#i was going to do my homework but i got distracted and spent like 45 minutes on this

[starrbitez]

Why Morty Smith is “like a dog” (pun unintended)

Okay so i saw a post (I’ll link it in comments!) that was talking about how Rick is more like a dog than Morty, and I definitely agree that Rick is similar to a dog too, I am going to discuss my personal opinions on Morty’s dog-like symbolism, parallels with snuffles/snowball, and my own ideas for the dog analogy. It begins below the cut :3

Firstly, there are some parallels between Morty and his former fluffy companion I think are important and very interesting !

One example, Morty is treated very similarly by Rick to the way Jerry treats Snowball. See; Rick pushing Morty down the stairs, Jerry rubbing snowball’s face in his pee. Both unnecessary punishments or just entirely unnecessary.

Morty is also threatened emptily a lot, in the way that an owner might threaten their dog when they do something bad, ie. “we’ll take you back to the shelter or replace you if you dont stop peeing on the rug,” and the replaceable nature that abusive pet owners exemplify towards their dogs is the exact same treatment Morty gets, with the you’re replaceable almost ‘I’ll take you back to the shelter’ threats Rick gives.

Morty is treated like a dog constantly, and while all Morty’s are on some level imo, Pmorty is the most. When Rick takes the voucher for a free replacement Morty — it’s like getting a discount on a rescue dog or picking up a stray when your dog dies.

Then, morty is talked down to like a dog, just like how Jerry talks to snowball.

Morty: whats wrong?

Jerry: your idiot dog! …. Don’t praise him Morty, he peed on the carpet! Bad dog, bad!

Rick: youre a perfect suit of impenetrable armor, Morty! because you’re as dumb as I am smart!

And then,

Morty: look rick, there’s a bunch of people strapped to that building!

Rick: Not people morty. Mortys.

At this point in the show (s1e10) Rick doesn’t even consider Mortys to be human, and he values Morty about the same amount that Jerry valued snowball — little to nothing, simply valued to feel superior over something.

I also think that in Rest and Ricklaxation, healthy morty and toxic morty are two opposite and extreme sides of the spectrum of dog-like behavior. While normal morty is loyal to a fault, he still his has own morals and enough personal confidence to argue with rick and engage in adventures. There’s a clear divide in his character in many episodes where he see his more violent tendencies, and in this episode you can see a split between his more “feral” side and his “domesticated” side. Healthy Morty is a sort of lone-wolf, he believes that health is being able to survive on your own, be strong and completely confident to an almost selfish and narcissistic point, and he desires to be a leader. Toxic Morty sees himself as weak, and he says that he just wants to die. He feels like the runt of the litter, left behind and clinging to the first person that offers him protection — rick. When combined, morty is somewhere in the middle, but the separate parts are opposite sides of dog-like behavior.

OKAY now im going to talk abt my SNOWBALL PARALLELS a bit more….

When snowball realizes how he is being treated, on some level gaining sentience, he starts to develop his intelligence, get stronger, more independent, rebel against the people who treated him like shit and took advantage of him. Snowball realizes how he is being treated and he does everything he can to prove he is intelligent, but out of his care and loyalty to morty, he leaves because he wants morty to live and be happy !!! Sound familiar?

Yes it is the exact same track as Morty’s character development.In season 3 episode 7 after the dinner with evil morty, morty realizes he is being manipulated, that he is replaceable, that he is just someones property. He gains ‘sentience’ or the conciousness of his free will ? Kinda. And from here on we see Morty’s attitude change significantly, asserting himself over rick often in season 4. Morty joins in on the intro, he leaves rick to die, he focuses on himself, he becomes more violent and more in control of his own decisions. In season 4 we see him become independent from ricks control, but he is still loyal and wants rick to be happy, the same loyalty snowball had to the one person who treated him right.

Snowball had an attachment to morty because morty was the only one to treat him well.

Morty has an attachment to rick because rick is the only one who gives him praise, albeit irregularly. He gets attention from rick. Morty is continuously in vulnerable or weaker positions to those around him, and i believe it is symbolism !! I think its even in subtle ways like when rick will pat morty on the head, call him ‘buddy’, rick even outright compares morty to a dog with his unwavering loyalty. Which — just like a dog — he was bred for.

I think the acknowledgement of morty being similar to a dog in his loyalty, his obedience, but also in his parallels to snowball align well with the citadel plot of Mortys being bred for forgiveness. Only when the Mortys. Become aware of their treatment and how they could be better, they start to change into a more violent/feral/intelligent/confident form, depending on the Morty. Intelligence seen in evil morty and c-137, feral behavior in the mutated morty’s on the citadel who are aware of their position And the corruption around them.

I think we are in track for morty to become more and more of an independent kid, following in the footsteps of snowball and developing his intelligence, confidence, ad strength until he will possibly leave or find independence from his codependency on rick, just like snowball was able to escape his codependency on humanity in general. (Interesting to think abt how Beth and Jerry have a codependent marriage and rick and morty have a codependent partnership… v interesting)

But yes . These are my thoughts on morty smith c-137 and the general theme of Mortys being a dog. For more info read my fic, like a dog. Jkjkjk B)

Pls pls tell me ur opinions on this !!

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Teapots, Secret Passageways and Forever - George Weasley

Title: Teapots, Secret Passageways and Forever Pairing: George x Fem!Slytherin!Reader Warnings: NSFW!!! Dirty talk, fingering, oral (male receiving), throat fucking, orgasm denial, light spanking, degredation. Summary: turns out falling in love with your enemy is more complicated that George and Y/N thought. A/N:  here it is, the sequel to good girl!! This actually ended up turning out differently than I thought I would and im not sure how I feel about that but I’m gonna upload it anyway otherwise it will quite literally never end up on here haha. But anyway, feedback is always appreciated/welcome!! Read part 1 here!

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George lets out a sigh, causing Y/N to glare up at him. He had promised to be good when Y/N agreed to let him tag along with her to the library, but they’ve only been there for 20 minutes and this is already the 5th time he’s let out a deep sigh. George grins at her, and even though she wants to be mad, Y/N finds him too adorable to even act like she’s mad.

Y/N rests her chin on her hand, just letting herself watch George for a moment. It’s hard for her to believe that just a few months ago she hated his guts, because now just the sight of George makes her feel dizzy with love. “What do you want, George?”

“Your attention,” George responds as if the answer is obvious. “When you said I could come with you I figured you’d end up sucking my cock or something. Not actually do homework.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the shiver that runs down her spine. “How can one person be that horny? We literally just had sex this morning.”

George bites his lip, memories of their early morning meeting taking over his mind. Y/N is still apprehensive about spending the night in his dorm, so Saturday mornings have become their opportunity to be together before George has Quidditch practice. There isn’t a deserted corridor or secret passageway they haven’t done it in, and they spent quite a few hours together this morning in the same secret passageway they hooked up in for the first time.

“Have you looked in a mirror lately, darling? You’re absolutely gorgeous and not to mention sexy,” George compliments, reaching out to cup Y/N’s cheek. “I just can’t control myself around you. Every time I’m around you I have the overwhelming urge to just touch you and pull you close.”

Y/N can feel her cheeks flushing, and she tilts her chin forward to silently ask George for a kiss. He kisses her briefly, but it doesn’t fail to make Y/N feel lightheaded. “That’s very sweet of you to say, Georgie. And while I find you extremely, extremely sexy, I do actually have to do my homework. Because of your inability to keep your hands to yourself I’m falling behind in Potions and Herbology.”

“Oh come on Snivellous loves you, he’d probably do your assignment for you if you asked. And Sprout is a total pushover. All you have to do is give her some sob story and you’ll get an extension easily.” George’s lower lip juts out, giving Y/N his best pout. “Please? Just pay attention to me a little bit.”

“Or, you can sit here with me quietly while I do my homework, and when I’m all done you can take me to the room of requirement and have your way with me,” Y/N suggests, picking her quill back up.

“Alright, you’ve got yourself a deal.” George sits back in his chair, just watching Y/N work. She’s worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she works on a Potions essay and George finds it incredibly cute. He finds it hard to believe that he once wanted nothing to do with Y/N. He’s absolutely captivated by everything she does, and he could spend hours just sitting there watching her do nothing.

“First Quidditch game of the year next week,” George comments idly. He knows he shouldn’t say anything, but he’s been sitting there quietly for the past 45 minutes and he can’t resist his urge to say something. It’s a Saturday evening and they’re the only two in the library, so he doesn’t even have anyone else around to watch and distract himself.

Y/N hums, not looking up from her essay. Honestly she’s surprised George lasted 45 minutes without saying anything, so she’s willing to humor him a bit while she works. “Is that so?”

“Mhm. Angelina’s first game as captain. She’s a nervous wreck. But she’s been doing really good. It’s like Wood is still there.” George pauses, watching as Y/N scribbles a few things down. “You gonna be there?”

“Of course.” She looks up to wink at George. “Slytherin’s playing. I never miss a Slytherin game.”

George rolls his eyes playfully. “But you’re not just going to be there for Slytherin, right? You’re gonna be there to watch a super-hot Ginger whiz around the field hitting bludgers at everyone.”

Y/N shrugs. “I dunno. If you ask me Fred really isn’t that good of a Quidditch player.” When George pouts at her Y/N laughs and leans forward to kiss him. “I’m only joking, love. ‘Course I’ll be there cheering you on. Maybe not as loud as I’ll be cheering for Slytherin but cheering nonetheless.”

“Guess that’ll have to do,” George drawls, fake disappointment in his tone. George bites his lip, watching Y/N flip through her Potions book before she scribbles something down on her essay. “Can I ask you something?” When Y/N nods he continues. “Will you wear one of my extra Quidditch jumpers to the game?”

Y/N looks up at George then, putting her quill down. “And betray my house? George Weasley how dare you ask that of me!” she responds, feigning shock. “How about I wear your Gryffindor hat or scarf? That way you can spot me in the crowd of Slytherins and I’ll be warm.”

George frowns. “But I want you to wear my jumper. You can wear your own hat and scarf and my jumper will keep you warm.”

“It’s just that. I always wear one of Adrian’s quidditch jumpers. And Daphne wears one of Marcus’. It’s like, our thing. Has been since second year when they made the team,” Y/N explains. She reaches out to grab George’s hand, frowning when he pulls it away. “Georgie. Don’t be like this.”

George huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. He knows that Adrian and Y/N are best friends, and even though she’d reassured him that her and Adrian never had romantic feelings for one and other, George can’t help but feel jealous when it comes to him. Obviously Y/N is his girlfriend and he knows that she loves him, but the mere mention of Adrian never fails to drive him up the wall.

“Just thought you’d want to wear you boyfriend’s Quidditch jumper,” he mumbles, settling back into his chair.

“It’s just a jumper, George. I don’t see what the big deal is.” When George doesn’t say anything Y/N sighs and gets up, walking over to George. She straddles his waist and places her hands on his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to George’s mouth. She keeps pecking his lips until George melts and kisses her back eagerly, his hands settling on her hips. “If it really means that much to you, I’ll wear it.”

“Promise?” George asks, unable to keep from smiling.

“Promise. But I’m wearing my Slytherin hat and scarf. Can’t let people think I’ve gone completely soft for you.” Y/N looks back at her homework, before looking at George again. “Ah screw it. I’ll just finish that tomorrow. Take me to the room of requirement?”

George’s eyes light up and he grips Y/N’s thighs as he stands up. “No need to ask me twice.”

-

“You can’t even have one meal apart from him without making love eyes at each other across the hall. It’s disgusting,” Daphne teases, pretending to gag.

Y/N flips her off, not bothering to break eye contact with George. Ever since they started dating Y/N and George have eaten every meal together, taking turns at which house table they sit at. But since it’s the night before the first Quidditch match George had opted to sit at the Gryffindor table without Y/N, so that Angelina could go over a few last-minute things with the team. He’s supposed to be listening to whatever Angelina is saying, but with how focused he is on her, Y/N knows whatever she’s saying is going in one ear and out the other. Adrian and Marcus join them then, and Y/N finally breaks eye contact with George, since Adrian sits right in their line of sight.

“You guys ready for tomorrow?” Daphne asks as they start to pile food on their plates. Snape had given the whole Slytherin Quidditch team permission to skip their afternoon lessons so they could get one last practice in on the field before tomorrow’s game. And both boys look exhausted, but also excited.

Marcus nods happily, “Oh yeah, Gryffindor is going down, no doubt about it.” He turns to grin at Y/N. “No offense to you or your boy toy, of course.”

Y/N flips Marcus off. “He’s not my boy toy, he’s my boyfriend, there’s a difference, moron. And there’s no need to be jealous, Marcus. I know it’s hard to watch me and George be together and I’m sure someday Daph will want to kiss you when she’s sober.”

Adrian laughs, prompting Marcus to hit him in the back of the head. “Don’t get feisty with me because Y/N is right. Oh, that reminds me.” Adrian reaches into his bag and pulls out one of his Quidditch jumpers. “Here, for tomorrow. I probably won’t see you before the game.”

“Oh, um. I don’t need it.” All three of her friends give Y/N a look and she puts down her fork. “I’m gonna wear George’s jumper tomorrow.”

Daphne frowns. “But you always wear Adrian’s. And I wear Marcus’. It’s a tradition, Y/N.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “It’s just a sweater, Daph. You’re acting like I’m stabbing him in the back or something.”

Adrian huffs and puts the sweater back in his bag. “If it’s just a damn sweater then why are you wearing Weasley’s? Didn’t know you stopped making decisions for yourself when he started shagging you.”

Y/N whips her roll at Adrian’s head. “You’re lucky there’s a table in between us Adrian or I’d break your fucking arm. Why are you being such a dick? George is my boyfriend and he asked me to wear his jumper. It doesn’t mean anything to me, but it does to him, and I love him so I’m going to wear it.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Adrian apologizes. “It just annoys me that things are changing. It used to be just us four. Now it’s always us four and George.”

Y/N sighs. As much as she hates to admit it, Adrian is right. They’ve operated as a foursome ever since the first train ride to Hogwarts, when they were all just scared 11-year olds. Throwing George into the mix has changed their dynamic and she’s sure it’s been hard on all of them to adjust. “I’m sorry. It’s not like I planned on getting a boyfriend, it just kinda happened. I’ll wear your jumper to every other Slytherin game, okay?”

“Guess it’ll do,” Adrian settles, taking a bite out of the roll Y/N threw.

-

“Woo! Let’s go George! That’s my boy!” Y/N shouts, causing the Slytherins around her to all glare. Harry has just caught the snitch meaning of course, Gryffindor has won. Y/N turns to Daphne who’s pouting next to her and shapes her fingers in the form of an L. “Sorry, Slyther-losers. Good luck winning the Quidditch cup now!”

Daphne rolls her eyes and scoffs. “You’re a Slytherin too, you realize that, right?”

“Not today!” Y/N pulls her Slytherin knit cap off her head and shoves it into her jacket pocket as she unzips it to show off the red and gold jumper she’s wearing. “I’m a Gryffindor today, baby! Now come on let’s go, you can go make sure Marcus doesn’t drown himself in the showers and I can give George the congratulatory blow job I promised.”

“Ew! Way too much information, Y/N,” Daphne grimaces.

Y/N laughs as they start to head down to the pitch, unable to keep the smile off of her face. George looks hot just sitting there doing nothing, so seeing him whiz around the field hitting bludgers has left Y/N feeling dizzy with a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. He was gripping his bat so hard his knuckles were turning white, and the veins on his hand were visible from her seat in the stands. He looked so powerful up there on his broom, and it’s a sight Y/N never wants to forget.

When Y/N and Daphne finally reach the ground she’s about to breakaway to sneak into the Gryffindor changing room, when Daphne grabs her arm. “What?”

“Look!” Daphne insists, directing Y/N’s attention towards the outskirts of the pitch.

Y/N swallows the lump that has appeared in the back of her throat. Angelina, Katie and Alicia are holding onto Fred, who’s desperately fighting against them, a dark look on his face. George has an identical look on his face, and he’s trying to throw Harry off of him. Draco is standing in front of them, and while Y/N can’t hear what he’s saying, she knows it’s nothing nice. “That can’t be good.” Her and Daphne rush over, just as Marcus and Adrian start to approach.

“Get back up to the castle,” Marcus directs not even bothering to look at them.

Daphne hesitates, but Y/N grabs Adrian’s arm. “What are you guys doing?”

“We’re gonna back up Malfoy, obviously. You heard Marcus, get out of here.” Adrian tries to shake Y/N off, but she tightens her grip on him. “I’m serious, Y/N. Go back to the castle. Whatever is about to happen is not going to be pretty.”

Y/N looks over at George. Harry now looks just as angry and is struggling to hold onto George’s Quidditch robes. They’re close enough now that Y/N can hear the tone of Draco’s voice, and it’s dripping with cockiness. George’s fists are clenched at his sides, like he’s preparing to knock Draco’s lights out. She’s never seen George like this, and while it turns her on to no end, it also scares the shit out of her. She lets go of Adrian’s arm and starts heading towards George to try and stop whatever this is that’s about to go down.

It’s Adrian’s turn to stop Y/N, and he wraps his arms around Y/N’s waist. “Are you out of your fucking mind? You’re about to put yourself in the middle of a blood bath.”

“Let me go, Adrian! As much as I would love to watch George beat the shit out of Draco this is not the time or the place.” She tries to break free from Adrian’s grip just as George finally looks away from Draco. Their eyes meet for a brief moment, but Y/N doesn’t miss the pure rage in them. George’s eyes drop to where Adrian is gripping her and before anyone can do anything George is lunging at Draco, punching him straight in the jaw.

“What did I tell you?” Adrian growls as he starts to pull Y/N back towards the castle.

Y/N lets Adrian drag her away as watches in horror at the scene unfolding in front of her. Harry has joined in the fight as well, and he and George are on the ground on top of Draco. Fists are flying everywhere and every time one connects with a body Y/N’s stomach lurches. After what seems like an eternity Madam Hooch and several professors are descending on the scene and their view is completely cut off.

-

Y/N takes the stairs up to Gryffindor tower two at a time, desperately in need of seeing George. It’s been a few hours since the debacle that went down on the Quidditch pitch and Draco has just finished bragging about the event after getting back from the Hospital Wing. What Y/N had wanted to do was grab Draco and hang him in the dungeons from his ankle, but instead she stormed out of the common room in search of George. His punishment is severe, and all she wants to do his hug him close.

“Oh thank god,” Y/N greets Ginny as she reaches the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. She really hadn’t thought about how she was going to get in until she was already halfway up the staircase. Y/N had planned on just standing around until a Gryffindor showed up, so she’s truly thankful that Ginny is already there.

Ginny smiles at Y/N and pushes the Fat Lady Portrait open. “When George got back I figured it would only be a matter of time before you came to find him. He’s up in his dorm”

When Y/N steps into the common room it’s dead quiet. Gryffindor’s parties are notorious around school, and Y/N knows that if the match had ended differently there would be a rager going on right now. Fred is starting daggers at Y/N, and she can feel her face heating up as she heads up towards George’s dorm. Fred is still not the biggest fan of her relationship with George, but he’s usually less obvious about his feelings towards Y/N.

Y/N takes a deep breath as she reaches the seventh-year dorm and she knocks quietly. “George? Georgie? It’s me. Can I come in? ”When George doesn’t say anything, she frowns and pushes the door open anyway. “Georgie,” she coos as she enters, shutting the door behind her tightly. George is sitting on the edge of his bed shirtless, facing away from her. His shoulders are tense, and it makes Y/N’s chest ache.  

“How did you get in here?” he asks firmly, not bothering to look at her.

Y/N bites her lip and starts to tentatively walk towards him. “Ginny let me in, she was waiting for me, actually.” She stops when she’s a few steps away from him. “Are you okay?” she asks softly.

George huffs. “What do you think?” His tone is sharp, and Y/N can feel tears welling up in her eyes. She figured he would be upset, but she has no idea why he’s upset with her.

“I can’t believe that toad banned you guys from Quidditch. Actually I can believe it, she’s fucking awful.” When George doesn’t say anything Y/N starts to play with her fingers. “Will you talk to me George, please?”

“I don’t have anything to say to you, Y/N. Just go hug Adrian or whatever it is you do when I’m not around.”

Y/N frowns and goes to kneel behind George on the bed. She reaches out slowly and places her hand on his shoulder. “Georgie what are you talking about? You’re the only one I wanna be with. Every second of every day. You know that.”

“Do I?” George asks as he stands up and turns to face her. “Because you two looked pretty cozy today down on the pitch.”

Y/N lets her eyes drag over George’s face. His eyes are dark and narrow, reminiscent of the way he was looking at Draco earlier. His lip is busted open and he’s got a pretty daunting black eye, but he still looks like George. “We weren’t hugging down there, George. Is that what you thought that was?”

“That’s what it looked like, Y/N. His arms around your waist like that. Only I’m allowed to touch you like that,” George growls, his fists clenching. “If you hadn’t been standing in front of him I would have broken his jaw, not Malfoy’s.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot, George,” Y/N spits, suddenly feeling angry. Although she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t turned on a little as well. Seeing George so angry and possessive has ignited a pit of arousal in her stomach. “He wasn’t hugging me. He was keeping me from throwing myself at you to keep you from hitting Draco. You know if it wasn’t for Adrian you could have hurt me, George.”

“I’ll be sure to go thank him then,” George sneers. “God, Y/N how can you be so daft. He’s clearly in love with you. I’m sure he was just looking for some excuse to touch you.”

“You can’t be serious George. We’ve talked about this. Adrian and I have never and will never have feelings for each other.” Y/N gets off the bed and comes around so she’s standing in front of George. “And you know what even if Adrian does have feelings for me I don’t return them. I’m in love with you, you big fat fucking moron. So quit it with this jealousy crap, George.”

George suddenly grabs Y/N’s hips and pulls her into his chest harshly before leaning down and kissing her hard. “I’m not jealous,” he insists as he pushes her back onto his bed. “But you’re mine, Y/N. And I’m gonna make sure every person in this school knows that. Especially that prick Adrian.”

“God, George. You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.” Y/N sits up and wraps her hand around George’s necking, pulling him in to a desperate kiss. She lays back against the bed as George forces his tongue into her mouth, pulling him on top of her.

George starts to bite and suck on Y/N’s neck, feeling the need to mark her up as much as possible. He wants there to be no doubt in anyone’s mind who Y/N belongs to when he’s done with her. He nibbles along the underside of her jaw, leaving small purple bruises in his wake. “You look so fucking hot in my jumper, Y/N. Such a shame I’m gonna have to take it off.”

George’s hands have started to run up under the jumper, his cold hands shocking her warm skin. “Then don’t,” she gasps as George bites the crook of her neck harshly. “Leave it on while you fuck me, please. It smells like you, Georgie.” Y/N moans and tangles her hands in his hair as George starts to cup her bare breasts, his calloused thumbs rubbing harshly at her nipples.

“That desperate for me already, darling? So needy for me that you wanna be able to smell me while I ruin your pretty pussy with my cock?” George pinches Y/N’s nipples hard, smirking as her back arches up off of the bed.

“Please, George,” Y/N moans, tugging on his hair. “Just wanna be your good girl.”

Y/N’s words send a shiver down George’s spine and he kisses her briefly. “You sure you wanna be my good girl? ‘Cause the way you’ve been talking makes it seem like you wanna be a bad girl.”

“Yes, George. Always wanna be your good girl, wanna be so good for you.”

George pulls away from Y/N completely and sits up, starting to fumble with the button of his trousers. “If you wanna be my good girl so bad, then you’re gonna use that pretty little mouth to show me just how good you can be.”

Y/N sits up and bats George’s hands away, undoing his trousers and shoving them down to his thighs along with his boxers. She practically drools as his hard cock pops out, and Y/N immediately wraps one of her hands around it and starts to stroke him lightly, while her other hand pulls George down into a searing kiss.

George grabs Y/N’s face in his hands as he lays back onto the bed to keep their lips connected as she settles in between his thighs. He groans as Y/N’s thumb starts to swipe over the tip of his cock and he pulls away from her mouth, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as he does. He watches it snap back into place, a little redder and plumper before and he starts to shove her head downwards. “Go on then, Y/N. Wrap those pretty lips around me so I can fuck your throat.”

Y/N immediately settles on her knees between George’s thighs, gripping the base of his cock tightly as she takes him into her mouth. She loves it when George is rough with her and tells her what to do. Seeing him jealous and angry turns her on to no end, and she can already feel her wetness coating her thighs. Y/N takes him down as far as she can, moaning when he gathers her hair in a ponytail and gives it a sharp tug. His hips jut up, shoving his cock farther down into her throat, and Y/N braces one of her hands on George’s hip while the other fists his bed sheets.

“Oh fucking hell,” George moans as Y/N looks up at him from under her eyelashes. “Look so fucking pretty like that, darling, with your mouth wrapped around my cock. You love sucking my cock, don’t you Y/N?” She hums around him, and George’s hips surge upwards, burying the rest of his cock between her lips. Y/N gags as he hits the back of her throat and George uses his grip on her hair to keep her there for a moment before he pulls her off slightly.

Y/N lets her tongue run up against the underside of George’s cock as he starts to thrust into her mouth and as his hand guides her head. George shoves the tip of his cock into the back of her throat with each thrust, and Y/N can feel tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes with each gag. She makes sure to pay attention to the tip of his cock every time he pulls her back, letting her tongue flick at it and collect the precum that’s started to bubble up at the top.

George picks up the speed of his hips, groaning as drool starts to dribble down Y/N’s chin. “Always suck me so well, Y/N. Such a good girl for me.” George let’s his cock hit the back of Y/N’s throat one more time, before he pulls her off completely. He wipes some of the drool off of her chin with his thumb and cleans it off on his pant leg. “Thank you, baby for getting my cock nice and wet, perfect for me to fuck you with. Go on then, get on your hands and knees.”

Y/N gets into position as George gets off of the bed to take his bottoms fully off. She feels George push the bottom of his jumper up, so it bunches around her hips and she moans as his large hands grab her ass. The bed shifts as he settles in behind her, his hands tugging at the fabric of her leggings.

“George!” she gasps as his hands tear a whole in her bottoms, suddenly exposing her bare core to the cold air of the room.

“No panties?” George asks as he shoves two fingers into her wet heat. Y/N moans as her walls clench around his digits and George starts to slowly fuck her with them. “Such a dirty fucking whore you are, Y/N. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? For me to use you like a little fuck toy, like you’re just a warm wet hole for me to bury my cock in. Isn’t that right?”

“Please,” Y/N begs as George’s fingers curl and finally brush up against her g-spot. George has never been this lewd with her, and she can still hear the anger in his voice. “Please, Georgie,” she whines, pushing back against his hand.

George smacks Y/N’s ass hard with his free hand, revealing in the moan that leaves her lips. “Answer me, Y/N. If you wanna cum tonight you’ll be a good girl and use your words. You’re just a warm wet hole for me to fuck and ruin, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, George, yes,” Y/N pants as his thumb starts to rub her clit.

George bites his lip as Y/N’s thighs and arms start to shake, and he smacks her ass again. “And you love being my dirty little fuck toy, don’t you?”

Y/N moans as George curls his fingers again, nodding wildly. “Love it so much Georgie, please. Wanna be your good girl, wanna make you feel good.”

In one fluid motion, George removes his fingers from Y/N’s core, grabs her hips and slams his cock into her, his hips moving until he’s buried completely inside of her. “Always so fucking tight for me darling,” George groans as he starts to move his hips. He sets a relentless pace, fucking into Y/N hard and fast. “I want to hear every little noise that comes out of you as I fuck you, understand? Want this whole fucking school to know just how good I make you feel.”

“So fucking big George, holy fuck,” Y/N moans. “Always fuck me so good, Georgie. No one can ever make me feel as good as you do, love your cock so much.” Unable to hold herself up from the pleasure coursing through her veins, Y/N falls forward onto her forearms, arching her back for George. The new positions allows him to slip even deeper inside of her, and she clenches her walls around George as she whines. “Right there, oh fuck. Harder George please. I need you,” she begs.

George tightens his grip on Y/N’s hips and slams into her harder. Normally George prefers to take things slow, but he still has the image of Adrian’s arms around Y/N’s waist and he wants to fuck her so hard that he forgets it completely. “Such a dirty fucking whore, Y/N. Begging for me to ruin you.”

“George,” Y/N groans as his thumb starts rubbing harsh circles on her clit. The tip of his cock rubs her g-spot with every thrust and her hips start to push back against him as her orgasm starts to build. Her body feels like it’s on fire and she can’t help the noises that come out of her mouth with each of George’s thrusts. “Please, George. Been such a good girl. Can I? Can I come George, please?”

George grunts as Y/N clenches around him even tighter, trying to keep his own orgasm at bay. “I don’t know if you deserve it, darling. Fuck toys don’t get to cum, do they? And that’s all you are, isn’t it? Just a little fuck to for me to use for my pleasure?”

“Please, please, please,” Y/N babbles as tears start to stream down her cheeks. She’s teetering on the edge of her climax and all she needs is for George to allow her to feel it. Pleasure is moving like an electric shock through her body and she desperately wants to let go. “Georgie, please,” she begs, the desperation clear in her voice. “I’m all yours, only yours please. Only want you, George. Please, please, let me cum.”

“Fuck that’s right, Y/N. You’re mine,” George growls. “Forever. Understand that? No one’s ever going to touch you or kiss you or fuck you ever again. Just me, only me. Go on then, baby. Be a good girl and cum all over my cock.”

Y/N cries out George’s name as she cums, her whole body shaking as pleasure courses through her. She collapses against the bed as her chest heaves with heavy pants, her body feeling like it’s floating. George’s hips have started to stutter as his own orgasm approaches, and Y/N clenches around him to help bring him to his climax. “Fill me up George, please. Claim me, make me yours forever.”

“Fucking hell, baby.” George collapses against Y/N’s back as he cums, his orgasm rocketing through his body. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum this hard before, and his hips slowly roll as he twitches inside of Y/N. Once he’s finished releasing inside of her George slowly pulls out and collapses on the bed next to Y/N. Silent tears are still rolling down her cheeks and George immediately pulls her into his chest. “I went too far didn’t I? Fuck I’m so sorry Y/N.”

Y/N sniffles as George starts to stroke her hair and press soft kisses all over her face. “They’re good tears Georgie I promise. It was incredible, honestly, love.”

George wipes away a few of the tears before he pulls Y/N in for a passionate kiss. Their lips move together slowly, and George starts to gently rub her back. “I would never be able to forgive myself if I hurt you. I love you, Y/N, so much.”

“I love you too, Georgie. Forever, yeah?”

George pulls Y/N closer to his body and kisses the top of her forehead, praying that the anger he still feels in his chest goes away. “Forever.”

-

Despite the fact that George had promised her forever that night, Y/N can’t help but feel that they’re starting to drift apart. With their lifetime Quidditch ban in full effect, George and Fred have started to put even more time into their Weasley products and Y/N feels like she barely sees George anymore. He still walks her to class holding her hand tightly and he’s always sure to remind her that he loves her, but they no longer eat meals together and Y/N can’t remember the last time George begged her to skive off her homework to fool around in the room of requirement. But she’s happy that he’s found something to put his extra time into, so she doesn’t think too much is wrong until George misses their next Saturday morning meeting.

“What’s wrong?” Adrian asks as Y/N slumps over to the Slytherin table. Most Saturdays Y/N’s friends don’t see her until lunch time, so they’re all surprised as she falls into her seat next to Adrian.

Y/N sighs and starts to put random food onto her plate, not really feeling like eating. “George never showed this morning. We were supposed to meet in the room of requirement and I just sat there for thirty minutes feeling like an idiot.”  

“You mean your prince charming stood you up? Guess things aren’t as happy in the kingdom as they seem,” Marcus teases. Daphne smacks him upside the head, prompting him to frown. “I was just trying to make her smile Daph no need to try and take my head off.”

“You’re an idiot, Marcus,” Daphne scolds before turning her attention back to Y/N. “I thought something was up with you guys, but I didn’t want to say anything. I feel like I’ve barely seen you two together this past week. George is usually always hovering around you, I mean he practically worships the ground you walk on. You guys get into a fight or something?”

Y/N shrugs, picking at her muffin. “He was pretty pissed after what happened last weekend at the Quidditch match. When Adrian was trying to hold me back from going over there he thought we were hugging or something. I don’t know, he was really angry though. But I thought we uh, worked it out if you get what I mean. But clearly not.”

“What a git. He managed to score the hottest girl in school and yet he still managed to fuck it up,” Adrian murmurs, putting his arm around Y/N’s middle. “You deserve better than him, Y/N.”

Y/N rests her head against Adrian’s shoulder and sighs. “He’s all I’ve ever wanted. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

“Don’t look now,” Daphne whispers, leaning over the table. “He just walked in with Fred, act natural.”

Y/N ruffles Adrian’s hair as she sits up, trying to pretend that she can’t feel George’s eyes starting at the back of her head.

-

George slams his quill down on the table, running his hand through his hair. “Fucking bullshit. No matter how many times I calculate it the numbers just don’t match up.”

“Will you chill out? It’s not that big of a deal we can work on that shit later,” Fred urges, watching George carefully. “What’s got your panties in a twist lately? I’ve never seen you this worked up.”

It’s Saturday afternoon, and Fred and George are tucked away in a corner of the common room, working on stuff for their joke shop. George has been trying to work on an input output expense sheet, but all of the numbers keep blurring together and he can’t seem to figure out how to make them balance. It probably has something to do with the fact that things between him and Y/N aren’t quite right, but he doesn’t want to think about that.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” George says flatly, looking back over the sheet in front of him.

Fred sighs and leans back in his seat. “You’re a shit liar, you know that? And I do have eyes, you know. Something’s going on with you and Y/N and you’re clearly upset about it. And I’m not going to stop asking about it until you tell me so just spill it so we can get back to work.”

“I’ve just been so angry with her lately, like constantly. Every time I’m around her it just flares up in my chest and I have this urge to just, I dunno. Yell at her.” George pauses. “I mean did you see the way he was touching her today? I wanted to storm over there and rip him away.”

