ya goin’ bone’ead?!” the old crone quacked and hit someone with a beer mug she was holding. “So, just ‘ound the corne’… those gates. Damn you, Satan!”

The red-haired pirate grinned at the educational methods that old woman employed, gave her a golden coin and left the tavern. His feet brought him directly to the neat small house with huge flower beds in front. The man didn’t get what the bartender meant by ‘her boy got ill’ but the galvanic yearning for the past demanded new memories and Makino indeed was an integral part of the time he spent here and needed so desperately. Shanks automatically noticed that he became the center of attention: those who didn’t know he used to visit the village raked their brains as to why one of the yonkos decided to come while his friends, along with the mayor, were genuinely joyous to see him and greeted the man asking for how long he planned to stay. There were others, suspicious ones, who revealed their growing displeasure and apprehension – but they tended to avoid any eye-contact with the guest.

Makino’s cottage looked even smaller when he approached it: the house reminded him of the tiny huts he saw at the Pigmy Island but seemed solid enough to handle a powerful hurricane. Shanks couldn’t recollect whether he ever paid visits to his friends: there was no point doing it as they met at the tavern every evening to discuss recent local news And now… he felt almost embarrassed.

He knocked – and heard a clear voice.

“Wait a minute!” Makino was certainly busy, “I’m ̶ Shanks-san?!”

Opening the door, Makino froze at the sight of the man at the threshold: the young woman was holding a hefty bundle with a sniffing baby – with the free hand, she tried to do her hair.

“Are you here for long..?” she attempted to atone, her lips smiling irresolutely.

“No… I dunno.”

She adjusted her son to hold him comfortably, pushed the door open and stepped aside letting the guest in. Despite their common past where no one hid anything from the other, currently both of them felt perplexed and confused: Shanks realized he came amiss, and Makino simply didn’t expect to see the man she used to read about emerging in her tiny cottage. Since he became a yonko, she stopped waiting for his loud visits: a man of importance like him – even if a pirate, – probably had more significant affairs to deal with than singing songs somewhere in a godforsaken village.

Closing the door behind him, the young woman unswathed the parcel and made sure the baby felt better. In a moment, she placed him on the floor and gave him his favorite toy – a plush parrot which was immediately seized by a viselike grip of two chubby hands.

“How you doing?” the pirate asked nonchalantly perusing the modest, spick and span room and finally swiveling his eyes to look at the roly poly tyke crawling around. “What a swashbuckling lady replaced you,” he mentioned with a short laugh. “She’s a real smasher. Can kick anyone out of the pub!”

“Oh… Kagurumi-san… she has her own approach to problem clients,” Makino gave out a small but nonetheless genuine smile bit by bit getting accustomed to his company and his manners that didn’t change at all. “What about you? Have you seen Luffy? I’ve read something in a newspaper but… since he… since… that day I heard a number of things but I am not sure what exactly should be trusted.”

“Luffy’s fine. He’s coped with Ace’s death and is ready to make a scoop and win all front pages,” Shanks said firmly instantly getting the facts straight and calling it the way he saw it – he had to be the reasonable one even though Makino had a hard time speaking about the situation. “Don’t worry about him: he’s already striving to get in trouble.” The yonko broke into a smile, sat down on the sofa and pointed to the boy with a subtle nod of his head: the kid had been playing with the dark cloth of Shanks’ coat probably considering it a better toy. “What’s his name?” “Kenta. Kenta, don’t touch it.” Her delicate hand tenderly brushed across the plump fingers. “No.”

“Why not?” the man’s smile grew even broader, and he sat the boy in his lap. “How old ‘re ye, pal?”

“Not… too much.”

The conversation dragged. Makino clearly felt reluctant to discuss her personal life: she was either afraid of mocking and misunderstanding, or instinctively realized she had fallen in love with the man who kept her company during those long nights at the tavern filled with stories about other islands and seas. She loved his tales and his smile; she adored his laugh and sonorous voice – she even found herself enchanted by his manners sufficiently graceful for a pirate. But the woman never thought it could go further anytime soon. Don’t friends see each other as beautiful, kind people? Don’t they acknowledge the best in one another? Don’t they admire each other?..

The woman sat there, motionless and calm, but it was obvious she couldn’t ease the tension even though she tried to seem friendly.

“If I’m unwanted here, I’ll go,” Shanks spotted her nervousness and adjusted the collar of his coat, evidently about to stand up. “We happened to be around, so of course everyone was eager to remember the best moments of the past… to have a look at good ol’ Windmill. I’m sorry if I meddled in.” he said in the same light-hearted voice not holding any grudge against her.

She replied by a tender, smooth gesture – the woman put her hand onto his shoulder. Kenta, not paying attention to his mother’s agitation, examined the stranger awkwardly standing up and trying to reach the flaming red hair. The man looked so extraordinary – he never met anyone like this among his mom’s guests.

“We all were shocked when… this happened,” the smile faded away for a second, and the eyes got hazy. “I mean, Ace and Whitebeard's death. When Garp came, even Dadan wasn’t her usual self – you remember, that mountain bandit who raised Luffy and… the rest.” She didn’t dare call Ace by the name the second time. “But bit by bit everything’s falling into place, and… if Luffy did it, we will succeed too.” The woman stated in the voice laced with confidence, her bright eyes staring at Shanks. “The whole world is reconstructing, and we are not an exception, fortunately or unfortunately. We have to adapt as well. Thankfully, Goa isn’t the place every single pirate darts to conquer, so everything’s more or less quiet here.” Makino eventually managed to get rid of stiffness. “What about you? How are you, Shanks-san?..”

“Whitebeard’s death is definitely a tragedy for everyone,” he drawled pensively automatically playing with Makino’s son. “And it did multiply the number of problems to deal with. But we’re still trying to live the same way and to do whatever we did before the new era: to have fun, to fight and to drink.” He let out another laughter and brought Kenta up to his shoulder. “Look, what a rider you have here!”

The boy giggled and hugged the pirate by the neck.

Makino slightly blushed. “He… likes you. He doesn’t normally trust people so easily but you seem to make a good impression. I’m afraid he’s going to chase you just like Luffy!” she shook her head in a histrionic reproach.

“So Windmill is going to have a pirate dynasty? Our future Pirate King will be happy to know there’s someone to inherit the skills!”

All of a sudden the mood lightened by itself: Makino released herself and relaxed, cheerfully laughing at the crass jokes he always spilled. The balance restored into the universe: the woman no longer shied away from the guest and honestly replied to his simple questions; she even mentioned what she used to be doing before his visit to the village. He listened to her carefully catching every word, japed and reminisced on certain occasions that came to his mind. Sometimes, making Kenta participate in the confabulation, Shanks questioned him as well just to hear a short ‘yea’ or displeased sniff.

The day was declining, but even after lulling her son to sleep, Makino didn’t intend to part ways with the man who returned just to say hello and to check up on her.

“Have you… rented anything?” she requested quietly, taking off her bandanna protecting her head from the burning sun. “If not, you can stay over. Of course if you don’t mind.” She hurried to add wondering whether she’d gone too far.

Shanks quirked his eyebrows and scratched the tip of his nose. “Why not?.. If anything I should pay a little bit more attention to my closest friend. In fact, I was kinda scared I frightened you.” He noticed undoing the laces of his coat.

She emitted a soft laugh grabbing the outerwear off his hand and hanging it on a peg. “I’m not afraid of you, I’m afraid of the changes you’re bringing along,” she answered simply. “But now I understand that we are… protected. We have nothing to be scared of with a friend like you,” Makino said in whisper, in a barely audible tone. Not switching on the lights, she dared give the guest a bear hug – even though it was evanescent and ephemeral, she managed to express her emotions the best way she could – with innate modesty and chastity. “Thank you. If only had I known how to thank you properly…”

Shanks caught her fingers and pressed the narrow pale hand to his lips. “You have provided a shelter. A pirate wouldn’t even dream about a bigger thing.” He let go off her hand and pulled away from her, his smile friendly and cordial and yet exposing some unknown fatigue Makino had never come across before. 

“Good night, Makino. I am glad to know we are friends regardless our long separation. You know, it’s so disrespectful of us to keep each other in the dark. But we didn’t have a choice!” he made a helpless gesture with his hand and disappeared in the room she had prepared for him to immediately fall into deep slumber.

And the hostess after putting her son’s toys in the box, shook her head and covered Shanks with a blanket: the nights may grow cold, and he certainly had enough of chilling wind on board. He deserved the comfort of the settled life he willingly rejected – he would never get used to that anyway…

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars LXIX (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I’m so pissed bc last chapter came out in September 1st and I just ignored it??? I’m such an idiot?? Physically I’m on quarantine, spiritually I’m wherever these losers are -Danny

Words: 4,499

Warnings: None!

Series’ Masterilst

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Four: Bagman and Crouch.

"Morning, Basil," Mr. Weasley picked up the boot and handed it to the wizard.

"Really, why can't wizards just use cars?" Mel grumbled from the ground.

Two hands reach out for her and she found Fred and Harry standing side by side. The first one had an innocent and amused expression. Harry, however, glanced at the boy beside him with slight annoyance.

"Thank you boys," She said, quickly holding onto both hands and standing up.

"Told you," Fred chuckled.

"Is apparating just as uncomfortable as this?"

"Wouldn't know," He shrugged. "Never done it."

She brushed the dirt off her clothes, a little startled at the way Harry grabbed her bag and eagerly handed it back to her, still glaring at Fred in a strange way while the twin pretended not to notice, a sly smile on his face as he walked back to where his twin was.

"Hello there, Arthur," said Basil. "Not on duty, eh? It's all right for some... We've been here all night... You'd better get out of the way, we've got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five-fifteen. Hang on, I'll find your campsite... Weasley... Weasley..."

"I'm sorry about my dad," Said a voice she wasn't familiar with. It was Cedric. "He's one of those who doesn't think twice before talking, but he's not a bad man..."

"It's okay," Mel grinned. "I'm one of those who does not think twice before snapping at someone. Bet you've heard..."

Cedric scrunched up his nose in a way that Mel considered adorable.

"Might have, once or twice."

"I'm also nice, I promise," She reached out a hand for him to shake, which he did almost immediately.

"It's a pleasure to oficially meet, then," He nodded, wearing his best smile.

"–About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to. Site manager's called Mr. Roberts." Mr. Weasley's friend told them out loud. "Diggory... second field... ask for Mr. Payne."

"Thanks, Basil," said Mr. Weasley, and everyone followed him.

"So this is your last year at Hogwarts?" She asked the boy, considering a bit awkward to just walk in silence.

"Yeah," He shrugged. "I'm not sure of what I'll do once I'm done, but I think I might travel a bit before working."

"Any place in particular?" Cedric pondered, taking her question very seriously.

"Some place warm."

She nodded, thinking of anything else she could add, however, Cedric talked first.

"Is it true that Dumbledore gives you extra lessons?"

"Yes," She smiled. "It's sort of a family thing, and since my dad isn't around to teach me..."

It wasn't entirely true, but Dumbledore had admitted that her abilities were a thing women in their family had, so it wasn't a lie either.

"That's cool," Cedric replied. "Is he good at teaching?"

"The best," Mel continued eagerly. "He knows ever so many things about almost everything! I'd love to be like him once I'm older."

"Well, you're a Dumbledore," The boy raised his eyebrows. "I'm sure the brains must be part of the family as well." She laughed at this, not sure of how to answer. Instead, she casually changed the subject to Quidditch.

"So are you a Bulgaria, or Ireland supporter?"

Cedric quickly perked up at this, seemengly happy to talk about something so normal that had nothing to do with families.

"Ireland, I think... but my dad's with Rumania, so I have to support a little quieter..." They laughed discretely at his words.

Next fifteen minutes past rather quickly, Cedric was nice and social enough to keep the conversation flowing, Mel felt a little guilty of how everyone at school perceived him as just as pretty face with no brains or goals. She made a mental note to never let any of her friends make any negative comments about Cedric ever again.

When the time came that they had to part, Cedric waved at her joyfully and she returned it, hoping to see him again soon. She felt someone nudged her arm and turned to look at Harry, who pointed at the group that was already moving forward.

"Sorry," She said with a small smile. "Won't stay behind again, promise."

"Boys have been awfully nice to you lately..." He grumbled, looking back at Cedric over his shoulder.

"It certainly does feel better than to be chasen down a street while they threw rocks at you, you know?"

Harry's eyes widened, cheeks flushing at her words.

"Yeah, you're... you're right," He cleared his throat.

"Morning!" said Mr. Weasley, waving at a man standing near.

"Morning," the man (a muggle, for the looks of it) answered.

"Would you be Mr. Roberts?"

"Aye, I would," said Mr. Roberts. "And who're you?"

"Weasley — two tents, booked a couple of days ago?"

"Aye," said Mr. Roberts, consulting a list tacked to the door. "You've got a space up by the wood there. Just the one night?"

"That's it," said Mr. Weasley.

"You'll be paying now, then?" said Mr. Roberts.

"Ah — right — certainly —" said Mr. Weasley. He retreated a short distance from the cottage and beckoned Harry toward him. "Help me, Harry," he muttered, pulling a roll of Muggle money from his pocket and starting to peel the notes apart. "This one's a — a — a ten? Ah yes, I see the little number on it now. . . . So this is a five?"

"A twenty," Harry threw a desperate look her way, probably nervous about the man who was listening closely to their conversation.

"Ah yes, so it is... I don't know, these little bits of paper..." Mr. Weasley grumbled.

"You foreign?" said Mr. Roberts.

"Foreign?"

"You're not the first one who's had trouble with money. I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago."

"Did you really?"

"Never been this crowded... Hundreds of pre-bookings. People usually just turn up..."

"Is that right?" said Mr. Weasley, insisting for the man to take the money he was holding out but failing to succeed.

"Aye– People from all over. Loads of for- eigners. And not just foreigners. Weirdos, you know? There's a bloke walking 'round in a kilt and a poncho."

"Shouldn't he?" asked Mr. Weasley nervously.

"It's like some sort of... I dunno... like some sort of rally... They all seem to know each other. Like a big party."

"Obliviate!" A second man exclaimed, pointing his wand at Mr. Roberts.

"A map of the campsite for you," Mr. Roberts said after a moment of quiet change on his features. "And your change."

"Thanks very much," said Mr. Weasley.

The wizard who had charmed the muggle accompanied them to the door.

"Been having a lot of trouble with him. Needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy. And Ludo Bagman's not helping. Trotting around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, not a worry about anti-Muggle security. Blimey, I'll be glad when this is over. See you later, Arthur." And with that, he disapparated.

"I thought Mr. Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sports," said Ginny. "He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, shouldn't he?"

"He should," said Mr. Weasley. "but Ludo's always been a bit... well... lax about security. You couldn't wish for a more enthusiastic head of the sports department though. He played Quidditch for England himself, you know. And he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had."

Halfway up the field stood an extravagant confection of striped silk like a miniature palace, with several live peacocks tethered at the entrance. A little farther on they passed a tent that had three floors and several turrets; and a short way beyond that was a tent that had a front garden attached, complete with birdbath, sundial, and fountain.

"Always the same," said Mr. Weasley, smiling. "We can't resist showing off when we get together. Ah, here we are, look, this is us." They had reached the very edge of the wood at the top of the field, and here was an empty space, with a small sign hammered into the ground that read weezly.

"Couldn't have a better spot!" said Mr. Weasley happily. "The field is just on the other side of the wood there, we're as close as we could be." He hoisted his backpack from his shoulders. "Right," he said excitedly, "no magic allowed, strictly speaking, not when we're out in these numbers on Muggle land. We'll be putting these tents up by hand! Shouldn't be too difficult. . . . Muggles do it all the time. . . . Here, Harry, where do you reckon we should start?"

"Harry has never gone camping before," Mel told him gently. "But I used to put up a tent for when we camped outside my house, remember Harry? I can help, don't worry..."

However, Harry insisting on helping anyway. Soon Emily, Mel, Harry, and Hermione had the tents ready. The problem was that there was only two and they were too small for all the people in their group, she turned to inform her mother about this when Mr. Weasley spoke up.

"We'll be a bit cramped, but I think we'll all squeeze in. Come and have a look."

She turned to her mother fully now, a quizzical look on her face while the woman chuckled, pushing her further.

"You'll love this..." Was all she commented.

And love it she did. Inside it looked like she had entered an actual flat, it had three rooms, a kitchen and a bathroom. It was impressive, but Mel thought it took out a little of the charm, camping wasn't supposed to be this comfortable, or so she'd thought before.

"You want to come with us on an adventure?" Ron asked, suddenly appearing at the entrance.

"Where to?" She asked, leaving her backpack on a chair.

He showed her the kettle he kept on his hands.

"To get water."

Everything around them invited her to give up on the no-magic rule and explore, so many different people, of all ages, colors and sizes!

She allowed herself to imagine a great deal, the homes and cities and comunities these wizards and witches may lived on, their families and background. A much more larger world for her to see...

Cedric's idea about traveling before settling down made complete sense to her, and she remembered the talk she'd had with Harry a few years prior, about them traveling the world together, sending postcards to their friends and family from all around the globe.

A fuzzy feeling made its way through her chest at this, picturing the endless adventures she could have with her best friend as adults and free from school.

"Er — is it my eyes, or has everything gone green?" asked Ron, bringing her back to the present.

It wasn't just Ron's eyes. They had walked into a patch of tents that were all covered with a thick growth of shamrocks, so that it looked as though small, oddly shaped hillocks had sprouted out of the earth. Grinning faces could be seen under those that had their flaps open. Then, from behind them, they heard their names.

"Harry! Mel! Ron! Hermione!"

Seamus Finnigan was sitting in front of his own tent, with a woman that had to be his mother,  Dean Thomas was also there.

"Like the decorations?" said Seamus. "The Ministry's not too happy."

"Ah, why shouldn't we show our colors?" said the woman. "You should see what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents. You'll be supporting Ireland, of course?"

"Sure..."

"Of course!"

"Like we'd say anything else surrounded by that lot." Ron said under his breath once they left Finnigan's tent to keep going on their quest. Mel snorted, just nodding as a reply.

"I wonder what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents?" said Hermione.

"Let's go and have a look," said Harry.

The tents here had not been bedecked with plant life, but each and every one of them had the same poster attached to it, a poster of a very surly face with heavy black eyebrows. The picture was, of course, moving, but all it did was blink and scowl.

"Krum," said Ron quietly.

"What?" said Hermione.

"Krum!" said Ron. "Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker!"

"He looks really grumpy," said Hermione, looking around at the many Krums blinking and scowling at them.

" 'Really grumpy '?" Ron raised his eyes to the heavens. "Who cares what he looks like? He's unbelievable. He's really young too. Only just eighteen or something. He's a genius, you wait until tonight, you'll see."

"I hardly believe that being a good seeker makes you a genius," Mel commented.

"Thanks," Harry replied grumpily.

"I didn't say you were stupid," She grinned. "Though coming to think about it, you've done some foolish things throughout the years..."

"You're one to talk!" He teased.

"I am, actually," Mel smiled. "I remember when we were ten and you tried to escape your Aunt Marge's dog..."

"Don't say it–"

"And you ended up on top of a tree until midnight because she just wouldn't call her dog," Mel giggled. "Which was very rude of her, but come on– you climbed a tree instead of running to my house!"

"I was ten!" He exclaimed over Ron's cackles. "Oh, bugger off..."

There was a line for the tap. Harry, Mel, Ron, and Hermione joined it, behind a pair of men who were arguing. One of them was wearing a nightgown. The other was a Ministry wizard a holding a pair of trousers and beyond exasperated.

"Just put them on, Archie, there's a good chap. You can't walk around like that, the Muggle at the gate's already getting suspicious —"

"I bought this in a Muggle shop," said the old wizard stubbornly. "Muggles wear them."

"Muggle women wear them, Archie, not the men, they wear these," said the Ministry wizard, and he brandished the pinstriped trousers.

"I'm not putting them on," said old Archie in indignation. "I like a healthy breeze 'round my privates, thanks."

Hermione was overcome with such a strong fit of the giggles at this point that she had to duck out of the queue and only returned when Archie had collected his water and moved away.

Walking more slowly now, because of the weight of the water, they made their way back through the campsite. Here and there, they saw more familiar faces: other Hogwarts students with their families. Oliver Wood, the old captain of Harry's House Quidditch team, who had just left Hogwarts, dragged Harry over to his parents' tent to introduce him, and told him excitedly that he had just been signed to the Puddlemere United reserve team. Next they were hailed by Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff fourth year, and a little farther on they saw Cho Chang, a very pretty girl who played Seeker on the Ravenclaw team. She waved and smiled at Harry, who slopped quite a lot of water down his front as he waved back.

Now, Mel wasn't going to admit that the huff that came out of her mouth right at that moment was because of the boy's reaction, but Ron definitely made sure to tease both of them relentlessly until Harry found the perfect excuse, pointing at some tent at his left.

"Who d'you reckon they are? They don't go to Hogwarts, do they?"

" 'Spect they go to some foreign school," said Ron. "I know there are others. Never met anyone who went to one, though. Bill had a penfriend at a school in Brazil... this was years and years ago... and he wanted to go on an exchange trip but Mum and Dad couldn't afford it. His penfriend got all offended when he said he wasn't going and sent him a cursed hat. It made his ears shrivel up."

"That's awful," Mel said over Harry's laughter. "Might been silly, but I never stopped to think about other Schools... I was too excited about being admitted into one that it went right over my head..."

"Me neither," Harry admitted. "I'd love to know a bit about them, though."

"You've been gone ages," George groaned as they entered the boys' tent.

"You're welcome," Mel replied, lightly slapping his head as she walked past.

"Met a few people," said Ron. "You not got that fire started yet?"

"Dad's having fun with the matches," Fred pointed towards the entrance with a stern face.

Mr. Weasley was having no success at all in lighting the fire, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Splintered matches littered the ground around him, but he looked as though he was having the time of his life.

"Oops!" he said as he managed to light a match and promptly dropped it in surprise.

"Come here, Mr. Weasley," said Hermione kindly, taking the box from him, and showing him how to do it properly.

At last they got the fire lit, though it was at least another hour before it was hot enough to cook anything. There was plenty to watch while they waited, however. Their tent seemed to be pitched right alongside a kind of thoroughfare to the field, and Ministry members kept hurrying up and down it, greeting Mr. Weasley cordially as they passed.

"That was Cuthbert Mockridge, Head of the Goblin Liaison Office... Here comes Gilbert Wimple; he's with the Committee on Experimental Charms; he's had those horns for a while now... Hello, Arnie . . . Arnold Peasegood, he's an Obliviator — member of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, you know... and that's Bode and Croaker... they're Unspeakables..."

"They're what?"

"From the Department of Mysteries, top secret, no idea what they get up to..."

Mel's eyes lingered on the people Mr. Weasley had mentioned. Something about the circumstances of their job and the name gave her a thrill, imagining all the things they may see on a daily basis.

At last, the fire was ready, and they had just started cooking eggs and sausages when Bill, Charlie, and Percy came strolling out of the woods toward them.

"Just Apparated, Dad," said Percy loudly. "Ah, excellent, lunch!"

They were halfway through their plates of eggs and sausages when Mr. Weasley jumped to his feet, waving and grinning at a man who was striding toward them.

"Aha!" he said. "The man of the moment! Ludo!"

"Ahoy there! Arthur, old man, What a day, eh? What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming... and hardly a hiccough in the arrangements... Not much for me to do!"

Behind him, a group of haggard-looking Ministry wizards rushed past, pointing at the distant evidence of some sort of a magical fire that was sending violet sparks twenty feet into the air.

Percy hurried forward with his hand outstretched. Apparently his disapproval of the way Ludo Bagman ran his department did not prevent him from wanting to make a good impression.