Fred knits his eyebrows together. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Adrian,” George clarifies, his voice dark. “He’s always touching her, and Y/N just lets him. Even though she knows how I feel about him. Did you know I had to beg her to wear my Quidditch jumper to the game last week? And do you know why? Because she always wears Adrian’s,” he mocks. “I’m her bloody boyfriend and I had to beg her not to wear another guys jumper, it’s ridiculous.”

Fred reaches out and puts a comforting hand on George’s shoulder. “You’re my brother and I care about you, please try and remember that as I say the next thing. You’re a fucking idiot, George. I know I’m not Y/N’s biggest fan, but it’s clear that she cares about you. The way that she looks at you George, even when you’re not paying attention it’s like you’re the only thing in the world she cares about. I don’t think she means any harm when she’s like that with Adrian and deep down you know that too. I mean they’ve always been like that. Remember when you guys got detention before you were together? He showed up to walk her back to the common room and he gave her a piggyback ride. It’s not like they’ve just started being close. I don’t think I ever saw her away from Adrian or any of her friends until you guys started dating. Whatever you’re feeling is all in your head.”

“It doesn’t feel all in my head. The way he looks at her, it’s not the way someone looks at a person who’s just a friend,” George insists.

Fred rolls his eyes. “Okay so say Adrian does have feeling for Y/N. He’s clearly very deep in the friend zone. We all heard you guys last weekend, screaming about how she’s yours forever or whatever. Nearly made me throw up in my mouth, mate.”

George punches Fred’s shoulder lightly. “Fuck off. Y/N said the same thing but-“

“See! There you go,” Fred interjects, cutting George off. “Y/N said it herself. She’s in love with you, not Adrian. So, stop being an idiot and go apologize to her before she realizes what a dolt you are and ends it for good.”

George does leave the common room then, fully intending to go and see Y/N. He still feels angry deep in his chest, but his need to be close to her overwhelms all of it. That is until he finds Y/N in the library, her head titled back in a laugh at something Adrian has said. The anger in George’s chest flares as she pushes him playfully, a wide smile on her face that’s usually reserved for George.

-

Y/N can tell something has gone wrong, when there’s no Weasley’s in attendance at breakfast on Monday morning. They had all been a dinner the night before, and one Weasley not being around is perfectly normal. Even two being absent is normal if it’s Fred and George. But all four of them is unheard of, especially when Harry never shows up for breakfast either. She tries to keep herself calm, thinking that maybe they’re just doing something for the DA or planning some revenge on Umbridge. But when lunch comes around and Y/N has yet to see George or Fred in class and there hasn’t been a single streak of red hair floating around the halls, Y/N makes a beeline for the Gryffindor table where Hermione is sitting alone.

“Hey, what’s going on? Where’s George and everyone else. I haven’t seen them since dinner last night,” Y/N asks as she takes a seat next to Hermione. When Hermione finally looks at Y/N there’s a worried expression on her features and it makes Y/N’s stomach drop.

“George didn’t owl you?” When Y/N shakes her head, Hermione leans forward to whisper in her ear. “I can’t say too much, Dumbledore’s orders. But something happened and Mr. Weasley was badly injured, he’s in St. Mungo’s. George and the rest of the Weasley’s along with Harry took a portkey home last night, Dumbledore gave them all permission to start winter break a few days early.”

Y/N frowns, a mixture of emotions flowing through her body. On one hand she’s worried about George’s dad and how he’s coping with everything. And on the other she’s hurt that George didn’t feel comfortable enough to reach out to her and tell her what’s going on. Y/N had hoped they could make things right before being a part for two weeks, but it seems that the wedge between them is only being pushed farther and farther apart.

“Is he going to be okay? Mr. Weasley? God George must be freaking out.”

Hermione shrugs. “I haven’t heard anything yet, Harry sent an owl when they got to their destination last night. They hadn’t heard much yet, but I’m sure he’s in good hands at St. Mungos. And I’m sure George will reach out soon, Y/N. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

Y/N gives Hermione a small smile before she goes to join her friends, a pit of despair growing in her stomach.

-

“It’s Christmas eve, Y/N. You’ve been held up in your room sending letters all break, can’t you give it a rest for a few days? I’m sure Daphne or Adrian will understand if they don’t get any letters from you for a bit,” Y/N’s mother says, reaching over to grab the quill from her hand.

It’s been a week since George’s father was attacked, and Y/N has been sending him letters nearly nonstop without hearing anything in return. Her owl always comes back with an empty beak, so she knows he’s been getting the letters, and her heart hurts every time he doesn’t respond. She just wants to know if he’s okay, if there’s anything she can do for him. Y/N knows she’s been ignoring her parents a little too much, but she can’t think about anything except for George.

“I’m not writing to Daphne or Adrian,” Y/N huffs, finally looking up at her parents. They’re sitting at the table having lunch together, or at least her parents are. Y/N’s owl had turned up without a response from George just before food was ready, and Y/N wants to send another to him as soon as possible.

“Well then who have you been writing too?” her father asks. “I don’t think I’ve seen you write this much in your entire life.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, a pink blush appearing on her cheeks. “George Weasley,” she mumbles, looking away.

“George Weasley? Y/N whatever prank that boy pulled on you can be dealt with when you get back to school. There’s no need to be going on and on with him over break,” her mother tuts with a shake of her head.

Y/N’s parents have spent much of their time over the past few years listening to Y/N complain endlessly about both Weasley Twins, so it doesn’t surprise her that her mother thinks her letters to George are out of anger instead of love. Especially since she’s yet to tell them about their relationship.

“Actually, George is my, um. He’s my boyfriend,” Y/N mutters, sheepishly looking back at her parents. They both look shocked and she rolls her eyes. “Don’t look so surprised, I’m a great catch, of course I have a boyfriend.”

Y/N’s father laughs. “Sweetie we’re not shocked that you have a boyfriend, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world of course. But I’m going to be honest, George Weasley is the last person I thought you’d end up with. Last we heard you hated the very sight of him.”

“Well not anymore. I love him, so much. He’s been going through some stuff recently and I just want to make sure he’s okay,” Y/N explains. She makes sure to leave out the part that she thinks he’s going to break up with her when they get back to school, since she’d much rather ignore that for now. “Can I just finish this one letter, please? And then I won’t send another until boxing day, I promise.”

Her mother sighs and reluctantly hands her back the quill. “Fine, just one more letter. But seriously no more until boxing day. Not only is it the holidays but your poor owl needs a few days to rest.”

-

“You should write her back you know,” Ginny comments as she sits down next to George.

George hums, gripping Y/N’s most recent letter in his hands. His chest aches at how sad she sounds, but he can’t bring himself to pick up a quill and write her back. “I don’t know what to say.”

Ginny rolls her eyes. “How about I’m a big fat idiot and the second I see you again I’m going to fall to my knees and beg for your forgiveness? That’s probably a good place to start.”

“Dunno why I have to be the one to apologize,” he mutters, wincing when Ginny smacks him upside the head. “What the hell was that for, Gin?”

“For you continuing to be a big fat idiot,” Ginny spits. “You’ve been acting like a huge asshole to her lately George that’s why you need to apologize. It only takes a person with half a brain to see how you’ve been pushing her away. So cut the crap. Either apologize to Y/N and beg for her forgiveness or break it off.”

The thought of breaking up with Y/N makes his stomach lurch. There’s no doubt in his mind that he wants to be with her, but it feels like he doesn’t know how to anymore. It seems that whenever Y/N is around Adrian is right there too, and it makes anger flare up in his chest. He knows it’s not rational, but it doesn’t make it any easier to stop feeling that way. George wants Y/N all to himself, as selfish as that may be.

“She’s probably gonna break up with me, so I don’t see the point.” George tosses the letter in his hands onto the coffee table and leans back against the couch. “Who knew being in a relationship would be so difficult?”

“It wouldn’t be so difficult if you just talked to her, git,” Ginny points out. “She’s written you a letter practically every day of break, obviously she cares about you and is worried about you.” Ginny pauses so George will look over at her. “What’s wrong anyway? Thought you guys were doing okay?”

George shrugs. “I can’t stand Adrian and his smug fucking face. He’s just there. Always. Watching her, trying to get close with her. And Y/N just sits there and lets him. You know I caught them together in the library a few nights before Dad was attacked.”

Ginny’s jaw drops. “You caught them hooking up?”

“What? No. They were doing homework,” George explains.

Ginny punches George in the thigh as hard as she can. “You’re a fucking moron, George. Since when is doing homework in the library someone cheating? Or a reason to get mad?”

“It wasn’t just the fact that they were doing homework. They were sitting next to each other and he was making her laugh,” George huffs, as if Ginny is the one being unreasonable.

“You’re joking, right?” When George doesn’t say anything, Ginny rolls her eyes. “Since when are you this insecure, George? Y/N is crazy about you. And Adrian is her friend, of course he’s gonna be around.” She bites her lip. “I think you’ve been putting too much thought into this George.”

George sits there for a moment, letting Ginny’s words sink in. Perhaps he has been getting a bit ahead of himself. Something about seeing Y/N with Adrian when he was so worked up over what Draco had been saying must have twisted something in his mind. He had felt jealous about Adrian before that, but never in a way that made him question his relationship with Y/N. Usually all it takes is one look from Y/N and all of his ill thoughts flush away. But lately it seems nothing can calm him down. He’s been putting distance between them in the hopes that his anger would finally go away, but as soon as it feels like he’s back to normal the second Y/N is in his vicinity with Adrian it all comes rushing back.

“I think I have been too,” he admits quietly. “It doesn’t feel real, sometimes. That Y/N is actually mine. I thought I only started developing feelings for her this year, but I think I’ve felt things for her for a while, I was just too stubborn to realize it. And now that I have her I want her all to myself. Like if I share her with other people she might just disappear from my life completely.”

Ginny reaches out to pat George on the shoulder. “Then tell her all of that, George. Because it’s actually kind of sweet in a weird way. Y/N loves you, George. And I know you love her. I don’t want to see either of you get hurt because you don’t have the balls to just talk to your girlfriend.”

“What a pep talk you give, Gin,” George chuckles. “But you’re right. I’m gonna talk to her, first chance I get. This is too much to put into a letter. I wanna be able to look at her while I talk to her.”

“Great. Now will you stop being so miserable? It’s really killing the Christmas spirit,” Ginny teases, ruffling his hair.

-

“Are things with George getting any better?” Daphne asks from her spot on Y/N’s bed. Her parents had decided to do some traveling in the new year, and Y/N’s parents allowed Daphne to finish up the last few days of break at their house.

Y/N shakes her head, flopping down next to her. “Nope. I haven’t heard a thing all break. Every time Aries comes back his beak is empty. So, he’s clearly reading my letters and he can’t be bothered to write back.”  

Daphne puts her arm around Y/N and tosses the copy of Witch Weekly she’d been reading off of the bed. “What a fucking prick. I haven’t said much about it because I love you and you’re my best friend and I know he means a lot to you, but Adrian was right. You do deserve better, Y/N. Your boyfriend should be worshiping you, not ignoring you.”

Y/N hadn’t told anyone about George’s dad, and she’s sure he’d get a bit more sympathy from Daphne if she knew, but if Hermione couldn’t even tell her how his Dad got hurt Y/N is sure she shouldn’t tell anyone about it at all. And besides, Hermione had owled the day after Christmas to let her know that Mr. Weasley was home and recovering well. George’s lack of communication cut Y/N deeper after hearing that.

“I think he’s going to break up with me,” Y/N admits out loud for the first time, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I love him so much and I thought he loved me too, but I don’t know. It’s like overnight things changed between us and I’m the only one trying to fix it.”

Daphne pulls Y/N in tight and hugs her. “This is the second time you’ve cried over George being an asshat and my offer still stands. I will have Adrian and Marcus beat him up.”

“The last time I cried over George he was only being an asshat in my head. But now, I’m sure he’s being an asshat in real life too,” Y/N sniffles. “God I wish break lasted just a little bit longer. I don’t know what I’m gonna do when I see him on that stupid train tomorrow.”

Daphne starts to stroke Y/N’s hair and wipes away a few of her tears. “Well just say the word and I’ll have Adrian and Marcus on him before he can even say Quidditch.”

-

When Y/N and Daphne get on platform 9 ¾  the next morning George’s shock of red hair is the first thing she sees. She forces herself to stay focused on her parents as they say goodbye, no matter how badly she wants to look over at him. Her heart feels like it’s going to beat out of her chest, and all she really wants to do is sneak onto the train and to her friends without running into any Weasley. But of course, the second she’s on the train she walks smack into a hard, familiar chest.

“Trying to mow me down?” George teases, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist.

It reminds Y/N of when they were still dancing around each other, too scared to admit their feelings, and it punches a hole in her chest. “Hi, George.” Y/N pushes away from him and starts to walk away, but George’s hand wraps around her wrist and pulls her back towards him. “What?” she asks flatly, looking up at him. Her eyes catch something shiny stuck to the scarf he’s wearing, and Y/N bites her lip to keep from smiling. “You got your Christmas present I see.”

She had wanted to get him something big and flashy for their first Christmas together. But everything she considered just didn’t seem special or sentimental enough. She had found it in some muggle store in London while shopping with her Mum, and even though it was tiny and simple, it was the perfect thing. It’s a little enamel pin in the shape of a teapot. The hours she spent with George scrubbing teapots is the foundation of their relationship, it was after that night that she first started falling in love with him.

George bites his lip and reaches out to cup her cheek. “I was an asshole to you. And you have every right to be super mad at me. But can we go talk somewhere, please?”

Y/N nods and lets George grab her hand and take her over to an empty compartment. It’s clear to her that she and George have some issues they need to work out, but she’s happy to just enjoy some time with him for now. They haven’t been alone together in nearly three weeks, and she’s been dying for his attention. She takes a seat as George closes the door behind them and pulls him down next to her once he’s close enough.

“I have a lot of things to say and I don’t know if they’re going to come out right so please just stick with me while I try and say them, okay?” George takes a deep breath and reaches out to grab Y/N’s hands in his. “I’ve missed you so much these past few weeks, even before break. I think Draco knocked something loose in my head when he punched me, I’ve just been so angry since that day, and I don’t really know why. Just seeing you and Adrian together fills me with rage. And I know it shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I don’t know what I would do without you. I just kept getting in my head about everything and it made me not treat you the best. I’m sorry, Y/N.”  

“Then why push me away, George? Why not answer one of my stupid letters? I’ve been losing my mind here, trying to figure out what’s going on in that head of yours. I meant what I said that night, I’m yours forever, Weasley.”

George sighs and leans down to press a lingering kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “I started over analyzing everything and I couldn’t tell what was real and what was going on in my head. You mean so much to me, and the thought of losing you made me go even crazier.” George pauses so he can tuck a stray piece of hair behind Y/N’s ear. “I should have written to you and at least let you know I was okay, I’m sorry for that. But this is a conversation I didn’t want to have in a letter. I wanted to be able to see you and hold you.”

“It’s okay, George. I guess when we started dating there was some stuff we should have talked about that we kind of just ignored and that’s partially my fault. I just tried to integrate you into my life that already existed, when in reality we should have started something new together,” Y/N explains, squeezing his hands. “Adrian and I are closer than normal friends, and I can see why that would concern you. Same thing with the sweater. Of course, you’d want me to wear yours, I shouldn’t have even questioned it. I’m sorry, George. I’ll try and do better too, okay? Because I love you and I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“I love you so, so much.  And I’ve been really shit at showing it. I meant what I said that night too, Y/N. Forever.” George leans down and presses a soft kiss to her lips, melting when she returns it. “I don’t deserve you.” George kisses her again, winding his arms around her. “Alright, I think now is the perfect time to give you your Christmas present.”

Y/N holds her hands out, bouncing up and down excitedly. “Come on then, let’s see what you got me!”

George rolls his eyes playfully and takes a long black box out of his jacket pocket. “I do want to preface this by saying that I bought this ages ago before I got your present in the mail, and they do say great minds think alike.”

“You got me a tea pot pin too?” she teases, taking the box from George. A quiet gasp leaves her lips as she opens the box, and she gives George a small smile. “George it’s perfect.” Inside the box is a delicate silver chain with two charms attached. One is in the shape of the letter G and the other is a teapot. “Although I find it quite funny that we both got each other teapot related items.”

“Well that’s the night it all began, isn’t it?” George ask as he takes the box from Y/N. He grabs the necklace and motions for her to turn around so he can put it on her. “After that detention I knew I couldn’t live without you, Y/N. Listening to you talk about wanting to be a healer, and how you wanted to change the world, it made me see you differently. Made me start to fall in love with you. Besides I don’t think I could find a charm of a secret passageway.”

Y/N giggles, and as soon as the necklace is on Y/N turns around and pulls George into a kiss, her hand coming up to grip the charms tightly. When George starts to pull away Y/N surges forward to keep their lips pressed together for a few extra moments. “I love you, George. Thank you.”

“Course, darling. Anything for you.” George pulls Y/N into his chest and presses a kiss to the top of her head, the anger he’s felt for so long finally quieting down.

[prettyboyjackhughes]

-Boy Best Friends- [J. Hughes & T.Smith]

Literally no one asked for this but Kelly @prettyboycozens and I were talking about how much we love Jack and Ty's friendship, especially after the interview of Jack where Ty comes in and then came up with this idea and I had to write it so here we are! Hope you enjoy!

Jack and I had been close since we were little. We started out next door neighbors then he was the weird boy who I waited at the bus stop with, then he became the boy I had every class with in middle school. Around 6th grade is when we finally clicked and became best friends. He calls me ‘Ranch’ even though my name is Rachel, all because one time his phone autocorrected ‘Rach’ to ‘Ranch’ and he thinks it’s the funniest thing ever. He even changed my contact name to ‘Ranch’.

It’s been an interesting 8 years being friends with him and watching him grow up. The funny thing is, I’m pretty sure we’ve only spent a full year together one time during our whole friendship. He’s always been off doing all his hockey stuff while I’ve been home in Michigan. But then college rolled around. He got drafted the summer after my senior year, managing to watch me walk across the stage at graduation before flying up to Vancouver for his draft 2 days later. I watched him get drafted on TV and remember the thrill of hearing New Jersey picked him because coincidentally, the college I was planning on attending, Seton Hall, was about 20 minutes away from the arena he would be playing in. Knowing I would be getting to spend, hopefully, the next 4 years with my best friend within a short car ride’s distance away for the first time in 8 years was some of the best news I had gotten in a long time.  The first year was rough but I managed to survive, mainly because of Jack. It took a while to figure out the dynamic of our friendship but we settled into a routine and a comfortable cycle. We went back to Michigan for the summer, spending it with our families. He trained most of the summer while I worked. But almost every evening was spent together. Then it came time for us to head back to Jersey and back to the chaos that waited for us.

“Why are you living in the dorm again next year? When Ty and I have a perfectly good room for you to stay in?” Jack asked, his face way too close to his phone. We had been on FaceTime for at least the last 2 hours, him distracting me as I attempted to do homework.

“Because I can? Why would I wanna live with you and Ty?” I shot back, smirking as he looked offended.

“Well that one hurts. Hey, I was just offering so you didn’t have to worry about getting stuck with a bad roommate, like freshman year.” I grimaced at the thought of my freshman year roommate. I had spent more time camped out in Jack’s apartment than at my own dorm.

“That is a good point. But who said you and Ty are good roommates? I know for one, you never pick up anything, your room was always a disaster when we were little and Ty sings in the shower so there’s two cons.” Jack rolls his eyes.

“My singing is lovely! You’re just jealous you can’t sing as well as me!” Ty yells from across the room as Jack turns the camera to show him.

“We’ll work on the singing. And I’ve gotten much better at cleaning up after myself. I even know how to do laundry now!” Jack says, excitedly. I laugh and put my pen down.

“This really isn’t convincing me to move in with you two. Just saying.”  Jack rolls his eyes.

“Just give us a chance. It’ll be fun.” I shrug.

“Okay fine. But you do know that means Brady will be around the apartment, right?” Jack’s face screws up a little and I roll my eyes. Brady is my boyfriend that I met midway through my freshman year. He was a sophomore, majoring in business and just happened to be at the very first party I went to. He was older, in a fraternity and sweet-talked me. I fell head over heels for him almost instantly. But the issue was that Jack and Ty weren’t huge fans.

“Jack, he's not that bad.” This time it’s Jack’s turn to scoff.

“Yeah because having to go and pick your drunk boyfriend up from a party every 2 nights doesn’t make him that bad.” Ty appears next to him and starts talking.

“Rach, we’re just looking out for you. We don’t exactly love the guy.”

“Well that’s what’s gonna happen so get used to the idea.” Jack looks over at Ty.

“I think we can be civil. So you’re moving in?” I nod and Jack cheers. I roll my eyes and start to think about what I have to pack.

The next two weeks are a whirlwind of chaotic packing and moving. The boys were sweet enough to give me the biggest bedroom in the apartment, even though I had the least amount of stuff out of the 3 of us. Once I had moved in, the boys and I settled into a routine of me cooking, then cleaning up, them doing laundry and me folding; really just a lot of splitting up the housework and jobs around the house to get them done. Brady was around a lot, but Jack and Ty were civil and not complete jerks. I was proud of them. But then one night, while Jack, Ty and I were watching some movie Ty had been wanting to watch, I got yet another call from Brady asking me to come pick him up.

“Baby…I…need you to come get me…I-“ Brady’s drunk voice is drowned out by the yelling and music in the background and I can’t hear him anymore.

“Brady, where are you? I’ll come get you.” He mumbles something back but I can’t understand it so I just end the call.

“I have to go get Brady. He’s drunk at a party again.” I say, sighing as I get up off the couch. Jack and Ty exchange a look and then Jack gets up too.

“I’ll drive you. You’ll have to make sure he doesn’t puke in my car though.” I nod as Ty stands up too.

“Might as well come along for the ride.” I slip my shoes on and follow Jack out the door of the apartment, Ty closing the door behind us.

“Let me check his location and I’ll tell you where we’re going.” After enough times of being left sitting somewhere and having no idea where Brady was, he ended up agreeing to share his location with me. In times like these, it was his saving grace.

“He’s about half an hour away. The party must be somewhere in New York.” Jack doesn’t say anything, just starts driving. The ride there is silent, for the first time. Usually Jack and Ty won’t shut up when we’re in the car, constantly fighting about what music to listen to, whose turn it is to drive; everything under the sun is up for discussion when we’re in the car. I usually sit back and listen, occasionally injecting myself into the conversation when I feel necessary. I’ll also play mediator when they’re fighting over something stupid. But the fact that it was silent in the car right now, made everything so much worse. It feels like we’re driving to the end of the world.

“There’s the house.” I say, almost 45 minutes later. Jack manages to get the car parked and turns around to look at me.

“You want us to come with you to find him?” I shake my head, sliding out of the car and shutting the door behind me. This would be the 5th time I’ve had to pick Brady’s drunk ass up from a party in the last 2 weeks. I was getting pretty tired of it. But his explanation was that it was because he was in a fraternity. He said that it was apart of his “brotherhood” or something stupid like that. I didn’t buy any of it but I loved him so I let it go. And as I waded my way through ridiculously sweaty bodies all dancing to way too loud music, I remembered how much I didn’t like partying.

“Hey you’re Brady’s girlfriend right?” A girl asks, grabbing my arm and yelling over the music. I turn to her and nod, an eyebrow raised.

“I just saw him go into a room with some other girl. Top of the stairs on the left.” I gulped, hoping she was wrong.

“Thanks!” I yell back, hurrying over to the stairs and taking them two at a time. I wind through people going up and down the stairs and manage to get to the door. As my hand finds the handle, I take a deep breath, hoping and praying that the sight behind this door isn’t going to be what I think it is. I finally bite back the fear and push the door open. Sure enough, sprawled out across the bed with some girl’s hands all over his bare chest is my boyfriend.

“Baby? Hey I-“ He says, starting to sit up.

“Fuck you. Hope she’s worth it.” I spit out, glaring at him before turning around to rush out of the room. I stumbled down the stairs, bumping into people and blindly apologizing as I pushed through the crowd. Somehow I managed to make it out of the house and into the back seat of Jack’s car.

“Hey hey hey are you okay? Where’s Brady?” Jack asked, a concerned look plastered across his face.

“He-he cheated on me. Wi-with some girl at the p-party.” I stuttered, fighting the tears pressing against my eyes. He and Ty exchange a look and then both look at me.

“Just drive Jacky. Please.” I whisper as the tears finally start to slow a little. It’s silent again for most of the car ride. My phone kept buzzing with texts and calls from Brady but finally, after what seemed like the thousandth call, I put it on do not disturb and tossed onto the seat next to me.

“Well, I mean, there’s always the option of kicking his ass.” Ty says from the front seat, looking up into the rearview mirror at me.

“What do you say, Jacky boy?” I bury my face in my hands and finally let the tears fall.

“Shit Ty, she’s crying! You broke her!” Jack says, hitting Ty’s arm as he looks back at me.

“I didn’t break her! How is it my fault!” They continue to argue back and forth the rest of the ride home, which would usually make me smile and roll my eyes but not today. Not after what just happened.

As soon as we get back to the apartment, I rush inside and to my room, closing the door behind me. I heard Jack and Ty come in not long after me and whisper about something for a while. I hear the front door open and close again and then Jack tapping lightly on my door.

“Hey Ranch, you okay?” He asks, getting a tiny smile from me because of the nickname.

“I should’ve listened to you and Ty. You said he wasn’t good for me but I didn’t listen. I-I thought he loved me.” This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve cried to Jack about boys. I’ve had my share of boyfriends through the years and every single break up was cried out, usually over the phone with Jack.

“Ty went to go get you ice cream and I remembered how much you like bubble baths so I got one ready for you if you want…” He says, awkwardly picking at his thumb and looking at me.

“Seriously, how did I get so lucky to have you as my best friend? You and Ty?” He smiles a little as I sit up and walk over to where he’s standing in the doorway.

“You both are going to make some very lucky girls happy someday, you know that right?” He smiles and nods as I hug him.

“Now aren’t you glad you moved in here?” I smile and nod, looking up at him.

“Yeah. Yeah I am.”

[uswnt-keeper]

Focus Isn’t My Strong Suit

Prompt by @cpaeralricey: Can you do a Kelley x youngersister!reader quarantining together and the reader has to to do School online but struggles cause of their ADHD and just lots of fluff and Kelley helping the crazy kid out. Does that make any sense? If not don’t worry about it.

Note before we start. Sorry if this is terrible, I don’t have ADHD so I don’t really know what it’s like, I tried to make this is fun as possible. Also just for future reference I will no longer be writing Kelley, Alex, or JJ fics. (There will be my final Alex post today, but that’s it).

This royally sucked... like to a whole other level of sucking... does that sound weird? It sounds weird, oh well... whatever. That’s not the point, the point is, I’m stuck doing online school, which normally isn’t that bad, but it all kind of happened all at once.

You see, I’d been flown out to visit Kelley, my older sister, in my spring break which happened to be at the beginning of March. I hadn’t seen her in a long time between her traveling for different teams, and I missed her. I miss all of my siblings honestly. Jerry was off doing business man things, and Erin was off hanging with her besties on some beach somewhere. Kelley was the youngest of my older siblings, but shes 32, I’m 16, big age difference there. I’d been adopted by my family at a young age and so, of course there would be an age difference, but they were family and Kelley and I were close.

Anyway, back to my main point of how much this sucked. The nation went on lockdown literally a week into my stay, I couldn’t leave for the airport or anything and Kelley’s games and trainings were suspended after the SheBelieves cup, even the Olympics were cancelled. So I was stuck, but that wasn’t what sucked, I was with Kelley, that was great, but then came online school.

Online school, for someone like me, is the worst possible option. I struggled with ADHD and paying attention in a normal class, but sitting on my own in a room of distractions would be even worse, I mean... how was I NOT suppose to say dream or cheat on a test?!

Not only that, but I was awaiting my prescription, we had to start ordering it so it shipped to Kelley’s apartment in Utah. So with that going on, we were now in late March and we realized it would be another day before my pills arrives... and I was out.

“Kelley!” I yelled from my bathroom, looking at the empty bottle.

Kelley came rushing in, “What, what is it?!”

“I’m out of meds,” I said hyper focused on the writing on the bottle.

“Oh.... OH WHAT?!” She grabbed the bottle out my hands, shaking the orange container around as if she was trying to summon more pills to her.

“It’s just a day, it won’t be that bad right?” I said and Kelley looked at me with a glare.

“When was the last time you weren’t on your meds?” She asked.

I thought about it for a moment, “Uhh, probably before I was diagnosed.”

“So when you were bouncing off the walls?” She asked and I shrugged, walking out the bathroom.

“Look, I have school in like... oh actually I’m late,” I said looking at my phone, it was only 8, but class started at 7:45.

Kelley groaned as I rushed to my laptop, she had moved to the dining table after finding me staring at my ceiling for an entire class, she was fun as a sister, but her feeling of responsibly over me was unbearable.

I logged into the class with my camera off, apologizing for being late and I made up some random excuse. I looked to Kelley who had just walked out of my room, and she rolled her eyes at me and tossed me t-shirt. I muted myself and looked at her confused.

“You forgot to put one on,” she said before I could ask and I looked down at myself realizing she was right, so I begrudgingly pulled in on with a huff.

After my first class, I had my second period, which was a study hall, and I hated it, all I ever did was stare at off into space, which ended up happening this time too. I went through the whole school day, completely unable to focus on anything as I felt my ADHD consume my movements and thoughts.

“Y/N!” Kelley snapped me out of my trance, I realized she sat in front of me, working on something of her own, “Your teacher asked you a question,” she said.

I unmuted myself to apologize before asking her to repeat the question. The one good thing about ADHD was that I often retained large chunks of info if it was interesting enough, so I had the knowledge to answer the question this time.

When I muted myself again I sighed, it was times liked these I hated my condition, it was unbearable and made me miss so much shit.

“You okay Speedster?” A nickname Kelley had gifted me at the age of 4 when I literally couldn’t stop running around, it’s fitting now as I’ve followed in her footsteps and started playing soccer.

“I hate not being able to focus,” I complained and finally, as I said that, the class was over.

“Well,” Kelley started, closing my laptop for me, “Maybe you should walk around or something, get some focus back?” She asked, I sighed again, it was the best idea so far, “I’ll be here if you if you need me.”

I stood up, taking my computer to my room and threw it on the bed. There was no way I could focus on doing yoga or lifting weights, not at all. All I wanted to do was run around, do anything but what I was doing. It was probably about 5 minutes in my room before I rushed out my room, heading to the kitchen to search Kelley’s cabinets.

“What are you doing in there?” Kelley turned after I rummaged for a few minutes.

“Food,” I replied.

“If your hungry I can make you sandwich or something,” she said, looking away from her computer.

“Ughhhhh,” I complained, “A sandwich sounds so boring,” I groaned and she rolled her eyes at me, going back to the meeting she was in.

I left the kitchen, heading back to my room, sitting on my bed feeling restless. I tried writing and reading, I even did some homework, but eventually I got bored again, and I felt antsy. That is, until I found something I could compare to gold.

“No way,” I whispered to myself, pulling two things out from under the guest bed, “This is gonna be so much fun.”

Kelley’s POV

I was worried about Y/N, I knew she would feel bad about her ADHD, usually I’d go distract her, but I was caught in this stupid meeting for another few minutes. I was listening to what my manager was saying amongst the other people there, until something stung me.

I flinched, looking at my arm, then around me and at the floor, finding a... nerf bullet?

There was a click and another one hit my temple this time.

“Ow,” I complained, looking to where I heard giggling.

It was Y/N of course, hiding behind a cardboard cut out of me with a nerf gun reaching around it.

“Y/N, don’t you—“ She shot me again, laughing hysterically, I turned to my computer, “Listen guys, I’m gonna have to go, got something to sort out,” I said and they nodded as I logged off.

Y/N looked at me with a challenge, if this is what she needed to calm down, then I guess a little match wouldn’t be bad.

“It is so on,” I said, reaching into one of the kitchen cabinets.

“WHAT?! You have a nerf gun just sitting in your kitchen?!”

“Never know when it might come in handy,” I shot at her, the bullet sticking itself right in her forehead and she huffed and smiled.

“I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“You wish,” I replied.

Turns out the one round turned into three hours of an intense and heated nerf battle, ending with Y/N surrendering to the couch where sweat fell from her head.

“Alright, alright, you win,” she said exhausted for once and I plopped down on the couch next to her.

“Told you I’d kick your butt,” I said.

“Surrendering doesn’t mean you kicked my butt,” she complained and I laughed.

“How you feeling?” I asked, looking to her now.

“Exhausted for the first time today,” she said with a smile, “Never thought I’d be happy to be tired.”

I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pulled her in to a hug, “You know there’s nothing wrong with your ADHD right?” I asked and she shrugged, “If you ever feel bad about it, remember that you can totally start a nerf war and it’s completely justified,” I said and she laughed.

“Thanks Kell.”

“Anytime kiddo.”

There was a pause.

“Do you have food?”

“I knew you wanted something.”

She laughed again and we spent the rest of the night eating and watching movies until we fell into a deep sleep.

[halcyonstorm]

The Girl at the Library Chapter 2

Pairing: Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoe

Themes: College AU, Library, Fluff, Slow Burn, Falling in Love, Female Hange Zoe, Student!Levi

Word Count: 5870

Summary: Levi visits Hange in her dorm. He misses his family but is too busy to drive. Hange has a car.

Chapter: 2/3

Warning: Mild Language

Read on AO3 here

Levi went back to his dorm room after the encounter with Hange. He seemed to be walking a bit faster.

The skip in his step, unfortunately, quickly dissipated once he walked in his room. His roommate was hanging out with a few friends, two he recognized were the guys who fucked up his laptop. As soon as they saw Levi, their conversation came to a halt. The two brats nervously gathered their things and rushed out of the room. Levi shook his head in annoyance, shutting the door behind them. He placed his wet bag on the floor. Right. He was soaked from the rain. 

“Levi, good to see you,” Erwin --his roommate-- said, slightly annoyed. There was a card game set up on the small table in their dorm. Levi didn’t respond and walked past them. He always had friends over. Levi was always pissed about it. The least he could’ve done was ask. The room was small enough as it is. Also, Erwin and his friends always left a mess.  

Levi’s and Erwin’s dorm room was small. Would Hange’s room be this small? he asked himself. He felt himself get hot. He grabbed a fresh change of clothes, went to their bathroom and changed. He wore a pair of grey sweats and a white t-shirt. He hung up all his wet clothes in their shower. Levi took a deep breath, leaving the bathroom. He spent the rest of the night thinking of his new friend, and his mood was restored.

The next day couldn’t come fast enough. He woke up at 8am that morning to go on a run and to get some of his physical homework done. He also showered, spending an extra minute than usual. He wondered if he should bring something for Hange. 

“Erwin, what snacks do you have?” He asked, starting to dress in the bathroom. He put on a pair of black jeans and an olive green t-shirt.

“Uh,” he shuffled through his ‘secret’ stash. Levi knew where it was. “I’ve got chips, granola bars, ramen, peanut butter…”

What the fuck am I gonna do with peanut butter? He asked himself. 

Levi shook his head and rolled his eyes. He finished getting dressed and grabbed a few bags of chips and stuffed them in his bag. He made sure to pack his notes too.

It was finally 10:45 and he decided to leave to go to her dorm. He brought his phone, keys, wallet, and backpack with him.

“Be back later,” Levi called out before closing the door behind him. Levi began walking to her room. He had to take the elevator up four floors, making stops along the way, but he made it. 506… On his left side, there it was. On the door were two drawn cut-outs of the two residents. He recognized Hange’s drawing right away. It was colored in with colored pencils. The character had her same brown hairstyle; closed, happy eyes; oval glasses; and a big toothy smile. She wore a green long sleeve and brown pants. Her character was waving. Under her character, it has the name “Hange” in big green block letters. The other character was of a girl with short blonde hairstyle and blue eyes. Her character was smiling but had her eyes open. That must be her roommate. The name written underneath the drawing was “Nanaba” in blue bubble letters. Levi hesitantly knocked at the door after admiring the drawings.

Hange opened the door. “Hey!” “Hi.”

She invited him in. One half of the dorm room was messy and the other was averagely neat, at least in Levi’s eyes. She shut the door behind him. 

“Ehh, I’m sorry my side of the room is kinda messy,” She confessed. She had the messy side of the room. Her bed was made, but her desk was a mess. Papers, books, and food wrappers were spread out on the desk and migrated to her bed. There were at least four empty ramen containers on her desk, which she clumsily grabbed and tossed away. Hange grabbed the papers off her desk and moved them to the side, clearing the spot for him. She lazily crumpled some food wrappers and threw them in the trash, one wrapper missing and falling on the floor. Levi shuddered. How did she live like this? The foot of her bed met the left edge of the desk. Her desk was big; It had many drawers and an overhang where she had small knick knacks including small comic book figurines, plants, and books. She had a figurine of a character with a green hooded cape on who looked like a soldier. He really liked that one.

“Let me just log you on.” She bent over the chair to use the computer. Levi put his bag down next to the desk. “Thank you.” Levi said. 

“Oh, It’s nothing,” she said. After a few moments, she stood upright, backing away from the computer. “Alright! You’re good to go. If you need my help, I’m here. I have some work to do too.” He nodded, sitting down in the very comfortable desk chair. He let out a relieved sigh. Hange chuckled.

“Comfortable, right?” She asked, jumping on her bed and crossing her legs. Levi agreed. It was comfortable. It was one of those gaming-like chairs with cushions and lower back support. He noticed she had a bunch of bookmarks tabbed which were disorganized. He began to type in “Addison’s Disease” and as he did, he noticed it was recently searched. Before he could ask about it, Hange began to speak.

“I found some articles for your paper,” she explained, not looking away from her books. “I printed them out for you.” 

Levi was pleasantly surprised. He hid a smile. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

She shrugged. “Pfft. Shush. I wanted to.” There was a pause. “Oh! I made sandwiches for us. I know it’s kinda early for lunch, but I’ve been up since 6 this morning so I’m starving. I hope you like PB&J.”

Fuck! Levi thought. Erwin’s peanut butter. I could’ve made sandwiches. He mentally smacked his forehead.

“I brought some chips,” Levi added. “Take whatever you want.” He grabbed some bags from his backpack and placed them on her bed. He grabbed a blue bag of Doritos, she grabbed a bag of Fritos.

“Thanks,” she said, popping the bag open by squeezing it. Some chips flew out of the bag, falling on the bed. 

“What?” Levi asked, bewildered. Why did she open it like that?

“I’m not good with pulling the seal open…” she admitted, chuckling. Levi found it weird. Levi locked eyes with her and opened the bag by pulling the seal open with ease. Hange pouted.

“No fair.” She laughed. He was never going to get any work done if she kept distracting him. He grabbed a sandwich and ate it. He really enjoyed it, especially since she made it. 

“Thanks for lunch,” he said. He was kind of hungry anyways. 

“No problem!”

The two began to work.

-

About three hours passed before Levi finished his paper. He ended his final sentence with a loud tap of the period on the keyboard. He took a deep breath and looked Hange's way. She was prone, resting her chin in her left palm. Her feet were in the air, crossed at the ankles. She was reading a textbook and had a pen and paper on her right side, probably answering homework. She looked very studious and attractive. 

“I’m finished with my paper…” Levi said aloud. “Can I read it to you?” 

Hange quickly wrote something down on her paper, dropped the pen, and pushed herself up to sit criss-crossed.

“Yep! I’m all ears.”

He began to read through his paper. He realized during his speech that this was probably the most he’s said to Hange. He felt guilty in a way. He was bad with words, so he felt it was better if he kept his mouth shut. Hange didn’t mind, though. She enjoyed hearing him talk, as she found it very soothing. As he read, he felt her eyes on him. He finally finished reading his paper.

“I have a few suggestions on some wording, but besides that, I think it’s great,” Hange said, getting out of bed. She walked to Levi’s right, then squatted. Levi felt himself get nervous. She was really close. He thought she smelled good. 

“Scroll up a little…” she said, gesturing to him to scroll up. He did as she asked. “There. That sentence: ‘Medications used to treat Addison’s Disease include mineralocorticoids and glucocorticoids, such as fludrocortisone and hydrocortisone.’ It is kinda wordy. They’re both corticosteroids, so I think you should shorten it. You can mention the classes of the drugs in the next sentence, if you wanted to. Also, ‘A big teaching point includes following the steroid regimen exactly as prescribed. Abruptly discontinuing this medication will result in adrenal suppression.’ I think there is a better word to use than ‘big’. What about ‘important’, or ‘essential’ or ‘paramount’...”

He turned his head to look at her. Hange’s sentence had trailed off the moment he looked at her. She was stunned by his eyes. She hadn’t been this close to him, so that moment was the first time she could admire his eyes up close. They were a beautiful, piercing steel blue. When she realized he was staring back at her, she stood up, shaking out her legs nervously. 

“‘Paramount’ will do,” Levi said after a moment passed. He typed it in.

“Good job, Levi. You’ll score well with your paper,” Hange said, trying not to stutter. She meant it. She was proud of what he wrote.

“Thanks. I couldn’t have done it without your help, though, four-eyes.” Hange liked the nickname. She smiled and patted his shoulder before going back to sit on her bed. She grabbed her phone and realized she didn’t have his phone number. Did he have a phone? He must have. She thinks she saw him use it once. 

“If you need my computer again, or just wanna text, I can give you my number,” Hange blurted out. When Levi looked at her, he realized she wasn’t looking at him when she asked. He agreed, handing his phone to her. 

“Go for it,” he said. He was attempting to sound ‘cool’ (and it worked). Hange reached to grab his unlocked phone. She found his contacts and put her name and number in. She sent herself a text message from his phone. She was hoping he would text her more. When she closed out to the home screen, she noticed his background was a photo of him and a small, dark haired lady.

“Is this your mother?” Hange asked, handing his phone back to him.

He looked down at his phone and nodded. “Yeah. This photo is from my first day at the university.” He had swiveled the chair to face the bed and her. “I remember she was sad to see me go, but happy too. She was proud of me.” Hange’s heart swelled. Levi seemed to remember her with a bittersweet smile. Hange frowned a bit.

“Is something wrong?” Hange asked.

“I just… haven’t seen her in a while. I’ve been so busy with assignments and exams that I haven’t had time to go visit her. Every time I have free time, I’m studying or catching up on sleep...”

“I can take you,” Hange offered instantaneously. She didn’t even have to think about it. She wanted to help her friend.

Levi’s eyes widened. “What?”

“You have to get stuff done and I have a car on campus and a license Let me take you.” She explained. Before he could bud in, she continued. “What day would you like to go? This weekend? I’m free this weekend.”

“I’d never get any studying done if we did that,” Levi said. We. 

“You didn’t say no,” Hange retorted with a smirk. “I’ll be good. I won’t distract you. Promise.”

Levi took a deep sigh. He really wanted to, more than he let on. “Saturday morning works for me.”

-

A few days passed by and now Friday came along. Levi’s paper was due in three days, so he wanted to go to the library to revise it before printing and submitting it. He knew Hange worked on Friday’s too, so he had another motive. 

His class had ended, then he was on his way to the library. When he entered, he heard laughter. Don’t people know they’re supposed to be quiet in the library? He wondered, but he didn’t pay much mind to it. There was a blonde woman standing at the front of the counter, leaning over it. He heard Hange’s voice and laugh and felt his heart skip a beat.

“I gotta see if the patron needs help,” Hange said to the girl without noticing who walked in.

“Zoe, since when do you actually care about your job?” The blonde said playfully. Hange smiled and rolled her eyes. Zoe? Hange made her way around the desk and saw Levi standing, looking at some books in the entryway.

“Levi! Good to see you,” Hange said, pleasantly surprised. She held her hands behind her back. “Computer?”

“Yeah.”

“Very good, come here.” Hange walked towards the desk, then around it. Levi stayed on the opposing side. “Levi, this is Nanaba. Nanaba, this is Levi. Nanaba is my roommate.”

“Nice to meet you, Levi,” Nanaba said, smiling at him. He nodded, exchanging pleasantries. Hange wrote his name down on the paper. “Okay, Levi. You’re all set.” He muttered a “thanks'' and then set his stuff down by the computer. He heard Nanaba whispering something to Hange. She shook her head, waving at her to follow her towards the back. Hange didn’t want to disturb Levi, and she also didn’t want Levi to hear what they were talking about.

Hange and Nanaba sat down at the table in the break room. Hange sipped on a can of soda.

“That’s Levi?” Nanaba asked, punching Hange’s shoulder playfully.

“Yeah. He’s just my friend. I don’t know why you care so much.”

“You two were in our dorm… alone?! Do I need to clean the room again?”

“No! He just had to work on his project. My side of the room is messy, though.”

“Uh huh… I can tell by the way he looks at you that you two aren’t ‘just friends’ like you claim,” Nanaba concluded, leaning back and crossing her legs.

“I told you it’s nothing,” Hange reinforced, getting flustered and annoyed. “Besides, he wouldn’t even be attracted to someone like me anyways. I am extremely messy and clumsy. His shirts are never wrinkled, and he is always extremely clean and neat.”

Nanaba rolled her eyes. “Haven’t you heard of ‘opposites attract’?” Hange made a “pfft” sound.

“That’s such bullshit.” Hange felt like Nanaba was giving her false hope.

“Well you wouldn’t be asking me for advice on your crush then if you thought the whole ‘opposites attract’ thing was bullshit, would you? No.” 

The small bell above the entrance dinged, so Hange stood up. “Nanaba, I’ve got work to do, you know. That’s what you do at a job. Also, he is not my crush. ” Nanaba sighed and stood too. “I’ll see you at home.” She waved before walking ahead. “Bye, Levi. Nice to meet you.” She said in passing. Levi said “see you” to her. The patron who walked in was the same blonde guy with a big nose from last week. Levi recognized him.

“Mike!” Nanaba exclaimed, kissing his cheek. “Good to see you. Ready to go?” Mike nodded, taking her hand. “See you later, Zoe!” She called out before the couple left together. Hange and Levi were alone again. Hange came to the front of the library where Levi was. She sat down in the chair next to him. He turned to face her. Her cheeks were red.

“What time do you want to leave tomorrow?” Hange asked, crossing her legs. 

“Is 9 good? I wanna make sure I spend enough time with her.” Levi suggested. Hange smiled. 

“That’s fine. Just let me know when you want me to pick you up then. I can stay in the area, just send me the address.”

“You can stay, you know,” Levi offered. “You… don’t have to leave.” Hange looked shocked. She was very grateful for his offer.

“Are you sure? I mean, that’s very generous-”

“Don’t question me,” Levi said, looking back at the computer. That means ‘yes, I’m sure’.

“Thanks, Levi,” Hange said, standing up. “I’ll meet you at your dorm at 9 then we can get on the road.”

“Sounds good, Zoe.”

Hange woke up early the next day. She wanted to make sure everything went perfectly. She even got up early to clean out her car, which was a mess. It was full of junk. She had a pre-owned black four-seater that was well loved. She made it as clean as possible, making sure to wipe off the seats of any crumbs. It looked acceptable, and Hange went back inside. She realized at this point how long of a walk it was from her dorm to the parking lot. Nonetheless, she took the extra trip. She wanted to make a good impression. When she got back to her dorm, she packed a small backpack. Levi had texted her the address, and it was about an hour away. It was in the city, however, so it would probably take more time. She kept reminding herself to keep her mouth shut during the car ride to help him study.

She arrived at his dorm room a bit late, around 9:10. She felt really bad about this, but Levi didn’t seem to mind. Levi wore a grey university hoodie with black jeans. It was supposed to be cold today. Hange wore a black zip-up jacket with a pair of blue jeans and white sneakers. Her hair was half-up and half-down. Levi liked those colors on her. They headed for the elevator and walked to the parking lot. Hange omitted the part of her morning where she cleaned out her car as they talked about their mornings. They reached her car. She opened the trunk. He put his bag in the trunk and shut it.

“Don’t forget to keep your books in the front so you can study. I packed snacks. If you want any just let me know,” Hange said, unlocking the front door and getting in the car. 

“Thanks,” Levi said, getting in the car. He closed the door. Hange locked the car and opened her phone. She began searching his mom’s address on the GPS. It ‘dinged’ when it found her house, and she propped her phone up in the holder.

As Hange began to drive, she noticed how Levi murmurs to himself when he studies. She can hear him repeating medications to himself and reciting the cards. Hange smiled. She found it endearing. The roads were pretty busy. They had left by 9:30am. Hange enjoyed driving, however, she wasn’t the most safe driver. She would make sudden stops, jerking Levi and Hange forward in their seats. Levi was grateful his seatbelt worked. She would make sharp turns and didn’t allow the wheel to return when the turn was finished. With one of the stops, it threw the cards that were in his lap on the floor. Levi took a deep sigh, packing up his cards.

“Sorry, Levi.”

“I’m taking a break,” Levi said, closing his eyes. “I have this exam coming up and it’s all about antihypertensive medications. There are too many, I think I’m going to develop hypertension.”

Hange laughed out loud. “They aren’t that bad. You’ve gotta come up with songs and mnemonics to remember them, then it's easy!” Levi scoffed.

“Do I look like someone who comes up with songs to remember things?” Levi asked, crossing his arms.

“No,” Hange quickly replied. “But you happen to be sitting next to someone who does. Read some of the meds to me.”

“Oh, god. No,” Levi moaned, opening the window. The breeze made his hair blow in the wind. Hange was lucky enough to catch a glance. She caught a whiff of his shampoo.

“I will stop this car right now,” Hange threatened playfully, raising her voice. She made a jolting stop at a light. Levi jerked forward again and groaned.

“Fine.”

He pulled his cards out of his backpack again, finding the medication cards. “First are the ACE inhibitors. These medications include the -prils… Lisinopril, enalapril. These help lower the blood pressure by inhibiting the action of angiotension converting enzyme, which causes vasoconstriction. Adverse effects include high potassium, orthostatic hypotension, angioedema, persistent coughing…”

“Hmmm… ACE,” Hange said proudly. Levi shook his head in confusion. “What?”

“ACE: Angioedema, Cough, hypErkalemia.” Levi was shocked. “Thanks…” He murmured.

“Give me another one,” Hange challenged. Levi shuffled through his stack. “What about Beta blockers?”

“Ah…” Hange sighed. “Tell me about them. I only know so much, you know.” You can’t say you know then say I know that you only know so much. You are confusing, Levi thought.

“Beta blockers act on beta1 and beta2-adrenergic receptors, which can affect the heart, lungs, and bladder. These will lower blood pressure, as well as cause bradycardia, hypoglycemia, fatigue, and bronchospasms in patients with respiratory issues such as asthma and COPD,” Levi explained. Hange was so happy. She was helping him, and got to hear him talk. She decided at that moment that she loved his voice.

“Beta blockers seem to slow everything down,” Hange began. “Beta blockers make everything low and slow, right? They lower heart rate and blood pressure, they lower blood sugar, quote en quote ‘lower energy’ by causing fatigue… That’s what I would try to remember.”

Levi was impressed, and he isn’t impressed easily. She was extremely clever with her mnemonics, and she wasn’t even a pharmacology major.

“You are…” Levi began. Hange looked at him for a moment while they stopped at another light. He felt woozy, but in a good way. She looked nice. “Such a nerd.” Hange beamed.

“I’ll help you more later but I gotta focus on the road now. Levi smiled, putting his cards away. Hange noticed this, and turned the radio on. She got distracted trying to pick a channel, which made Levi frantic.

“I will pick a channel. Focus on the road, four-eyes,” He decided, shaking his head. His heart almost fell out of his chest. He made a mental note to never let her drive him anywhere again. Hange sighed, submissively agreeing, putting both hands on the wheel. They got into the city. Hange hadn’t been to the city often, even though it was not too far away. Levi disliked the city. It was too loud for him. Being out at the Uni didn’t make it as easy for him to sleep as he had originally thought. He was used to hearing the hustle and bustle of the city, that his ears buzzed with silence at night time on campus. Levi attempted to give Hange directions as they weaved their way through the busy roads. She almost got into two car accidents. She just laughed it off, but Levi was frazzled.

Finally, Levi thought. Out of the main city. Levi took a deep, deep breath. His mom lived on the outskirts of the city, which was very convenient. They were almost there. Hange finally found the house and pulled into the driveway. The house was small and a dark navy blue. Hange parked the car, and opened the trunk. She handed Levi his bag and they headed to the door. Hange was standing awfully close behind him which made him nervous. He knocked on the door.

A few moments later, the door opened. A beautiful lady opened the door. She had raven hair, steel blue eyes, and a beautiful smile.

“Levi!” She exclaimed, smiling wide. She hugged him. Levi patted her back, and Hange saw a smile creep on his face. “What a pleasant surprise!”

“Good to see you, mom. I wanted to visit.” They broke away and his mom peered over his shoulder. 

“Who’s this?”

“This is my friend, Hange,” Levi said, introducing Hange. She smiled and put out her hand. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Ackerman.” His mom shook her hand.

“Call me Kuchel,” She insisted. She invited them in. 

“Hange actually drove me today,” Levi began, setting his bags down on the side. “I needed to study so she offered to drive…” He wasn’t sure why he told his mom this information. Maybe he felt he needed an excuse as to why he came with a girl.

“That’s so lovely! Well I’m glad the two of you decided to come down. Uncle Kenny will be stopping by later. I’m sure he’d be happy to see you. Miss Hange, are you staying for dinner?”

Hange blushed, scratching her head. “I’d love to, if that’s okay.”

“Great! Make yourself at home.”

Hange admired his house. It was very cozy and extremely neat. There was a big open living room area when they first walked in, a kitchen and dining room to their left, and other rooms to the right. It smelt of clean laundry. She liked it a lot. There were assorted pictures hung on the wall. She shoved her hands in her pockets as she admired the photos. Kuchel had a photo of Levi hanging, which Hange stared at for the longest. It was a photo of Levi with his mom at an event, most likely high school graduation. The photo was taken outside on a sunny day. He wore a blue cap and gown. Kuchel’s arm was around his shoulder, smiling wide. Levi wore a small smile. She saw another picture, which was of Kuchel and an older man with long hair. Hange suddenly felt a tug at her sleeve. Levi.

“Take your shoes off,” he said. Hange slipped her shoes off and put them on the rack. 

“Levi! Hange!” Kuchel called. “Would you like some tea?” They both agreed. They wandered into the small dining room and sat across from each other. Hange liked how Levi looked that day. He looked comfortable. His grey sweater made his eyes stand out. He almost caught her standing. Kuchel carefully brought over the steeped pot of tea and sat down at the head of the table.

“I boiled some earl grey tea, I hope that’s okay. That’s Levi’s favorite,” Kuchel said, cupping both her hands around the teacup. Levi picked his tea cup up by placing his fingers around the rim, taking a slow sip.

“Hange,” Kuchel said, smiling at the girl. “How do you guys meet?”

Oh great. Here she goes.

“Well, Levi happened to come to the library I work at to work on his project. I was able to help him out… Although I study botanicals, I read a lot so I know a lot about different topics. One of them happens to be drugs. Medications, I mean. So, anyways, he and I started talking and hanging out and whatnot. And here we are,” Hange explained. When she finished, she looked at Levi. He was staring at her. Her eyes lit up again, and Levi couldn’t look away. Doesn’t everyone know they shouldn’t stare into the sun?

“That’s lovely!” Kuchel exclaims. She sips her tea. “Levi usually doesn’t ask for help. But I’m glad you were able to help him. I remember back in elementary school, he would always insist on doing the projects himself. My stubborn boy. He gets that from me, you know. I can be so stubborn sometimes.” She took a pause, and Levi jumped in.

“Mom,” Levi intervened. Kuchel looked at her son. Kuchel could tell she may have been embarrassing him. “I’m gonna go study.” Come with me, Hange, he wanted to add. Hange finished her tea, and stood up. “Thank you for the tea, Kuchel. I’d love to hear more of your stories, but I offered to help Levi study.” Kuchel smiled, squeezing Hange’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, go on ahead.” The two nodded. Levi led her down the hall, and opened a door. It looked like Levi’s bedroom. It was extremely tidy. He also had a desk. It wasn’t too big, but did the job. He had some drawers with some photos on top. He kept the door open.

“You can take the desk chair. I’ll sit on the bed,” Levi concluded. He sat on the bed, pulling his knees up. He took out his drug flash cards.

“Levi, do you have a white board? Or poster board?” Hange asked. 

“Why?”

“You’ll see.” Levi remembered he had an easel in the back of his closet. He stood up to retrieve it. He finally set it up. It was wide, which was perfect. It’s spotless, Hange thought. It’s like he never used it.

“My mom got this for me but I have yet to use it,” Levi said. Did he hear me?

“Okay,” Hange began. “So, we talked about ACE inhibitors and Beta Blockers, right? So, let’s go through the rest and compare them all.” She took out a purple marker, beginning to write on the board. In the center, she wrote “Anti-HTN Meds”. She drew an arrow to the left corner, writing “ACE Inhibitors” and writing all its information. She did the same with Beta Blockers.

“What’s next?” Hange asked, looking at Levi.

“Thiazide diuretics,” Levi sighed. “This is HCTZ. It helps lower blood pressure by removing fluids from the body, resulting in diuresis. Side effects include hypokalemia and hyponatremia, orthostatic hypotension.” Hange wrote as he spoke. He was surprised she can write so fast. 

“Okay! So, it seems that a common theme is orthostatic hypotension, no?” She questioned, not facing him. She grabbed a red marker to write “orthostatic hypotension” and replaced the other one written. As Levi read off multiple classifications of medications, Hange created the web. She made a map that connected the similarities of the medications, while making it organized enough to understand the differences. Levi was impressed for the second time that day. Hange was sincerely helping him conceptualize and comprehend the information. Then, he realized Hange hadn’t sat down since they began studying. 

“Oi, don’t break your back,” Levi said. 

“Haha! I’m fine! I’ve only been standing since around 11 am...” She took her phone out of her pocket and turned it on for the time. “...it’s almost 3 now! Wow! We really pushed through for hours! That’s fantastic!” She smiled wide at him, but Levi could tell she was exhausted from standing.

Levi hopped off his bed. “Lay down,” He ordered. Hange furrowed her brows, but didn’t protest. She sprawled supine on his bed, sighing. “Thanks, Levi,” She exhaled, closing her eyes. His bed was still a bit warm from when he was occupying it. It was lower than her bed at her dorm, but she liked it. 

“Let’s take a break,” Levi decided. He had a small flatscreen TV mounted on the wall in his room. He walked to the TV to grab the remote, and turned it on. He admired Hange for a brief moment as he passed her to sit in the desk chair. She looked tired. He put on a crime documentary. Hange perked up automatically. Her eyes widened with interest.

“Honestly, I’m not surprised you like these,” Levi assumed. She chuckled and replied: “I guess we’re both freaks after all.” It made Hange’s heart happy that they had something in common. She was worried Levi wouldn’t like her since she was so different from him, but maybe she had a chance now. She was so absorbed in the show that she didn’t realize Levi left the room to grab something to eat. Levi greeted his mom.

“Hi, honey,” Kuchel responded. “How’s Hange?”

“She’s fine. I wanted to get us something to eat.”

“Oh! You’re in luck,” Kuchel cheered, opening a cabinet to grab two bowls. “I just heated up some soup for myself. Would you like some? It’s wild rice.”

“Sounds good,” Levi replied. Kuchel filled two bowls. 

“She’s pretty, your friend Hange,” Kuchel said. She wasn’t facing Levi when she spoke. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you two ended up dating. You seem to like her a lot.” Levi felt his face flush bright red.

“Thanks for the food,” He ignored her comment, taking the bowls to his room. He made sure to keep his face out of his mother’s sight. Kuchel giggled softly to herself. She knew he wouldn’t dare to reply to a comment that he knew was true.

He came back to the room with the two bowls. “Here’s lunch,” He said, handing her the bowl. Hange was sitting with her knees to her chest, intently staring at the screen. She looked toward him when he spoke, accepting the bowl in two cupped hands. “Thank you!” She smiled wide. He smiled too. He loved her smile. “When did you get this, anyways?”

“I left the room to get it. I said, ‘Hange, I’m getting us lunch.’ You didn’t hear me?”

Hange chuckled in embarrassment. “I guess I was too absorbed in the show. Sorry.” Levi shook his head lightly and sat down. He attempted to move the chair closer to the bed without her noticing. He was successful. Hange was sitting up on the bed with her legs criss-crossed, bowl in her lap. Levi was cross-legged in the desk chair, which was right next to the bed. Hange didn’t seem to mind or even notice until she had turned to look to her right, and she realized Levi was so close to her. His face was really close. He felt her staring, but couldn’t dare to look back. His heart would’ve exploded. 

“You’re staring is creeping me out, four-eyes,” Levi said, startling Hange.

“Oh, yeah?” Hange chuckled. She suddenly grabbed his chin and turned his head towards hers. His wide eyes were staring into hers now. He felt like his heart was about to explode. “What about now?”

“...Creep,” He murmured. The tone of his voice changed entirely compared to his previous statement. Hange noticed this. His voice was soft and nervous. Levi felt his whole body start to heat up. He felt his heart throbbing in his head. He felt his breath hitch in his throat. He gently placed his hand on her cheek. She accepted his touch. He leaned in hesitantly, closing his eyes. Hange did the same, and finally there was no space between them anymore. Their lips collided.  She kissed his lips softly, as if she was nervous to kiss too hard. Levi had kissed girls before, but it was never like this. Never so emotional. Never so breathtaking. Never so soft or warm or gentle. He never wanted it to end. He was smitten by her. Their lips parted. She wasn’t extremely close after they parted, but she kept her eyes focused on his. Hange felt her heart pulsating in her chest. He looked into her rich hazel eyes again. He swore he fell in love with her in that instant.

[thegirlintheswivelchair]

More Than We Hoped - Ch. 2

Summary: The Daily Bugle drags Spiderman, Tony forces Peter to come up to the compound, and that black haired man packs a punch.

Word count: +6.6k

Warnings: violence, injury, blood, angst...to be honest I think that’s it for this chapter

A/N: OK so I am actually really nervous to put this chapter out. It feels a little different from what I usually do. It felt like the story took on a life of its own, and also...this is all Peter. Y/n is not in this chapter. However, I am gonna have her in the next chapter quite a bit, so hopefully that will make up for it!! Anyways...I hope you enjoy this!

(Oh and this starts off directly after chapter 1!)

series masterlist | main masterlist

——

Still Saturday 

Peter sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone, “Hey, Tony.” 

“Yeah, you’ve already said hello. Got anything else to say?” Tony’s voice deadpanned over the other line. It was sassy, but Peter could tell that he wasn’t necessarily in trouble...yet.

“I just woke up, what else did you want me to say?” Peter said off-handedly. He really wasn’t awake enough to handle where Tony wanted to take this conversation. Plus, he really did not know what was going on.

“I don’t know, you tell me? Why did I wake up this morning to see Spiderman’s name in a trending article from the Daily Bugle?”

“Would you believe me if I said, ‘I don’t know?’” Peter asked.

“Not really, no.” Again, Tony didn’t seem annoyed, but Peter couldn’t help but feel he might be getting a lecture somewhere down the line.

“Honestly, Tony, I haven’t even had time to read the article.” Peter responded evenly.

Tony let out a sigh, “It’s not great, Pete. Whatever you did on patrol last night—they’re spinning it like you lost control, and the guy is in the hospital because of you.”

“What?” Peter said in shock, “Hold on…”

Taking the phone away from his ear, he put Tony on speaker, so he could bring up the article to read.

The same twinge of foreboding that had hit him earlier came back as he read the headline again:

IS HE REALLY OUR FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD SPIDERMAN? Masked Vigilante involved in near lethal apprehension of defenseless substance abuser.

Clicking the article’s link to read more, he was greeted with a photo of his superhero alter ego. The photo showed Spiderman looking like he was being cornered in an alleyway. One of his hands was lifted urging whoever was in front of him to calm down, while the other was gesturing to the heaped form behind him. Anyone looking at it could see it was a body sprawled out on the ground, but the image was such bad quality barely any details were discernible. 

His eyes went quickly to read the beginning of the article:

In the early morning hours last night, distress calls were phoned in by a number of residents of the Bright Valley Apartments. They were alerting authorities of a violent disturbance in the alleyway next to their building between Spiderman and a nondescript man. 

The recorded calls are still not available to the public, but an eyewitness says the man seemed frantic and was lashing out. They said Spiderman struck the man a number of times until the victim was incapacitated. 

When authorities arrived at the scene, Spiderman was still present before webbing his way out of the situation without properly debriefing the authorities that came to the site. It is unclear what the masked vigilante’s intentions were with the victim that has now been identified as Wayne Campbell, who has been known to use drugs. Campbell is now in the hospital with severe internal injuries and is in critical condition.

More was said underneath, but Peter had already seen enough. The feeling of foreboding deepened into a sloshing mess of worry, hurt pride, and a sense of sadness. There was too much misinformation and exploited truths in the first few paragraphs alone for Peter to say it was anything but what it was...

“They-They wrote a slander piece about me…” He said softly, switching the phone back to normal and bringing it up to his ear.

“Looks that way...Sorry, kiddo.” Tony said in a similarly soft tone before continuing, “Know anyone you’ve pissed off lately?”

“No one I can think of,” Peter responded in a sort of mumble after sitting quiet for a moment, thinking.

“Thought you might say that. That’s why I sent Happy to grab you and bring you back to the compound, so we can get to the bottom of this. In the meantime, how about you catch me up on what Spiderman’s been getting up to.”

“What? No—Tony, I can’t just make a trip out to the compound!” Peter exclaimed. 

“Why not?” 

“Because I’ve got...” Peter paused. He felt he was needed here, but with his brain still stuck on the article he didn’t say that. Instead what came out was, “...homework.” He finished, closing his eyes knowing how lame that excuse was.

“Yeah, that hasn’t worked for the last 12 years, not gonna work now.” Tony said matter-of-factly.

Without missing a beat, Peter quipped back, “Technically, I didn’t get to use that excuse for 5 years. So really it’s only been 7.”

“Uncalled for,” Tony said. If they had been in the lab together, Peter could imagine that his mentor would be pointing a wrench at him and raising his eyebrows to emphasize the point that he was hurting the old man. A small smile tugged at the corner of Peter’s mouth at the thought.

“So, you gonna tell me what really happened?” 

The question sobered Peter quickly, making him momentarily forget about going to the compound. He blew air between pursed lips, his cheeks puffing out. “Whatever is happening is so screwed up, Tony…” Peter said quietly.

“It always is.” Tony said this with such sincerity Peter could almost hear the memories coming to life in the retired superheroes head. Tony cleared his throat and spoke up again, “Just start at the beginning.” 

“Yeah, Ok.” Peter breathed out, and he began telling the story of the last 3 nightmarish nights he’d spent patrolling. 

It took 45 minutes before Peter was getting to the details of last night. To his surprise, Tony had let Peter talk without much interruption, only small clarifications here and there and a hum to show he was paying attention.

Once he finally went quiet Tony spoke up, “And you haven’t found any connection between the 3 victims?” 

“Not yet, I haven’t had time—” Peter was cut off by another call coming in. Looking at the contact, he saw it was Happy. He’s seriously making me go to the compound? No questions asked?

Sighing and not hiding his frustration, Peter quickly said “I gotta take this, it’s Happy.” He didn’t wait for a reply before accepting the new call. “Hey, Happy,” he said, adopting a much lighter tone than a second ago.

“Peter, where are you? I’ve been waiting outside for the last 15 minutes.” Happy said in a familiarly gruff greeting.

“Crap, you’re already here? Sorry, Happy. I’ll be right down.” Peter said as he jumped up from his spot on the bed and hung up the phone. He began grabbing at random clothes around the room, hoping they were clean, and throwing them on.

Soon, all that was left for him to do was find his other shoe. Shouldn’t be too hard right? Wrong. He turned over everything. At one point he even stood on the ceiling thinking a new angle would help him—It didn’t. Just as he was starting to get really frustrated, he found it hiding in the corner of his room where he could have sworn he’d looked at least three times before. 

“Ah-ha!” He cheered triumphantly. The victory was short-lived when his phone began to blow up with texts from Happy. Each one getting steadily more grumpy in how they said he needed to get his ass moving and down to the car right now.

So in a chaotic blur of motion, Peter grabbed his lone shoe, his backpack, a granola bar from on top of his mini fridge, and jogged out of his room with only one shoe on.