"Ah — yes, this is my son Percy. He's just started at the Ministry — and this is Fred — no, George, sorry — that's Fred — Bill, Charlie, Ron — my daughter, Ginny — this is Emily Sultens, mother of one of Ron's friends and Ron's friends, Hermione Granger, Mel Dumbledore and Harry Potter."

Mel smiled politely at the man, noticing how his eyes traveled from Harry's scar and settled on her face for a brief second, before returning to Mr. Weasley.

"Everyone, this is Ludo Bagman, you know who he is, it's thanks to him we've got such good tickets —"

"Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur?" The man asked. "I've already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will score first — I offered him nice odds, considering Ireland's front three are the strongest I've seen in years — and little Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm on a week-long match."

"Oh... go on then," said Mr. Weasley. "Let's see... a Galleon on Ireland to win?"

"A Galleon? Very well, very well... any other takers?"

"They're a bit young to be gambling," said Mr. Weasley. "Molly wouldn't like —"

"We'll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts," said Fred, and he and his brother pulled out all the money they had. "that Ireland wins — but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch. Oh and we'll throw in a fake wand."

"You don't want to go showing Mr. Bagman rubbish like that —" Percy hissed, but Bagman didn't seem to think the wand was rubbish at all; on the contrary, his boyish face shone with excitement as he took it from Fred, and when the wand gave a loud squawk and turned into a rubber chicken, Bagman roared with laughter.

"Excellent! I haven't seen one that convincing in years! I'd pay five Galleons for that!"

Percy froze in an attitude of stunned disapproval.

"Boys," said Mr. Weasley under his breath, "I don't want you betting... That's all your savings... Your mother —"

"Don't be a spoilsport, Arthur!" boomed Ludo Bagman, rattling his pockets excitedly. "They're old enough to know what they want! You reckon Ireland will win but Krum'll get the Snitch? Not a chance, boys, not a chance... I'll give you excellent odds on that one... We'll add five Galleons for the funny wand, then, shall we..."

Mr. Weasley looked on helplessly as Ludo Bagman whipped out a notebook and quill and began jotting down the twins' names.

"Cheers," said George, taking the slip of parchment Bagman handed him and tucking it away carefully. Bagman turned most cheerfully back to Mr. Weasley.

"You shouldn't have," Mel told them worryingly. "What will you do if you lose?"

"We'll worry about that, Lady Dumbledore," Fred told her carelessly. "Don't fuss over it just yet."

"But if your mum finds out–"

"Mum's done enough for us already," George replied hastily.

"Couldn't do me a brew, I suppose? I'm keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number's making difficulties, and I can't understand a word he's saying. Barty'll be able to sort it out. He speaks about a hundred and fifty languages."

"Mr. Crouch?" said Percy, suddenly abandoning his look of poker-stiff disapproval and positively writhing with excitement. "He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll..."

"Anyone can speak Troll," said Fred dismissively. "All you have to do is point and grunt."

Percy threw Fred an extremely nasty look and stoked the fire vigorously to bring the kettle back to the boil.

"Any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?" Mr. Weasley asked as Bagman settled himself down on the grass beside them all.

"Not a dicky bird," said Bagman comfortably. "But she'll turn up. Poor old Bertha... memory like a leaky cauldron and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. She'll wander back into the office sometime in October, thinking it's still July."

"You don't think it might be time to send someone to look for her?" Mr. Weasley suggested tentatively as Percy handed Bagman his tea.

"Barty Crouch keeps saying that," said Bagman, his round eyes widening innocently, "but we really can't spare anyone at the moment. Oh — talk of the devil! Barty!"

A wizard had just Apparated at their fireside, and he could not have made more of a contrast with Ludo Bagman, sprawled on the grass in his old Wasp robes. Barty Crouch was a stiff, upright, elderly man, dressed in an impeccably crisp suit and tie. The parting in his short gray hair was almost unnaturally straight, and his narrow toothbrush mustache looked as though he trimmed it using a slide rule. His shoes were very highly polished.

"Pull up a bit of grass, Barty," said Ludo.

"No thank you, Ludo," Crouch replied. "I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box."

"Oh is that what they're after?" said Bagman. "I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent."

"Mr. Crouch!" Percy sort of gasped. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Oh," Mr. Crouch, looked over at Percy. "Yes — thank you, Weatherby"

Fred, George, and Mel had to drained their chuckles into their cups. She didn't want to make fun of him, but it was just his luck...

"Oh and I've been wanting a word with you too, Arthur," said Mr. Crouch. "Ali Bashir's on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your embargo on flying carpets."

"I sent him an owl about that just last week. If I've told him once I've told him a hundred times: Carpets are defined as a Muggle Artifact by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects, but will he listen?"

"I doubt it. He's desperate to export here." Mr. Crouch took the tea, silently thanking Percy.

"Well, they'll never replace brooms in Britain, will they?" asked Bagman.

"Ali thinks there's a niche in the market for a family vehicle," said Mr. Crouch. "I remember my grandfather had an Axminster that could seat twelve — but that was before carpets were banned, of course."

Mel was elated with the conversation. It sounded like a day-to-day coming from the men in front of her, but everything sounded so fantastical she didn't have any problems to keep up with the conversation.

"So, been keeping busy, Barty?" said Bagman.

"Fairly. Organizing Portkeys across five continents is no mean feat, Ludo."

"I expect you'll both be glad when this is over?" said Mr. Weasley.

"Glad! Don't know when I've had more fun... Still, it's not as though we haven't got anything to look forward to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organize, eh?"

"We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details —"

"Oh details!" said Bagman. "They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? I bet you anything these kids'll know soon enough anyway. I mean, it's happening at Hogwarts —"

"Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know," Mr. Crouch replied sharply. "Thank you for the tea, Weatherby."

"See you all later!" Bagman said once he got up. "You'll be up in the Top Box with me — I'm commentating!"

"What's happening at Hogwarts, Dad?" said Fred. "What were they talking about?"

"You'll find out soon enough," said Mr.Weasley, a knowing smile.

"It's classified information, until such time as the Ministry decides to release it," said Percy, clearly dying to talk about it. "Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it."

"Oh shut up, Weatherby," Fred rolled his eyes.

"Mum, do you know?" Mel asked.

"Molly mentioned it a few days back," Emily sighed. "Clearly, I'll keep it a secret. I won't be the one who ruins the surprise. However, I assure you I'm not entirely happy about it."

"Why's that?"

Emily just shook her head.

"You'll find out soon enough," She insisted, taking a sip of her tea.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@tiphareth2018​ @vampiregirl1797​ @siriuslysirius1107​ @stardusthigh​ @vernon-dursley​ @kylosleftbuttcheek​ @tomshollandz​ @bloodorangemoonlight​ @thesuitelifeofafangirl​ @reverse-hxlland​ @omiwashere​

[yukichilovesbakugo]

Within Reach Special

Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

Bakugo's Birthday

Warnings: Cursing

Master list

A/n: Happy birthday, Bakugo. I'm really happy with how this turned out. Originally this wasn't going to be a part of the story, more of just a scenario, but now it's like a side story. Anyways, this takes place sometime after the USJ incident. I hope you enjoy.

Your class has just finished hero training for the day and school was over. You were one of the first ones done changed, so you sat in the relatively quiet classroom waiting.

"Y/n-chan!" Your eyes drifted to the green haired boy walking up to you. "I wanted to talk to you. Kacchan's birthday is in a few days and the class was thinking of getting together and celebrating after class that day." He was smiling and scratching the back of his head.

"Oh, that sounds fun, I guess. When is his birthday?" You propped your head against your hand, face mostly expressionless.

"Its on Monday the twentieth. Sato volunteer to make a cake, the only problem is that everyone is busy this weekend and can't get any decorations. Plus I hear a lot of stores are sold out of party supplies anyways. That's kinda weird, I wonder why?" The mouse folded his arms and held his hand to his chin.

"Its probably because of April twentieth."

"Kacchan's birthday?" His innocent eyes peered at you. A mental sigh escaped you.

"Nevermind. Anyways, I'm free on Saturday so I can make the supplies run. I have to go out anyhow. The old fart is dragging me to a charity party and I need a new dress. Plus, I need to get Bakugo a gift too." You started to mentally calculate how much money you would need.

"The class can all chip in and reimburse you for the supplies." The mouse added, relieving you a bit. Suddenly, the door slid open harshly, startling you. The ash blond stomp to his desk.

"Anyways," your eyes lingered on the blond for a moment before you looked at Midoriya, "I'll text you about it later." Bakugo quickly shot you guys a look.

"That sounds good, Y/n-chan. I'll talk to you later." The mouse retreated, feeling the glares of his childhood friend. Before you could even sigh, the explosive boy jumped in.

"What was that about?" He had grabbed his bag and stood in front of you. You stood aswell after grabbing your bag.

"Ah, well, I was telling him about how I have to go shopping this Saturday for a charity party." You weren't actually lying to him, technically. And with your face blank, it was hard to tell you had keep a little secret. The both of you had walked out of the classroom and were on your way home.

"Oh." He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down. That's when you got a good idea.

"Do you want to join me?"

"Huh? Why would I wanna do that?" His crimson eyes met yours briefly with his signature scowl.

"I dunno. Just thought it would be better than shopping alone." You shrugged at him. After a bit of silence, he answered you.

"What time do you want me to pick you up?" He half mumbled at you. A small smile appeared subtlety on your face.

"Well, I get done with my chores and seeing guest at 10 on weekends. I can meet you at the station at 10:30 if you want?" Bakugo glanced at you for a moment.

"I'll be at the shrine by 10 and we can leave together, idiot." You chuckled slightly at him, but agreed. Soon, your came to the turn that you guys always departed at. You both waved, then went on your way. Bakugo would deny it, but he was actually pretty excited for it. You aswell. In fact, you had a small smile when you arrived home. Even your grandpa noticed. When you arrived at you room, you sat your bag down and walked to your closet. After scanning it for a bit, you took out a cute, simple f/c blouse and a pair of short bluejean overalls. Feeling content, you took a shower and got ready for bed.

°•°•°•°

The next morning, you got up at 5 am like normal. After putting on your uniform, you got to work. Your duties included sweeping the entirety of the grounds and watering the pavement. This was undoubtedly the most time consuming of your chores. Next, you cleaned the inside of the main shrine. On weekends, you would assist your grandfather with consulting guest and that is were it took place. At around 7, you would take a break and make breakfast for the two of you. Of course, after eating, guess usual start to arrive. From then one, you would prepare tea and sit in on guidance talks. At around 10, you escorted the last guess out of the gates.

"Oi." A gruff voice sounded. You turned to see the ash blond who wore a plain black tshirt and some jeans. A small smile graced your lips.

"Goodmorning, Bakugo." You bowed. After standing up, your e/c eyes made contact with his ruby ones. "I just finished the last of my chores. I'll go get changed real quick then we can leave." Bakugo watched as you turned and shuffled away. He couldn't help but think you were pretty in your uniform. You looked so elegant and refined, yet still down to earth. Just as he thought that, you returned wearing something that made you look so cute. It was such an image shift, but he didn't hate it. You guys soon took of to the station. As you waited, he spoke.

"What exactly do you need to get today?" He shoved his hands in his pocket while you tilted your head in thought.

"Well, I need to get some party supplies and a dress. The old fart said it was more of a formal gathering so I have to get something more refined." A sigh escaped you. You glanced at him and thought about what gift you should get. Unfortunately, you were coming up blank. "Also, if you want, we can grab a bite to eat afterwards. It'll be my treat since I asked you to come."

"Don't be stupid, I can pay for myself." He grumbled at you.

"No, I insist. Please?" His eyes met yours and he felt weak. After pouting a bit, he agreed. You smiled at him. Soon, the train arrived and you both boarded. It was very busy and there was barely any room. The two of you ended up next to the door as it took off. You weren't really good with crowds, but you toughed it out. However, when the train jerked and a stranger bumped into you, you felt very uneasy. Bakugo must have noticed because he grabbed you by the shoulders and turned you so you were next to the doors. He shielded you. You smiled up at him and his heart skipped a beat. He quickly hide behind his bangs. When the train arrived at your stop, you guys hurried off.