As he made his way down his hallway, his phone rang for what felt like the thousandth time that morning. He picked it up without looking at the contacts name, and answered, “I know Happy, I’m on my way down right now. Couldn’t find my shoe.”

“See, I keep telling you to put trackers in them, but do you listen?” Came Tony’s amused voice over the other line. 

Even though he had not expected his mentor's voice on the phone, Peter smirked and shot back, “Says the old man that can’t find the wrench that’s still in his hands.”

“That was one time!” Tony’s voice said defensively before changing the subject, “So you haven’t left with Happy yet, I take it?”

“Just getting out to his car.” Peter said, walking into his dorm’s elevator.

“Uh-huh. While, you’re on your way up, try and think through what might be similar to each incident. We’ll use that while going through the info your suit gathered during patrol.”

“Speaking of—Tony, I need to be back by tonight to go patrolling again. I need to be there for the next person that gets affected by this thing.” 

“Yeah, no can do, Underoos.” Tony said. It was said with a casual finality, even off-handed in a way, and it irked Peter for some reason. 

“What do you mean?” He said slightly annoyed as he left the elevator. 

When he neared the door leading outside, he realized he was still not wearing his other shoe having been so distracted by Tony. He put his granola bar in his mouth, and began moving in a way he knew was not even remotely graceful as he tried to keep forward momentum and put his shoe on at the same time.

“There’s too much heat around the situation now, Pete. You need to stay away for awhile.” Tony broke through Peter’s concentration of staying upright as he barreled through the door to the outside.

Once he managed to get the shoe on, Peter paused for a second to take a bite out of his granola bar before moving again. He answered his mentor with a hard tone, “I can’t just drop this, Tony!”

“The media has gotten involved. That automatically makes this trickier. It’s important to tread carefully now.”

“I know I need to be careful,” Peter groaned out, “But I feel really close to a breakthrough! I just need a few more nights of recon. Please—”

“You have any leads?” Tony cut him off before he could keep talking.

Peter faltered before replying. He really didn’t have any leads, and it was clear Tony knew that. He had just hoped that train of thought would work on Tony, and he would be allowed to patrol. “I mean—no, not really.” Peter said quietly, opting for honesty in this moment.

He heard Tony sigh, “We need to be smart. This isn’t a recon-then-action type of mission anymore.”

Peter had made it to the sleek black car that would take him to the compound. Pausing in front of the passenger side, one hand on the door’s handle, Peter started talking, “I know, Tony, but these people—” 

Tony cut him off again, “The answer is still no. We’ll talk more when you get here.” 

The annoyance that had been simmering under Peter’s skin throughout the whole conversation, sparked at that moment. “Fine,” He snapped, and hit the phone’s red ‘End’ button. Opening the car door with a particular amount of aggression, he slid into the seat with a huff. 

Happy immediately began pulling away from the curb as soon as the door shut. A sour silence fell over the two figures, with Peter staying silent and glaring out his window. The other, usually more grumpy, older man glanced at Peter frequently as they made their way upstate. Peter felt the stare each time, knowing the older man was trying to get a read on him as he quietly brooded. 

Over the many years they had been in each other’s lives both had gotten relatively good at reading each other. In this particular situation, it was obvious Peter was frustrated about something, but he knew Happy was trying to piece together what might be annoying him.

“Tony did something again, didn’t he?” Happy’s voice finally broke the silence.

“You could say that,” Peter muttered.

“Whatever he did, I’m sure he has his reasons.” 

Peter had to resist the urge to roll his eyes, Happy didn’t deserve that. “Happy, no offense, but I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ok, fair enough.” Happy conceded easily. The rest of the drive was silent, only the soft sounds of music were heard.

When the car rounded the tree lined bend that led up to the compound, Peter’s emotions did a bit of a dance. He always loved seeing this building. It was a symbol of something so much bigger than himself, even bigger than him as Spiderman. Excitement always sparked in his gut as he thought about what and who it held inside and all the inner workings that even he didn’t fully understand yet. The weight of its purpose was inspiring while also being rightfully intimidating. Peter had yet to shake the feelings of being inadequate when thinking about it all. No matter how much he had wanted it, he couldn’t stop wondering if he was good enough to be an Avenger, of being a part of the moving pieces that title gave him power in, and what it meant to protect the world. He was just your friendly neighborhood Spiderman after all.

Today, though, that wash of emotions was dampened by his frustration over why he was here to begin with. He felt like Tony was calling him here to keep an eye on him. Like he didn’t trust him, and it stung.

After the car pulled up to the giant glass doors of the side entrance, Peter said a hasty goodbye to Happy, got out and slammed the door shut a bit harder than necessary. He bounded up to the door, and stepped into the building.

Almost immediately, Friday, Tony’s AI, greeted him with an even tone “Hello, Peter. Should I let Boss know you are here?”

“Tell him I’ll be down in a sec.” Peter answered, but instead of going directly to the lab, he made his way to the large communal kitchen to make himself a sandwich. 

Friday’s voice came through the silence of the kitched “Boss is asking for you to come down to the lab.” The AI paused then added, “He says to just bring the food with you.”

Peter rolled his eyes, Tony knew him a little too well sometimes. Taking a massive bite his sandwich, he grabbed his plate and started his way down to the lab.

When he turned into the large state of the art lab, he was greeted with a view of Tony’s back. 

Since Thanos, Tony had changed from what he had looked like during his active days as Iron Man. It wasn’t for the worse, he had simply changed, gotten older. His hair had gotten distinctly more salt and peppered, even more than when Peter had been remade after the snap. The wrinkles around his eyes had gotten more prominent, and they highlighted the smile he’d started wearing more often now that he was a father and genius mechanic rather than a superhero holding the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

He also had a prosthetic arm, a constant reminder of the day he saved the galaxy. When you could see it, it was a surprisingly tame color—a dark charcoal grey. “You can wear it with anything,” Tony had joked when asked why it wasn’t bright red. It still held Iron Man’s trademark colors of red and gold in its details, with a bright blue light filling out the crevices or other details that the nanotechnology didn’t cover. The scars from the wound that traced their way across his skin came up his neck and stretched up around his ear and cheek. Anything else around his shoulders and chest was usually covered by a shirt, unless he was in his tank top fixing his cars, or swimming at his house in the woods. 

The biggest difference for Peter though, was the softness that had taken over Tony. He was certainly still the cocky, confident man he’d always been, but he didn’t hold himself that way anymore as a suit of armor. Now that confidence was worn as a person slowly working on their monsters and ever so subtly finding hope in who they actually are. It was a softness that came with years of therapy and walking through it all with good friends and family. Peter was proud of Tony for that, and was grateful he got to be a part of it.

Currently, Tony was in a basic long sleeve black shirt pulled back to his elbows and his usual chop-shop jeans that were filled with grease and other stains. 

With his back to the door, he was surrounded by three different holographic projections. One was the schematics and details of Peter’s Spiderman suit. Another was a news feed scrolling and continuously playing any news that might be relevant to his search, and the last one had numbers, graphs, and other data that Peter quickly realized was the data from his suit. 

The suit, while being his, and even his own design, was still hooked up to the main Stark “cloud” that Tony had created for everything that held Stark technology. That meant Tony could bring up anything he wanted from Peter’s suit. 

At any other time, this would have annoyed Peter, maybe even offended him. The two of them had talked at length about the Baby Monitor protocol, and over the last 4 years had slowly lessened it all so that Peter could be his own person, having complete control over the responsibility he had as a superhero. Tony had promised to no longer check the data or videos on his suit unless Peter let him, or asked him to. For this particular moment, even in Peter’s already frustrated state, he knew there had been an unspoken agreement that Tony would help. That meant he would look into these details. So Peter let it slide, and while taking another enormous bite of his sandwich, he walked up to Tony’s side and asked with a mouthful, “Found anything interesting?”

Tony turned his face towards him with both eyebrows raised quietly asking the parental question of ‘really? while eating?’ to which Peter gave a noncommittal shrug to say ‘yup’. Tony lips twitched with amusement, and he turned back to the projections, answering, “No, not yet. Was waiting for you actually.”

Swallowing the bite, Peter said, “I think we should get Friday working on whether or not the three victims have anything in common with each other. Then you and I can look through the surveillance Karen saved through my mask’s camera and see if there is anything we can see for clues or leads.”

Tony nodded, then said, “You heard him, Fri. Start seeing if there is anything to connect these people together, and please upload the videos from Peter’s suit so we can start watching them.

“What time frame do you want to focus on for the videos?” She responded.

“Let’s see, everything starting from Wednesday at the beginning of my patrol to the end of the last entry on Friday,” said Peter.

Friday didn’t respond. Instead, a new hologram popped up in front of the two men, and the first scenes of the surveillance videos began to play. They silently began to watch together while Peter finished his food. 

Three hours later, the pair were now sitting in chairs, eyes slightly glazed from the amount of random footage they had already gone through. Peter tried not thinking about the fact they were still only on Wednesday night. They had fast forwarded through most of the early evening of that night, until right around when Peter remembered it all started. 

When he heard Karen respond to something he said by saying, “You said never to call a night ‘calm’ because it tempts the universe,” he perked up in his chair and spoke out loud, “This is where my senses started going off before I heard the whimpering.”

The suit’s camera showed the vantage point on top of a building looking down at the still busy street below. “Pause the video,” Peter said. Getting up from his chair, he raised his hands to the image. With an outward wave from both hands he expanded the image to be twice the size it was before, essentially engulfing himself and Tony in the scene.

“My senses went off, but I couldn’t see where it was coming from. It was too hard to tell with so many people staring simply because I had swung overhead, but I know someone was staring for another reason.”

Tony looked at him questioningly, “You know when someone is staring at you for another reason?”

Peter nodded and shrugged, “Yeah, there’s a difference in someone staring innocently, and someone that is staring for another reason. I don’t know why, but I can feel the difference.” 

Tony nodded slowly, and his face briefly flashed a ‘huh, neat’ face before he turned back to the image. “Friday, start scanning the faces and see if there are any that stand out. Let’s start with criminal records or anyone that Spiderman has dealt with directly.”

“Certainly.” Friday responded.

In the meantime, both men were staring at the screen seeing if, on intuition and instinct alone, they could pick anything up. After about 2 minutes, Friday spoke, “There are three different faces detected that have misdemeanor records, none of which are connected to Spiderman for their arrest nor their crime.”

The 3 faces showed up with their records next to them, and it was clear right away that none of them were who they were looking for. One had a public indecency charge, another was a DUI, and the last had the only genuine criminal record for assault, but it was from over 20 years ago.

Peter sighed at the news feeling disappointed, while Tony leaned in. “Friday, run the video and see if anyone stays focused on Peter when we know the whimpering started.”

The time between where the clip started and when the whimpering began was only a few seconds and it was impossible to truly focus on the faces with the way the camera whipped in the direction of the whimpering when Peter had heard it. The audio itself didn’t pick up on the whimper—it being too faint for the microphone—but it was clear enough when Peter had heard it. When nothing could be seen, Tony called for the frames to be slowed down to a shuttering frame by frame pace. 

In the blinking frames that could be seen right before Peter’s head moved, only a few people had remained focused on the superhero. An old man who had been tending to his store front, a child staying planted in awe until his parent tugged him along, and a tall slim man with black hair, suit, and...a silver tie.

“Wait!” Peter blurted, “That guy, right there. I recognize him! I saw him last night.”

“Him?” Tony pointed at the blown up image of the man.

“Yeah, he was coming out of the alleyway right before I went to help the last victim.” 

“Friday, you know what that means.” Tony said to his AI.

The silence lasted for only a moment before Friday was speaking to the room, “His name is Everett Mercury, age 25, born and raised in New York City.”

“Ok, can you tell us anything else about him?”

“Actually, boss, his file and any subsequent information that is regularly available or traceable for the average person is coming up blank. This lack of data would normally suggest all information for Mr. Mercury was wiped clean or is purposefully untraceable in most technological databases.”

“Well, I think that means we found our guy, what do you think, Pete?” Tony said, snapping his fingers together and spinning on his heels to look directly at Peter.

Peter gave a small absentminded nod as he only kind of heard Tony’s question. He was still glaring at the face in front of him, thinking. “Is he anywhere near the second location?” 

Again, the silence filled the room until the AI spoke, “Based on my recognition software, there is no record of him being at the location of the second victim.”

Peter groaned,”Dang it!” all though he used entirely more colorful language in his head.

“That doesn’t mean that wanna-be-young-Keanu-Reeves here isn’t our guy.” Tony said lightly.

“No, but it doesn’t confirm it either. Plus, we don’t know anything about him,” Peter shot back.

“They don’t usually make it that easy for us.”

Peter knew Tony wasn’t trying to goad him. He wasn’t even trying to be condescending, but after the week he’d had, the fear of the unknown and the frustration that was just sitting at the bottom of his stomach mixed and boiled quickly. “No they don’t. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t hoping our first lead might have been a little less vague. What are we supposed to do with this information, Tony?” Peter said heatedly, whirling to face his mentor with a glare.

Tony met his stare with raised eyebrows and a slight cock of the head. “I’m sorry, did I miss something?” He looked into Peter’s eyes for a second, “Are you mad at me?”

“How does this help people, Tony? How does me sitting here with you, finding out this guy's name, in upstate New York, help anyone?” Peter said, not answering the question.

“Pete, this is only just the beginning. We’ve only been here—what? 3 hours?” Tony said, checking his watch.

“Yeah, and by the time I get back someone might already be infected by whatever-the-hell this is and could even be dead!”

Understanding washed over Tony’s features at Peter’s words. “You’re upset I said you couldn’t go patrolling.” It wasn’t a question. He had said it as its own confirmation.

“Have you watched any of these videos, Tony?” Peter said with quiet intensity pointing back at the projected image, “New York needs someone out there protecting them, and right now, no one is.”

Tony remained silent as he looked intently at Peter for a moment, his lips pushed up in thought. When he finally looked away, he gave a heavy sigh, and his hands came up in a loose shrug before he said, “Ok. You want to go out and patrol. Then I won’t stop you.”

“What?” Peter said slightly shocked, “You’re gonna let me go?” He was not expecting that reaction. He thought he would need to put up a fight, argue a bit more. Even then, he didn’t think Tony was going to allow him to go. 

“Yeah. You want to patrol. I won’t stop you.” Tony said lightly.

Peter looked at Tony for a second, hesitating. His brows furrowed as he searched the man’s face. Something about Tony’s reaction bothered him, but he couldn’t think why. Why was that so easy? The thought was momentary, a sparked instinct to push for more information, but as soon as it came, it was swallowed up by the new thoughts of getting back to the city. If he could patrol, maybe he could do better reconnaissance, maybe even find the black haired man himself and question him.

“Uh, right.” Peter breathed out, “Then I’m gonna go.” He turned and started to leave the lab. Right when he got to the door, he looked back and saw Tony had already turned his back on him and was looking at each screen he had pulled up. He had started playing the frame-by-frame video again. His arms were crossed, and it was clear he was thinking and assessing everything he saw. Again, something in the back of Peter’s head told him he should stay, but he pushed it back stubbornly. 

A couple hours later found Peter atop the lone skyscraper on campus. It was a massive clock tower that used to ring every hour with a real bell, but it had since been turned electronic, telling the time silently as it watched the students wander below. On nights when he needed to just think Peter would find himself up here, especially when he couldn’t be bothered making it to his usual favorite perches closer to the center of the city. Tonight, Peter was watching dusk settle over the city, thinking of a game plan for the night’s patrol.

Somehow, the other incidents had happened right where he was, no need to search far and wide. That left Peter with little direction as to where to start, but he still had to get moving. The shadows were growing, and that meant more alleys to hide in and go unnoticed. 

Standing up, he shook himself loose, and flicked out his hand. His two middle fingers came to the base of his palm, tapping his web shooter to life. It responded with a string of web flying over to the next building, and just as Peter stepped off the tower, he spoke to his AI, “Karen, I want you to monitor for raised temperatures, and scan every face you can for Everett Mercury. Let’s make tonight worth it.” 

“Initiating scanning parameters.” Karen confirmed.

As Peter swung, he felt his senses open up and his nerves coil like springs. The anticipation he held for finding another victim was growing, and he hated how afraid he was. It wasn’t just the fear of these people getting hurt. Frankly, that he could deal with. He’s had to deal with it. It was a responsibility of a superhero to deal with the fear of people getting hurt. No, he was afraid of seeing the side effects of this thing again. The glowing eyes, the pulsing veins, the shrill cry that comes with each victim—it was haunting. He was also afraid of holding another person in his arms as they fought whatever it was they were affected by. He didn’t know how many more people he could watch seize and drop into a comatose state. 

He was uneasy, and he felt a little ashamed this thing had dug its claws into him so quickly, but the apprehension he didn’t want was still there all the same. With each flick of his wrist that carried him farther into the city, he tried to think of a way to turn that fear in his favor, but all he came up with was a sour and shaky form of adrenaline. 

Much later into the night, Karen’s voice came out clear in Peter’s ear,“My scans show a man that fits the description of Everett Mercury by the ATM’s on the corner.” 

Peter swung to the nearest rooftop, and upon crouching and turning around to look out at the four-way intersection he felt his senses buzz lightly. That annoying warning was back, and his skin crawled at the feeling. He spoke quietly to his AI, “Where is he?”

Before Karen could answer, Peter’s eyes found a black haired figure in a sharp suit standing motionless at the corner. When Peter found his eyes, he felt his stomach do a flip. The man was staring straight at him, unflinching and unfazed as their eyes met. His eyes were cold and dark, set within a face of stone. Each second felt stretched in time as Peter looked at him. He stood expectantly, like he had known Spiderman would be there, looking for him. As if to confirm the suspicion, a small smirk began to play itself on Mercury’s lips before he broke eye contact, turned and in a few steps, seemed to vanish into thin air.

“What? What was that?” Peter whispered harshly as he stared wide eyed at nothing, “no no no no!” 

In a panic, he shot out a web, and launched himself down to the other side of the intersection. As he landed lightly on his feet where Mercury had been standing, he looked in all directions only to catch a glimpse of the dark suited figure slipping down a darkened road at the end of the street. Peter sprinted in that direction, and when he turned the corner he was met with more empty space. 

What the hell?!

Scanning the area, Peter saw that he had run into a large empty courtyard. It was rundown, with pipes coming out haphazardly from the walls, concrete benches spotted the outskirts of the central space where the ground had broken and the cracks were growing grass and weeds. It was lit by a solitary orange street light that shone weakly at the entrance making shadows fall over the far side and its corners turn black. 

As Peter squinted in the direction of those shadows, he saw a flash of movement in the corner of his eye. Flicking a web in the direction of the movement, he knew he had caught nothing as it hit a pipe with a hard hollow sound. 

He jerked his head in the direction of the movement, and felt his body crouch instinctively, muscles tightening, ready to launch into motion. 

Another glimpse of movement, and another web that hit nothing. 

“I know you're in here!” Peter spoke out into the courtyard. Still crouched with fists clenched, he felt his heart hammering in his chest, and adrenaline coursing through his body.

Peter tried to hone in on his spidey senses hoping to locate the man that way. He felt the familiar buzzing at the back of his head, but the warning felt like it was coming from more than one direction. There was nowhere that didn’t feel threatening, and his mind began to go fuzzy the longer he tried to focus on it. It was like white noise slowly getting louder as the threat started to close in like walls.

In the fog taking over his brain, Peter didn’t notice the air shimmering a few feet in front of him until Everett Mercury had materialized in front of him. The man stood towering over Peter’s crouched figure, a smirk still on his face. 

As quickly as he had appeared, his body crouched and shot out a hand which connected with Peter’s sternum and sent him flying into the wall behind him. After the hit landed, he vanished into the darkness again.

A voice, low and smooth came from the dark, “I’m not the one you should be focusing on, Spiderman.”

The impact had knocked the wind from Peter’s lungs, and he slipped to the ground on all fours coughing. He tried to right his breathing quickly as he scrambled up and got into a ready stance again, saying breathily, “Oh, yeah? And your cloak and dagger thing is what, a party trick? Doesn’t exactly convince me you’re a good guy.”

Peter didn’t get an answer. Mercury appeared at his side and shoved him hard enough to make Peter stumble towards the center of the open space. Peter tried to correct his balance and figure out where his opponent might be coming from, but there was nothing but mental static.

“It’s not about me being good or bad. I just follow orders. You on the other hand...What are you doing to save all those helpless people?” The disembodied voice spoke casually. It sounded like it was circling the perimeter of the yard. “You’re wasting time, Spidey.” 

Peter knew he was being baited, but that didn’t stop a spark of fear and anger to go through him at the thought of more victims. Fuck, please be bluffing.

“Why are you doing this?” Peter growled, trying to stay focused on the task at hand.

“Why am I doing this?” The voice answered, amusement laced its deep tone, “I’m not doing anything. They seek us out.”

With the white noise still muffling his senses, Peter didn’t notice Mercury come up behind him until he was whispering in his ear, “They ask for it.”

Peter whirled around to see Mercury standing right in front of him. With a knee-jerk reaction, Peter shot out his fist, but he hit nothing as Mercury smoothly ducked out of the way. Peter pivoted to counter the dodge, but the dark haired man’s eyes flashed with an intensity that charged the air. It felt like the split second between when a fuse runs its course and the firework finally erupts. Except, Peter wasn’t ready for the explosion. 

Mercury lunged forward, and swung his fists at Peter. First a straight cross, then an upper cut, then another jab. Mercury’s fists were flying, and each hit was made with a trained precision. The ferocity of the attack caught Peter off guard, and each blow was thrown with such brutal speed and power that he felt defenseless against them as they slowly pushed him backwards towards the wall.

Finally, a particularly harsh punch came and hit his face. Peter’s body gave him no choice but to drop to the ground dazed. He felt warm blood flow from his nose, and in the back of his head he guessed his nose might have been broken. 

The other man, barely breathing heavy, stalked closer to Peter’s hunched figure, and mumbled something under his breath that Peter didn’t catch over the ringing in his ears. Then he picked Peter up by his shoulders and slammed him into a mess of pipes jutting from the wall behind him. A loud crack sounded, and pain radiated through Peter’s ribs as one of them broke on impact. His head rocked back into a lead pipe, and he felt the edge of yet another pipe’s broken opening cut into his skin because of the sheer force he was being pressed into it. Weakly, he tried and failed to squirm out of the other man’s grasp. 

Mercury glared into Peter’s masked face and spoke in a low menacing voice, “You might not believe this, but what’s happening is for the better.” He looked between the two bright white eyes with cold intensity and growled, “Don’t fight this.” 

He let go of Peter, who immediately slumped to the ground, and stepped back. Shadow engulfed Mercury’s figure once more, and he was gone.

Peter sat on the ground, clutching his torso, and trying to breath through the pain that was currently coursing through his body. It had been a while since he had been beaten up this badly, or been so taken by surprise. Why wouldn’t my spidey sense work? His pain addled brain couldn’t think of a reason just yet, and his main priority needed to be getting back to the dorms. 

“Hey Karen, how far are we from campus?” Peter whispered out.

“You are currently 2 miles away.” The AI responded.

“Great,” He said a little high pitched, “I can do that. No problem.”

Shakily, he stood up and raised his arm to shoot out a web. The broken rib screamed in protest, but gritting his teeth against the pain, Peter shot and pulled himself into the air. 

He must have blacked out as he swung back because Peter would not have been able to tell anyone how he managed to make it back to his dorm room that night. All he remembered was waking up on the floor during the very early hours of the day with Ned shaking him awake.

“Pete. Peter! You gotta wake up!” Ned’s voice was full of worry. 

He groaned as his friend continued shaking him. He reached up his hand and swatted clumsily at the arm connected to the hand shaking his shoulder.

“Oh, thank god,” Ned sighed, “Dude, you’re a fucking mess. What the hell did you do tonight?”

Peter couldn’t form coherent thoughts just yet with the pain and disorientation his injuries were causing him, and just mumbled, “Patrol.”

“Yeah, figured that much out myself. I meant what happened to you?”

“Everett Mercury.” Peter said briefly, still trying to stop the spinning in his head.

“Whose that?” Ned asked curiously.

Just then, Peter’s phone began ringing and buzzing on his desk. Ned reached over Peter’s head and handed it to him. The screen’s brightness bit into Peter’s eyes and he flinched while making out the series of texts coming in from Tony.

Tony: We need to talk.

Tony: Mercury is enhanced and highly dangerous.

Tony: Do not engage with him. We need to make a plan

Too late, Tony... Peter thought as he felt each injury pulse in time with his heart.

There’s chapter 2! Please let me know any feedback you might have! I’d love to know if there are things you are hoping to see, or if you have any thoughts about the story in general. All reblogs are so incredibly appreciated! 💙❤️

Taglist (Let me know if you want to be added)

@cocoamoonmalfoy @empath-bunny @storybookholland @kassey @touchmethomas @greenorangevioletgrass @emilyparkerholland​

[13-reasons-ideas]

Can’t Go Back Part 18

A/N: This chapter got away from me a bit. It’s over 6 thousand words so tuck in guys. I hope you like it. And as I’ve said before, any time a character gets sick in this, it’s nothing more than a flu or common bug. Given this is a Before chapter, COVID didn't exist, but just given the situation currently. I feel like it is important to say that. Just a note on temperature. According to Google 52 degrees F is roughly 11 degrees C. 45 degrees F is roughly 6 degrees C. For my fellow non-USians. Feedback is appreciated as always and much love. -Em

Winter formal was upon us. It was only one day out now. Jeff was still on me about going, like he had been for weeks. I still had no intention of going. And as luck would have it, I had just run into the perfect excuse not to go. I woke up Friday morning to my stomach cramping and churning. Oh god this is awful. I feel like I got hit by a truck. Before I even had time to wake up wake up, I rolled over and grabbed my trashcan. My body shook as I coughed. Sitting up, I flung my legs over the side of my bed. My mom knocked on the door. “Addison? Are you alright honey?”

“Yeah Mom. I’m okay. Just not feeling very well.” She opened the door and peeked inside.

“Let me check your temperature.”

“Can I brush my teeth first?” Mum looked around the room cautiously.

“Of course. I’ll be downstairs. Come down whenever you’re ready.” I nodded and held my stomach.

I went downstairs once my teeth were cleaned and I had rinsed my mouth several times. Mum and dad were in the kitchen. I groaned. The smell of coffee brewing was making me queasy. “I already called the school. You’re staying home today.” Mum said, coming to fawn over me. I waved her off.

“Okay. I’ll call Justin and tell him he needs to get himself to school.” I grabbed a pack of saltines and a Gatorade to take upstairs.

“Feel better.” Dad called after me. I heard him say to mum that it probably wasn’t really that bad. “She should still go to school.” Mum didn’t answer. I changed into a different pair of pyjamas and crawled into bed. My crackers and juice were set neatly on the nightstand by my bed. I grabbed the book I was reading last night. As a last-minute decision, I grabbed my trash can and pulled it closer to the bed.

I called Justin after I got comfortable. “Hello?”

“Morning Justy.”

“Morning Addy.”

“I’m sick.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You’ll need to find your own way to school today.”

“I can do that. Are you sure you’re sick? Or are you just trying to get out of going to Formal?”

“I have crackers and Gatorade. I wasn’t even out of bed yet.”

“Oh.” He exclaimed. “Um. Yeah. You stay in bed. And remember to drink water. And dry toast.”

“I will. Can you grab my homework? And tell Jeff Atkins that I’m sorry I won’t get to enjoy the magic of Winter Formal tomorrow.”

“Sure thing. Feel better.”

“Mhmm. Love you.”

“Love you too.” I rolled over in bed and tried to get a little more sleep. It was a useless venture. I spent half an hour tossing and turning. I couldn’t get comfortable. It was too hot with the blankets on. It was too cold with them off. One leg out didn’t feel much better. My head was starting to hurt. My stomach was doing flips and cramping. Frustrated, I threw the covers off and went to the bathroom. The bottle of Tylenol was shoved in the back of the medicine cabinet. I took two of the foil packets and went back to bed.

Briefly, my mind went there. I had a flash of another kind of foil packet. And a flash of a calendar. My eyes widened slightly before I counted. Then I remembered that we hadn’t not used a condom, ever. I had an IUD. We were protected either way for…. I couldn’t think the word. We also hadn’t had sex in a month. And I had gotten my period between then and now. I sighed in relief. That thought did make me realize I hadn’t texted Monty yet. I took my phone again and saw that he had texted me about fifteen minutes ago.  

Morning Addison. I swiped left and his message opened.

Morning Montgomery.

You’re up late this morning.

I’ve actually been up.

Oh? Everything okay?

Yes and no.

??

I’m kind of sick. But it’s nothing to worry about.

You sure?

Yeah. I’m alright. Just need to eat my crackers, drink my juice, and sleep. On the plus side, I can get out of going to the dance without lying to Jeff Atkins.

I can come by tonight if you want.

I’ll think about it.

Okay. A few minutes later he sent me another text. Why do you call him Jeff Atkins and not just Jeff?

I dunno. He calls me Addison Hawthorne. No one else does it. It’s kind of just a thing we do.

Can I call you by your full name?

No.

Not even occasionally?

No.

Why?

Is your name Jeff Atkins?

No?

Then there is your answer.

Fine, fine. Feel better, okay?

I’ll try.

I’ll text you later baby.

Mmkay. The Tylenol I took was starting to kick in and my eyelids were getting heavy. Before I could drop it, I put my phone on the nightstand. I woke up again around noon. My stomach was feeling a little better, so I sat up and ate a few crackers slowly. The medicine had worn off by now. I grabbed my phone and scrolled through my missed notifications for a bit. Nothing too interesting had happened. I sighed heavily and tossed my phone to the side of my bed.

My book was more interesting than I expected it to be, and soon enough I was almost done. The tri-tone buzz of my phone distracted me. I rested the book in my lap and grumbled to myself. “Who’s texting me now?” It was Jeff Atkins.

Hey Addison Hawthore. Justin tells me you’re sick. I hope you aren’t trying to just avoid the dance.

Jeff Atkins. I would NEVER. I am definitely sick. Doesn’t seem like anything major though. Probably be at school Monday. I trust you will give me a very thorough report on all things Clay Jensen and Hannah Baker?

Glad to hear. Leah says feel better by the way. I’ll find you.

Tell her thank you. Now. I don’t want to be rude, but I’m almost done my book.

See you Monday Addison. I didn’t answer him. I texted Monty instead.

Don’t worry about coming over tonight. I should be fine by Sunday. I’ll see you Monday.

Sounds good.

The rest of the day I lounged in bed. My mum came in to check on me when she got home. Saturday was much of the same as Friday. I stayed in bed. I read another book. I slept. My illness was doing better. Not well enough to go to the dance, but I could handle toast which was a good sign. Justin called me while he was getting ready at Bryce’s.

“Hey Justin, what’s up?”

“Getting ready with Bryce and the guys.” I could hear the boys roughhousing in the background and Justin’s voice seemed far away. He must have had me on speaker.

“Hi boys.”

“Hey.” They called back.

“You stuck me with him tonight.”

“I’m sick Bryce. I would not be very much fun or help at the dance tonight.”

“You say you’re sick.” Bryce kidded back. He must be in a good mood.

“Would you like me to describe to you in detail what I spent my day doing yesterday?”

“Not really.”

“Didn’t think so. Now boys.”

“Yeah Addy?” Justin asked.

“I need all of your attention.”

“We’re listening.” Zach laughed.

“Oh no. Is she going to give us the lecture?”

“What lecture?” Anders asked.

“Yes. She is.” I said. “Please try to keep the shenanigans to a minimum.”

“But they’re fun.” Justin complained.

“So is not getting arrested. Do not add to the population. Remember that is often a permanent commitment.  However, I do support the right to choose. Do not fight anyone tonight. And please, for the love of God, if you are going to drink, do not spike the punch bowl. Do not be that guy. And don’t be messy drunk. I want to hear no stories about messy drunk athletes come Monday. And another thing, do not drink and drive. If you need a ride, my mum is perfectly happy to go get you and take you home.”

“She took the fun out of a dance in two minutes.” Someone grumbled.

“That was not me taking the fun out. I’m more than okay with some shenanigans. I encourage some. Please have fun for me. I just don’t want you getting anyone pregnant. You’re all old enough to go to the drugstore or the corner store and buy yourselves some damn condoms. If I can go do it, so can you. As for the drinking and driving thing, a DUI is bad. Especially when you’re underage. My mum likes Justin. So she will gladly give someone a ride if they need.”

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Back up. You have condoms?” Bryce asked.

“I’m not the Virgin Mary.”

“Who could you possibly be having sex with?”

“None of your business. And I swear Bryce if you say Justin.” I laughed. I may have said too much.

“You’ll what?”

“She won’t anything. I will.” Justin laughed.

“Oh! One more thing. Don’t screw up Clay’s night.”

“Fine. We won’t. Gotta go, bye.” Bryce said. I could hear him grumbling before Justin hung up. “Wonder how far she’ll go with Jensen, hey Justy?” I rolled my eyes. How can he go from fun and not horrible to a disgusting pig in thirty seconds flat?

By Monday, I was back to feeling like myself. I grabbed a soft cream sweater from my closet and paired it with a floral skirt. A worn in pair of black combat boots and silver studs rounded out the look. I left my hair down to let it air dry without a weird kink in it. Bounding down the stairs, I smiled brightly at my parents. “Morning mum. Morning dad.”

“Morning sweetie.” My mum laughed brightly. My dad looked at me strangely.

“You’re awfully happy this morning.” My smile faltered slightly.

“Well, I’m not physically sick today. I think that warrants being happy. And it’s the last few days before winter break.” There was a voice in the back of my head I tried to ignore. I was happy. I plastered on a smile and grabbed a packet of oatmeal. Silently, I warmed my milk and stirred my breakfast. My parents were going over their schedules for the day. It was just about grade deadline for mum, so she had a stack of tests and papers in her office. Dad was already prepping for tax season in a couple of months. The office at work was stacked too, I’m sure.

“I’m going to take this to school.” I mumbled.

At school, I grabbed my cup of oatmeal to eat before class. “Peaches and cream. Interesting.”

“Jesus.” I gasped. “Morning Monty.”