"The train was pretty busy, huh? I wonder if it's like that all the time?" You hummed as the two of you walked the streets. Soon, you came to the first store on your list. It was the party store. As soon as you walked in, you could see the were under stocked. You couldn't find a single banner or even a party hat. Fortunately though, they had some streamers. After you grabbed a few in various colors, something caught your eye. It was a large stack of colored construction paper. After thinking about it for a bit, you grabbed it, aswell as some glue and tacks. With that over with, you guy went to the next store. This was the thing you dreaded about today. The dress. Although you liked dresses, you always had a hard time finding one that looked good on you. They either made you appear as a child or made you look like you were trying to hard. Bakugo stood by you as you browsed through the dresses. With each one you looked at, you got more frustrated, until.

"What about this one?" Bakugo held up a f/c, long sleeved dress. On the hanger, you could see that it would hug your waist and taper off.

"Huh, that's actually really pretty. I'm surprised you picked it out." You looked at him. His scowl quickly deepened.

"What's that suppose to mean!? I'll have you know I have great fucking taste, idiot." He was half yelling at you. After a small chuckle, you grabbed the dress and walked to the changing room.

"Whatever, blasty." You closed the door. You were quick to change and looked in the mirror. The dress hung off your shoulders and was actually quite flowy after the waist. It reached just below your mid thigh. It really looked good on you. After pausing for a second, you walked out. "What do you think?" He glanced over at you. The boy paused and took in your slender form. His heart was beating quickly in his chest as a small blush took over his face. Instead of answering, he nodded, to afraid he would say something stupid. You turned back into the small room and closed the door. You don't know why, but it made you really nervous to show him. Normally you had no problem wearing anything. Once you had changed back, you decided to get the dress. As you waited to pay, something else caught your eye. It was a little phone strap that had a grenade on it. You looked between it and the blond that was spacing out. You grabbed it and added it to your purchase. You guy walked out at the perfect time as your stomach decided to growl.

"Where do you want to eat, shorty." He started to eye every restaurant and cafe on the street.

"I don't know, what type of food do you like?" You looked up at him as he glanced at you.

"How about something spicy?"

"Oh, that sounds good." Your eyes wandered the street until you spotted something. "What about there?" You pointed to a small traditional Japanese restaurant. After you both agreed, you headed over. You guys were quickly seated and you looked at the menu. It didn't take long for you to decide on what to eat. When the waiter walked up, Bakugo spoke.

"I'll have the Tantanmen." He handed the waiter his menu and looked at you.

"I would like the Unadon please." You copied the boy and handed the waiter your menu. Once he left, you two began to converse.

"You like Unagi?" He leaned onto his arm.

"Yeah, my dad use to make it for me when I was little." You sighed in remembrance. "He wasn't really good at cooking, but I still enjoyed it."

"Yeah?" His eyes began to soften as he looked at you.

"That was a long time ago though. What about you? Do you like spicy food?"

"Yeah, it's pretty good. Though I think my mom makes it the best." You guys continued to talk even after your food arrived. It was nice. You smiled a lot and even got the blond to crack one. After you paid and you guys left, you walked down the now busier street. That was when you spotted a someone being pushed over. On instinct, you teleported over. A group of three boys had pushed over another boy. You stood in between them.

"Is something wrong?" You asked with your emotionless face. The three trouble makers all eyed you.

"Its nothing, sweetheart." The middle one spoke and reached out to touch your shoulder. You instantly smacked him away.

"Don't touch me." You glared up. They all started to laugh.

"Oh, aren't you a feisty one. Well if you want to but into our business so bad, you can join him." The middle one pushed you back and you landed on your butt. They all laughed again as you heard some popping nearby. Before you could even do anything, Bakugo stepped in between you and them. He had one of his nastiest glares on and his quirk was going.

"OI, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, FUCK FACE!!??" Blasty was more than mad, he was furious. You stood up and grabbed his shoulder.

"Bakugo, I'm okay, calm down." He grunted at you, still holding his glare at the boys. You looked at them. "You guys should leave now, unless you want a fight." The boys all looked at each other before deciding to retreat. They stomped and grumbled, but left regardless. You sighed and kneeled in front of the victim.

"Are you okay?" Your hand was held out for him to take. He nodded and grab it, standing up with you.

"Thank you so much! I'm so sorry about this." He bowed at you. You're face turned to one of relief.

"It's okay, I'm glad you're okay. If you get into trouble like that again, don't be afraid to yell for help. Someone will definitely be willing." You smiled softly as he nodded and left, then turned to Bakugo. "Thank you, by the way." He instantly started to grumble.

"Why didn't you dodge?" He crossed his arms.

"Well," you scratched the back of your head, "there was no need to."

"What!?"

"What I mean is if I moved, they could have easily gone for the boy again. Besides, they didn't pose and serious threat against me." You sighed. The blond was still mad, but he seemed to calm a bit.

"Whatever, just don't do it again." He grumbled as he started walking away. You joined him as you guys started to return home. It was really peaceful, and overall you had a good day. When you arrived at the steps to the shrine. You said your goodbyes to the ash blond.

"I had fun. Thank you for coming with me." You smiled. "I'll see you at school on Monday." Bakugo looked at you, eyes lingering a bit, before turning to leave.

"Yeah. Same, or whatever. Bye." With that, he left. You walked up to your house and entered. After settling in you started working with the paper in the living room. You cut out letters and started streaming them together. Once that was done, you started to make a party hat. After awhile, your grandpa walked in.

"What are you doing?" He looked at all the colored paper on the coffee table.

"I'm making party supplies."

"Oh, is it for a friend." He sat on the couch with his tea. You nodded and he smiled. He was happy, knowing you had grown out of your shell a little more.

°•°•°•°

It seemed like classes on Monday couldn't end sooner. You and Midoriya had talked some more and had a game plan. You were to distract Bakugo for a bit while the class put up the decorations and Sato grabbed the cake. You took the explosive boy and pretended to start walking home. When you reached to gate, you gasped.

"Oh, I'm sorry Bakugo. I think I forgot my notebook. Will you come with me back to the class?" He grumbled, but compiled anyways. You guys slowly made it back to your class where you opened the door for him.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BAKUGO!!!" The class yelled in unison as they huddled around Sato and the cake. Bakugo stood with his scowl, but secretly he was a bit happy. Everyone started joking around and laughing as each of them gave him a present. It was really a lively time. It wasn't long though till everyone started to clean up because they had to actually go home. When it all settled down, you and Bakugo started to head home for real. You smiled at him and spoke.

"Did you have fun?" You hummed.

"I guess." He grumbled, "I can't believe shitty deku told everyone about my birthday. Is that why you bought those party supplies? I thought they were for the charity thing."

"Nope, they were for you. I never said they were for the charity." You chuckled. You guys talked about the party and how ridiculous your friends were the whole way home. When it came to where you guys part, you stood and faced him. You felt a little nervous.

"I didn't get to give you this earlier, but happy birthday." You handed him a small bag that had 'Happy birthday' written on it. He quickly opened it and pulled out the phone charm you bought. He looked at the little grenade.

"Thanks." Although he had his scowl on, you could tell he was a little happy. After saying your goodbyes, you left.

Later that night Bakugo laid in his bed and held up the phone strap. He smiled ever so slightly as he got up and put it on his phone.

Tag list: @maisyyx @gayverlinq @loxbbg @whisperingwolfie

[anthony-kate]

***Well... clearly a lot has happened during this on-going hiatus, huh? I mean, I could maybe go on another rant of this absolute nonsense but I believe you are just as tired as me. Besides, there are way better things to spend your time with---reading Malec fanfics, for example. I dunno about you but those fics always cheer me up and put me in a better mood, so I hope this will be the case for you, too.

Anyway, thanks so much for all the love for the previous rec’s and I hope you enjoy this 8th(!) edition of Malec fanfic rec’s as much as the other ones. As always, I am curious to know what you think of it, so let me know. Even more so, leave a comment or/and kudo for the authors---we all need the validation and it is just a nice gesture after their fics kept you entertained for a little while.***

Volume 1

Volume 2

Volume 3

Volume 4

Volume 5

Volume 6

Volume 7

MR CONGENIALITY by @stupidnephilimlove [ M | AU | 28.7k | complete ]

When a terrorist threatens to bomb the Mr United States pageant, FBI Special Agent Alexander Lightwood is chosen to go undercover. His partner, Jace Herondale, thinks he's doing Alec a favour by choosing him, but Alec's disgruntled. He considers the idea of a male beauty pageant - hell, any pageant - degrading.

As he progresses through the rounds, Alec struggles to fight a growing attraction to pageant consultant Magnus Bane, forms unlikely friendships with contestants, and learns that Mr United States is much more than just a beauty pageant.

But with limited time, can he uncover the person behind the threat before it's too late?

BEST LAID PLANS by @superficialpeasant [ E | 74.2k | WIP | Best Laid Plans #1 ]

When a High Warlock looking to end his celibacy streak meets a Shadowhunter after no-baggage thrills, the two make a deal: anytime, anywhere, no strings attached.

CASUAL WIN by @superficialpeasant  [ E | 6.5k | complete | Best Laid Plans #2 ]

Alec tries new things, and Magnus rediscovers the joy of laughing during sex (a ‘Best Laid Plans’ one-shot).

SET ME IN MOTION by @lemonoclefox [ M | AU | 132k | complete ]

“Is that your way of asking me to cook for you sometime?” Alec says. “'Cause I will.” The moment the words escape his mouth, Alec finds himself slightly panicking. Because he does not talk like that, ever―in a way that might even be considered flirting―and he still doesn’t understand what it is about Magnus that brings stuff like that out of him. More importantly, he has a boyfriend. Magnus, however, just looks mildly surprised as their eyes meet. “My, my. Master chef, good family name, and charming?” Magnus tilts his head ever so slightly. “Careful, Mr. Lightwood,” he says in a low, teasing voice, mouth curving up in a smile. “You’re gonna make me swoon.” ---

One night, Magnus spots a handsome stranger in the elevator of his apartment building – which wouldn’t be a big deal if said stranger didn’t turn out to be dating Magnus’s neighbor. The stranger soon becomes Alec, and their paths end up crossing more than once. A tentative friendship develops as they slowly get to know each other, and they both find that it’s effortless in a way neither of them has ever known. It's only when other kinds of feelings start getting involved that things become a bit more complicated.

ON STRANGER TIDES by @lecrit [ E | AU | 53.7k | complete | A Pirate’s Life For Me #2 ]

Alec kissed him like he had the first time, desperately, but tenderly, with all the rashness of a man in love. It was Magnus who pulled back, thumb gently brushing over Alec’s cheekbone. “I’m going to miss this,” he said, voice pitched low, “when we get back to Alicante.” “As will I,” Alec allowed, bowing his head to rest his forehead against Magnus’. “But I know we can show them how it’s done, you and I.”

As long as he had this, the unconditional love of an extraordinary man, the gift of his passion behind closed doors and the tenderness of his eyes in the secrecy of his mind, as long as there was their burning bodies melting together to express what words couldn’t, Alec didn’t need to worry. What was the worst that could happen?

A TINY SPARK by @magicandarchery [ E | AU | 55.7k | complete ]

As a firefighter for the FDNY, Alec Lightwood and his battalion respond to an emergency call for an apartment fire. After rushing a young, soon-to-be mother out of the burning building and to safety, Alec must deliver her newborn baby.

He never expected the little girl to spark an inexplicable bond between them. After a prior adoption fell through in a devastating way, should he and Magnus even hope they might be able to adopt her?

EXIT POLLING by @unrestrainedlyexcessive [ E | AU | 14.7k | complete ]

You can have ambition or love, but you can’t have both. ---

a political au: magnus is a political fixer, and alec is the poor fool hoping to be mayor.

STARS IN YOUR EYES by @carmenlire [ not rated | 2.1k | complete ]

Huh. His door is standing open but there’s no one in his office. He’s about to stand up and close the door when he hears a giggle. Alec smiles, and leans back in his seat waiting for-- Ah, there it is. A pair of big blue eyes are peeking around the corner of his desk. Alec makes a show of focusing on the inventory spreadsheet in front of him. He silently starts counting to five in his head. He barely makes it to three before an enthusiastic body launches itself at him. Alec has help with his Head of the Institute duties.