“Morning Addy.” I began walking to my locker. He fell into step beside me.

“Did you need something?” I was sure people were watching us.

“No. Just wanted to say hi.”

“Okay? You know we are at school, right?”

“Yes. We have chemistry together. Is it really so bad to walk to your locker together?”

“I don’t know Monty.”

“For all anyone knows, I’m looking for Bryce. Who will probably be with Justin. Who will be at your locker.”

“I guess.” I sighed. I handed him my cup of oatmeal. “If you’re going to follow me to my locker, hold this while I get my spoon.” Pulling my bag around me, I took the spoon from the front pocket. Monty handed back my breakfast for me to eat while we walked.

“Peaches and cream oatmeal.” He muttered.

“Huh?”

“Nothing. Just making a mental note.” He smirked. I could see the smile behind his eyes though.

“It was on sale. It was this or plain and plain oatmeal is….”

“Plain.”

“Exactly.”

We made it to my locker, where it just so happened that Justin was waiting for me. With my least favorite white boy in tow. “Hey Justin. Walker.”

“Addy.” Bryce nodded.

“Feeling better?”

“Much. What did I miss Friday?”

“Not a whole lot.” Justin shrugged.

“A better question would be what did we miss?” Bryce asked, looking between Monty and I.

“I was on my way in when I saw her pull in. Figured I’d stop and tell her about what she missed in chem.”

“Which apparently wasn’t much.” I shrugged, scraping the last of my breakfast up. “I need to go to class. I expect a full report on what I missed at the dance at lunch.”

“Jeff will give you one. Don’t worry.” Justin laughed. “You’re awfully invested in Clay and Hannah.”

“I could have been invested in you and Hannah. But….” I looked at Bryce briefly. “Here we are.”

“I don’t think she put out for him, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Monty added.

“Gross.”

“Don’t think he would even know how.” Bryce laughed.

“And I’m leaving. Be nice boys.”

My classes were abuzz with talk of the Winter Formal. Mostly talking about what so and so wore, or who such and such was dancing with, or that one song Tony played that went like this or that. Clearly, I hadn’t missed much. Apparently, Jessica had had one or four too many nips off Bryce’s flask. I rolled my eyes internally. I mean, at least the boys weren’t messy. By the time lunch came, I was excited to hear about anything that wasn’t the dance. I knew, of course, that wouldn’t be the case. But still.

Sliding into my usual seat next to Justin, I placed my head on the table. “What’s eating you?” Scott asked.

“Nothing. I’m just bored of hearing about the dance.”

“It wasn’t that bad. And you haven’t heard Jeff’s retelling of Clay Jensen and Hannah Baker’s dance.”

“I want to hear about that. And then nothing else.” He nodded in understanding.

“Seriously though, are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Just had a long weekend is all. Guess it knocked more out of me than I thought.” I heard him hum. Jeff laughed jovially as he sat down. How can one man be so damn happy all the time?

“You missed quite the dance on Saturday, Addison.”

“It seems that way. Though, anything would be better than what I spent the weekend doing.”

“Fair. You’re feeling better?”

“Yeah. Just tired now.”

“I bet. Now. About the dance. More specifically, Clay and Hannah at the dance.”

“Yes. And then no more dance talk please.”

“Okay. So, Clay was being a wallflower.”

“As usual.”

“Yes. But he was sitting on the bleachers across the gym from Hannah. And he waved and nodded at her. When I told him to go, he was all ‘I can’t dance’ and so I was like ‘no one can dance. It’s a dance.’”

“Of course. No one likes the ones who can dance.”

“That’s what I said! He was awkward as hell and then they were cute. Danced around like idiots. Had the best time. Leah thought it was fantastic. I was waiting for the slow song that was coming. Or I hoped it was. And then it did. They were awkward again.”

“Right.” I adjusted my position and leaned in to listen to him better.

“Hey gu-.” Justin said, sitting down.

“Shh.” Charlie cut him off. “Jeff is telling a story.”

“They almost kissed.”

“Almost?”

“But then Jess….”

“Ah, this part of the story I know. She was messy. And Hannah cleaned it up.”

“Yes. But that was the dance. Good time.”

“I’m sorry I missed it.” The boys around me spent the rest of lunch having their own conversations. Or giving me their own rundown of the dance. I tuned most of that out. It was hard to pretend not to notice the small glances Monty was sending my way. I sent a few his way too.

Christmas break, finals, and January flew by. Before any of us knew it, it was February. Valentine’s Day was fast approaching. Which, if you didn’t know from looking at the calendar, you certainly knew by the annual Oh My Dollar Valentines posters. There were little heart shaped boxes of chocolate at all the stores in town. The price of roses soared exponentially. I rolled my eyes as I passed one the first day of February. Justin tried to get me to buy one that day.

“No. I’m not interested in paying for cheer camp.”

“You’re always on my ass about school spirit.”

“Yeah. Because like it or not, you and your friends run this school. School spirit is not paying for the wonderful cause of sending the squad to cheer camp.”

“Fine.” He grinned mischievously at me. I watched him reach into his pocket as we passed one of the many tables lining the halls. “Two Dollar Valentines please.” My eyes widened.

“Justin. No.”

“Oh but it’ll be fun.” He laughed.

“I don’t care.” I couldn’t help but smile. He held it out to me, but I shook my head. “No way.”

“Suit yourself. I know you well enough to fill it out for you anyways.” Justin grinned and stuck his tongue out at me. You little shit. I reached out to grab the paper from him. I was going to return it. He held it above his head. I tried to grab it again and he waved his arm around.

“Give it to me.” I laughed.

“Nope. Get taller and maybe I’ll consider it.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Well then I guess you won’t be getting the survey.” I huffed at him. He lowered his arms and I tried to take it again. He pushed my hand away and took off running. “It’ll be an exciting surprise.” Justin yelled as he ran.

“Justin Foley!” I yelled back. I love that boy. But sometimes I just want to…. Oh. What am I going to tell Monty?I sighed and turned around, intending to cut Justin off at his first class and steal the stupid survey from him. When I turned however, I collided with someone.

“We should really stop running into each other like this. People might think we are together or something.” Monty said.

“Or they’ll think you have a thing for me. Since you seem to be the one who always approaches me.”

“That is definitely a possibility.” He handed me my keys. “Might need these later. Wouldn’t want someone finding them and trying to use them.” He started to walk away backwards. I followed after him.

“I highly doubt someone would try to steal an ’09 Camry.”

“Never know.”

“Besides. It’s Evergreen County. Nothing ever happens here.”

“True. I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Yeah. I need to have some words with Justin Foley.”

“Uh oh. Trouble in paradise?”

“Maybe.” I rose a brow. Monty gave me a funny look. “I’ll explain later.”

At lunch I stopped Justin in the hall on the way to the cafeteria. Pulling him into an empty classroom, I locked the door. “I need that survey back Justin.”

“Why?”

“Because I have no interest in going on a valentines date with someone. You know I hate Valentine’s Day.”

“It could be fun.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Well, you have thirteen days to change your mind.”

“What do you mean?”

“I submitted it on the way to second period.” I blinked at him. Did he just say…?

“You what?”

“I submitted it already. You’ll be receiving a list of ‘promising matches’ on Valentine’s Day.” Oh no. Throwing my head back, I sighed very heavily.

“I hate you.” I groaned.

“I love you too Addy.” Justin brushed past me to leave. “I’ll save you a seat?”

“Nope. That’s okay. I need a break from the testosterone today.”

“Okay.” As soon as he was gone, I texted Monty.

Hey. I need to talk to you. Can you meet me in the library?

Yeah. Bring a book?

Please. My locker was on the way, so I grabbed my books for the rest of the day.

There was a table free in the back of the room. I snagged it so Montgomery and I could have some privacy. He found me a little while later. I was pretending to be taking notes. In actuality, I was doodling and trying not to think about his reaction to Justin’s little stunt. Or reactions. “What’s going on?” He asked as he sat down.

“Hi to you too.”

“Sorry. Hi. What’s going on?”

“So don’t freak out.”

“Don’t start with don’t freak out and I won’t freak out.”

“Justin uh,” I paused.

“Justin? What?”

“Justin filled out and submitted a Dollar Valentine for me.” I quickly added, “I didn’t ask him to. He just bought it and did it. I was going to get it back from him at lunch, but he submitted it on his way to second.” I looked up. Monty was staring at me. And he was… what is he doing? And then his lip twitched. He was trying not to laugh. “What?”

“That’s what this is about? That is what was so urgent?”

“Yes?”

“The fact that Justin Foley filled out a Dollar Valentine for you?”

“Yes?” I was extremely confused.

“Addison. I really don’t care if he filled out a stupid survey for you. Are you going to go on the date?”

“Of course not!”

“Then I don’t give a shit.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s good.” I was still a little hesitant to say anything. “Oh. I should probably mention. I hate Valentine’s Day.”

“Really?” He frowned in confusion.

“Yes. Is that really so hard to believe?”

“Honestly? Yes.”

“Why?”

“You’re a romantic.”

“I know. Which is why I hate Valentine’s Day. It’s the least romantic holiday. If you want to do something nice for me, or get me flowers, show me that you like me, do it on a random day. Not when you have to because it’s a Hallmark holiday.” I was careful not to say the word love. It may have been five months, which is a long time in high school, but we weren’t there yet.

“So, you’re a romantic who hates Valentine’s Day. Okay. Coffee date though?”

“Sure. But not because of what day it is.”

“No. Of course not.” Monty winked at me and then got up to leave. “Come find me after school.” I nodded.

“I’m going to stay here and make Justin sweat a little.”

The next couple of weeks passed slowly. I had forgiven Justin for filling out a Valentine for me a couple of days after he submitted it. After school on the thirteenth, I ran to Walplex to get ingredients for macarons. I browsed the aisles in search of almond flour and raspberry flavouring. Before I left the lot, I texted Monty. Turns out you’re worth it after all. He was busy with practice. I didn’t expect an answer any time soon.

At home, I unloaded my ingredients and put the carton of egg whites in a bowl of lukewarm water to come to room temperature without overheating them. “Hey Siri. Play State Champs on Spotify.”

“Playing State Champs.” I sang along quietly while I went about making my macarons. I said very kind and loving things to the batter aloud. In my head, I was swearing at them with words that would make a sailor blush. He really is worth it.

Dad came home while I was piping the batter onto the Silpat.

“Hi.”

“Hi. What are you doing?”

“Making macarons for my friends.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow.” I shrugged. Dad scoffed and shook his head. “What?”

“Nothing.” He snapped. My face didn’t react. Inside, I felt the familiar sensation of becoming smaller and my insides closing in on themselves. Just ignore him. It’s okay. You’re okay.

“Okay.” I replied meekly. Instead of responding, he went and shut himself in the office. I sighed softly to myself and started on my macaron filling while the cookie batter sat on the tray.

Once my cookies were baked and cooled after dinner, I began to fill them. I picked a Wilton number 18 tip, a small star, and piped chocolate ganache around a raspberry on half of the cookies. When they were all filled, I topped each one. Then I carefully placed them in a container and grabbed several napkins. I also put five each in two disposable aluminum containers. One for Justin. And one for Montgomery. “They won’t notice if one is missing.” I muttered to myself. I took a bite, and it was perfect. Not hollow. Still had a chew to it. The outside was crisp. The slightly bittersweet filling complemented the sweetness of the cookie Perfect. I moaned softly. Setting the containers in the fridge so they didn’t melt overnight, I went upstairs to take a shower and get ready for bed.

The next morning it was Valentine’s Day. As much as I hated the holiday, I wasn’t opposed to dressing up. I dug around my closet for something to wear. I had a red circle skirt in mind. I just needed to find something to wear with it. “Hey Siri, what’s the weather today?”

“It’s currently cloudy and forty-five degrees. The high is expected to be fifty-two degrees and the low will be forty-five degrees.”

“Thank you.” Only fifty-two. I can wear a sweater. I pulled out a couple. The red cable knit was too match-y. The plain black was too plain. My last option was a black sweater with white hearts. This is nice. Shrugging it on, I pulled on a pair of black tights to cover my legs. Topping off the look with my favourite diamond studs and a simple charm bracelet, I checked the clock. I had time to paint my nails.

Soon, I was ready for school. I redid my nails in a nice nude shade. Knowing I was going on a date today, I went quite neutral on the makeup. I wanted my skirt and top to be the focus of my look. My parents were putting their breakfast away when I went downstairs. “Morning guys.”

“Morning sweetie.” We exchanged pleasantries with each other. “You look lovely Addison.”

“Thanks Mum. May not like today, but it’s an excuse to wear this sweater.”

“Very true.” She kissed my cheek gently, so her lipstick didn’t transfer.

“Why are there three containers in the fridge Addison?” Oh crap. Uh….

“Because one is for Justin, one is for my friends to share, and the other one is for me when my friends inevitably leave me with none.”

“I see.” He didn’t sound convinced. Or interested for that matter. When does he ever sound interested? He called after me as I was leaving. “Remember your mother and I are going out tonight for dinner and date night.”

“I know.” I smiled at him. “You kids have fun. I’ll see you in the morning.” I smiled brighter when he dipped my mom and kissed her. Gross but so cute.

“I love you, Margot.”

“I love you too, Brooks.” My mom replied.

My friends were waiting at my locker when I got there. “Hey guys. What’s going on?”

“Justin said you were bringing macarons to school.” Charlie grinned.

“Ah yes. You’re here for snacks. Of course. Hey Clay.”

“Hey Addy.” I shooed the boys away from my locker so I could put my bag in and take out the large container.

“These are for sharing.”

“We know. We can share.” Bryce nodded. Sure, you can. I rolled my eyes playfully. Then I set about passing each of the plethora of boys gathered around my locker a napkin. And then I gave them one macaron each. Jeff got two so he had one to give to Leah.

“Why does he get two?” Luke complained.

“Because he has a girlfriend. And I like her. Do any of you have girlfriends I like?” My eyes shifted to Monty minutely. He smirked softly and quirked a brow quickly. No one seemed to notice. “No? Then you get one for now. You can have more at lunch.” The bell rang. The boys began to disperse to their respective classes. I grabbed Justin and gave him his container.

“You’re the best.” He grinned and kissed my temple when he pulled me in for a hug.

“So are you. Now go get educated.” I texted Monty as I walked to class. I’ll give you yours after school.

I think I like being worth it. This is delicious. Why don’t you make these all the time?

Make them with me sometime. You’ll see.

On my way to lunch, I stopped to pick up my Dollar Valentine. “Hey Sheri.”

“Addison! Oh my gosh. When I heard you filled out a survey, I almost didn’t believe it.”

“Justin did it.”

“Oh. At least he knows you. I hope you get better matches than I did.”

“We’ll see.” I waited while she printed out my list. I glanced at it when she handed it to me.

Andrew B.

Cody K.

Daniel R.

Justin F.

Bryce W.

“Oh. My. God.” I laughed.

“What?”

“I matched with Justin. And Bryce Walker. How the hell?”

“Well, Justin knows you best. And he did the survey for you.” Sheri shrugged.

“Okay fair. But Bryce?”

“I don’t have an answer there.” We both laughed and I left to go to the cafeteria to join my friends. While I walked, I called Justin.

“Hey Addy, what’s up?”

“Hey Valentine. Have you picked up your matches yet?”

“I’m just looking at them now. I was just about to call you to see who you matched with.”

“Well, I think you’re my best match.”

“No one else up to your standards?” I was behind him now.

“Nope.” He turned and hung up. “But I have very important plans tonight, so I’ll need a rain check.”

“No problem. Your annual Bones marathon?” Sure.

“You know it. Next season is the last one.”

“Since I can’t take you out tonight, at least let me escort you to lunch.” He held his arm out to me. I grasped it dramatically.

“Such a gentleman.” We laughed hysterically.

Montgomery loved the macarons. We met at Monet’s after school to get coffee to go because it was crowded. Thankfully no one questioned us if they saw us. They were too wrapped up in their own dates to be concerned about us. Our date was wonderful. There was no chocolate in heart shaped boxes. There weren’t any overpriced roses. Just the two of us spending time together privately. Since my parents were out for the foreseeable future, he came back to my place. We hung out for a bit until he had to leave to avoid my parents. All in all, it was a pretty good Valentine’s Day. He found it hysterical that Justin and I were matched for Dollar Valentines.

Spring had sprung in Evergreen in mid-March. By the time April rolled around, flowers were in full bloom again and it was getting warmer and warmer. On a particularly nice Saturday, I woke up in an unusually good mood. I looked out the window and it was sunny, not a cloud in the sky. As I was sitting in bed, I looked around my room. My camera caught my eye on my bookshelf. Maybe today is the day I introduce Monty to my camera. I got ready but didn’t get dressed. It was still early for a Saturday. And I knew Monty was a big fan of sleep.

After an hour or so of putzing around in my room, I decided to call him. “Morning Addy.” He answered. His voice was still thick with sleep. I smiled.

“Good morning sunshine.” I heard him shifting in bed.

“You’re chipper this morning.”

“It’s nice out. It’s finally spring.”

“It is.” He smiled.

“I was wondering if you had plans today?” I eyed my camera.

“No, I don’t think so. What did you have in mind Bookworm?”

“I thought I could introduce you to my other hobby Casanova.”

He gasped dramatically. “You mean to tell me you like things other than books?”

“Yes.” I laughed. “What do you say?”

“I’m in. When and where?”

“The park by the docks? Say, one o’clock?”

“Sure thing.”

“Wear something comfortable.”

“Okay. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Okay. Bye.”

“Bye baby.”

My parents were in the office working. It was ten am on a Saturday. But it was getting close to exam time for my mom, so she was busy. Tax season was ending, so dad was busy. I opened my bedroom door and called into the house. “I’m going out later. I don’t know how long I’ll be out.”

“Okay honey. Have fun.”

“That’s nice.” I sighed and closed my door. After a quick shower I got dressed. I knew I would probably be moving around a lot today, so I picked a pair of leggings and a loose black t-shirt from American Eagle. I really should go get one of these in every colour. They’re the best shirts. I threw a random cardigan on my bed. It was later joined by my wallet and camera.

Sitting down to do my hair and makeup, I decided to just do a quick French braid. It kept the hair out of my face. I contemplated my makeup for a while. I still had plenty of time to spare. Pressing play on my Spotify and it picked up on a random Beartooth song. Artist Radios are always interesting. I hummed and tapped along with the music while I dug through my vanity. I didn’t have an excessive amount of makeup. Maybe I had a little too much lipstick, but it’s my favourite type of makeup. I kept everything but my lipstick fairly light and neutral. My skin was actually nice today so I could just use concealer and set it. With the rest of my makeup done, I dug through my slightly embarrassing amount of lipstick. “I’m feeling bold today. Red?” I asked myself in the mirror. “Red.” I nodded. I was ready to go now. I chucked the tube of lipstick in my wallet.

It was close to lunch so I texted Monty. Did you want me to make a couple of sandwiches or something?

Sure. I went downstairs and dug through the cheese drawer.

I have turkey, ham, and some other white meat. Possibly chicken?

Ham is okay.

Cheddar okay?

Yup. I made our sandwiches. I knew how he liked his sandwiches now. Placing them in the fridge, I ran upstairs for my camera, camera bag, and now my purse. Our lunch was set on top of my wallet. I threw an ice pack in to keep everything cold and food safe. A couple of snacks joined in before I grabbed my keys.

“I’m leaving now. I’ll see you later.” I called.

“Okay.” My parents called together.

At the park, I met Monty over by a tree. He was wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt. No flannel. That took me by surprise. He looked damn good though. I stopped on the way over for a couple of coffees from Starbucks. “Hey Casanova.”

“Hey Bookworm.”

“Lunch now or later?”

“Now is good. I could eat.” I rolled my eyes. “What?”

“You’re always hungry.”

“I’m a growing boy.” He defended.

“If you grow anymore, you’ll give Dempsey a run for his money.”

“Never know. They say boys grow again around nineteen.”

“Oh god. I don’t know if I could handle you getting taller.” He laughed.

“Might have to. Never know.” I looked down to hide my blush. I didn’t read into what he said. He was right. You never knew where you could end up. We talked quietly while we ate. Monty regaled me with stories of the baseball game I “missed” yesterday.

“Sounds like a nail biter.” I smiled.

“You don’t like baseball, do you?”

“No.” I replied quickly.

“That mean you’ll never come to a game?”

“Quite possibly. I will go to as many football games as I can though.”

“Deal. Now. What did you want to show me?”

“This.” I said as a pulled my camera out of the bag.

“Oh?”

“Yes. I told you I like photography.”

“I remember. I’m just surprised it took you this long to show it to me.”

“Good things come to those who wait.”

“Okay. I won’t question you.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not Tyler. I keep my photography to when people know about it and can see it.”

“I kind of figured.” I spent some time showing him my camera. It was the first thing I had spent any big amount of money on. I got it a few years ago. I saved up birthday and Christmas money. I never really got an allowance so that’s what I had to work with. I looked out at the water and stood up. Holding my hand out to my boyfriend, I nodded in the direction of the dock.

“Come on.” Montgomery took my hand and we walked to the railing. I examined the water for a few moments quietly. Then I lifted my camera and started shooting. It was beautiful. “It’s nicer at sunset. But daytime shoots are so fun.” I could feel him watching me. A bird was flying close by, so I snapped a picture. “It’s beautiful.” I said softly.

“Very beautiful.”

We wandered around the park together for a few hours. Occasionally we would stop to sit and just people watch. During one of these stops I noticed Monty had turned to look out over the water. The way the light was hitting his face was perfect. I quickly snapped a photo. I wanted to preserve the peaceful look on his face forever. Lord knows the boy could use some peace. He turned to me when he heard the click of the camera. Luckily it didn’t ruin the shot. He was smiling. I couldn’t help myself. I took a quick scan of the area and kissed him. When we pulled away, he quickly wiped the lipstick off. I laughed and dug around in my purse for a makeup wipe. “Here. Use this.”

“Thanks.” I touched up my lipstick. While I was doing that, he took my camera from my lap and snapped a photo of his own. “I’m not very good at this, so don’t be shocked if it comes out crappy.”

“I’m sure it’s great. Here, let me see.” He handed it back. I scrolled to the photo. It was really nice. “This is great Monty.” He nodded but didn’t say anything. Instead, he threw his arm over my shoulder and pulled me in close to him. I rested my head on his shoulder. Turning the camera around, I snapped a picture of the two of us. It wasn’t exactly a candid, but it was as close as you could get with a selfie. We called it a night around six o’clock. He had to get home for dinner. I had some homework to do. I also wanted to get our photos transferred as soon as possible.

I walked into the house smiling to myself. Today had been a really great day. I felt good. “What the hell is all over your face?” My dad asked. Not a hello. No other acknowledgement.

“What do you mean?” I reached up to touch my face. Is there something on my face?

“You really caked it on today, didn’t you?” Oh. My makeup. I’d forgotten that he didn’t see me before I left.

“I put on a little makeup. I’m trying to use up a red lipstick.” I shrugged. The small feeling had begun to grow again.

“It makes you look like a prostitute.” Wow. That escalated quickly. My good mood vanished. I set my face. I wouldn’t let him see that he had hurt me.

“Thanks Dad. That was my goal today actually.”

“Don’t take that kind of tone with me, young lady.”

“Okay, whatever. Where’s Mum?”

“At the grocery store.”

“Okay. I’ll be upstairs.”

“Take off the paint while you’re up there.” He called after me.

When I reached my room, I closed the door and slid down it. Not wanting him to know I was crying I went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel. I curled up on my bed and sobbed into the towel. I didn’t care that there would be makeup stains on it. My phone buzzed on the floor. Sitting up, I stood to grab it. It was Monty. I want to see those photos baby.

Okay. I’ll send them over when I’m done.

Looking forward to it.

Yeah.

If I forgot to say, you looked pretty today.

Thanks. I wasn’t sure I believed him after what my dad said.

Any other mystery hobbies you want to show me?

Don’t think so.

Not even the art of knitting?

Maybe.

You okay Addy?

Yeah. Just tired.

Okay. I’ll talk to you later then.

Sure. I didn’t answer his next text. It was too much effort to do it now. I just wanted to lay in bed and be sad.

[demaury]

open your heart (and let me know you want me here)

9k / friends to lovers / ao3 link

Here is the thing. When he started making that list, he was never planning on his best friend checking pretty much all the boxes right off the bat. 

or; a childhood friends to lovers au

1- Someone who makes me feel something. Butterflies and fireworks and all that shit.

He’s fifteen when it happens, and as most things it doesn’t look like much of a big deal at first. It’s a Wednesday afternoon, and although it should be a regular one like so many others, there’s something unique in the fact that he’s sitting on the navy-blue carpeted floor of his bedroom, trying to figure out a math problem, while Eliott is humming to himself and scrolling down his phone on his bed. The setting isn’t what makes it all new, and much less Eliott’s presence — he’s actually one of the very few constants of his life, ever since the Demaurys moved across the street about a million years ago.

What makes it all new, scary, a bit foreign, is that it’s the first time they hang out, since he told Eliott he liked boys. Which- Okay, coming out to Eliott was really not the problem, really, it never was. He wasn’t… He wasn’t scared that Eliott would take it the wrong way, you know, he wasn’t scared that all of a sudden Eliott would start looking back at him with disgust, that’s not what it was about. He just… He just didn’t know how to word it out. When would be the right time, and if there would ever be one — but turns out there had been one. About a week ago, he and Eliott had been texting late at night, and when the conversation had drifted onto Lucille, more specifically Eliott’s lifelong crush on her — it’s not quite the truth, but two years feel a lot like two lifetimes when you think about it —, Eliott had jokingly suggested that Lucas should get himself someone too so they could go on double dates, once she finally agrees to acknowledge him.

(He doesn’t know why it’s taking her so long, and if he’s being honest, he’s a bit prejudiced against her because of this exact reason.)

Naturally, because old habits die hard, his first instinct had been to deflect. I’m not 45 yet, double dates sound boring as fuck, he almost wrote back, but at the last second he had erased all the words and went for Pretty sure I wouldn’t need you to make a fool of myself in front of my very hypothetical boyfriend instead. There had been a few agonizing minutes spent staring at the ceiling after that, phone turned screen down onto his mattress, while he nervously chewed onto his bottom lip with his stomach in knots; in the meantime, Eliott had flooded their conversation with offended texts, because ‘oh, so you just think you can keep me away from him??? That’s sweet’, and just like that, Lucas had felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Eliott asks excitedly, jumping in a sitting position so fast it makes the bedsprings creaks loudly, and Lucas hums in response, still frowning at his math problem without bothering to look back. He loves Eliott, he really does, but that boy has about a million things crossing his mind at all times of the day (and night), so he’s long given up on the idea of giving him his undivided attention every single time something like this happens. “What would you want him to look like?”

Lucas’ hands hover over his equation result for a moment as he blankly stares at his page in confusion, but then he throws a look above his shoulder, and he finds Eliott expectantly looking at him. “What? Who?”

“Your hypothetical boyfriend,” Eliott supplies, his smile widening when Lucas huffs and shakes his head.

“Don’t you think I have better things to think about right now?”, he groans, his attention drifting back onto his homework. He feels like he’s been twisting his brain over this for hours, and it’s not like he can possibly ask Eliott anything on the matter, because he may be two years older, when it comes to math he’s about as useless as a glass hammer.

“Better than thinking about the man of your dreams?”, Eliott gasps, and Lucas is about to tell him that this is all becoming extra cheesy for something that has no actual basis whatsoever when he adds: “You can’t find him if you don’t have an idea of what you’re looking for.”

“Because he’s going to suddenly show up, out of nowhere, just because I started picturing… I don’t know, some abs and a vaguely undefined hair color?”, Lucas snorts. He doesn’t make a habit of asking Eliott to be serious, because well, it’s Eliott, he’s got his head in the clouds a fair share of the time, but, like, come on.

But instead of picking his phone back up and moving onto another topic, one that doesn’t require Lucas’ participation at the very least, Eliott lets out an appreciative noise. “So you are picturing something, good start. Abs and… what’s the hair color again?”

Naturally, Lucas ends up smacking Eliott with his textbook — or at least trying to, because despite Eliott professing a lifelong hatred of sports of most, if not all kinds, he’s surprisingly quick and agile like a giant cat —, and, eventually, his idiot best friend agrees to leave it at that. Which would have been terrific, really, if his brain had agreed to do the same.

But later, much later, when it’s already dark outside and Eliott has been gone for hours, he finds himself thinking about it — that stupid, stupid idea. He can’t help but wonder, what if he’s right? What if he never finds anyone because he just doesn’t know what he’s looking for? Eliott has been crushing on Lucille for two years, but Lucas can’t even remember ever crushing on anyone. There’s never been anyone who made his stomach flutter, who made his mind go blank, who made his thoughts swirl around. There’s never been anyone who made his knees go weak, or turned his stomach to mush.

And maybe, as he keeps thinking about all the feelings everyone always talks about that he never got to experience, maybe that’s when he starts making it — maybe a couple of yearning thoughts are already the beginning of a list.

*

9- Someone who gives a shit

“How do they fit?” Eliott shouts from behind the bathroom door, and before Lucas has the time to reply he immediately adds, speech rate quickening like the words are tumbling down from his lips: “Because I’m pretty sure I can find something else.”

Lucas throws a glance at his sad reflection in the mirror, catching sight of the tee-shirt falling down mid-thighs and the shorts reaching below his knees; clearly not his best look, he thinks halfheartedly, flattening a couple of strands sticking up at weird angles at the back of his head. It’s only because he doesn’t want his best friend to take the door down that he ends up unlocking the door and stepping out of the bathroom.

“It’s fine, that will do,” Lucas mumbles, because honestly, he’s already crashing at the Demaurys’, it’s not like he can afford to be picky at the moment.

Eliott is standing in the doorway of his bedroom, and he gives him a sympathetic look — warm and gentle, honey-like in sweetness if not in color. “Good,” he nods, a nice smile stretching out on his lips as he slips into his bedroom.

Lucas follows him, shutting the door behind himself. Eliott vaguely smooths his comforter before climbing onto his bed. “What do you want to watch?”

Lucas twists his mouth a little, and for a moment he feels a bit lost without quite being able to tell why. He’s standing in this room he knows by heart, but still, it feels weird and alien. He uncomfortably rubs an invisible spot on his arm as he tries to process what’s different about it all. They’ve done that hundreds of times, he’s spent some of the best afternoons of his childhood and teenage years in Eliott’s house, in Eliott’s bedroom even, but…

But he’s never done that.

He’s never slammed the door after one too many fights and straight-up imposed himself at the Demaurys’, and judging by Eliott’s demeanor ever since he showed up, soaked wet from the rain outside, he knows he feels it too — it’s weird. It’s different. It’s not the usual excitement floating in the air.

“I don’t really feel like watching anything right now,” he confesses, fiddling with the hem of Eliott’s way-too-long tee-shirt. He’s just tired, he’s heard so much yelling today it’s like his ears are ringing.

“Oh, yeah, no, it’s fine,” Eliott says quickly. He pats the spot next to him until Lucas caves and joins him. “I just thought you might… I don’t know, like a distraction.”

“Being here is enough, don’t worry,” he says, maneuvering himself on the mattress before folding his legs against his chest, and honestly, he wishes that were true, he really does.

Because Eliott is Eliott, and he really doesn’t want his friend to feel bad about him any more than he already does — so Lucas does as he usually tries to do. He tries to shove it all as far down as possible, in the smallest corner of his brain, where it doesn’t hurt as much. He tries not to think about the fact that tomorrow is another day, that eventually he will have to come back home, and how much he doesn’t want that. He tries not to think that Eliott’s tee-shirt feels soft against his skin, and that even if it’s the weirdest sleepover they’ve ever had, even if something feels off, he still feels a thousand times better here than he does at home.

Eliott crosses his legs, and leans forward to reach for a pair of earbuds on his nightstand. “How about some music? You can choose whatever you want.”

Lucas’ eyes travel a few times between Eliott’s eyes and the earbud that is offered to him, and he picks up with a small huff. “Alright, okay.”

Eliott makes a small, content sound, like it makes him genuinely happy to spend the night with his grumpy self, listening to songs that aren’t even remotely close to his personal taste — and maybe Lucas goes along with it. Maybe he’s selfish like that, but this one night, he just gets along with it. He lets soft piano music soothe his mood a bit, slowly lulling him into sleep until his head gets too heavy and he has to drag himself to the guest mattress that has been set up for him like so many times before.

Crossing the street to go back home, that too he’s done a million times, but not often with that weird gut-feeling of walking right into a no man’s land. His dad’s car is nowhere to be seen, and the silence is deafening as he pads through the silent house. He shuffles upstairs to change before school, going about his morning routine with a weird tension lodged between his shoulder blades, his head too full of thoughts, and he’s shoving a biology textbook into his backpack when he sees it. It’s a DVD — Ratatouille. It’s, embarrassingly enough, one of those movies he could watch over and over again without ever tiring of it, and obviously Eliott knows, obviously, because they’ve watched it so many times since they were kids, and who else would have put it in there?

His mouth twists into half a smile when he picks up the DVD, a bright yellow sticky note on the front of the box. Everything is always better on Blu-ray, I promise ✳

*

11- Someone who fucking sticks around and doesn’t leave when things go to shit

A Blu-ray isn’t enough to make it all better, as it turns out, but Lucas surely appreciates Eliott’s gesture for what it is, and all those that follow later, when his family situation goes from bad to worse to terrible. He’s never made a habit of setting a stupid list of resolutions with every new year, but this time, and this time only, he’s resolved to stop thinking about that fucking new year. At best he’s allowing himself to laugh it off. Divorced parents? Funny as hell. Mom in a psychiatric ward? Hilarious. Family house on sale? Hysterical. They’re cruising around the near-empty supermarket, aimlessly going from one aisle to the next as Lucas picks up random stuff to drop them into the cart Eliott is pushing. It’s another Wednesday, it’s lunchtime, and he knows there’s nothing to eat at home, because there’s been no one to go grocery shopping for him.

“So what are you guys planning for tomorrow?”, he asks distractedly.

Just because he’s single doesn’t mean he’s clueless about the ways of those who aren’t — and he knows that tomorrow night is a big deal for Eliott, long before they even take left and stumble onto a sea of sugary pink and velvety red. An aisle has been pushed to the side at the center of the store to clear some more space for Valentine’s Day displays. The racks are filled with chocolates of all kinds and flavors, heart-wearing Teddy Bears, gifts, cards and even plastic flowers, but Eliott doesn’t really seem to pay attention to anything. Which, in itself, isn’t that surprising. He’s been dating Lucille for three months now, ever since they got paired together for some oral presentation at school and that it finally opened her eyes at how wonderful Eliott is, so Lucas doesn’t really expect his best friend to go for the first generic box of chocolates he finds.

“Uh, I don’t know,” Eliott says evasively, following Lucas when he walks past the Valentine’s Day area. “We haven’t talked about it much yet.”

Lucas hums. “It’s your first Valentine’s Day,” he points out distractedly, eyes skimming over various cereal brands, and he ends up reaching for a Crunch box that he drops into the cart, “I’d have expected you to buy balloons and a giant Teddy Bear or something.” Or simply to show up at Lucille’s window with a boombox, he almost adds, but he keeps it in just in time. Eliott doesn’t need any bad idea of that kind. Judging by his musical taste, it’s frankly better for everyone, starting with Lucille’s parents’ neighbors.

He hears Eliott toying with the shopping cart chain. “Luce’s kinda busy. Her parents are on her case with the BAC and all,” he says, and Lucas gives him a look, from his spot at the end of the aisle, that makes Eliott’s eyebrows shoot up innocently. “What?”

“Why are you lying?”, Lucas asks, squinting his eyes a little.

Eliott scoffs, but it comes out wrong — off-key. “I’m not lying.”

He’s definitely lying, Lucas thinks bluntly, and he rolls his eyes to himself. His best friend is so painfully transparent that he should probably be grateful about it, he should probably be happy that he’s able to read him like an open book, but instead he hates that Eliott doesn’t seem to have any clue when it comes down to it — it makes it even more annoying whenever he tries to lie to his face. “You are,” he retorts with a pointed stare. “What’s up? I thought you’d be over the moon or something.”

Eliott squirms behind the cart, his hands awkwardly drumming along the handle. “Oh, no I am, truly,” he says quickly, “I just thought we could… I don’t know, maybe go watch a movie or something. You and I.”

And there we go, Lucas thinks, and it’s like a weight is dropped onto his shoulders, making them slump with an inaudible woosh. There’s a pang inside his chest, and it’s not a big one, it’s not a breath-altering one, not those that make you want to curl into a ball and cry, it’s just the kind of sting that reminds you of a sore spot. A bruise still a little tender, a scar still noticeable.

“Are you asking me out, Demaury?” he snickers, trying to deflect the sudden change in the atmosphere, but he already knows it’s useless because he can’t be the only one going for it — they both have to play the same game, and he already knows Eliott isn’t willing to.

“I just think you might want some company,” Eliott says with a nice smile, and although Lucas loves that smile, he really does, this time it just doesn’t work.

“I’m fine,” he replies briskly, and he pulls sharply at the end of the shopping cart to move it forward. It’s a petty gesture that seems to startle Eliott, and he immediately feels bad about it. “Your girlfriend doesn’t need you to worry about me, she needs you to fuss over her.”

“But I-”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

Eventually Eliott nods, muttering a small ‘right’, and Lucas has to pretend he doesn’t want to rush out of here, lunch be damned. He hates it, he hates when Eliott is like this, and hates even more that it’s because of him. They walk through the store for a few more minutes, mostly in silence, only occasionally making a small comment or two about things they see on their way to the cash registers. Eliott starts filling the reusable shopping bags Lucas retrieves from his backpack while he pays a ridiculous amount of money for his purchases, and then they’re off.

“Hey,” Lucas mumbles pitifully as they reach the bus stop at the end of the parking lot. “I… I’m sorry if I was rude. I really appreciate what you do for me, everything, it’s just… I’m just trying to hold it together.” He looks away, tracing a weird line in the concrete from the tip of his shoe to avoid Eliott’s eyes.

“It’s okay, I shouldn’t be pushy,” Eliott says, and there’s the faint trace of a smile in his voice. He leans down to squeeze the shopping bag he’s holding between his feet. “But I want you to know I’m here, okay? I’m not going anywhere, so whenever you feel like talking… I’m here.”

It takes Lucas a few seconds to look up, and there’s something so soft and gentle into Eliott’s expression that it makes something melt into his chest almost instantly. He finds himself mirroring Eliott’s smile, albeit lamely — not quite as beautiful, not quite as warm, not quite as reassuring. He finds himself thinking about what Eliott just said for a while, as they hop into the bus and make their way home one stop after the other. He's not going to accept his offer for Valentine's Day, because if anyone deserves to be taken care of on that special day, it's Eliott's girlfriend. But still. Maybe, someday, he can manage to find someone who just doesn't leave.

*

15- Someone who feels like home

It’s a long while before he thinks about the list again — he doesn’t even know where it is, but he guesses moving abroad for a semester tends to do that to you. He’s in his second year of uni when he jumps on the Erasmus offer, and between paperwork and packing up and unpacking and settling down and trying to, maybe, eventually, meet some new people to make the next three months of his life somewhat relevant on a human level, he doesn’t have much time to think about whether or not he’s going to meet the man of his dreams at the next street corner, much less whether or not he checks an inordinate amount of criteria.

Frankly, it’s not that big of a deal. Lucas has never been excessively hopeful about it in the first place, so he can’t really say it’s something that requires a lot of self-discipline. Occasionally Eliott brings it up over text or FaceTime, because he’s an idiot like that, and he’s his best friend, so of course he considers it his double duty to bring up that kind of corny, embarrassing prospect.

“I don’t know, he’s kinda cute in a way,” Lucas says one day, roughly two weeks after landing in Oslo, about some guy he’s met at a party. He’s dutifully sent Eliott his Instagram handle for approval, and for the past few minutes they’ve been going through his publications over FaceTime, like they’re back in Lucas’ old bedroom, with Eliott on his bed and Lucas sitting on the floor.

“He looks fifteen,” Eliott replies unhelpfully, snickering a little. “Didn’t know it was a turn-on of yours. Did that one make the cut?”

“Shut up,” Lucas scoffs, and he regrets not being able to send something in Eliott’s face in retaliation. Besides, he looks barely his age himself, it’s not like he’s in a position to comment about someone else’s appearance — something Eliott promptly dismisses as soon as Lucas points it out, because ‘Lucas, don’t expect me to tell you you’re not ridiculously attractive’, and he’s vain enough to take the compliment without arguing.

After that, well, he goes back to not thinking about it.

Final terms are rolling around and he crams for it, and before he can even catch a breath, it’s already the end of the semester and Christmas is right at the corner. He lands back in France three days before Christmas Eve, and of course he crashes at Eliott’s, because he hasn’t spoken to his father in nearly four months and a half, so it’s not like he even has options to choose from — but he has to admit, it feels nice, knowing he’s going somewhere he’s wanted. Eliott has been buzzing over it for weeks now, making plans for movie nights and places to go and people to see, so much that Lucas almost forgot to be sad about leaving Oslo.

“I’m so fucking happy to have you back,” Eliott says excitedly, voice a little too loud in the narrow stairwell leading up to his third-floor one-bedroom flat, and he’s so eager that he ends up bumping Lucas’ suitcase a couple of times between the stairs, the wall and the banister.

“Jeez, calm down,” Lucas huffs, “the whole neighborhood doesn’t have to know I’m here, thanks.”

Eliott opens the door of his flat with a nudge from his shoulder, not looking even remotely sorry. “Well, that’s just the beginning if we get a place together,” he singsongs, and Lucas shakes his head a little — but deep down, he loves it. His cheeks are hurting from smiling, and he feels his shoulders relax instantly as soon as he crosses the threshold. Nothing has changed since he left last summer. Not that he expected it to, but it’s always nice. In the small, cramped living room, Eliott has already prepared a pillow and a comforter, carefully folded to the side of the couch, and it’s not even that late (not even 10), and the flight wasn’t even long (not even three hours), but Lucas already feels very compelled into dropping himself there and wrapping himself into the blanket — so he does just that. He quickly nibbles on a leftover sandwich he bought at the airport in Oslo, while Eliott excitedly rambles about some renting options he’s seen here and there, and then he quickly sets up his bed.

His best friend is sweet enough not to make fun of him for it, and when he flips off the light on his way out of the living room with a cheerful ‘sweet dreams’, Lucas doesn’t think, for one second, he can love him more than that.

*

“How about this?” Eliott grins triumphantly as he turns the lion plushie he had growing up in his direction. Lucas isn’t sure, but he thinks it might have been supposed to look like Simba, before he proceeded to drag it everywhere with him until the color irrevocably turned a dirty mix of greenish-yellow and grey. “Don’t you miss him?”

Lucas huffs, shaking his head, and he turns back to busy himself with a heavy storage box filled with what looks like bedsheets and drapes of various kinds. “I’m way past needing plushies, thanks,” he snorts, reaching for the plastic lid of the box to replace it in its dusty corner.

They’ve been here for about twenty minutes, in the storage unit where most of his and his mom’s stuff are neatly piled up in, and although he initially thought that this would be easy, because ‘C’mon, it’s just a storage unit, it’s not Versailles in there’, turns out there are lots and lots of things to search through. He doesn’t regret bringing Eliott along, to be honest; it takes at least two to make their way around all the stuff, and at least Eliott can reach the upper shelves. At first they had started renting the unit to store his mom’s things away after the divorce, but when Lucas moved to Norway, he couldn’t afford to pay both the student lodging and rent at his old flatshare simultaneously, so he was forced to give up his spot over there and to store his things here in the meantime.

“Have you no heart?” Eliott gasps, and when Lucas turns back, he’s pouting as he gives the plushie a sad look. “We’re definitely watching Toy Story tonight.”

Lucas rolls his eyes fondly with a scoff, and eventually, after another moment of staring, Eliott agrees to put the lion back into whatever cardboard or plastic box he found it and to move the fuck on. In the meantime, Lucas moves over to another stash of smaller plastic boxes, still looking for the clothes he left behind before Oslo, but it’s not long before Eliott makes another sound, that has Lucas’ head whipping around.

“Hey, remember this game?” he asks, grinning as he waves a version of Risk. “God I miss that old peasant woman who told us off whenever we would be beating up people.”

“Dark Eliott was really a formative experience, but don’t ever end up on the wrong side of the tracks, thanks,” Lucas snickers in his corner, taking the lid off one of the boxes before he starts rummaging through its content. There’s a bit of everything in there, from old assignments to a snapback, pictures, a couple of textbooks, and as he keeps digging through it all, Eliott huffs something he doesn’t quite catch.

It’s during that overall quiet and regular afternoon that the list makes its comeback into Lucas’ life, after months of barely giving it a thought, and maybe at least a year of not adding another entry; it slips out from an old Annabac textbook when he picks it up from the box. The fold is a little wrong and the corner slightly crumpled, and for a second he contemplates just shoving it back at the bottom box, because he’s really not in the mood to entertain that kind of ridiculously hopeful thoughts for a better future or whatever, but in the end there’s a weird kind of curiosity that pushes him to open it.

Just a quick look, he thinks, discreetly peering above his shoulder to find Eliott busy in the opposite corner. The list has a total of 54 entries, ranking from thoughtful to shallow to frankly depressing at times. A wry smile shows up on his lips at entry #4: he gotta be tall because I’m not spending my life climbing ladders to change light bulbs. Or even better, the entry #9: someone who makes me laugh so hard I cry — it has something terribly soft to it, almost… pure.

The entry #29 is entirely Eliott’s fault, he knows it right off the bat: not too many tattoos thanks. It’s crossed, because shortly afterwards Eliott got his first tattoo for some obscure reason, and despite Lucas’ adamant protests, his best friend insisted that he accompanied him to the parlor for the big day — and then he got another tattoo, and another, and after some time Lucas was forced to realize that… okay maybe tattoos were okay.  

The rest of the entries are sometimes awfully precise (#34 ‘light eyes????? Fuck yes?????’ and #41 ‘abs. abs. abs.’), or completely vague (#29 Fucking consistent). And then there’s entry #50. One of the last entries, that he probably wrote towards the end of high school or during his first year of uni, during a lonely evening at the flatshare — a very graphic description of what he’d want his imaginary boyfriend to do to him, which he had written after watching some porn locked up in his bedroom.

“What are you doing?”

Eliott’s voice sounds so close that Lucas startles guiltily, snapping the list down against his chest in the textbook definition of caught red-handed. Eliott’s eyebrows shoot up as they make eye-contact, and Lucas tries to ignore the way his cheeks heat up. “I- uh- nothing,” he croaks out. “Just going through old stuff.”

There’s a glint in Eliott’s eyes, like he knows, like he can read through his fucking mind — like he too just read that entry #50. Stop fucking spiraling, he doesn’t know shit, he admonishes himself. The only thing he knows is that Lucas is acting like a teenager caught looking at porn.

“What?”, he asks, trying to find back his composure.

Eliott shrugs, with that annoying little smirk on his ridiculously pretty face. “Nothing,” he says, voice drawling a little, but he’s motioning next to Lucas to busy himself with the upper shelves in Lucas’ direct vicinity, and he knows his best friend is being annoying on purpose.

Lucas squints at him from the corner of his eyes. Seemingly unbothered, Eliott stands onto his tiptoes, arms extended at their maximum capacity to reach for a big, dusty cardboard box almost touching the ceiling, and his tee-shirt is riding high and showing the smallest trace of his rib tattoo curling down his side, and that’s when it creeps onto Lucas, at the worst, most inopportune moment. His eyes travel back and forth between Eliott and the list a couple of times, and despite his best efforts to keep calm, Lucas’ stomach starts doing a weird somersault.  

Oh no.

*

Here is the thing.

When he started making that list, he was never planning on his best friend checking pretty much all the boxes right off the bat. That couldn’t have been farther away from what he had in mind, he’s pretty fucking sure of it. And yet here he is. He’s slipped the list into the front pocket of his hoodie before they left the storage unit, and then he took it out to shove it in his laptop bag, where he’s pretty sure no one will find it. It’s not that he’s afraid Eliott would be weirded out about it, it’s just… It’s a lot. Because it’s one thing to be aware that your best friend is insanely attractive, and it’s another one to think that maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t mind being the one he kisses, the one he pulls by the waist at night, and the one who makes him feel good in bed.

The irony of the calendar (and his life, really), makes it that the next few days are just a whirlwind of Eliott Eliott Eliott, and by the time Christmas rolls around, Lucas is ready to die. Not because he doesn’t want his best friend anywhere near, but because he would very, very much appreciate if his brain could just fucking stop bringing up that wishlist every fucking five minutes — every single time he so much as glances or thinks about Eliott. Which tends to be problematic when he’s literally living with him at the moment. All of a sudden it’s like he’s hyper-aware of all the times Eliott smiles at him, reaches out to ruffle his hair in the morning, or has a nice gesture of any kind. It’s like he feels somewhat guilty for every laughter they share, and when they go do some last-minute Christmas shopping, Lucas walks around on automatic pilot for the better part of the afternoon, after inadvertently catching sight of Eliott’s arm flung around his shoulders in a mirror.

The only upside of having a dysfunctional family is that for at least 24h it takes Lucas’ mind off Eliott and that weird-ass situation his fifteen-year-old self put him in the first place. He spends Christmas Eve with his father and his new wife in a restaurant, and if one can’t be caught dead trying anything to make his son feel at ease, the other is trying so fucking hard it makes Lucas wants to throw himself in the traffic on the way to pick up his mom at her subway stop. Because yes, his stepmother insisted that he brings his mother, and Lucas was chicken enough to accept, just so that he wouldn’t have to sit through the whole dinner with his father and his weirdly enthusiastic second wife.

The whole dinner is as awkward as it can possibly be, but then Lucas comes back to Eliott’s place, early enough that his best friend is still at his grandparents’, and he tries to make sense of the feeling of relief he feels when he drops himself on the couch, only to see Eliott’s sketchbook on the coffee table, and Eliott’s hoodie thrown carelessly on the armrest, and Eliott’s drawings pinned up on the walls, and the piano pushed in the corner. It used to be in Eliott’s bedroom back at his parents’, and they would mess around trying to get the Star Wars theme right with four hands on the keyboard.

None of these things feel new — but all the hyper-awareness is weird enough to make him want to scream and hits his head repeatedly with the flat of his hand. And the worst part is that it keeps going on like this. Spending Christmas day at the Demaurys’ shouldn’t feel so weird either, and yet. He’s always been Eliott’s platonic plus one at every single one of his family birthday dinner, so he knows everyone and everything about this family. He knows that one of Eliott’s uncles and his godfather will inevitably end up on different sides of an argument about politics, that Eliott’s dad will probably try to lighten the mood, that Eliott’s younger cousins will pout for a fair share of lunch or dinner except when they’ll venture on TikTok halfway through, that Eliott’s grandmother will make a passive-aggressive comment or two about the food that his mother will try to ignore, and at some point, as always, she’ll go to the kitchen, and make a weird face only for Lucas to see, and that he’ll have to bite the inside of his cheek not to laugh — he knows all of that, because he’s been around for fifteen years.

But still it does feel weird. A little bit. And not just because he’s never spent a Christmas dinner with them. It feels weird, because it downs on him that Eliott is single, and that he’s single too, and that although Eliott’s mother welcomes him as soon as Eliott walks him and asks if they can add a plate, when they take off their coats, Lucas catches a silent conversation between her and her husband that results into Eliott’s dad shrugging. Did they ever think they were more than friends? Did they ever think Lucas was more than just the kid from across the street with a fucked-up family? Because he himself never did, but now it’s all he can think about. And if he had been a girl, or if Eliott had been a girl, if they had been in a boy/girl kind of friendship, he knows that at some point the Demaurys would have asked for ground rules, no matter how ridiculous it would have felt for them. No closed doors in the afternoon, no sleepovers in the same room, and with every birthday dinner or birthday lunch, people would have just assumed they were a particularly chill couple who refrained on PDA.

So that’s how he spends his Christmas lunch, alongside the Demaury family. He laughs at the jokes thrown around, at the same family memories he’s heard a bunch of times already, rolls his eyes at the political arguments on the other end of the table, and spends entirely too much time pondering the ins and outs of heteronormativity and the way it may or may not have shaped his relationship to his best friend.

“You okay?”, Eliott asks at some point on his way back from the kitchen, squeezing his shoulders lightly, and Lucas has to crane his neck all the way up to make eye-contact because his best friend is standing behind him.

“Yeah, I’m all good,” he says with a smile, and when Eliott goes to sit back at the table, Lucas tries his best to ignore another look he catches between Eliott’s parents.

*

“Can I ask you something?” Eliott asks from his spot against the stove, hands tightly wrapped around his mug while Lucas pours himself his second coffee of the day.

It’s officially the last week of the year, and to Lucas’ great dismay, he’s not particularly sure that any of his internal questioning sessions will die at midnight on New Year Eve. To make matters even worse, he doesn’t feel like he’s slept one bit, and although he initially tried to conceal it at best as he could, he guesses he’s making a poor job considering Eliott joined him for breakfast roughly three minutes ago and is already picking up on the signs.

“Yeah, sure,” Lucas says, trying to sound relaxed, nose in his mug to avoid looking Eliott in the eyes.

“You would tell me if you didn’t want us to move in together, right?” Eliott enquires after a moment. “I mean, it’s not the first time I get an idea and I run away with it and you’re…”

“No, no, I still want to,” Lucas interrupts, and he hopes his voice doesn’t sound as weird and scratchy as it feels in his throat. Because he does. He genuinely still does want to go through with it, because no matter how fucked up his brain is making things for him lately, Eliott is still the closest from home he’s ever felt.

Eliott hums. “Oh, okay,” his voice trails off, sounding hesitant, “I mean I was afraid you might have changed your mind and didn’t know how to tell me.”

Lucas laughs, but deep down he wants to slap himself because it sounds like chalk screeching on a blackboard in the silent kitchen corner. God you’re so fake. “I don’t know where you got this idea, I’m still 1000% in.”

Eliott looks sheepish, chewing onto his bottom lip uncomfortably. “Look, I know… I mean you’ve been kind of quiet lately, and I know sometimes you get lost in your head a bit. I don’t want you to think you can’t, like, talk to me or anything.”

Lucas’ grip tightens around his mug. He doesn’t deserve Eliott. No one does, but especially not him. “I’m fine it’s just… You know, Christmas mood isn’t my strong suit,” he mumbles, eyes falling. “Plus, going through all that stuff the other day… It brings up some memories.”

After all, it’s not a lie. It did bring up a lot of feelings and thoughts, and although they aren’t all that unpleasant, it’s surprisingly difficult to maintain eye-contact with your best friend when you spent most of the past few days trying not to picture his mouth on you.

“I’m sorry,” Eliott says, sounding so absolutely genuine that Lucas wants to smash something — preferably his head against the kitchen sink. “Of course I don’t know how you feel but, you’re not going through it alone, right? I’m here for you. Always have and always will.”

Lucas swears he could cry. He can’t possibly keep it to himself. Not when Eliott is his best friend, not when they’re just about to start looking for a place to live together, not when the longest Lucas has tried to hide a secret from him was exactly ten hours. “You’re checking a bunch of boxes,” Lucas confesses with a long sigh, eyes falling shut for a second.

A weird kind of silence settles in the kitchen, tension lodging between Lucas’ shoulders.

“What are you talking about?”, Eliott asks after a moment.

“The boyfriend list,” Lucas mumbles, shaking his head to himself. “Or wishlist or whatever. It’s fucking dumb, I know, and I never realized that before, but the other day I found that stupid list again in my stuff at the storage unit, and now I don’t know what to do with it, or what to think.”

If anyone needs a guide on how to ruin a lifelong friendship, Lucas Lallemant is your reference, he thinks humorlessly. But it’s Eliott. So maybe it’s not that bad, right? It doesn’t have to be a big deal. And okay, maybe he is making a big deal out of it, maybe he wouldn’t have to be afraid about Eliott’s reaction if he wasn’t the one making it sound like-

“And you feel like… it’s a problem?” Eliott asks carefully, as if he had followed his train of thoughts.

Lucas sneers, finally turning around to meet Eliott’s eyes. “Well, you tell me. I’m shaping my imaginary boyfriend after my childhood best friend, what does it say about me?” He’s pretty positive it’s not the sign of someone with a perfectly balanced life.

“That you have great taste,” Eliott grins, but it kind of turns into a wince when Lucas lets out a groan. “Hey, it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want to, alright? I’m nothing extraordinary, I’m sure plenty of guys check those boxes.”

“But…?”, Lucas prompts, because it feels a lot like Eliott isn’t done but he’s really close to tell him that pausing for dramatic effect right now is definitely not the nice thing to do.

Eliott’s hands are still gripping tight his coffee mug. “But nothing. Like I said,” Eliott adds, clearing his throat a little, “it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

Suddenly it hits Lucas that he sounds fucking nervous, like, actually nervous. Why is he nervous? Oh right. He just made things weird. “Why? Do you want it to mean something?”, he asks, hoping to go for a casual laugh, but it comes out wrong, off-key.

“Well… I started making a list too, a couple of years ago,” Eliott says, before pausing. His mouth twists a little. “And it’s… uh, it’s possible you’re checking a bunch of boxes as well.”

Well that’s just getting better and better, Lucas almost says. It’s Eliott’s turn to avoid his eyes and Lucas isn’t sure what’s going on but he’s pretty positive he doesn’t like it, because now things aren’t just weird on his part anymore, and he has no idea what to do with that piece of information.

Eventually, because he’s like that, Lucas snorts — it’s just too much. “Look, I appreciate it if you’re trying to make me feel better but-”

Eliott looks offended. “I’m not,” he says, sounding earnest, and Lucas’ words die in his throat. “Okay, you know what? Come with me.” He puts his mug down onto the kitchen elements, and Lucas doesn’t even have the time to say anything before Eliott motions to leave the kitchen, dragging him along in his wake. His own coffee mug still in his hands, he stares in confusion as they walk into the living room, his best friend going to retrieve one of his sketchbooks from the tiny coffee table.

The next few seconds are particularly silent as Eliott flicks through the pages, but he eventually exhumes a loose leaf from the depths of the sketchbook. What strikes Lucas first is that there’s a lot of black ink on it. Lines, sometimes full-on paragraphs have been crossed with a thick black marker, which offers a stark contrast with Eliott’s rather small but clean handwriting.

“See? I’m not lying,” he says, and he seems to hesitate for a split second, before he hands it to Lucas. “You can read it, if you want.”

No that’s personal, is the first thing that comes to his mind. It’s the right thing to do. It’s the kind of thing he would want people to think about his very own stuff — that it’s off-limit, that peeking is rude, that it’s intrusive. He knows he’s an adult, he knows that, and Eliott is an adult too, and even more so they literally grew up together, they figured shit out together, so it’s not like Eliott would bat an eye if he ever read anything about Lucas’ slightly graphic descriptions, no.

But would he die on the spot from the sheer embarrassment? Probably.

And yet — when Eliott holds his list, he picks it up. He’s a hypocrite like that.

“Boy there's a lot of marker,” he says dumbly, cocking an eyebrow, but deep down all he can think about is that he’s holding that stupid list Eliott wrote, about the things he wants in a partner, and he hates, he hates that there’s some kind of weird hope fluttering deep inside him.

His eyes skim over the entries, more avidly than he’d like to admit. Naturally, Eliott my-head-in-the-cloud Demaury cannot go straight to the point, so it’s not surprising that each entry turns out to be at least a full sentence long.

3- They don’t mind a good challenge and won’t pass on an occasion to try out new things even if that means stepping out of their comfort zone.

8- They understand that mental health isn’t smiling all the time.

14- They’re straight-forward enough to say when things aren’t fine and don’t dismiss it with a shrug.

“Okay but that could be anyone, Eliott,” Lucas says flatly, turning the page over, and he tries his best not to feel disappointed because it’s not like he has the right to be. “And I’m sorry but I think the last time someone called me ‘optimistic’ was, like, in kindergarten, and it was about another Lucas.”

“Well that’s the thing,” Eliott argues with a small shrug, and he buries his hands in his pockets. “To me it’s kind of… you. And I know it’s confusing because well, I was there too, but I feel like… I don’t know, the point of making a list like that in the first place is to figure out what matters and what we want, no?”

Lucas’ hand tightens around his mug. “I mean, yes,” he admits, voice dragging slowly on the last word. But does that mean you want me? He can’t get the words out, it’s like his mouth is full of gravel. Another reason why Eliott’s list can’t possibly be about him, he’s far, very, very far from being brave. Or even ‘quick-witted’ for that matter — he only has biting come-backs that would also get him beaten up in middle school. “But between knowing what makes you comfortable and knowing that you want to know your best friend in the biblical sense, there’s an ocean,” Lucas points out, a bit more dryly than intended.

Eliott’s cocks an eyebrow. “In the biblical sense,” he repeats, laughter not far behind as he perches himself onto the armrest of the couch, and just because of that, because of the subtle way Eliott’s voice changes, because Lucas knows he’s biting back a laugh — it’s because of these small things that the tension lifts a little, and that the atmosphere shifts to something more bearable.

“You know what I mean,” Lucas huffs.

Eliott grins, that kind of annoying grin that made Lucas smack his face with textbooks back in the days. “Oh, yeah, I do, don’t worry about that.”

Lucas rolls his eyes, eventually glancing back to Eliott’s list — but it’s like the words don’t print themselves in his brain, like he can’t comprehend those simple sentences written in Eliott’s oh-so-clean handwriting. “You haven’t told me what all that marker was about,” he croaks out after a moment of silence.

“And how about you tell me how you actually feel about this?”, Eliott asks gently. He rises up from the couch, stepping closer, and Lucas finally finds the courage to look up long enough to hand him back his list.

“I think that you deserve to find someone more than anyone else in the world,” Lucas says, voice getting a bit quiet as he grabs tightly his cold coffee mug with both hands. “But I don’t know if that someone could be me. I never thought… I mean it’s only been a couple of days, before that I never thought of us like that.”

“But you did in the end,” Eliott points out.

It gets Lucas’ brain to work, the wheels turning even faster — because Eliott’s right. He didn’t come to think of being romantically involved with Eliott because Eliott showed him his list, he got there all by himself. And the problem isn’t that Eliott is repulsing, it’s not that the thought of kissing him and going on dates with him is weird, it’s not that falling asleep next to Eliott is grossing him out. The problem is-

“I think I just don’t want to risk losing you,” Lucas admits in a whisper, eyes falling. He’s never been in an actual relationship. His list of exes should be requalified as, at best, weeks-long flings, and he does not particularly think he’ll be a natural at this, courtesy to his parents displaying the opposite of a healthy relationship for most of his life — the last thing he wants is to hurt Eliott in the process of trying and failing.

He only looks up when Eliott’s hands cover his own around the coffee mug. “I know. And I know no amount of promises on my part will make it better, but if you need me to I’ll repeat it every single day.” His thumb gently caresses the back of Lucas’ hand. “I’ll be there as long as you want me to. And if you don’t want me like that, then it’s fine too. I’ll still be there no matter what.”

Lucas takes a deeper inhale. “Why are you so calm about all of this? How long have you been sitting on that shit to be so chill now?”

Eliott looks sheepish. “Two, three years maybe.” Lucas’ mouth falls open, but Eliott quickly adds: “I mean, it’s not that I was like, just fantasizing about you for like three years straight, it’s just that, like, I always thought you were always the one that…” His voice trails off and he huffs a laugh. “See why I didn’t say anything before? It’s just… it’s so hard to explain.”

“Yeah,” Lucas snorts, chewing onto his bottom lip. “Tell me about it.”

But deep down he’s starting to understand what Eliott means. It’s hard to put into words every little thing that makes Eliott the person he needs most. Something not even a list of a thousand entries can do. And maybe that’s why it feels so alien that, to Eliott, he’s the perfect match to his wishlist. To me it is you, Eliott had said before, and now he gets it. He gets it because Eliott’s hands are around his own, he gets it because Eliott would probably be willing to tattoo ‘I will not leave you alone’ somewhere on his arm if Lucas asked. He gets it because Eliott has been sitting on his own feelings for three years, and still he helped him out pick up guys, sort out his life, encouraged him to leave for a whole different country, and he was only brave enough to go through any of it because Eliott made him feel like he was capable of doing so.

“My list is a mess,” Lucas confesses. “And I should probably cover a thing or two before you see it because that’s, like, not appropriate for a first table read. But if you want to read it… Then you can read it. And then you can decide if you think you can put up with me more than you already do.”

Eliott’s smile is soft and blinding at the same time. He takes one of his hands off Lucas’, and when he pulls him closer by the neck, Lucas still feels weird about it, but not in a bad way; there’s just something churning in his stomach that wasn’t there not so long ago. He just leans into the touch as Eliott’s lips press onto his cheek, because Eliott smells good, and it makes him feel warm and protected in a way no one else ever made him feel.

“I’ll be honest,” Eliott says quietly, not pulling much away, “that’s why there’s so much marker on mine.”

This time Lucas feels warm for a whole different reason. He feels the tip of his ears heating up a little bit, and he’s positive it doesn’t have to do with Eliott’s immediate vicinity. “Well,” he says, clearing his throat a little bit, “that’s… something to think about.”

“One step at a time though.”

Lucas finds himself smiling, mirroring Eliott’s expression, his eyes trailing a second too long on Eliott’s lips. “Yeah. One step at a time.”

[grublordcreations]

The Cafe

A commission I did for the sweet taloyo! 

It’s a human!AU where Hide and Haise are freshman in college and have a class together. Hide has a crush on Haise and the following is their first meeting/date :^)

if you’d like a writing commission, I charge $0.01 per word! You can contact me through this tumblr or my email at grublordcreations@gmail.com

The first couple months of college for Hide were…surprisingly boring. Though he was easy-going and friendly, he failed to lock down a friendship that went passed pleasant greetings and discussions about the weather. Instead of making stereotypical college memories, he spent most of his time reading. Hide didn’t expect to be partying all the time, but he thought at the very least he’d have a person to eat dinner with by now. Even though he sometimes became bogged down with feelings of isolation and loneliness, he thought himself lucky that he had books to keep him company.

 On a particularly glum afternoon, Hide stared down at his notes, half paying attention to the Intro to Literature lecture. It was another student presentation day, so he wasn’t pressed about giving his undivided attention. The assignment was to find themes, symbols, and motifs in a text provided by the professor—which was something Hide already considered himself a master of. Rain pattered against the cracked windows, and the humidity made his blonde hair stick to this forehead. As he wiped the hair away, the professor flipped on the lights as the presenter asked if anyone had questions. No one raised their hand and she sat down.

 “Okay, for our final presentation, we have Sasaki Haise on the play Antigone.”

Hide lifted his head at the name. Everyday when the professor called roll, he would make a point to glance over at the boy; he was enamored with his fluffy white and black hair and kind smile. Even though he thought the class was too easy, he looked forward to it for a chance to talk to Haise. Hide meant to talk to him the first week of classes, but he would disappear out the door before he finished packing up. There was another time when Haise lingered behind to talk to the professor, but Hide lost his nerve at the opportunity. The months without a friend had worn on his self-esteem.

Haise brushed passed him as he made his way down the isle of desks and Hide’s body stiffened at the brief contact. He found him oddly familiar, and, well, cute. As he began his presentation, Hide did his best to not stare at him. Instead, he would sneak a glance, nod to show he was listening, and mindlessly scribble in his notebook to fake taking notes.

By the time the clock above Haise read 3:15, most of the other students were already packing up. He didn’t seem close to finishing his presentation and Hide felt sorry for him that the other students were so eager to leave at the end of class. The professor said he could end the presentation there, and that he did more than a sufficient job, but Haise seemed disappointed that he ran out of time. As he walked back to his desk, Hide slowly slid his notebook into his bag. This was another opportunity and he was determined to seize it.

 Almost all the students had left when Hide nervously walked up to Haise, who was frowning down at his desk as he put his things away.

“Hey, Haise?” Hide twirled his thumb nervously around the strap of his bag.

“Y-yes?” he looked up at him with the kindest eyes Hide had ever seen. His heart started to beat faster. 

“I thought your presentation was really cool,” he kicked himself for saying something so lame, but at least he was finally talking to him.