THE ONE THING (I CAN’T GET ENOUGH OF) by @floralegia [ M | AU | 28.7k | complete ]

Alec wasn't expecting to enjoy this summer locked away with his family at a posh resort in the Catskills, just biding his time until he can go home in the fall and then finally, finally move out and escape to college. He was expecting to alternate between bored out of his mind and frustrated with his father's heavy-handed attempts to set him up with Aline, whose parents own the resort, as a last-ditch attempt to pretend Alec didn't come out six months prior.

Enter Magnus Bane.

OR: a Dirty Dancing AU.

I NEED YOU (DO YOU NEED ME?) by discoveries [ T | AU | 6.5k | complete ]

“I am your ex, you are a cop, and I just got arrested for being drunk and disorderly."

THE ANSWER IS “NO” (BUT BABY IT’S COLD OUTSIDE) by @la-muerta [ M | AU | 9.3k | complete | A Game Of Pitch And Catch #1 ]

It's Christmas Eve, but instead of being home with his siblings watching cheesy television and eating pizza, Alec Lightwood is stuck in a small town in the middle of nowhere because of a snow storm. Worse, he's going to have to share a room at an over-priced B&B with his sister's annoying boss, Magnus Bane. They'll be lucky if this Christmas doesn't end in bloodshed.

OUT OF LEFT FIELD by @la-muerta [ E | AU | 13.5k | complete | A Game Of Pitch And Catch #2 ]

Alec and Magnus didn't expect this attraction between them, but they'd agreed to give it a chance. And if this was going to be more than just sex, then it made sense to take sex off the table for now... or at least that was the game plan.

Well. When life throws you curveballs, there's only one thing to do - knock it out of the park!

WELL AT LEAST SOMEBODY NOTICED... by @the-burning-tiger [ G | AU | 2.7k | complete ]

Alec Lightwood is seriously regretting his life choices. If it weren't bad enough that he was on the blind date from hell, his work nemesis Magnus Bane just walked in.

IT’S GETTING HOT IN HERE by @astudyinfic [ E | PWP | 4.9k | complete | Institutional Series #1 ]

When Alec is late for date night, Magnus goes to the Institute to retrieve his workaholic boyfriend.

But it turns out that Alec is cooking up a lot more than dinner.

STUDYING HARD by @astudyinfic [ E | PWP | 5.1k | complete | Institutional Series #2 ]

Magnus wanted a chance to pay Alec back for the kitchen incident, as he liked to refer to it, but work kept getting in the way.

But when Alec gets stuck in the Institute library doing research, Magnus eagerly offers to help. However, it appears very little research will actually get done.

Revenge never felt so good.

HAPPY SHINY PEOPLE EVERYWHERE by @unrestrainedlyexcessive [ E | AU | 18.1k | complete ]

Alec emerges from one of the bathroom stalls already fully dressed in a gray suit, plain white dress shirt, and hair neatly combed.

He looks like he always does, which is to say: painfully handsome and angry at the world.

A week into his new living arrangements and Magnus has realized that no matter where Izzy goes, she wears towering stilettos that hurt Magnus just to look at them, Jace is a mostly harmless douchebag, and Alec is a big mystery, their very own Phantom of the Loft.

VITULA by @lightwormsiblings [ G | AU | 1.9k | complete ]

Alec vaguely registers that he’s standing in the middle of the sidewalk and blocking people’s path but he can’t stop staring.

He’s beautiful. Not just because he’s outwardly gorgeous, but because of the way his eyes slip closed whenever he crescendos and the way his body seems to move fluidly to the music he’s creating.

Or the one where Alec becomes particualarily enamored with a street violinist

THE STORM, THE WHIRLWIND, THE EARTHQUAKE by @alecsgideon [ G | AU | 1.4k | complete | Small Town Verse #2 ]

Lightning has a way of changing Alec's life

CALL IT LUCK (CALL IT FATE) by the_crownless_queen [ not rated | AU | 17.5k | complete ]

When Izzy rents out a house in Corsica, the last thing Alec expects it to meet the man of his dreams while running on a beach there.

THREE TO MAKE A PAIR by @like-a-bucky [ M | AU | 47.8k | complete ]

Magnus is a good friend and the absolute best roommate in the world, so of course when Jace begs him to pretend to be his boyfriend for his family's 4th of July barbecue, he says yes. Enters Alec, Jace's gorgeous brother. Aaaand Magnus is screwed.

EVERYTHING HE COULD NEVER BE by @alecsgideon [ T | AU | 21.7k | complete ]

In between jobs, Alec and his son, Max, move to Alec's mother's country home where they meet Magnus and his son, Rafael - the small family Maryse rented the 1st floor out to. As a big city MD and single dad, Alec finds himself fascinated by Magnus' eccentric healing practice, parenting methods and deep brown eyes.

And while preparing for the move to London, finally spending time with his son, and juggling his growing affection towards Magnus, the ghosts of Alec's childhood threaten to disturb the peace he'd found surrounded by his family.

BLUE JEANS AND BLUE SKY by @like-a-bucky [ M | AU | 57.6k | complete ]

Magnus was seven years old when he arrived in Colorado to start his new life - with new parents, a new language, a new everything. Making friends would have helped him, except that his first encounter with the neighbours' kids didn't go too well, and Magnus vowed to hate the Lightwoods forever.

Forever. No matter what.

IT’S US AGAINST THE UNIVERSE, BABY by @la-muerta [ E | PWP | AU | 12.9k | complete | The Universe is Conspiring Against Us #5 ]

Magnus and Alec have been happily married for seven years now. They've started their own law practice, and they have three beautiful children together. They should have known the universe wasn't going to leave them to their happily ever after.

Then again, nobody messes with Mr and Mr Lightwood-Bane - not even the universe.

YOU KNOW WE’RE GONNA DO IT RIGHT by @unrestrainedlyexcessive [ E | AU | 26.7k | complete | Happily Ever After, Kind Of #1 ]

"So, like, this is--what? A pity date? Good press? Take the poor college kid out, let people see you mingle with the commoners?"

"No," Magnus says, "I like you."

Alec shakes his head. "You don't even know me."

"Does anyone ever really know another person?"

"Boy," Alec says, fiddling with his napkin, "I love philosophy."

---

A royalty au. Magnus is a prince. Alec is perpetually stressed out.

THE CHEMISTRY BETWEEN US by @astudyinfic [ M | AU | 42.2k | complete ]

Izzy's parents will never accept her new boyfriend, whom they expect her to bring home for the holidays. Enter her best friend and colleague Magnus. Sure, pretending to date is a terrible idea in the movies but as neither of them harbors any secret love for the other, Magnus figures this should be a simple weekend in the Hamptons with his friend.

Until he meets Isabelle's brother and Magnus knows they have all the elements of a chemical reaction that is about to blow up in his face.

MIGHT AS WELL by @carmenlire [ not rated | AU | 3.1k | complete ]

The two of them stare at each other for long minutes. Alec doesn’t know if Magnus is waiting for him to speak first but now, laying here with Magnus just inches away and feeling like it might as well be an oceanic chasm, he’s too tired to keep the words from slipping out.

After all, what’s the worst thing that could happen? He’s already staring down the face of his world imploding, just because he was stupid enough to fall for someone who wouldn’t ever be interested in him like that.

GOING DOWN by @lecrit [ M | AU | 6.7k | complete ]

Of all the days in all the years Alec has worked here, and of all the people who work in this building that he could have found himself stuck with, the Universe chose to trap him in an elevator with Magnus Bane on the day his sister is giving birth. Well, fuck you too, Universe.

[margotbaldwin-blog]

( LILY JAMES, FEMALE, SHE/HER ) I, MARGOT BALDWIN am a SCHOLARSHIP student and would hereby like to submit my application to Kingswood Boarding School. I am SEVENTEEN years old and will be a JUNIOR. I would describe myself as DRIVEN and OPEN-MINDED, but also DEFENSIVE and STUBBORN which I plan to work on during my time here. This is my request to join the VICTORIA building as a house MEMBER and look forward to hearing back from you.

hi guys ! i’m chels, currently on the east coast, and i’m in love with lily james. i wanna plot with as many as you as i can so please please please message me if you’d like. ps - i hope you like my lil baby margot.

stats !

name: margot analise baldwin

faceclaim: lily james

age: seventeen ( 17 )

sexuality: heterosexual

grade: junior ( scholarship student )

house: victoria

not a new student, has been here since freshman year

mini biography !

margot is an only child. born to a secretary and business consultant, she lived a comfortable lifestyle. she was neither rich nor poor, but that didn’t bother her. there wasn’t anything that could beat the bond she had with her family. the baldwin family cared more about education than anything else, which instilled the idea that intelligence and making a name for herself was more important than gaining and flaunting materialistic things.

compared to other schools, it was known to her that kingswood boarding school was the best of the best. from the outside, margot knew it was for the elite. and although she was nowhere close to elitism, it was the school her parents had been eyeing for years. they continuously pushed her to get the best grades. if they couldn’t pay the ridiculous amount, they would make sure she received a scholarship.

a scholarship, in the eyes of her parents, was the result of hard work and dedication. while other students at kingswood got in due to money and status, margot worked her way in—something she was admittedly proud of and not afraid to defend.

it was obvious the lack of respect anyone that wasn’t there on scholarship gave to those that were there on it, but ignoring their remarks came easily to her. sometimes, anyway. as much as it did bother her, she reminded herself that there was only one more year of it. then she’d be surrounded by people that didn’t judge others on what they wore or what they came from, but instead, who they were on the inside.

personality !

margot has always been independent. from a young age, she rarely—if ever—relied on another person. she would always do things on her own unless help was absolutely needed.

she welcomes everyone with open arms... well, unless she has a reason not to like them. she’s also driven and won’t back down from a challenge, no matter how difficult it may seem.

on the downside, margot’s also stubborn when she’s told she can’t do something or she’s wrong. she’s defensive when it comes to other’s talking about her ability to be at the school and lack of money or status.

overall, she’s a person that cares more about a person than how much money, status, or things they have. looks for the best in someone, which can get her hurt.

yet, sometimes she’s hypocritical. she doesn’t like being judged for not having things, but sometimes judges those that have everything. 

wanted connections !

i would also be up for filling any of your connections, as well!

close friends. ( open ) — maybe a group? like a squad? or just one person? someone / people she can rely on.

secretive. ( open ) — honestly, this can go so many ways. dating, hooking up, friendship, whatever! maybe it’s looked down on. by peers or family. maybe it’s not. i dunno. so much to go on.

tutor. ( open ) — one tree hill naley type of thing? he keeps bugging margot about tutoring him and she obviously doesn’t like him, so she keeps saying no. until she says yes one day.

unlikely duo. ( open ) — basically what it says. two people that others wouldn’t imagine being friends.

aaaand that’s all i can conjour up at the moment... but i’m up for almost anything so hit me with your suggestions if you have some !

[worangetravellertravels]

The Reality of Mr. Karma

Hello. I... am Karma.

And just with that word ringing in your ears I can feel SO MANY different emotions by every single one of you.

Some of you are scared of me like I’m a Grim Reaper that comes to take again what you maliciously have taken.

Some worship me like a God. Living theirs lifes through my sagely advice/warnings.

Some of you see me as a Stranger demanding why I’m here too early or too late.

Some see me as a Puzzle. As the weirdset cause and effect posible and while nonesensical you know I’m always around.

Some do not believe in me. And that’s okay... but the back of your head always wonders “what if?”

Some use me for religious teachings, popular singings and many more things... I am EVERYWHERE

And in that everywhere I have come to a funny conclusion... you all more or less fear me. And you should! 

But not for what you think...

You see. I’m not real. I’m not a force of nature. You can’t quantify me, messure me, and even less predict me. I’m just like... a boogieman haunting your dreams, your nightmares... your life.