“O-oh, thanks. I wish I got to my analysis on Eurydice’s knitting symbolizing life, but that’s okay,” Haise slung his bag over his shoulders as he stared at his shoes, “Anyways, thanks again.”

Hide desperately didn’t want the conversation to end; that was the most he’d talked to another person in days. Plus, he was talking to Haise, who was without-a-doubt the cutest boy he’s ever seen in his entire life. He didn’t know what to say, he felt his throat closing up, and he started to panic as he watched Haise turn towards the door.

“Hey, wait!”

“Yes? What’s wrong?” Haise turned and tilted his head to the side, eyeing him sympathetically.

“Do you…would you like to get coffee or something? I mean, I’d like to hear more about your analysis, I’ve read Antigone probably a dozen times,” though it was a lie, Hide didn’t know what else to say to convince him and he found himself talking faster than usual. He prayed that didn’t put off Haise. Did he sound too desperate?

“Oh, um, I have another class,” Hide’s heart sank.

“I understa—”

“But I’m free after 5:30. Would that be okay?”

“Oh! Uh—yeah, that’d be great!” Hide’s excitement slipped out with his voice, but he played it off the best he could. The two decided to meet at the campus café at 6 o’ clock before parting ways.

 When Hide got back to his dorm, he threw himself onto his bed. He couldn’t believe he talked to Haise, and what’s more is that they had a date! Or, well, maybe not a date date, but at least a chance to hang out casually. Honestly, Hide would have jumped at the opportunity to hang out with anyone, but this was the most excited he felt in a long time. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face, and he was grateful his roommate Nishiki wasn’t there to see him.

The hours seem to drag by, but when there was only 30 minutes left until the two were supposed to meet, Hide suddenly felt panicked. What if he couldn’t think of anything to say? What should he wear? He frantically flipped through his closet, but should he change clothes at all? Would that be weird? He checked the time on his phone which read 5:45; barely enough time to get across campus to the café. He stuffed his keys and wallet into his pockets before sprinting out the dorm.

 When Hide arrived at the café, he saw Haise already sitting at a table silently reading a book. He chastised himself for being late, but he told himself to let it go before approaching him.

“Hey, sorry I’m late! Have you been here long?” he offered a meek wave before pulling out the chair opposite of Haise and sitting down, who looked up from his book and smiled warmly at him.

“Oh, no, not at all,” he waved him off and took a sip of his coffee.

“Oh good,” the two fell into silence for a moment; they stared into their laps as they waited for the other to say something.

“Hey, I don’t think I ever properly introduced myself. I’m Nagachika Hideyoshi, but you can call me Hide,” though he was struggling with insecurities, Hide was determined to not let his fears get the best of him, “Are you majoring in Literature?”

“Yes, I am,” Haise took another sip of his coffee but didn’t say anything else after that, leaving the two in silence again.

“Um…so Antigone?” Hide felt uncomfortable with the silence, and he didn’t want to mess up this chance. He realized he failed to dedicate anytime researching the play prior to their date—er casual hangout—but he was confident he’d be able to hold up his end of the conversation.

“Um, yeah, would you like to know how my presentation was supposed to end?” Hide nodded, “Okay, so I what I was saying earlier in class about Eurydice…” Haise continued talking about knitting and life and class divides, to which Hide was only half paying attention to. He’d glance into his eyes and get distracted by how much light was behind them; it was obvious he truly had a passion for the subject. After a moment, he’d remind himself to not hold eye contact for too long to avoid being creepy, and he decided to look down at his mouth instead, which made his stomach feel warm and fuzzy. Thoughts of them kissing flashed across his mind, and he shook them away as his cheeks warmed. He decided to look down at the table.

“Anyways, sorry for rambling,” Haise shyly looked at him while rubbing the back of his neck, “What do you think?” Hide’s body stiffened and he began nervously rubbing his own neck. He kicked himself for not paying attention.

“Oh, well, I think, you know, the two sisters represent different human values…” Haise smiled warmly at him, encouraging him to continue, “And, uh, where an individual’s loyalty lies affects how they react.”

“Exactly!” Hide un-tensed his body and let out a sigh of relief. The conversation continued with general introductions; they shared where they were from, what they hoped to have as a career in the future, and what classes they were taking. Hide found himself relaxing more into the conversation, and his sense of familiarity with Haise grew the more they talked. It wasn’t long before they found themselves laughing and sharing stories. There was a natural lull in the conversation when Haise checked the time on his phone.

“Oh, it’s almost 8 o’clock. I should get going, I have some homework,” he looked at Hide sympathetically, as if to say sorry he had to leave.

“That’s okay,” Hide offered a smile while Haise grabbed his book, “Hey, um, so I had a lot of fun… do you want to hang out again sometime?” he held his breath.

“Y-yeah, what’s your number?” the two traded numbers before standing and pushing their chairs in. They stood there for a moment, awkwardly staring at their shoes because they didn’t know how to say goodbye. Hide looked up at him, feeling butterflies in his stomach as he thought about how cute he was. Something came over him, and he leaned in to give Haise a peck on the cheek. Haise’s body stiffened, and both of their faced glowed bright red.

“Um, uh, anyways, b-bye!” Hide ran out the door, across the street, and threw himself behind a tree. He leaned his back against it and slid down while covering his face with his hands. He couldn’t believe he just did that— it was so lame! He didn’t even know if Haise was gay! He felt ashamed, giddy, and stupid. What if Haise doesn’t want to hang out with him now? He sat there kicking himself for a few more moments before begrudgingly getting up and going back to his dorm.

When he returned, he threw himself onto his bed for the second time that day. Again, he silently thanked the gods for allowing him to have the room to himself. He smooshed his face into his pillow as a wave of shame crashed over him. I’ve got to fix this, Hide thought, and he tore his face out the pillow and dug out his phone. Scrolling through his contacts, his thumb hovered over Haise; you’ve got this, he thought, before writing his message:

Hide: Hey…sorry if I weirded you out earlier. I hope you don’t think any less of me.

           He reread the message several times and concluded that it seemed…too dramatic.

Hide: Hey…sorry if I weirded you out earlier!

           Okay, he decided that message seemed far less dramatic, and pressed send. He spent the next few minutes regretting sending it, reassuring himself, and pacing his dorm. Before long, he heard the familiar buzzing of his phone and leapt to grab it. The notification was a message from Haise. Oh god.

Haise: Hey Hide, you didn’t weird me out, I was just caught off guard! I’d still like to hang out again sometime, if you’d like to!

           The relief was almost overwhelming for Hide; a smile spread wide across his face.

Hide: Oh, that’s a relief! I’d like that very much 😊

Haise: Okay, it’s a date!! 

           Hide almost choked on air, which resulted in a coughing fit and him dropping his phone. He scrambled to pick it up again and reread the message to make sure he read it right the first time. A date! He couldn’t believe this; his cheeks flushed, and he collapsed into his bed.

Hide: Sounds great!

[pancakesfor2]

And They Were Roommates (6)

Summary: Unforeseen circumstances lead to you needing a roommate; when Bucky steps up, old feelings come back to light. The only problem is that he has a girlfriend.

Warnings: Cursing, cheating, drinking

Words: 1876

Written for @babylevines writing challenge! My prompt is bolded in this chapter!

Note: Please don’t hate me. 

Masterlist and Series Masterlist are in my bio! Tags are closed!

“Fuck, where is it?” you muttered to yourself as you clawed through the pile of clothes shoved in the back of your drawer. You were looking for your black dress, the one you’d bought while on a shopping trip with Nat a couple of months ago but still hadn’t worn because you just hadn’t had the opportunity. Now that you actually wanted to wear it, you couldn’t find it anywhere.

While you were tearing apart your room looking for your dress, Bucky was breaking up with his girlfriend. He’d been gone for around 45 minutes now, and you were trying not to think about him. You were worried that Dot was going to convince him of her innocence, or that she’d try and make you out to be the bad guy. If it came to that, you still had the pictures you took that day, but you were pretty sure that Bucky would believe you over her anyways. 

You’d given up on the dress being in your closet and you were about to throw in the towel and just wear something else, but then you remembered that you shoved a couple of bags under your bed a while ago and had never bothered to get them out and put the clothes away. 

That was how Bucky found you, half under your bed, using an unraveled clothes hanger to try and reach the bag that you just knew contained the dress you were looking for. “I would ask what you’re doing, but I’m a little afraid of what the answer might be,” he laughed. 

“Not funny,” you said, but the fact that you were still under your bed probably made it a little hard to take you too seriously. “Aha! Got it!!” you exclaimed, having pulled the bag close enough to where you could reach out and grab it. You slid out from under your bed, and turned to Bucky. “How’d it go?”

“Eh, she denied everything. Tried to convince me that you were jealous of her and made it up to get to me.”

“I didn’t.”

“Yeah I know that, and I told her just as much.”

“So are you two broken up now?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. I’m not staying with someone who cheated on me––yeah, I told her we were through.

You didn’t really know how to reply, especially since you didn’t want to appear too enthusiastic about his break up. He was cheated on for goodness sake. So instead you nodded and changed the subject, “What time do you think we’ll leave for Sam’s tonight?”

“Like seven?”

“Okay.” That gives you two hours to both study and get dressed for the party.  

“Cool, I’m gonna catch up on some homework in my room.” He pointed at his door with his thumb. 

“Yeah, me too. Just knock on my door if you’re ready to go and I’m not out yet.”

He nodded and left your doorway. You wiped some dust off the bag, and pulled out the dress, inspecting it for tears or stains. Luckily it was still perfect, you hadn’t even cut the tag off. Nat’ll be happy that you’re finally wearing it.

You put the dress away and study for a bit, finishing up a paper you’d started a couple of days ago. Your phone buzzed, distracting you from your homework. It was a text from Tony, so you decided to answer it, if it was anyone else you’d probably ignore them and keep studying but Tony was Tony. 

Tony: You do it?

You: Yeah, I’ll tell you at the party tonight

Tony: You’re coming?!?

You: Bucky wants to go, I’m going for support

Tony: Cool, see you then ;)

You tossed your phone down onto the bed, hoping it wouldn’t bounce off and onto the floor. Tony’s text had come at the perfect time, interrupting your studying so that you could get ready to leave. 

You already had the dress out, and it didn’t need to be ironed, so you put it on and then went into your bathroom to do your hair and makeup. It didn’t take you very long, since you’d perfected your ‘going out’ look a long time ago and now were able to get ready within fifteen minutes. 

You’d decided against wearing heels since you knew that you’d be the one driving you and Bucky back from the party. You were just tying your shoelaces, when you heard Bucky knocking on your door, “You ready?” he called from outside. 

“Yeah just give me one more second,” you replied, grabbing your bag and going to open your door. You pulled the door open and stopped dead in your tracks. Bucky was on his phone, his body leaned against the back of the couch, and he looked good. 

“Let’s get out of he–” He stopped mid-sentence, looking up from his phone and noticing you. He looked you up and down, and to be honest you were doing the same to him. Fuck. He was wearing this black leather jacket, and the only word you had to describe him was hot. 

It felt like you were staring at each other for hours, but really it was only a few seconds before you snapped yourselves out of your daze and made your way towards the front door. Neither of you choosing to acknowledge what had just happened. 

The car ride to Sam’s was spent in comfortable silence, letting the radio play whatever was popular at the moment. Bucky was driving, his eyes constantly on the road, while you sat in the passenger seat next to him, resisting the urge to turn and stare at him. Bucky was magnetic, his personality, his looks, everything just screamed look at me! I’m everything you need! 

When you arrived at the party you split up, Bucky made a beeline towards Sam and Steve while you went to the kitchen where you knew you’d find Tony. Hanging out in kitchens during parties was your “thing,” especially since that was where’d you’d first met during your freshman year. 

“Hey! Look at you!” exclaimed Tony as you entered the room, seeing him perched atop the island in the middle of the room. 

You laughed and did a little spin, the skirt of your dress flaring out ever so slightly. Holding the dress down with one hand, you used the other to push yourself up onto the counter next to your best friend. 

“How’d he take the news?” 

“Better than I would’ve, he broke up with her before a couple of hours ago.” You decided not to mention the crying, some things were just meant to stay between you and Bucky. 

“What about you?” he slung his arm around your shoulders, “How’re you doing?”

“I’m good, I think. I mean I wasn’t the one being cheated on you know?” You said, raising your palms. 

Tony nodded, then hopped off the counter, grabbing your hand and pulling you down with him, “That’s enough sad stuff for today, let go see what our guys are doing.” He lead you out into the living room and you followed, choosing not to acknowledge the fact that he referred to Bucky as yours. 

You found the guys in the living room, where Sam and Bucky seemed to be having a competition to see who could take more shots within a minute. Steve was judging, and his face lit up as soon as he saw Tony. He beckoned the two of you over, and pulled Tony into his arms, forgetting about the game and burying his face in the shorter man’s hair. 

Meanwhile, Sam and Bucky had finished up and were looking to Steve expectantly, “So… which one of us won?” asked Sam with a teasing smile on his face. 

“No fucking clue,” replied Steve, kissing the top of Tony’s head. 

You looked over at Bucky and noticed how his eyebrows knit together at the sight of Steve and Tony being all lovey dovey. It must’ve hurt to see his best friend so happy when he’d just broken up with his girlfriend of six months. The breakup also explained his excessive drinking. You’d seen him at parties before, but he’d never gotten as wasted as he did tonight. 

You’d been out for a couple of hours when you’d decided that it was getting late, so you said goodnight to all your friends and all but carried Bucky back to your car. You strapped him into the passenger seat, buckling his seatbelt for him. 

As you pulled the strap across his chest, he took hold of your hand and pressed it to his heart, “Why is my heart beating so fast?” he wondered aloud. 

“I don’t know,” you laughed, releasing yourself from his grip. You climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car, you had just pulled out of the parking space when Bucky spoke up again. 

“Am I unlovable?”

Oh shit. 

He continued, “Is that why she had to be with someone else? Was I not good enough?” 

“You’re more than good enough, Dot’s an idiot.” You hoped you sounded reassuring.  took one hand off of the wheel and clasped his, squeezing it reassuringly. 

“But what if nobody actually loves me? She said she loved me and she lied, so what if everyone else is lying too? What if everyone in my life is just pretending to like me and then one day they’ll get sick of me the same way she did?” 

I love you. You wanted to say, but you couldn’t. Instead you took one hand off of the wheel and clasped his, squeezing it and saying “You have so many people who love you Bucky. Real love, not like Dot.” 

He didn’t say anything else, only squeezing your hand back in response. 

Getting Bucky up to the apartment was a lot harder than getting him into the car, but you managed it, dragging him up the three flights of stairs. You left him on the sofa in the living room, you were going to change out of your dress and then you’d take him to his own room. But it seemed like Bucky had other plans, because when you tried to walk away he reached out and pulled you backwards, making you lose your balance and fall right into his lap. 

Your eyes met and time seemed to stop. You stared into his eyes, and noticed for the first time that they were more grey than blue. His gaze slipped, his eyes darting down to your mouth. His tongue slipped out to wet his lips, and his head got closer and closer to yours before finally he kissed you. 

You froze. He was drunk. He was just cheated on. This meant nothing. You genuinely didn’t know how to react. “Did you just kiss me?” you asked in a daze. 

“I don’t know,” he replied, not meeting your eyes. 

“I’m going to bed now.” You scrambled out of his lap, practically ran into your room, and slammed the door behind you. You could fix this. All you had to do was pretend that none of this ever happened. He probably wouldn’t remember any of it anyways. You just had to act like everything was normal tomorrow morning and you’d be home free. Easy. 

Updates are now every other week! Tags in the reblogs! Let me know what you thought of this chapter! 

[writer-rochelle]

The Fridge (The Mandalorian x reader)

(a/n: So my friend Alyssa sent me this -------> https://vm.tiktok.com/nLbsfK/  tiktok which I highly recomned y’all look at as it is the inspo for this first part of what will eventually become a short fic. Please let me know what y’all think and don’t hesitate to leave a request <3) warnings- some cursing, wine (consider yourself 21+ in this, use your imagination), my weak attempts at jokes ;))))

Okay so what if this was the third time in the last hour you got up to stare aimlessly into the refrigerator.  It’s not like there was much else to do! You’d already finished folding and putting away your laundry, turned in a majority of your assignments, hell you’d even willingly joined in on the Zoom lecture your Psychology professor had hosted early that morning and taken notes.

You had been hoping that there would few cases of the virus in the town you were staying in for uni for as long as possible, but with the numbers in the towns around you growing you knew it would only be a matter of time before there would be a shelter in place order.

You had officially spent a week alone in your apartment, having left only twice; once to get money from your Aunt and Uncle 45 mins away, and then again a day later, getting up at the crack of dawn to stock up on non-perishables, wine, several movies from the $5 bin, and some crafting and baking materials. All in all, you had enough food and distractions to last for at least a month and a half before you needed to venture out again. However, the repeated routine of eating, homework, movie, chore, eating, homework, movie, chore was starting to drive you a bit crazy.

Opening your fridge, you signed. Your theory that the items within having a conscious and could talk and move (ala Toy Story, and Sausage Party) was a bust. ‘Unless they know I know’, you thought. You rolled your eyes, grabbing a water bottle and proceeding to stare at the containers of leftovers, produce, a half-empty can of Red Bull, and various other food items.“Hey guys, just checking in,” you said, shutting the door and cringing at how absolutely crazy you sounded. Yeah, you needed human interaction. Now.

You longed for the days of being able to jump into your car, drive to Target, and wander through each department and aisle for hours. Throwing various things you didn’t need into your basket, Fleetwood Mac, Beyonce, and various other artists crooning interchangeably through your earbuds. Granted that wasn’t true human interaction, but you were in public with other people! And occasionally, you worked up the nerve to go to the cashiers instead of staring at yourself in the self-checkout security camera. (okay maybe you just missed target)

You could call your parents on that stupid Portal thing they insisted on buying (“It’s easier than that damned Facetune crap you kids are always trying to get me to use!” your dad had argued) But you would rather not spend the next hour and a half listening to your mum beg you to come home, while your dad talked over her, insisting that not only would you traveling pose as a risk to yourself (more importantly them and your brother), but you also had a lease to keep and classes to finish. And it was almost 8 o’clock, an excuse you would use should your mum happen to ask why you hadn’t called.  Finally, you decided that watching TV and indulging in a few glasses of wine wouldn’t hurt. Once again, not like there was anything better to do. After all, you weren’t being charged by different streaming services each month for nothing.

Turning back to your fridge, you grabbed the bottle of wine you had been sipping on (pointedly ignoring your friends), a random cartoon decorated cup from your cabinet, and sat down in front of your TV. Sinking back into the indentions your bum had made not too long ago, you logged back onto Disney+ and continued watching the Mandalorian. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time you had watched the show but who really cared when there was no one around to bully you about it. Personally, you would much rather be quarantined with a silent wall of beskar, and a green baby but alas you would just have to stick to watching your show.

You giggled, watching as the Mandalorian attempted to seat himself atop the female blurg, Kuiil’s disappointed headshakes reminding you of your late grandfather. Growing slightly drowsy you leaned forward to place your cup onto your coffee table, before laying out across the couch snuggling under your lavender comforter you had dragged from your room earlier that morning. ‘I’ve seen this episode before, it wouldn’t hurt to close my eyes.’

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

You woke with a start. The various sounds of the brass section in the theme song reaching your ears in the half-awake state you were in. You groaned sitting up and lowering the volume on the tv before getting up to trade your wine for a bottle of water. Tossing the cup into the sink, you glanced at the clock on your microwave, the numbers [11:30] flashed back at you. How long had you been asleep? You didn’t even bother to check what episode autoplay had gotten to for you. You sighed, ‘May as well shower and go to sleep’ You opened your fridge, going to place the bottle of wine back in it’s designated place when you stopped.

“What the hell?”, you did a double-take. Where had all of the stuff in your fridge gone? Where there once had been shelves and food was now empty save for the ones attached to the door and was that…

“No fucking way”,  you turned and placed the bottle in your hand on the island behind you before turning and lifting an egg-shaped container out of the fridge and onto the island as well. It looked exactly like the pram on the show that was still droning on in your living, the faint sound of blaster fire mixing with the sound of your pounding heart. How the hell did a prop from your favorite tv show get in your fridge? Slowly you reached forward and spread the two sides of the pram’s lid apart. Nestled within was none other than The Child. Your eyes widened as he cooed, making uppy arms, his big eyes blinking up at you.

“Hey, little guy how on earth did you get here?” you cradled him to your chest, glancing towards the wine bottle on the counter.  ‘Is this some sort of whack ass wine dream? Am I still asleep on the couch?’ you shifted the kid into one arm, reaching down with your right hand to pinch your thigh before grimacing. ‘Nope I’m definitely awake’ You had been so caught up in your thoughts that you hadn’t noticed the figuring looming behind you till you felt the child shift in your arms reaching for…..

The Mandalorian….the fucking Mandalorian was standing in your kitchen. More importantly, the Mandalorian was standing in your kitchen with his blaster pointed directly between your eyes.

“Hand over the kid,” he said, his modulated voice sending shivers down your spine.

Yeah, this was definitely not a dream.

(a/n: ahhhhh so that”s it...for now ;)))) i hope y’all enjoyed it and want to see more! xoxo rochelle)

[jaehyun-eclipsed]

Before I Met You | Six

Updates: Sundays, 8 PM EST

Pairing: NCT (Jaehyun, Lucas…) X Reader/OC

Genre: Romance, Angst, Coming of Age

Summary: Four. There were four people before I fell in love with you… Here are their stories.

Warnings: Contains some swearing

Before I Met You Masterlist

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After several weeks of constant stress and endless studying, high school was finally coming to an end. I was never one to take many photos, but I knew there were people that I’d likely never see again. So on the last day of class, I decided to ask some of them to take a picture. My first and only class with Lucas was biology.

“Hey,” I say to Lucas, Seulgi, and Yang Yang. “Take a picture with me.”

“Okay!” Lucas responds.

“Oh, so you’ll take a picture for Y/N but not for me?” Seulgi snaps.

Oh shit.

Lucas doesn’t say anything, but I decide to put my foot in my mouth. “I’m just special,” I say with a smile.

Seulgi doesn’t respond, her face attempting to smile in order to hide the bitterness she actually felt.

Oh my God, Y/N. You’re such an idiot.

“Let’s take the picture!” Lucas says. “Yang Yang, you take it!”

Graduation came and went. It was weird. It hadn’t really hit me yet that I had graduated from high school. The ceremony was rather uneventful. Doyoung, Taeyeon, Hyojin, Hana, and I were all being honored as part of the top twenty in our class. This meant that we were set to walk the stage first and then after that, we sat in the audience, glancing back at the crowd every so often to see how many more rows of students had to walk. Quite honestly, we were bored.

The ceremonial cap tossing was followed by many hugs, selfies, and promises to hang out during the summer before truly needing to say goodbye to those who would be leaving for college. For a moment, it felt like time stopped. Bright lights shone down on everyone, providing a spotlight as if it was our last moment on stage.

“Y/N! We’re done!” Lucas shouts as he runs towards me, picking me up and spinning me around as confetti falls around us.

“Congratulations, Lucas!”

His eyes are sparkling when he sets me down, his hands still holding onto my arms. We smile at each other for a moment before he realizes he’s still holding me.

“Oh!” he remarks, dropping his hands and nervously rubbing one of them behind his neck. “Good luck at Berkeley, Y/N. Make sure you come back and visit.”

“Thank you, I definitely will.”

“Maybe we can hang out this summer?”

My heart jumps at the suggestion and the naïve thought of a first date and first kiss during my last summer before college. The fantasy was a heartbreaking cliché with the word ‘BAD’ written all over it in capital letters. There was something so appealing about it. The summer fling with the boy from high school; falling in love too fast after a passionate kiss at the beach; an emotional goodbye and shattering heartbreak as one had to leave because real life got in the way. This kind of situation never ends well. It’s indulging in the forbidden fruit only to realize it was poisoned from the very beginning.

“Yeah.” I smile. “I’d like that.”

I was quick to learn of Lucas’s new job at a clothing store at the mall. He was notorious for posting every little thing he did on social media and had a poor habit of posting on Snapchat while he was driving. It made it easy to figure out where he was all the time. Plus, the store he worked at was a place I often shopped at already.

“When did you start working here?”

Lucas folds a shirt, placing it on the shelf before turning around to face me. “Right after school got out. I like the clothes here.”

“Yeah, I do too.”

“If you want anything, just let me know. They give me forty percent off everything except clearance,” he says. “I’ll buy it for you and you can pay me back. Like, I just bought a bunch of jewelry for Sooyoung.”

Well that’s nice of him.

“Thanks!” I hold up a beige scarf. “I think I’m going to buy this, but it’s on clearance.”

He smiles. “It looks nice. Let me know when you’re ready to check out!”

“Oh, I’m ready now. This is all I’m getting today.”

He nods and leads me over to the cash register. I hand him the scarf and he begins to palm through it to look for any security tags.

“Hey, so we should hang out.” He keeps his gaze on the scarf. “Maybe grab lunch or something?”

The temptation to take a bite into the fruit returns. Yes, we were just getting lunch, but it was still something. He wants to hang out one-on-one. Who says this can’t turn into something more after that?

“Yeah! That would be great!” I say with a wide grin.

He taps several keys on the register before telling me to swipe my card. “Okay, you can just text me and we’ll hang out!”

An alarm sounds off in my head. It’s brief, but nevertheless, it’s still there. Why do I have to text you if you want to go? Maybe this is an open-ended thing so that I can ask him if I actually want to go and it’s not a full blown rejection if he asks and I say ‘no’.

I force a smile before my perplexed feeling can be expressed on my face. “Okay… Maybe next week because I’m supposed to go to orientation for school this weekend.”

“Yeah! That sounds good!”

I look up at the clock tower as my orientation group walks by. Wouldn’t it be nice for Lucas to come visit me and we could take walks around campus? The sun is about to set, glowing a blazing gold and orange over the horizon. A new beginning. This is where I’m going to spend the next four years of my life, supposedly making new friends and memories to last a lifetime.

“It’s going to be completely different.”

“You’re going to have so much fun.”

“You’re going to meet so many smart and interesting people!”

“You’re going to meet someone much better than Lucas.”

“You’re going to love it!”

This was the collage of phrases I’d heard over the past few months since I had chosen a school. I had good faith it would be true. I liked the people I had met in my orientation group; we all had the same goal and everyone was relatively nice with the exception of one of my roommates for the night. She was tall and blonde and seemed to be rather arrogant. From the way she looked at me, I took it that she just thought I was a typical nerd. Fortunately, I didn’t have to spend much time with her since she wasn’t in my orientation group. If I wasn’t with my group, I was exploring on my own.

“Hey! Let’s all take a picture on the steps!”

But being here… actually being here… terrified me to no end. Aside from coming here to tour the campus and make some initial contacts, we were supposed to meet with college counselors and select our first semester classes.

I discovered that selecting the classes you needed to take wasn’t even the hard part; it was signing up for the classes that was a challenge. My orientation date was in the middle, so by the time I was able to sign up, the sections I had wanted were already full.

I felt like I didn’t know what I was doing. Prior to arriving, we were instructed to fill out a questionnaire to determine what classes we would need to take for our intended majors. You didn’t have to declare a major until sophomore year, but you at least had to start working towards it so that you could graduate on time. It’s a terrible system. At eighteen, you’re expected to have an idea of what you supposedly want to commit to for the rest of your life. The system even lets you determine that you’re responsible enough to make a decision that can cost hundreds of thousands of dollars.

And now, even while taking a commemorative photo with the sun suggesting a brighter future, all I wanted to do was cry. I’m not ready for college. I’m not ready to leave home. I’m just not ready. And suddenly, I’m left wondering if this whole time, my perceived independence and confidence, was just me pretending…

After returning from orientation, I was trying to find ways to distract myself from my inevitable future that I wasn’t ready for. I had made attempts to find things I enjoyed as I realized this may be the only summer for the next several years that would be completely free of responsibility. No summer homework, no internship – I was free to be self-indulgent. So I spent a lot of my time doing things I didn’t allow myself to have time for while in high school. I’d read, watch movies, and take walks at the mall. I’d even go to parties held by my former high school classmates. But of course, I also spent a lot of that time thinking about Lucas.

Maybe I’ll ask him today. It’s been a week since I’ve seen him… That seems like enough time.

Me to Lucas [4:15 PM] Hey! You busy tomorrow? Wanna get lunch?

I place my phone down, twiddling with my thumbs and waiting for my phone screen to light up.

He’s definitely going to want to go. And then we’ll get to have lunch and maybe we can hang out some more before I have to leave! And maybe… just maybe, he’ll tell me he likes me!

I smile at the thought. It’s a last hurrah before having to leave everything. I’d get my happy, sad summer ending.

But of course, that thought quickly drifts out of reach again as time creeps by. Fifteen minutes, thirty minutes, an hour…

It was my birthday and biology all over again. When Hana invited him to go to my birthday dinner, he took hours to respond, never directly saying he couldn’t come, just that he was preoccupied. He did the same thing with our biology project, never directly saying he hadn’t finished it, just that he was busy with something else that apparently took precedent.

Lucas [5:45 PM] I have work tomorrow

I roll my eyes. He’s lying again. And you just had so much hope that you would get your chance even though you knew. I only had one word for him.

Me [6:00 PM] Okay.

This is a pattern.

This is a trait.

And I was dumb enough to fall for it three times.  

Later that night, while festering in my annoyance, I receive a text from Siwoo.

Siwoo [8:09 PM] I overheard Lucas talking about you

My eyes widen. Lucas was talking about me?

Me [8:15 PM] What? Where?

Siwoo [8:17 PM] At the mall. Sicheng and Yang Yang were waiting for him to get off work and I was in the store looking at something

Me [8:18 PM] What did they say?

Siwoo [8:21 PM] Sicheng asked Lucas if he was still thinking about asking you out and Lucas didn’t say anything. So Sicheng guessed that Lucas already did and Lucas was like “I asked her to get lunch but I have to work tomorrow.” Then Sicheng was like “I thought you said you didn’t have to go to work tomorrow? You should just go with Y/N. Who cares about Seulgi?”

Wow, so he was lying. And he has absolutely no idea that I have people looking out for me to give me confirmation about these things.

It definitely pays to have friends in all circles. I can have eyes everywhere.

Me [8:22 PM] So he was lying! Wtf. What does Seulgi have to do with this?

Me [8:23 PM] What did they say after that?

Siwoo [8:24 PM] Lying? About what?

Me [8:26 PM] I asked him to get lunch tomorrow and he just said he had to work. No rescheduling, no nothing

Siwoo [8:27 PM] Jackass. I guess Seulgi doesn’t want Lucas dating you

Siwoo [8:29 PM] Yang Yang said that Seulgi would get really pissed and then asked if he really wanted to go. Lucas said he did but also was afraid because Seulgi would get mad because she’s jealous of you and he’s been friends with her longer

Seulgi… always getting in the way.

Me [8:32 PM] Jfc. She won’t date him and when he wants to go after someone else, she gets mad. What does she want??

Siwoo [8:34 PM] Idk... that’s all I heard

One of my favorite things to do is have late night chats. There’s something so intoxicating about the night – it brings out honesty despite its purpose of making everything dark… hidden… mysterious. The comfort of the night allows us to reveal our deepest secrets in confidence. It gives a false sense of safety. You trade your ability to hide your body language, thinking that’s what you need to keep secret when voluntarily speaking words you’d thought you’d never say aloud.

The night is an oxymoron.

Yet, it is when I thrive. My best thinking is done at night. My best conversations occur at night.

I had a habit of keeping my dad up at late hours into the night, pitching my ideas, revealing my thoughts, running through an endless list of scenarios. I could’ve chosen any other time of day to do this, but night was always my preferred time. That’s when I was the best at being honest to myself about Lucas. There were fewer distractions and I could kick more sense into myself when the temptation was unusually strong.

“How come he said he wanted to hang out and then when I ask him, he lies and says he has to work?” I ask angrily, pacing in my dad’s room.

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s scared,” my dad responds. “But you know, he appears to have a habit of doing this.”

“So he’s just flakey,” I say, making more of a statement than asking a question.

“Yes.”

“He didn’t even say ‘no’! He just said he had to work and didn’t say anything about rescheduling.” I frown. “Does that mean he doesn’t actually want to go?”

“You mentioned earlier that Siwoo overheard him talking about Seulgi?”

“Yeah?”

“I do think Seulgi is jealous of you.”

I stop pacing and huff, putting my hands on my hips. “That’s ridiculous! She has all of these guys all over her! She gets way more attention than I do! Why would she ever be jealous of me?!”

“People don’t like it when others do better than they do,” he says. “I’m sure she thinks you’re a lot smarter than her. And even if she doesn’t think you’re prettier than she is, she can’t deny that you’re not attractive.”

Gnawing on my bottom lip, I contemplate what he tells me. It is possible, but I can’t imagine anyone feeling that way about me. I’m the quiet one that no one pays attention to except when they want answers on their homework. That’s not entirely true, but I honestly thought that no one really cared about what I did. I just did my schoolwork and minded my own business. The most people would ever really talk to me about was college. Long story short, my conclusion was that everyone thought I was boring. Granted, Siwoo did mention all of those other comments from Ara and Yunji. I guess I had more confirmation of some of these statements than I would have liked to admit or was able to believe.

“So if I go to the mall and see him again, he’s probably going to bring up hanging out again.” My face sours, disgusted at how easily Lucas could say things he doesn’t mean over and over again. “What should I say to him?”

“What you should do, is next time you see him, make him pick the time and date. Just tell him, ‘If you’re so busy, then why don’t you pick the time and the date? Then let me know.’ Flip it back onto him.”

Even though I knew any attempts to hang out with Lucas were probably nonexistent – and definitely nonexistent if I flipped the decision back onto him – I didn’t want to give up like that. But the rational part of me knew this would be the best thing to do. Summer was more than half gone already. What could we possibly do in that time even if we did hang out once or twice? I was onto bigger and better things with completely different people. Who cares about some idiot from high school?

This shirt looks nice. I pull the hanger from the rack, admiring the red, sleeveless blouse. It would be nicely paired with some blue denim shorts.

“Hey!”