I’m not here to torment you though (even when it is quite fun) I’m just here to remind you the REAL element of Karma that is unavoidable: you reap what you sow.

Imagine if you will a person. That due to jealousy and loneliness did all in their power to get with their crush. Doing despicable acts of cruelty and hate. That person will get their time with their “loved one” but eventually everything will be know, because it always does and the loneliness or even pain that person will have to endure... I wouldn’t wish that to my greatest enemy.

Yes many people can say Karma will never get them or don’t believe in it but something that will ALWAYS remain true outside of Karma, outside of me it’s that every action has consequences, rather external OR internal (you think those that do attrocities think it’s okay? If they do their head is already a mess).

I’m not here to blame you, shame you or even judge you... I’m here to warn you: REMEMBER YOUR ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES AND YOU WILL ALWAYS PAY FOR THEM ONE WAY OR THE OTHER.

Can you make that into a positive? That will always be up to you.

Notes:

Sorry the delay guys, felt lazy last night (plus didnt got a comfortable place to write) but anyway here’s my... not a story but a monologue. A word of warning of what is Karma in reality to me.

Not real deep meaning to this one I think, pretty plain to see if you ask me.

Not even a song this time... dunno... I dont wanna say I’m out of it and I certainly dont wanna stop... but something makes me feel uninspired I think? I dunno... might need to consult it with my bed.

[oldwarriors-fireandwater]

Chapter Nineteen

The sun had set when Leopardfur and the other RiverClan cats returned. Firepaw was eating just outside the apprentice den when he heard the border reeds rustling and low voices from within them.

“Crookedstar is furious,” he heard Voleclaw inform Leopardfur.

Leopardfur kept a level gaze with the large tom. Without so much as a word or even a grunt, she stepped past him and continued into camp. Others filed in behind her—all bedraggled and bloody.

Firepaw gulped quickly, nearly choking on his mouthful of carp. They really attacked ThunderClan, he thought. I hope everyone’s okay, at least.

Sedgestream hurried for Crookedstar’s den. She returned outside a moment later, the leader behind her.

Crookedstar fixed Leopardfur with a furious glare. He was bristling from nose to tail tip. “Get. Over. Here. Now.”

To Leopardfur’s credit, she didn't show a trace of fear or anxiety. Her expression was cool and composed as ever. “You're back,” she said.

“What exactly did you think would happen?” Crookedstar demanded. “Did you think you would all sneak out to ThunderClan and make it back, then keep it a secret you had attacked them without my orders?” His voice rose in volume with each passing moment.

Cats began to creep out from the warriors’ den and nursery to observe. The others who had left exchanged glances, but no one said a word. It was clear the issue was between leader and deputy.

“Not really,” Leopardfur replied. Her voice remained even. “But what would you have me do? I had two warriors raving about attacking an enemy Clan. Beetleclaw decided he would fight with or without my permission.” She flicked an ear. “If I had left him and Frogleap to their own devices, they would have single-handedly gotten themselves both killed and RiverClan would be shamed. What kind of Clan would we look like if neither leader nor deputy had given them orders to fight?”

Firepaw listened, his meal forgotten. He had never heard Leopardfur speak at such length—she was a cat of few words, but it was clear she had thought through her reasoning.

Crookedstar parted his jaws, but the tom was clearly caught off-guard by her composed reply. After a moment, he curled his lip. “Either way,” he snarled. “You allowed—no, encouraged—an attack against a strong enemy, all while I was consulting our ancestors for guidance on our next steps against them. You could have confined them to a den, punished them—”

Leopardfur cut him off. “—And we would still have two enraged warriors fighting off their own Clanmates to get revenge for the death of Sunwhisker.”

Beetleclaw took a step towards them. “Crookedstar, let me explain—”

Crookedstar jerked his gaze in the warrior’s direction. “You—” he spat. “Do not speak. You will be punished, be sure of that. Frogleap, too.”

Frogleap only bowed his head, but Beetleclaw narrowed his eyes defiantly. “I am a senior warrior,” he growled. “I am the son of Hailstar. I—”

“You are neither leader nor deputy,” Crookedstar snapped. “Yet you have been a thorn in my side since before either of us were warriors. But never have you shown such blatant disregard for my leadership, for the warrior code, or for the safety of your Clanmates!” Crookedstar’s tail lashed. “You want to fight for your kits, but your foolishness will get them killed if this leads to war!”

Beetleclaw flinched. “But, Crookedstar…”

“Enough,” Crookedstar growled. “Go to Mudfur’s den and get yourself cleaned up.” He turned back to Leopardfur. “As for you, I will be seriously reconsidering your position as deputy.”

Now Leopardfur’s eyes darkened with anger. “I did the best I could considering the situation,” she growled. “I either let a couple fools run off to their deaths and make it clear neither of us have a grasp on our warriors, or make a show of unity and fight. But this is all irrelevant.”

Crookedstar’s scowl only deepened. “How, exactly, is this ‘irrelevant’?”

“Because ShadowClan was already attacking them when we arrived,” Leopardfur said.

Firepaw blinked. What are the odds of that?

Crookedstar looked surprised. His look of anger began to fade. “They what?”

Leopardfur nodded. “I would have pulled our warriors out quickly if it was just ThunderClan. But their Clan was in the middle of a battle when we reached their ravine. You didn't see how they fought—they were attacking queens. I saw a cat drag a kit from the nursery and kill it.”

That's horrible! Firepaw sat up quickly. How could any cat do that? His stomach swirled at the thought.

Crookedstar grew very quiet. “My dream was right… I was warned we had a greater enemy than ThunderClan.”

Leopardfur’s tail twitched. “The thing was, I couldn't recognize half the cats fighting for ShadowClan. They didn't smell like them, either. They're recruiting rogues and getting them to kill. The ShadowClan warriors fought as any other warrior would, but the rogues… they were ripping apart nests, going for killing bites… I don't think ThunderClan’s medicine cat survived, either.”

Rogues fighting for ShadowClan? Firepaw thought. But why?

“Spottedleaf is dead?” Crookedstar asked. He let out a sigh, then fell silent for a few moments. “How did the battle end?”

“ShadowClan eventually retreated,” Leopardfur said. “ThunderClan are mange-pelts, but they know how to fight. Brokenstar promised me he would do the same to us if we didn't ‘fall in line’. I assume he’s decided to extend his demand for hunting rights to other Clans.”

Crookedstar looked uncertain. Leopardfur’s news had clearly caught him off guard. “Did Thistlestar say anything to you?”

Leopardfur shrugged. “We all… more or less left the reason for our appearance unspoken. Even he wouldn't have insulted us for helping, regardless of the fact that we intended to attack them.” She twitched her whiskers. “He did say he might pay us a visit. It didn't sound like there was a threat implied.”

“I see,” Crookedstar replied. “Well. Tomorrow I will call together the senior warriors and we will discuss this matter. For now, you all need to see Mudfur or Yellowfang.” He fixed Frogleap with a hard stare. “Neither you nor Beetleclaw are to leave camp until I decide on your punishment.”

Frogleap had the decency to look ashamed and nod silently. The tabby tom quietly crept away towards the medicine cats’ den.

Crookedstar flicked his tail. “I suppose that's all. Go get some rest.” The large tom turned and retreated back to his den.

Firepaw watched as the patrol slowly made their way to Mudfur’s den. He caught a glimpse of Beechpaw and Silverpaw at the back of the group, so he abandoned his meal and rose to pad towards them.

Beechpaw twitched his whiskers in greeting. “Hey,” he meowed. “How was the trip?”

“Seriously?” Firepaw replied, eyes wide. “You went off to fight ThunderClan and you wanna know how my trip was?”

Silverpaw glared at him. “Go away, kittypet. You’re bothering the real warriors.”

Firepaw scoffed. Another time, Firepaw would have been bothered by the comment, but he hardly cared. Silverpaw’s pelt was a mess and he was missing a tuft of fur from his cheek - it was impossible to take the tom seriously. “You’re not even a warrior, Silverpaw.” He flicked his tail dismissively and looked back to Beechpaw.

Beechpaw rolled his eyes. “I didn’t really decide to go, I just got dragged along. It was crazy, though. Who would’ve thought ShadowClan wanted to attack them at the same time we did?”

Firepaw shrugged. “It seems really weird.” He frowned and lowered his voice. “Is it true they were killing kits?”

Beechpaw sighed. “I didn’t see it, but apparently so. I’d like to get my claws on the mange-pelt who did.”

Firepaw unsheathed his claws for a moment. “So would I.”

Beechpaw let out a yawn and arched his back in a stretch. “StarClan, I can’t wait to sleep. I’m beat.”

In the excitement of everything, Firepaw had nearly forgotten his own exhaustion from the trek to Highstones. “Me too. You coming to the den after you see Mudfur?”

Beechpaw nodded. “You bet. See you there?”

“Sure.” Firepaw turned away with a flick of his tail and headed back across camp towards the apprentice’s den. He ducked inside. Firepaw quickly headed for his nest, circled around it a few times, and let out a soft sigh as he settled down in it. I want to sleep for a moon, he thought.

Grasspaw’s voice made him open his eyes. “Hey, Firepaw?”

Firepaw lifted his head. Grasspaw was sitting alone in the back of the den. He looked a bit nervous—the apprentice’s tail kept twitching. “Yeah, Grasspaw?”

“I… I wanted to ask you something,” Grasspaw meowed. “It’s… er, it’s about me.”

Firepaw frowned. He rolled over in his nest to face him. “What’s up?”

“I - well, I… I wanted to ask if you could call me ‘she’ from now on.” Grasspaw’s eyes darted to the side.

Firepaw blinked, feeling a bit confused. “What?”

“You know…” Grasspaw’s ears flattened. “Instead of ‘he’. I… sort of lied about my dream… I didn’t dream about hunting. I met some cat and we talked and, well… she made me think I could actually do it. Not be a tom anymore. And then I was talking to Minkpaw about it and she said there’s this cat over in ThunderClan that’s a tom even though he wasn’t one when he was a kit and I think he’s one of Sandpaw’s fathers or something and…” Grasspaw shook himself a bit. “Now I’m rambling. Anyway, the dream and hearing about him got me thinking… That it would be okay to ask. I just think it would make me more comfortable and... I dunno. Would you?”

Firepaw was quiet a moment. He wasn’t sure he really understood entirely what Grasspaw was going on about. But if it’ll make Grasspaw happy, it can’t hurt to do it. “Sure, Grasspaw. I can do that.”

Grasspaw purred loudly. “Thank you!” The apprentice settled down in her own nest and continued to purr.

Firepaw rolled back over and tucked his nose under his paws. He was awake long enough to see Beechpaw return to the den, and he fell asleep not long after his friend laid down nearby.

[nightskiespony]

Journalling again

I dunno if i’m up to doing this again everyday but I kinda miss it.

So what’s happened in the months since I last journalled? Lost one job, got another. Went to the ER for depression for the first time (recently) and went to a therapy group for depression too.

Got shitty insurance with my new job too (consulting company, i’m a contractor). Everything is after-deductable prettymuch. However my hospital bill showed insurance covering part of it for some reason. I’m glad but I can’t really afford out-of-pocket for meds, appointments, or anything. So I’m kinda stuck without any kind of treatment prettymuch. I figure God is big enough for whatever is happening next. My parents forced vitamins and shit on me the other day (i’ve not remembered to take any yet either) but I never believed or experienced any affects from vitamins (and probably didn’t take them long enough either - 6 months is supposably the time after which you’ll feel some change).

In the past month or so I’ve made some good friends on gmod and I’ve tended to stay up till like 2 am almost every night. This has absolutely killed my work schedule and I wasn’t able to make it to my therapy group many days because of that. Now it’s just killing my work schedule. Since my work doesn’t really mind my working part time essentially I’m just taking a pay cut. And because of that I’m barely paying my bills and rent. Ughh.

The other night I offered to help someone out financially but if I can’t get it together financially then that isn’t going to happen. I don’t want to disappoint them though. Maybe it could be purpose-giving to work in order to give to others in need. I’ve always had trouble finding a purpose for me to work hard at boring jobs. I always used to say that since I don’t have a family to care for therefore I am unmotivated to work hard/sacrificially.

I can’t say how many times in the past month I’ve felt like ending it ... unfortunately. The financial troubles really get to me. My job is boring. I blame all this on depression really. But maybe it’s possible that I’m just lazy. I’d say I’m unmotivated. And I don’t believe that I am able to achieve my goals (losing weight, finding a wife). My depression comes down to that prettymuch - I don’t believe I can do it. Finding a wife I think is actually mostly out of my control too. I am going to the gym but it’s not having a huge impact. And I’m gonna have to stick with that for an entire year to make my goal. And I have no idea if my diet is sabotaging it all. I’m terrible with self control about food. I just eat nothing but fast food and salads/vegetables only on the rare occasion that I feel like it. One thing I know that’s gonna get me is when my calorie requirements differ from my eating. I’m a very habitual eater. I tend to eat the same thing for breakfast for months on end then I change it when I feel like it. Almost the same thing with dinner, if I even eat it. It depends on how many hours I’m awake that day.

Anyways I’m so sick of this shit. All I ever wanted to do was fall in love.

In the meantime, hanging out with my friends on gmod holds me out of the depths. I look forward to that every day. But it doesn’t always lift me up. I give into my addiction otherwise (or regardless, I like that too, admittedly).

Oh I did write an alternate ending to “The Friendship Test” by Magpiepony on FimFiction.net . It got pretty positive reviews and one person even said “it was written fantastically”. I’m not even an author. I am shit at writing my own stories from scratch. I’m better at writing fanfics where the characters and universe are already laid out for me. Only struggle from there is plot. I’m not good at coming up with that either. And oftentimes I can come up with a beginning but not an ending. I mean, it really depends on whether I’ve come up with the universe and characters or not. I’m much better at finishing other’s stories. Generally according to how I think it should end. Anyways... that was encouraging knowing that I have some ability.

Welp... gotta work now. Damn I need a new job, but would any other company put up with my shit? If I lost my job here I really don’t know what I’d do. Right now would be a very bad time to lose my job. That would break me down pretty hard. I don’t think I’d kill myself but the thought would surely cross my mind. I hope I don’t lose it.

[bananniewrites]

A Chilly Welcome Home

Princess Genevieve (16/?)

Genevieve rumbled along in the wagon with Matt and Rowan, finally on the path headed straight for home. But she wasn’t as excited as she wanted to be; instead, her thoughts lingered on Peter, whom she left behind. The town they dropped him off at faded further and further away until it was a tiny dot on the brilliant horizon, swamped with the hues of the sunrise. She squinted into the sun, watching the sun steadily float higher into the sky, turning the sky its usual light blue, until the cart’s passage into the forest filtered its beams. In the forest the air was cooler, and Gen remembered the cloak she still had. She wrapped it tighter, but wasn’t very cold.

Matt broke the silence. “So… are you excited to go back home? It’s been at least a couple of days since you were at King Ranthum’s castle, right?”

Gen thought for a moment. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “Time’s been kinda funny for me lately.” Another moment of silence passed before she asked, “Matt, why did you become a thief?”

He shrugged. “I was young and stupid and got myself into a bit of trouble with someone called The Weasel.” She snorted. “Laugh all you want, but they’ve got a criminal organization across Onirea and Kakor. Especially in Kakor. Some of the higher-ups are nasty little parasites. Anyway, I got into a bit of trouble and now I owe The Weasel money until they feel like easing up on me. What about you, Rowan?”

“Same thing, more or less,” Rowan called back. “Gave a bit of bad information and one of the higher-ups paired me with you. Said The Weasel was being ‘generous’ to pool our debts.”

They continued to roll along until King Omar’s castle came into view. It was surrounded by hills covered in fruit trees, gardens, and guards decorated with the kingdom’s colors: light blue, white, and dark green. The castle itself was painted white and the kingdom’s flags flew on the towering spires. On the flag was a horizontal light blue cross with a dark green border on a white background.

A guard came near and halted the horse. “State your business.”

“We seek an audience with the King and Queen of Onirea,” Rowan answered. “We have their daughter and we would like to take her home.”

The guard squinted at Genevieve, who took off the hood so he could recognize her, but he frowned. “Wait here,” he instructed the thieves, then marched to the neighboring guard and muttered something Gen couldn’t hear. The two guards drew near Gen, then the consulted one slapped the first upside the head. “That’s Princess Genevieve, idiot! The adopted one! We’re letting her in, too!”

The consulted guard turned to Rowan. “Is it just Princess Genevieve that you have sir?”

“Yes sir,” Rowan replied. The guard took hold of the reins while the first guard rang a messenger. The wagon continued to roll on its way into the castle as the messenger ran further ahead, and Gen watched the familiar scenery of the flowing fields where she used to romp and roam. Well-manicured grass on rolling hills and evenly-spaced trees with sprawling branches perfect for climbing and swinging on seemed welcoming, but Gen felt like a guest now instead of a returning member of the family. Maybe the guard who didn’t recognize her had something to do with it. Was he just new? Had they never met before?

Rowan leaned over towards Matt, his whispers just catching on Gen’s ears: “Matt, do you think they’ll still pay us? I mean we did return the princess safe and sound, but is that reward a promise the king intends to keep? I’m just thinking that if he saw the… posters… around town?”

“I dunno,” Matt whispered back. “If they do recognize us, we can apologize and promise that we can stop our…” Matt glanced at the guards leading the cart to the swirling iron patterns of the double doored gates of the castle, then continued, “...habits with the reward, as we’re only trying to pay off debts--”

“But how do we know they’re not going to throw us in the dungeon?”

A guard near Rowan turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Why would Their Royal Majesties throw you two in the dungeon?”

“No reason,” Rowan blurted. The guard glanced between them, squinting.

“He gets nervous meeting royalty,” Matt reasoned quickly. “It makes him jump to wild conclusions.” The guard warily nodded and continued on until the cart came to a stop and they were ordered out. From there, they were escorted through another blossoming courtyard and through the great hall to the throne room, completely surrounded by guards.

The throne room was small but decadent; the walls had a light blue color laced with winding, dipping, dizzying patterns of gold that were lit by three candelabras on each side of the room and a chandelier that spat light but didn’t take up much space. The stone floor was mostly hidden by dark green carpet, and only betrayed itself at the candelabras so as not to drip wax onto the carpet. Across the throne room on top of carpet-covered steps and beneath elegant white silk drapes were two thrones, occupied by King Omar of Onirea on the left and Queen Adeline of Onirea on the right. 

Omar was brown-haired and whiskered, with grey peppered in to blend the color lighter than it was ten years ago. His eyes were dark brown like soil after rain and his mouth was set in an expressionless straight line. His jaw was not chiseled, but rather rounded out like baby cheeks. Adeline had hair, brown almost to the point of being black with one streak of white, criss-crossing in two braids and under a light blue veil. Her emerald eyes twinkled watching the formation proceed, and her parted rosy lips soon broke into a smile. She gripped the arm of her throne with anticipation. 

The formation stopped and with the guards nudging, Rowan and Matt each got on one knee to show proper respect. Nobody urged Genevieve to do the same, probably because she was a princess, so she just stood there trying not to look awkward. “Your Majesties King Omar and Queen Adeline of Onirea,” a guard in the front presented, “these two gentlemen have come forth to return Princess Genevieve. I expect they are also here for the reward you have promised for her return.” As the front parted, both of the monarch’s faces dropped in shock.

The king squinted. “Haven’t I seen the two of you before?”

The thieves glanced between each other. “What do you mean, Your Majesty?” Rowan replied as politely as he could. 

“The two of you are wanted thieves, are you not? In association with the crime lord… “the Weasel”, was it?”

“With all due respect Your Majesty,” Matt chimed in, “we are trying to pay off debts to the Weasel in order to get out of their association… if that makes sense.”

Omar rubbed his chin. “Yes, but at this point, you both would still have to face punishment for these crimes, even after cutting ties with this Weasel.” 

Gen darted her eyes from the king to the thieves and cleared her throat. “Dad-- er, Your Majesty, these two… fine gentlemen are the ones who…” Well, rescued wasn’t quite the right word. “...Helped me escape from the castle in Kakor.”

“I am aware of that Genevieve, but--”

“Actually, Omar,” Queen Adeline interrupted, “I was wondering how they rescued our daughter. If you would allow them, I would like to hear their story. Perhaps it could explain a few things for us such as why it is these two gentlemen who have her now instead of a knight, and why Princess Genevieve has returned… in the state that she is in.” 

She grimaced slightly, looking Gen up and down. Genevieve did not have the dress she was kidnapped in, but her slip, knickers, and a cloak that was not hers. Her curly tangled hair might as well have been a squirrel’s nest. Her face was smudged with dirt, although some days that was more or less normal. She looked more like she was robbed rather than rescued. That’s probably why her parents looked so shocked.

“Okay, so uh… I was with Clara, in the tower, aaaaaaaaaand I got bored. So I decided to escape. I climbed out the window, almost got caught by guards, I turned into a mouse, then these two--”

“You-- I’m sorry? You turned into a mouse?” The queen asked, trying to stay calm.

“Oh, yeah, I accidentally drank Clara’s rat poison instead of one of her potions, but it turned me into a mouse. Then I changed back at night.”

The king pinched the bridge of his nose and the queen stared at her with wide eyes and terse lips. After a deep breath the queen said, “alright. Please continue.”

“The wizard for Kakor took me to his office, and that’s where these two lovely gentlemen found me. This was while I was still a mouse.”

Matt added, “If I may clarify, we didn’t realize that she was the princess even after she changed back. That’s why we weren’t able to take her back right away.”

“I would think she would be more recognizable than that,” King Omar mused.

“...It was dark.”

“Even so. Did you escort her to the village, then?”

“We told her to run in the forest where she would have a greater chance of slipping away.” Rowan stomped on Matt’s foot and shot him a dirty glare.

“You didn’t go with her?” The king questioned.

“We were the distraction,” Rowan offered, “so the armies would be focused on us instead of her.” 

Genevieve was certain that wasn’t how it went down, but she didn’t want to get them in too much trouble, so she piped up: “they gave me this cloak before they sent me off.”

“Genevieve, dear,” the queen butted in, “may I ask, where is your dress?”

“Oh. I left it at the castle. It wasn’t comfy and it wouldn’t fit through the window.” Both monarchs sighed. “What?”

“All this time that you were having your adventures, you were in your underwear?” the king huffed.

Rowan leaned over to Matt. “I always thought it was a secret pair of pants.”

Gen frowned. “I wouldn’t have gotten out with my dress. What else was I supposed to do?” The king opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, but the queen put a hand on his shoulder and he stopped. “I know, I know,” Gen continued, “I’m supposed to wait for a knight to come and rescue me. And sure, I may not have come home as fast as Clara did, but at least I’m home! Isn’t that the important part?”

“You’re supposed to come home in one piece and your dignity intact,” the king seethed, “but it looks like you left it back at the castle along with your dress-- in fact, I’m not sure if you had any dignity to begin with.”

“Omar!” The queen hissed. “How dare--”

Gen saw red. “Oh, and what are you gonna do, order your knights to put me in time-out?”

“Genevieve Elizabeth Quire, that is no way to speak to--”

The king shot back, “No daughter of mine is going to be an embarrassment to my kingdom!” A small collective gasp rose in the room.

Gen blinked. How long has he wanted to say that? Her hands balled into shaking fists and her eyes started to grow watery. “Oh, I’m the embarrassment?” she spat. “Try the king that’s so used to having his daughters kidnapped but never questions why it keeps happening! Do you just allow us to be kidnapped at this point?” There were nervous glances among the guards.

“I’d like to see you try fighting off a horde of orcs!”

“Maybe I will!”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Queen Adeline roared, getting to her feet. For a moment, the room was dead quiet before she rubbed her temples and spoke again. “I’m getting a headache from you two. Omar, I need to speak to you in private. Guards, escort these two gentlemen to the courtyard while I discuss matters with the king. And Genevieve, just… go to your room. Please.”