When I hear Lucas’s voice, something kicks in… likely my rationality because suddenly, I’m angry.

I glance over my shoulder, seeing him leaning against a wall next to me. “Hey.”

“So school starts soon, huh?”

I continue admiring the blouse, holding it up to my body to estimate the fit. “Yeah, I’m leaving in a few weeks.”

“Oh! We should hang out before then!”

Here we go…

I internally roll my eyes, completely exasperated as I had mentally prepared myself for this moment. I was not going to give in again. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times, I’m an idiot. Fool me four times? Yeah, not going to happen.

“I think you tried to hit me up, right?” he continues, crossing one foot over the other and pulling his phone out. “But I think I was busy that week.”

Yeah, you were “working”.

“Yeah, well, since you’re so busy,” I say. “How about you decide?” I cross my arms. “Pick the date, pick the time, let me know.”

He keeps his gaze on his phone, scrolling with his thumb, probably pretending to filter through his “completely booked” calendar.

“Okay,” he agrees. “So just text you?”

I can feel the sharpness of my tongue as I respond, “Yep.”

“When are you leaving?”

“On the fifteenth.”

He smiles at me, uncrossing his legs and placing his phone back in his pocket. “All right, well, my shift is over so I’ll hit you up later.”

Right… I’m sure you will.

A couple days later, I opted to go to a coffee shop that my high school classmates would frequent after class. I had brought a book along with me and was going to spend the next hour or so reading while sipping on a lavender latte before going to meet Hana for dinner.

“Y/N?”

I lift my head from my book and turn in the direction of the voice.

“Oh, hey Sicheng!”

Sicheng and I weren’t really friends, but we could always have conversations. We were acquaintances at best, but he was best friends with Lucas and Kibum. And all throughout high school, he was always kind and respectful towards me. Despite him becoming ‘one of the guys’ when he was around his friends, he was one of the nicer ones of the group and he knew how to flip off that switch when he would talk to anyone else outside of his posse.

He smiles at me and walks over to my table. “Just reading?”

“Yeah, I thought I’d get a lavender latte before meeting Hana for dinner.”

“Oh nice.”

I look at his hand that’s gripping onto the backpack slung over his shoulder. “Are you here to work on something?”

“Hm?” He follows my gaze to his backpack. “Oh, yeah, I have some scholarship essays I need to work on. When are you leaving for school?”

“In a couple weeks.”

“Congratulations, Y/N! That’s really exciting!”

“Thanks! I’m excited… though, I’m quite nervous too.”

“Yeah, I bet…” he trails off.

He looks down at my book, continuing to linger at my table. His mouth opens slightly and he smiles, like he’s contemplating on saying something. I raise an eyebrow up at him, silently asking what’s on his mind.

Suddenly, he says something that’s somewhat out of left field. “Hey, do you talk to Lucas?”

My eyes narrow. “I see him at the mall sometimes,” I say. “I buy a lot of my clothes at the store he works at. Why?”

“Oh, uh, I was just wondering if you guys hang out…”

What are you fishing for?

“Did he say something?”

“No… no, not really.” Sicheng presses his lips together. “Did he ask you out?”

Well that was forward.

I swallow and narrow my eyes again, wondering what on earth Sicheng could be getting at. “Like, on a date?”

“Yeah.”

“No, he did ask me to hang out though…” I shake my head, trying to dismiss all of the fluff. Sicheng just needs to get to the point. “Why are you asking?”

He sighs in frustration. “Okay, to tell you the truth, he likes you.”

I raise an eyebrow, questioning both the truth of the statement and his reasons for telling me. “Really…” I say skeptically. “It doesn’t seem like it.”

“He wants to go out with you, Y/N.”

“What?” I ask, incredulity lacing my tone. “I – I don’t understand. Why are you even telling me this?”

He clicks his tongue. “Look, I –” He sighs again, shifting his gaze to a far corner of the room before turning to look back at me. “Lucas is my best friend and I’m just tryin’ to help him out because – as much as I like Seulgi, she’s being a bitch.”

Of all the things for Sicheng to do, I never thought he would do this. He’s always been nice, but why would he ever confess that Lucas likes me? Why would he out his best friend?

My expression is perplexed, confused at his confession. I don’t say anything and let him continue.

“She knows Lucas likes you, but she doesn’t even like, want him to talk to you.” His face turns sour. “So, I’m just – I’m just seeing how you feel because he’s my friend and Seulgi’s just being…” he trails off, waving his hand in dismissal.

I shrug, making a gesture with my hands to express frustration. At this point, telling him the truth doesn’t really seem to make any difference. “Well, I’d go out with him if he asked, but –”

“Yeah, I know…” he interjects, offering me a small smile. “I know you’re leaving soon, but I don’t know… I just thought I’d see what’s up with you and try to help Lucas out before then.”

This was a strange revelation. I never expected Sicheng to do this. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel all giddy inside having confirmation that Lucas did like me. Unfortunately, my opinion of Seulgi had deteriorated even further and gave me confirmation that what she did at Winter Ball was, in fact, on purpose. She couldn’t stand having a different girl having (in her eyes, steal) Lucas’s attention. That was too great of a hit to her ego. On the other hand, all this told me was that Lucas had little to no backbone. He was easily influenced by someone that wasn’t good for him and would never fully return his affections. Yet, he couldn’t stand not having her in his life even if all she would end up doing is crushing him. I guess we both have something else in common – at least for the next few weeks.

I was a fool. The temptation to bite into the forbidden fruit was too great and the truth of the matter was that I didn’t even get to bite into it. It was always within reach, on a branch that was just a smidge too high. But then a gust of wind blew and the fruit fell and hit me in the head.

Lucas never did text me.

And I never heard from him after that.

Perhaps the first dance really was the last.

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Before I Met You Masterlist Masterlist  

[captainmarvels]

where I lay down

Summary: Steve has one year left to get you to talk to him, and he doesn’t realize how much he loves the game until you let him win.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Steve Appreciation Week Day 7 Prompt: Song lyrics - “Living love in slow motion” - 18 by One Direction

Word Count: 2032

A/N: My final entry for Steve Appreciation Week! I loved writing for one of my favorite characters, and thank you to everyone who read my pieces! Hope y’all enjoy this last one x

It was the first day of senior year, and the last thing on Steve’s mind was love.

This year was his last at Hawkins before moving on to bigger and brighter things - hopefully outside of Indiana - and he wasn’t going to let anything distract him from the ultimate dream: graduation.

Glancing down at the note in his hand, he made his way to his first class of the day - English Lit. 

Name tags were on each desk, and Steve wandered around the room trying to find his. Finally finding it on a desk in the back, close to the windows, he dropped his books on top of the laminate and sat down.

Glancing to his right, he saw a familiar face sitting next to him.

“Funny finding you here,” He whispered, his eyes concentrating on the writing across the chalkboard.

You snorted, saying nothing. 

“We’re doing this again?” He looked over at you, grinning cheekily as you kept looking straight ahead, avoiding his gaze. 

Ever since freshman year, you and Steve shared one class together, without fail. And somehow, you always ended up sitting next to each other, at one point or another. 

Every single time, Steve would try to provoke a response out of you, but you refused to give in. 

You knew “King” Steve, and you weren’t really up for his distracting antics during class. Thus, you never responded to his questions or whispered commentary during class discussions. 

Steve had made it a goal of his to get you to answer him at least once before graduation, and he was reminded of that as he settled back into his seat as the final bell rang.

Game on.

Just before the bell was supposed to ring, Steve slipped you a note, his gaze concentrated on the teacher’s lecture. Eyebrows raised in confusion, you flipped the scrap piece of paper open, keeping a straight face as you read his chicken scratch handwriting.

Shall we make a bet out of this ‘not answering me’ charade of yours? 

If I get so much as a LAUGH out of you, you have to come to one of my house parties. I need you to have a life out of school, dude. Deal?

As the bell started to ring, you scrawled your answer on the back of the paper, tossing it on Steve’s desk without a second glance. 

He picked it up and read your reply, a wide smile dawning on his lips as he made his way out of the room, tucking the piece of paper in his pocket.

Game on, Harrington.

Steve made sure to get to class ten minutes before the bell, giving himself an ample amount of time to try and get a reaction out of you before class began.

And every day, without fail, you managed to keep a straight face and wired shut lips, your eyes not even sneaking a glance at the ever-frustrated Steve falling back in his seat in defeat. 

“How long can you keep this up?” He whispered to you, his eyes watching the teacher as they paced back and forth in the front of the room. He glanced over, and saw you were diligently doing your work, your eyes following the glide of your hand across the paper.

Shaking his head, he turned back to his own worksheet, an unstoppable smile spreading across his lips as he got to writing.

It was February now, and Steve still had no luck when it came to you. 

Friday was Valentine’s Day, and that’s when an idea struck Steve.

Valentines.

Enlisting Dustin’s help, the two of them spent the whole night bringing Steve’s idea to life. All that was left was making sure it got you to laugh.

The clock struck 7:45, and the first warning bell rang out in the halls. Making his way to the classroom, Steve pulled out the green envelope that had your name written across it.

Setting it on your desk, he dropped his books on his desk and headed out to the bathroom. 

You walked in, handing in your homework to your teacher before moving on to your desk. Noticing the green envelope from afar, you glanced around the room, looking to see where Steve was.

Not here. Weird.

Placing your books on the desk, you pulled out the card nestled inside the envelope. You glanced up to see if Steve had walked in, but still, nothing.

On the front of the card was a pink dinosaur, smiling while surrounded by a bunch of doodled hearts. Opening it up, you found another version of the dinosaur holding a sign. It read “I’m en-Raptored by you!”. 

You bit your tongue back as you smiled at the Valentine’s card, shaking your head as you slipped it back inside the envelope.

Right then, Steve walked back into the room, and spotted the green stationary in your hand. He dashed across the room, almost tripping over his own two feet trying to get to his desk. 

You looked over at him, smiling dissipating as he met your gaze.

“Please tell me you didn’t open it yet,” he said, eyes wide as he waited for you to answer.

You said nothing as you merely opened up one of your books, and slipped the envelope in.

“Seriously? Nothing?” He groaned in frustration, the ringing bell drowning out his anguish as you turned back to face the board, trying your best to fight back the smile threatening to take over.

So close.

Graduation was only a couple weeks away, and Steve was getting nowhere with you.

Every day, he showed up to class with a few jokes up his sleeve, and yet, nothing. 

At one point he questioned if you had a heart and a soul, which still earned him no response.

As he grew more and more desperate, you began to wonder if it was time to end his torment.

After all, it had been four years. Graduation was only weeks away, and you figured maybe it was time to make good use of Steve’s bet.

Another Friday morning, and Steve was about thirty seconds away from giving up.

But just one more time. It’s all or nothing, Steve thought to himself as he saw you walk in. Sitting up straighter in his seat, he ran a hand through his hair, focusing his gaze on the chalkboard as you took your seat next to him.

“Never seen you come in so close to the bell - you pick up some new friends at the bookstore last night?”

“No, but I’m sure you could do with some.” As Steve’s jaw dropped at hearing you fire back at him, you didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing your facial expressions as he laughed, shaking his head.

“I thought I’d be dead before I heard you talk to me!” 

“When’s the party, Harrington? I need to get this over with,” You were focused on your planner, but you could feel Steve staring at you.

“You being serious? You’ll actually do it?”

You glanced over at him and nodded, smiling as you heard him congratulate himself on succeeding. 

“My place, 9:30pm, tomorrow night. Solid?” 

“Yeah.”

The last thing on Steve’s mind as graduation loomed overhead was love.

And yet here he was, anxiously waiting on the edge of his seat for you to show up at the party.

The music was blaring, people were drinking, and all he could think about was how elated he was that he’d finally gotten something out of you. A smile and a sarcastic remark, all in one.

How lucky was he.

After all this time, and he’d finally won. Steve was still a little hazy as to why this made him feel so… content, but he pushed away the thought as he downed the last of his drink.

As he set down his cup, he heard the doorbell ring. 

Everything around him seemed to freeze in motion as he made his way to the door, his heartbeat loud in his ears.

On the other side of the door, he found you with a twelve pack of beer in one hand, a bag of chips in the other, and a flower tucked behind your ear.

“I come bearing gifts for King Steve,” You said loudly, gently shoving the twelve pack into Steve’s grasp as you walked into the foyer. 

“You know me so well!” He said, rushing to catch up to you as you threaded your way through the loud crowd of drunken classmates.

Propping yourself up on the kitchen island, you watched as Steve put away the beer in a cooler, his cheeks flushed red from the rising temperature of the growing crowd.

“C’mere,” He shouted over the loud music, taking your hand in his.

You didn’t protest, following him up the stairs, his grip tight as he tried not to lose you.

He pulled you into his bedroom, and for a moment, you almost started to panic.

“Harrington, what’re we doing-” 

“Here,” He pointed to the window opposite you. “Figured if we were finally gonna talk, we might as well do it where we can hear each other,”

Steve opened the window and stuck his leg out, gathering balance before sticking his hand out to you. 

“You scared of sitting on the roof or what?” You shook your head now, and took his hand.

Leaning right up against the ledge of his window, you finally sat down next to Steve, and handed him the bag of chips you had been holding this whole time.

“Is this my prize for winning the bet?” He asked, grinning when you rolled your eyes.

“Your prize for winning was me coming to this party, Harrington. The chips are my way of coping with the fact that I’m actually here now,” 

As the two of you each took a handful out of the bag and looked up at the starry night sky, your mind couldn’t help but wonder why Steve was so adamant about talking to you.

After all, it wasn’t like you’d ever said or done anything that could’ve piqued his interest.

Dropping the last chip in his mouth, Steve dusted off his hands on the sides of his jeans.

“You wanna know something?” he asked, his eyes still star gazing. 

“Sure,” You replied, poking a finger at the remaining chips in your palm.

“I can’t believe it took me almost seven months to get a smile out of you,” he chuckled softly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he dropped his gaze from the sky. “I don’t even know why I cared so much,” he whispered, running a hand through his hair. 

“Because you just had to win, Steve,” You mumbled, laughing gently as you hugged your knees to your chest, resting your head on top. 

“It’s… it can’t be just that though, can it?” Steve sighed, brushing back a stray piece of hair off his cheek. 

“Well, what else could it be?”

You looked over at him, and he looked at you, and for a brief moment, everything around you; the sounds of drunk teenagers, insects, and blaring music ceased to exist as you looked at one another. 

As if you were mesmerized by each other. 

Without hesitation, you both leaned in, your eyes still focused on one another’s; Steve’s breath mixing with yours as your foreheads met, barely touching. 

“Living love in slow motion, are we?” You whispered breathlessly, your lips brushing against Steve’s as he laughed.

“Let me kiss you already,” He retorted, not letting you answer him as he finally pressed his lips against yours, his hands suddenly pressed to your cheeks, your hand resting on his chest.

You break away first, cheeks flushed with heat as you tried to catch your breath.

“By the way… you won in February. I… I just didn’t say anything because I thought you’d get bored of me,” You shrugged your shoulders, dropping your gaze from Steve’s as he just tilted his head.

“I could never get bored of you, sweetheart,” He said, cupping your cheek gingerly as he leaned in and gave you another kiss. “After all, the night is still wide open.”

can’t tag everyone as i’m in a rush but here’s a few: 

@jurassicbarnes @mercedesbarnes @thorsxodinson @messybitchjuice @bittergoldilocks @ahoyfandoms @spidey-pal @harringtonsbaseballbat @schwankyblock @okaybutsteveharrington @nancethebadass @madeinthemidnightmemories @sadhwstudent @fragcc @bifrostythor 

[whizzer-fashion]

Iced Vanilla Latte With Two Pumps Of Caramel

AO3 LINK

Even though Marvin always acted as though he hated his job and would never turn down an opportunity to rant about it, he had to admit, at least to himself, that it was quite nice most of the time. There weren't that many people most of the time, and even when there was it wasn't as bad as he made it sound. He used most of the time to talk to his two best friends Trina and Charlotte and do homework.

So yeah if he was honest with himself he had a pretty great job, just not today…

He was looking at the boy putting down his tote bag while smiling big at the girl with the big curls he often came in with.

He had thought for a long time that they were together until he had heard the guy or “Whizzer” as he got scribbled on his large vanilla ice-coffee with two pumps of caramel, complain about some guy “cof boy” oblivious being straight.

Even though Marvin always acted as though he hated his job and would never turn down an opportunity to rant about it, he had to admit, at least to himself, that it was quite nice most of the time.

There weren't that many people most of the time, and even when there was it wasn't as bad as he made it sound.

He used most of the time to talk to his two best friends Trina and Charlotte and do homework. 

So yeah if he was honest with himself he had a pretty great job, just not today…

He was looking at the boy putting down his tote bag while smiling big at the girl with the big curls he often came in with.

He had thought for a long time that they were together until he had heard the guy or “ Whizzer ” as he got scribbled on his large vanilla ice-coffee with two pumps of caramel, complain about some guy “cof boy” oblivious being straight. 

Whizzer, it had to be a fake name right? 

A nickname or just a name that he gave to places like this to get a laugh?

No parent in their right mind would name their child after a cartoon sound, right?

Yeah, Marvin had a lot of questions this early February morning. 

But the most pressing one was WHAT THE FUCK WAS WHIZZER DOING AT THE COFFEE SHOP TODAY!? 

The pretty, tall boy with the gorgeous hair and the most adorable smile in probably the whole world, never came in here on weekdays he came in once a week, every Sunday morning at 7:45 am. 

Of course, Marvin didn't have a problem with this, that would be completely ridiculous. The guy was just a customer, nothing more, he was certainly not the only good thing with the early Sunday shift that he was permanently assigned, and he was certainly not Marvins type, ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Okay so maybe this was a problem, he normally spent the whole morning before he arrived preparing himself for Whizzer to walk through those doors.

Whizzer shook his head at the girl while laughing before walking up to the register, Marvin was still spellbound by the sound of his laugh when he reached him. 

“Hi, How may I help you today?” they didn't actually have to say stuff like that to the customer, but it helped him when talking to Whizzer, Charlotte gave him a weird look, she doesn’t have the Sunday opening shift and wasn’t used to seeing him like this.

“Hi” queue that adorably smile “can I get a large Iced vanilla latte with two pumps of caramel and a medium normal caramel latte for Whizzer? Thank you.” Marvin thought that he could have asked for the moon and Marvin would probably have gotten it for him if just he promised to smile at him like that again. Not that he had stoped that was the thing with Whizzer he never seemed to stop smiling at Marvin he probably never stopped smiling at anyone but that included Marvin and he was eternally grateful for that.

“Of course that will be 11 dollars” Marvin could reenact this interaction in his sleep, he had thought enough about this small interaction to have had it memorized for about 2 months now. 

Whizzer swiped his card, dug his hands down into his jacket pocket, fished some pocket change out and dumped them into the tip jar, gave an extra smile before he turned around and found his way back to his friend.

Marv again tried to convince himself that he was fine with Whizzer being here a day when he wasn’t supposed to and began scribbling down the orders on the cups, not that he needed to he could with ease remember them at this point, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep the elusion for Whizzer.

he was supposed to pass the cups on to Charlotte but she was doing homework and there weren’t any other customers than Whizzer and Cor-something, he hadn’t been as captivated by her. She was pretty even Marvin could see that, but he had probably been a little distracted by her friend.

He looked over at their table to see Whizzer laughing and the girl blushing she looked at Charlotte and then backed at Whizzer and started to lecture him on something, but she kept stealing glances at Charlotte,

oh of course!

He went over to the coffee machine, this place wasn’t really a real coffee shop per se, they didn’t make fresh coffee they just had a big complicated coffee machine, he put Whizzers cup in first and began pressing his order in, he leaned over to Charlotte and casual said “I think the girl at the table with boy likes you” Charlotte head whipped up, she looked over the bar and at table “no way” Marvin rolled his eyes “yes way, you should go say hi!” Charlotte laughed “NO WAY MARV!” she realized how loud she had been, and hurriedly looked back at her book.

Marvin chuckled and took the now two finished cups of coffee and was just about to carry them over to the table when he got an idea. Even though would never be able to get with Whizzer didn’t mean that Charlotte didn’t deserve a happy ending.

Marvin turned back to Charlotte “do you like her?” he asked her, she looked up at him like he had just asked her if he could live without oxygen “I don’t know her, but if you’re asking me if I find her attractive then yes.” Marv nodded waited to she was looking down again then he took one of the order notes and wrote Charlotte’s number down.

If it failed he could just say it was revenge for her refusing to take his shift the last time when he been hungover.

He then began his journey over to the table, as he was nearing, he couldn’t help but overhear a little bit of their conversation “I’m only asking her if you finally ask cof boy out” “that’s not fair she literally is in the LGBT club and he’s straight”.

Whizzer saw Marvin nearing their table and promptly shut up, and was that a blush? No, it must just have been from the cold it was February after all. “Here you go a vanilla ice coffee with two pumps of caramel and a caramel latte” he placed the coffee down in front of their respective owners and then turned towards the girl he didn’t want to even look at Whizzer while doing this, “and a phone number from my coworker, whos too embarrassed to look up from her book”

He gave her a smile and was about turn around and go back to the bar and try desperately to not lose the battle between his eyes and Whizzes body when he heard Whizzer clear his throat he turned around to look at the pretty boy, “I’m sorry this is probably the last thing you want to be asked right now, and you’re probably not interested and this is really stupid-” the girl decided to help her friend out “he wants to know if you would be interested to go out with him, he has the biggest crush on you ever” Marvin’s brain was in shock and Whizzers finally seemed to stop being in shock because he exclaimed “Cordelia!” and looked at her like she had just said that he had been planning to use a time machine and join Hitler under the 2 world war, he then looked panicked back at Marvin “you really don't have to! And I get that you’re probably straight and I completely get it don’t worry, you don’t even have to answer you can just walk away and I promise to never step into this coffee shop again.”

this somehow made Marvins brain restart again bc he began to blush deep, “I would love to.” was what he finally interrupted Whizzer with. “Wait really” Whizzer sounded so soft and shocked like he was afraid that he would ruin it if he was too loud. “Yeah” Marvin took an order note from his pocket and in a kinda trance wrote down “pls call me -Marvin” and scribbled his number under it, he gave it to Whizzer, smiled at him and walked back to the bar.

He was still trying to figure out what had happened, he looked over at Whizzer and it seemed he was trying to do the same, Whizzer was sitting there with that smile of his looking at the paper, while the girl Cordelia was giggling. 

Charlotte looked at him like he was crazy for the third time that day “are you okay there  Marv?” he turned and smiled at her “I just got us a date”.

[skysterriblescribbles]

Part 1

The only reason Denki got out of his school-issued bed this morning was thanks to the ever-handy alarm vibrating itself off of his bedside table and onto the floor, making itself out of reach.

He shivered when his foot hit the cold wooden floor, making him even colder. The blond picked up his phone and glanced at the time.

3:00 am

Perfect.

Denki stretched his arms up arching his back. Satisfied with now awake muscles, he headed to his bathroom.

He showered and brushed his teeth. His blond hair was now held back by some clips. Gone were his pajamas, replaced by an old t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and some shorts.

If you asked anybody in his class, they would say that his room is probably not cleaned, that it would be the epitome of a teenaged boys living space.

But that isn't the case with Kaminari. He like to keep everything nice and organized. Shelves for his books, yes he reads, more than you would think, fairy lights were pinned against the walls, just below the ceiling.

He likes order and the peace that comes with it.

Denki started his routine, a deep stretch to start off the day, first warmup the arms, the the legs and after his stretching finished it was 4:30.

He opened the door to his dorm room slowly, like normal. He would never forgive himself if he woke up a classmate at these ungodly hours of the morning.

He wandered down the hall and entered the stairwell.

Never skip leg day, he thought to himself, bouncing down the steps.

On the usual days, the common room and kitchen are empty. Sometimes the occasional Tokoyami or the resident embodiment of IcyHot. Or the insomniacs that spend all night in the common space, mainly Midoriya or Shinsou. He had always managed to slip by his classmates unnoticed.

But today it was just him by his lonesome. The large space was dark, the only light source was from the light pole outside.

Denki strolled over to the kitchen area. Today they had hero training which allowed him a small breakfast. He settled on a boiled egg. 90 cal, leaving 110 for dinner. He didn't eat lunch.

He ate in small bites, taking too long to chew each piece. Finishing his meal, Denki headed to the door, grabbing his running shoes and putting them on before leaving the building.

Things were hard the first few weeks of living here. He had to readjust his schedule to fit within the curfew the school enforced.

He couldn't leave any earlier 5 in the morning and 11 at night. It threw his running off for a while, him being used to midnight runs to burn off the stubborn fat that seemed to pile up in his thighs and stomach.

His run lasted 30 minutes, like always and he slipped back into the dorms. This time the commons was occupied by another, Iida Tenya.

He usually was back in his room before anyone else began their morning exercise, so Denki walked quietly, trying to avoid confrontation with the boy.

But like everything else in his life, he failed.

"K-kaminari! You frightened me. What are you doing this early?"

He froze. So far he's been able to keep up his "I'm lazy and never put effort into anything" facade. It's made it so much easier to keep attention off himself.

Think Denki.

He looked over at the class president and smiled, "Oh hey class prez! I was takin some pics of the sun rise for my insta! It's hella pretty, you should check it out." He said with a cheery voice then waved at the boy and left as fast as he could.

I hate talking to people, he thought.

Once back in the safety of his room he fetched a fresh school uniform and jumped in the shower, taking extra time to scrub his skin raw.

Now 6:45, he had an hour until he had to head to class.

He finished his homework from the night before, then plopped down on his bed and spent the remained of his morning scrolling through his tumblr feed, rebloging some thinspo he liked and some workout routines.

At 7:55 he left his room, knowing he was going to be late. But he doesn't care. He never paid any attention in class anyway.

Denki walked alone to class, and entered a few minutes after the bell rang.

Everyone paused and looked at him, today is so not going to be good.

With a blank stare he looked at his homeroom teacher. "Sorry Aizawa-sensei, I didn't wake up on time." And lazily walked to his desk and sat down.

Fuck. I shouldn't of eaten breakfast.

--------

The day passes by without any other hiccups, so when the bell rang signaling that lunch had started, Denki felt a little better than he had earlier.

Kirishima walk up to the blonde like normal.

"Hey Kami, you ready to head out? Mina's gonna go with Bakugo to review for the quiz next period." He smiled at the boy and scratched his neck.

"Dude I totally forgot about that. Ugh I'll just wing it, ya know?" He flashed a brighter, faker, smile at the red head.

And with that the two boys left the room and made their way to the cafeteria. Denki walked to their table and saw Sero already seated and eating.

Denki sat in front of him and took his phone out, opening tumblr and scrolled through his dashboard.

After a few days minutes, Kirishima joined them with his lunch. Today was American style food, and Kirishima got a hamburger with fries.

Denki's mouth watered at the sight of the food until the smell hit him, making his stomach growl loud, but still quiet enough to be hidden by the noise of the room.

He grabbed his water bottle out of his bag and chugged the whole thing.

"Damn Kami, thirsty much?" Kirishima laughed at the boy. But Denki was to distracted by the rumble inside him. The want, the need to eat.

He opened the Google app on his phone and searched for calories in a hamburger.

354 calories, 154 over my limit.

Your fucking disgusting, Kaminari. You don't deserve that many calories. Such a waste.

Denki could feel this breath picking up. His surroundings blurred and his focus was on one thing.

Shit, why did I eat this morning? He thought. He looked at his wrists, they were so small and fragile in his uniform. He reached his hand to his collarbone and dragged his hand along the protruding bone. It felt so good.

But never good enough.

He thought that if he were to touch his thighs, he'd puke. So he settled for just looking.

"Kami.."

He saw how much space they took up.

Repulsive.

"Kaminari!"

He saw how they touched when he sat down.

How disgusting.

He jumped when a hand was put on his shoulder. He looked at the appendage with shakey eyes. Kirishima.

"Hey bro are you okay? I've been calling your name for a while. You look pale, are you sick?" Denki saw. The furrowed brows, the worry in his eyes, the hesitation in his voice.

Denki stood up. And gathered his stuff.

"Tell sensei I don't feel good, I'm going to my room." The blonde said, then he ran out of the seeming even louder room.

He ran down the stairs to the first floor, breath wild, tunnel vision setting in. He ran past Bakugo and Mina, who finished their tutoring.

He reached the dorms and kicked his shoes off, not bothering to put them in their spot properly.

He didn't even remember the trip up to his room, doesn't remember locking the door behind him. He doesn't know how he ended up emptying his already empty stomach in the toilet.

He just remember the egg.

------

That's how the boy found himself a few hours later, passed out on the bathroom floor, the smell of bile still hanging in the air.

He got up of the floor and looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was out of place from sleeping, but the bags under his eyes would speak for the quality of his rest.

He exited the bathroom and groggily walked into his dark room. He fetched his phone from his school bag and checked the time.

3:50 PM

That meant his classmates were done with classes and heading to the building, since hero training always ran late.

Speaking of training since he wasn't in class and couldn't participate, Denki still needed to burn off the calories from this morning.

It had been a while since he had worked out on his own, since hero class satisfied most of his exercise cravings. He scrambled through his desk got a bit before he found the paper.

There were 3 levels of routine he had written. The first was a light workout, the second was his previous daily one and the third was a super intense routine.

He decided on the latter.

He stretched for a warm up and began his workout.

Arms, abs, and legs he all work, pushing his body to the max and then some.

You need to work harder. You lazy piece of shit.

He drank more water, getting ready to repeat the list again when he heard a knock at his door.

"Go away. I don't want to talk to anyone." Denki thought. But the knocking persisted. He wiped his mouth and tried to collect his breathing.

He opened the door to the class president.

"Kaminari! I hope you are feeling better, Kirishima told us you felt ill? Please do take better care of yourself." The boy spouted.

He was too tired to be happy. How could he get through this?

"I'm sorry, Iida. I just need some rest and I'll be better." Denki said with blank eyes. He motioned to close the door but was stopped.

"You should talk to Kirishima, he's really worried about you." Iida adds. And with that the blue haired boy left.

Denki closed the door and returned to his exercise. Yeah right. Like someone as cool as Kirishima would worry about him.

------

When 6 rolled around, Denki ignored his phone when it lit up, indicating a new notification.

He knew it was the class group chat telling everyone that dinner was ready and that everyone should head to the commons.

Instead, the blond changed into a pair of loose sweatpants, which at this point everything was baggy on him and switched off all his lights.

Might as well go to sleep early, not like anyone needs me.

----

Something was wrong with Kaminari Denki.

Or that's what Kirishima had come to conclude.

These last few weeks of living in the dorms he had noticed a difference in his friend, but couldn't quite figure it out yet.

At first, he chalked it up to living in a new space, with 19 new neighbors. Everyone was a little apprehensive at first. But everyone had gotten used to the changes throughout the first 2 weeks.

But what happened during lunch was new. It was as if Kaminari was a different person.

But the thing Kirishima hated the most was the expression on his friends face.

He looked so...

Empty.

Something is wrong with his best friend and he'll figure it out.

The question is whether he makes it in time.

---------

I cant. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't.

Fuck.

His mouth tasted like old medicine and his stomach felt heavy. Already were tears bubbling in his eyes, threatening to break the tension and pour hot tears down his face.

Immediately he made way to the bathroom, delivering dry heaves into the toilet.

His limbs pinned him to the floor, like weights. His mind was too clouded to think or move. The only thing he could register before passing out was the tears spilling down his cheeks and rolled down his face with gravity.

------

The first thing he remembered when he woke up was that there was classes today.

Denki forces himself off the floor and back into his bedroom, a quick glance at his clock telling him it was well into the day, morning classes would be over soon.

"Fuck it I'll go to the afternoon classes then." He mutters. He throws on his uniform, reaching for his phone only to see the thing is dead.

Denki decided to just leave the phone and heads out.

He gets to the main building when the lunch bell rings, allowing hungry students to flood the halls. The blond waits outside for a bit to let the hallways clear out before starting his trip to the 1-A classroom.

Pleased to find the room empty, he takes his seat and decides to sleep until lunch was over.

In the quiet of the room, you could hear grumbling, a plea.

It's okay, he's not hungry.

---------

[stevennguyen]

Week 4 Blog: Social Media Experiment

My Usual Amount of Social Media Access

The amount of times I use social media on a regular day in my life is large. Generally, I’d say in a day I spend about 3-4 hours just on the main social media platforms like Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok. I got this information from the social media log assignment we did earlier in the week. Every single morning when I wake up, the first thing I do is check my phone/social media. Then throughout the day, I would check my phone every chance I get. This usually happens a lot when I’m doing homework. Finally, I am on my phone again just before I go to bed. I feel like a large part of me using social media is because of sports. I like to read posts about sports and once I’m looking at any type of social media, my mind begins to bounce. This is why I spend hours on social media in a day.

Leaving Social Media Behind Experiment

Originally my plan for this experiment was to completely shut out social media for the entire day. But about 4 hours in, I caved. So from that point, I decided to do intervals of 4 hours of social media-free time. In this experiment, I decided to only account for the times I used on the main social media platforms. I didn’t count for calls, texts, etc. because I feel like they don’t qualify as social media. Overall, it was really hard to accomplish but it turned out well for me. 

I start my day at 8:00 A.M. in the and spent about 15 minutes to check my social media. I wouldn’t touch my phone for social media for the next 4 hours. I got a lot of work done in those 4 hours. By noon, I felt the urge to check any new notifications, so I went on social media for about 30 minutes. After my little social media break, I would go on for another 4 hours without social media. I used the time for homework. Once it was around 4:00 PM, I went on another short social media break. After about 15 minutes, another 4 hours without it, and then it was about 8:00 PM. This was going to be my last time using social media for the night, so I was on it for about 45 minutes. I was in bed by 10:00 PM.

Results and Conclusion

Overall this was a cool experience and I found it to be very beneficial to me. During my 4 hours without social media, I was more productive. I got a lot of work done since I wasn’t getting distracted every 30 minutes or so. Another benefactor was sleep. Sometimes social media can consume my nights and I wouldn’t go to bed till about like 2:00 AM. But with this experiment, I slept pretty well and was energized when I woke up the next day. Overall, I think my lifestyle just improved with this experiment and I actually might adopt it in my daily routine.