Gen’s eyes stung with tears. She fled to a door beside the thrones and into a hallway, then flung open a wooden door wrought with iron and a small pink-stained window, slamming it behind her.

[fanfic-scribbles]

O Christmas Tree

A/N: Because the idea of Chuck being reluctantly dragged into Christmas celebrations amuses me. Set somewhat nebulously into the apocalypse period of S4/5. I did not consult a timeline so we’re just…gonna pretend there’s a Christmas somewhere in there even if there isn’t. /hand wavium

Summary: Christmas can be an emotional season. In the case of you and Chuck, that ends up being a good thing.

Quick facts: Fluff – Romance – Christmas – Chuck/Reader

Warnings: Fluffy fluff romance with just a pinch of angst.

Words: 2432

     You shake out the last of the glitter and admire your handiwork. You have all sorts of colorful, messily drawn trees and snow and Santa hats, and a reindeer you blotched so spectacularly that it’s so much your favorite you’re considering keeping it. Handmade cards are a pain but also a truly lost art and your holiday greetings are always going to be a lot more interesting than whatever anyone else sends.

“Uhhhh…”

You glance back to see Chuck, perfectly disheveled as always. No matter how much or how little sleep he gets he always looks like he’s rolled out of bed right down the stairs before realizing he has legs and must figure out how to walk on them. He’s standing pretty steadily right now, seemingly forgetting to act like a shuffling zombie as he stares at his kitchen table in confusion.

“Good morning Chuck!” you say brightly and knock off some excess glitter from your current card onto the piece of paper meant to catch the shining fallout. Some of it falls onto the table, as with every card before it. “Sleep well?”

“What are you doing?”

“Making Christmas cards.” You take one of the misplaced sequins, add some extra glue, and hold it in place.

“Why are you doing that in my house?”

“I came over to clean anyways, so what’s a little mess beforehand?” You point at the coffeepot with one hand while the other sifts through your pile of markers. “Go get caffeinated, Prophet Crankypants.”

He snorts but it sounds like he’s following your instructions. Ah yes, there’s the telltale slurping. Sometimes you wonder if he was born in a barn, or if he just abandoned all pretenses at manners over the years.

“Seriously though; it had to be glitter?”

You glance up to see him leaning against the counter, visibly judging your art space from a sparkle-safe distance. You blow a raspberry at him and go back to work. He is so not getting the reindeer. “Keep it up and it’ll be glitter in your hair tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll sic my archangel on you.”

“Pretty sure ‘throwing glitter on God’s smartass mouthpiece’ isn’t in the Bible as a smite-able offense.”

“It could be,” he said and we both laughed at that.

I shook my head and carefully set out the last of my cards to dry and set. “You have a strange life, my friend.”

“You're telling me,” he huffed. “I’m still surprised you actually believe me.”

You shrug, trying not to stiffen up at the unpleasant remembrance of that balding piece of–… “Yeah well, angels don’t fuck around.”

“Oh.” Chuck puts the mug to his lips. “Right.”

You push away the memory of the night the angels had ‘warned’ you away from Chuck. How, despite the suits and sleaze, their very presence had almost made you collapse in terror. But, you reason with yourself as you start to pick up, you haven’t been smote yet, and they haven’t come back to otherwise put you in the dirt. That’s good enough for you.

Chuck has migrated over to a chair at the table to get out of your way. He morosely sips at his coffee and you pull out the cleaning supplies. “So,” you say and he jumps at the sound. Scared-y Chuck, you think and stifle a laugh. “Where are we going to put the tree?”

He looks suspiciously at you. “What tree?”

“The one I’m using to start an indoor forest.” Chuck is both one of the smartest men you���ve ever met and also so incredibly dense sometimes. You give him a look that, hopefully, gets that message across. “The Christmas tree, silly.”

He crinkles his nose in that way that is not cute, no sirree. And if you keep telling yourself that, maybe one day it will be true. “You’re doing that again?” he says. “Wait– why do I have to have a Christmas tree?”

“I do it every year. Also, you having a Christmas tree is my best idea ever. It’s basically an air freshener big enough to chase out the stale booze smell.” You shrug like it’s nothing but you’re actually feeling into this. Maybe Chuck just needs a little holiday cheer to perk up. “Also, I can’t have a decent-sized tree in my place so I never get to use all my ornaments. It’s a win-win.”

“Trees shed,” Chuck says sullenly.

“The day you pull out a vacuum is the day I…well, I don’t know. But I want video proof if it ever happens,” you say and scrub at a crusted-on you-don’t-even-want-to-know-what. Still, if that’s his only argument then you’re in pretty good shape. You finish sanitizing this half of the counter and turn to look at him. “I’m not gonna force you to celebrate, of course, but you seemed all right around my stuff last year and…I dunno, it just seems like a nice way to spruce the place up, y’know?”

He snorts and hides laughter into his cup. When you give him a look he pulls up to say, “‘Spruce.’”

“Oh.” You laugh a little. “That was totally unintentional.”

“Yeah, sure.” He puts his cup down and claps his hands together. “All right. I’ll uh…I’ll get dressed and we’ll go.”

“Go where?”

“To get the Christmas tree,” he says, like it’s obvious. He frowns and gives you a look that is so ‘oh honey’ that he doesn’t even have to say it. “If the tree’s going in my house then I’m going to help pick it out.”

You want to rag on him for being a smartass again. As you always do. But a smile grows on your face without your control, and when he smiles too you have no hope of containing it. He’s in, and for some reason you feel incredibly good about this season. “Okay. Okay! I’ll, um…I’ll just wait here then.”

   ~~

 For being so ‘blah humbug’ before, Chuck is surprisingly picky about his tree. Your own small tree is already loaded into the back of your truck and you’re standing here, helping him look over almost every branch of his current pick.

“Chuck, I’m telling you, I know a good Christmas tree when I see one and this? This is perfect,” you say and tug on a full, healthy branch. He’s getting this one if it’s the last thing you do, if only because that rude bitch that almost crashed into you (and had the nerve to honk!) is eyeing it up and down.

“Yeah…yeah, this is a good one,” Chuck says and you and the salesman sag equally with relief. You show your smug smile to the lady and when she flips you off you just grin. As you’re walking out Chuck nudges you and says, “Is it really the best tree ever or did you just not want that woman to win?”

“Both. Bitch can’t drive but she knows how to pick a tree,” you say and flash him a smile over your shoulder. “Definitely a win-win!”

Chuck laughs and you both hop in the car. You immediately get the heater going and you freeze (figuratively) when he leans closer to you. You wonder if he’s really that cold, or if he’s going to–

His door slams shut and when he leans back in his seat you relax. The relief is expected but the disappointment is…annoying. You take said annoyance out on the car as you shift into drive and pull out onto the road.

“Speaking of trees,” Chuck says. “The, uh…the tree-lighting ceremony is tonight. Do you want to go?”

You glance at him in surprise. You practically had to drag him out by his ankles last year to get him to go. “You sure you want to?”

He raises his eyebrows at you. “Last year you threatened to cut my arms off if I didn’t let go of the doorway.”

Oh yeah. ‘Practically’ was more ‘literally’, as he had desperately grabbed at anything not to have to go. “My point exactly. You couldn’t stand the thought of going last year. What gives now?”

He shrugs and looks out the window. “Well if I’m doing Christmas this year I might as well do it right, right?” He looks at you and smiles. The expression stirs something in you and you focus on the road. “Besides…the hot chocolate was okay, and it was funny when they knocked over that giant Santa.”

“Half the fun is watching the inevitable disaster,” you agree. “But…are you sure you wanna spend that much time with me?”

“Definitely,” he says, and you spend the rest of the drive trying not to read much into that.

   ~~

 It’s getting really hard not to read into things. Or, more accurately, inappropriately fantasize about things. You dressed warm but nice and Chuck– Chuck has showered and smells like cologne and it’s driving you a little crazy because he had clammed up when you asked about it and now all you can think of is that this is what a date with Chuck would be like. Complete with fumbling to pay for the hot chocolate and stonewalled awkward silence.

It’s a little less awkward now. You’re both sitting on a bench, with a couple respectable inches between you, and you’re playing a game of ‘how many city council members does it take to plug in some Christmas lights?’ The crew that set up the tree is even helping try to figure it out and the crowd is milling about and talking amongst themselves. This is a return to familiarity for you, and you begin to relax for the first time tonight.

“This is nice,” Chuck says. His sincere tone makes you feel like you’re fumbling again. Chuck has a way of pulling the rug out from under you, though you doubt he knows it.

“I like the tree too but it always looks better when they’re done fumbling around,” you say.

“No. I mean, this. Sitting here with you. Sometimes I wonder why you…”

You’re burning with curiosity but you don’t take the bait. But then he says your name in a way that completely grabs your attention and he looks at you like he’s just figuring something out. “Why…” He looks down but quickly forces himself to look back up at you. “Why are you always so good to me?”

Sipping your drink is a good way to hide the lump you have to swallow. “What kind of question is that?” you ask as normally, as calmly as you can. “You’re my best friend.”

“Is that really it?” His stare is more intense than you remember it ever being. Now is time to panic. He knows. He knows.

Shit shit shit. “Why? Why ask? You– you already know, don’t you?” you ask. This is…something. You feel sick, like this is leading up to the rejection of the century. This is why you never wanted to say anything. You want things to stay as they are; you want to keep your friend in whatever way you can.

When the angels had come to you with their ‘message’ Chuck had tried to push you out of his life, for your safety. Both of you had been terrified, saying and shouting things neither of you meant, but you had fought tooth and nail until he accepted you weren’t going anywhere. You had realized then that you didn’t want to lose him, no matter what happened, because this –sitting in a cold park, sipping watered-down hot cocoa, occasionally looking over and seeing Chuck laugh at a joke you made– this is all you’ve ever really wanted. Unambitious, most likely, probably even a little pathetic, but it’s enough for you.

“I want to hear you say it. So…why?” he repeats, not letting up on his stare. It’s almost like he can see right through you and you turn your face away as your mind races.

“Because…” Your throat feels thick and you look at him again. He’s waiting, and you swallow. “Because the day the angels told me to get lost was the most terrifying day of my life,” you say. Chuck opens his mouth and you put a hand on it. “Not because they threatened to turn me into paste but because they almost took you away from me.”

He pulls your hand down. “(Y/n)–”

“Shut up. You wanted to hear this? You’re going to hear this,” you say and wait. He’s quiet. And looking at you with enough sincerity to almost make your stomach turn inside out. “Why? Because. Because I like you so much that watching you slowly destroy yourself makes me want to throw up. Because I hate to see you hurting. Ever. Because…sometimes you give me a reason to get up when going through the motions isn’t enough anymore. Because I like being around you, I like being able to help you. Because you help me without even knowing it. Because if I could have kept this to myself forever I would have. Because even being just your friend is better than not having you at all.”

Chuck moves closer to you and puts his gloved hands to your cold cheeks. You’re confused momentarily until the meaning comes across, and you try to jerk back. He holds your face though and you say, “Chuck, you– you don’t have to–”

“Shut up,” he breathes and pulls you in and proceeds to kiss you senseless. Not that it’s hard– just feeling his hands cup your face has your hands flailing between pushing him away or figuring out where to settle. You eventually rest them on his sides and Chuck takes that as encouragement, by the way he slides closer to you. You give in, then, your mind whiting out heavenly warnings and your own fears and nightmare ‘but what if’s so that you can give in to the moment. It’s just you, and him, togeth–

A cheer breaks out and you and Chuck pull away simultaneously. The tree is lit and one of the councilwomen is looking quite proud of herself as the mayor finally takes the podium. You and Chuck share a smile as he begins to talk into a microphone that isn’t working.

“I changed my mind. I can make better hot cocoa than this,” Chuck says and dumps his cup in the trash. “You…wanna come over?”

“Is tinsel the most aggravating Christmas decoration in existence?” you say and hop up. As you walk off, arm in arm, you lean into him, heart fit to burst. “Merry Christmas, Chuck.”

He leans into you. “Merry Christmas, (y/n).”