#nevermind i’m getting banned if i speak

[leopardom]

*insert incoherent screaming*

[writing-intheundercroft]

when you know, you know

Read on AO3

Word Count: 7,169

Rating: T (just some smooches)

Summary: You and Garreth Weasley aren't on speaking terms, not since you were caught stealing billywig stings for him and subsequently banned from Honeydukes.

But the dawn of your sixth year brings a potion brewing contest, and you might finally have a chance to put him in his place.

A/N: Happy first birthday, Hogwarts Legacy! The HL discord server I'm in came up with the theme of One Year Later, and this is my submission. Thankful for all the lovely people I've met through this fandom, who encourage me to write every day <3

“Welcome to your sixth year of potions,” Professor Sharp says gruffly, leaning against his desk. “I hope you’re all prepared to start exploring the theories of potion composition, and have read the first five chapters of your textbook over the summer holidays as instructed.”

Sebastian groans next to you, flipping open his book.  You snort, craning your neck around the room to assess your classmates. 

Everett, Sacharissa, Andrew, Nastai, Poppy, and Grace–all of them still have the post-summer slump, faces glum as they wished to be free of the potions dungeon. At the station next to you, Leander looks ready to fall asleep.  He was practically using his fingers to keep his eyeballs open during the double potions period.

Next to Leander, you can’t help noticing Garreth Weasley.  It's unusual to see him so engaged; Garreth is normally the class clown, always trying to figure out a way to disrupt the lesson.  Instead, he’s sitting stick straight, scribbling every word Sharp had to say.  His notes were neatly organized, ingredients for the day’s brew already portioned out and chopped.

“What’s gotten into Weasley?” you whisper to Sebastian.

Sebastian scoffs. “Oh, he’s probably trying to get on Sharp’s good side, with the potion making contest coming up.”

“What contest?” You ask, albeit a bit too loud.

“I was just getting to that point,” Sharp says your name; the entire class had turned their attention to the two of you. Even Garreth was staring, despite the iciness between the two of you.  It’s been months since you last spoke, exchanging choice words in a shouting match after he’d gotten you banned from Honeydukes.  After all, he was the one who’d assured you Mr. Flume wouldn’t be home, and that it wouldn’t be too difficult to steal the billywig stings.

Nevermind that, you think, turning your attention back to Sharp’s lecture.

“Every year, I challenge the sixth year class to create a new potion,” Sharp drawls. “Many of the students who’ve won in the past have gone on to become some of the Hogwarts’s most successful potioneers.  The winner of the contest will receive after hours access to the potions classroom, unlimited usage of the ingredient cupboard, and their name included on the plaque in the trophy room.” he explains.

Sharp continues droning on about the rules; you feel Sebastian’s breath tickle your ear “Garreth’s been assuming he’ll win since we were second years,” he whispers. “I’d love to see you put him in his place.”

You swat at the freckled brunette, who lets out another audible chuckle.  Scanning the room again, your eyes briefly make contact with Garreth’s.  He looks at you with something fierce in his eyes; it’s almost threatening, you think.  He also looks a tad bit deflated, but considering the two of you aren’t friends anymore, you don’t really care to know why.

“Sure, I’ll enter.” You say loudly enough for Garreth to hear. “I’m sure it’ll be a clean sweep.”

Garreth’s eyes turn to slits before he refocuses on his notes.  His face is turning red as he scribbles on the parchment, and you can’t help feeling a bit satisfied at his reaction.  Suits him right, you think, for being such a coward. You’re going to kick his ass and get back for the ten detentions he bought you last year.

Sharp’s NEWT level class is just as painful as you’d imagined it would be.  Sacharissa nearly slices her own finger off trying to cut open a sopophorous bean, and Everett faints from the blood.  Andrew sends his own bean flying across the room, thwacking Natty in the forehead; it incites a verbal altercation that has the two nearly come to blows before Sharp can separate them.  You and Sebastian can’t help but laugh watching them, falling dreadfully behind in your own quest to brew a draught of living death.

“Look at those prats,” Sebastian nudges you. 

You look over at the two redheads adjacent to you–they’re working diligently, ignoring the dramatics of the classroom.  Garreth is clearly guiding the process, Leander eagerly observing him as he chops and stirs. They’re the only two students in the classroom even remotely close to brewing the potion correctly, and it’s a little surprising to you that Garreth would be so tame. 

He tilts his head, copper colored hair falling in front of his eyes. His hair is longer, shaggier than last year. You also can’t ignore how much larger his forearms are, probably from detentions spent lifting the cauldrons to and from the storage room. They’re thick and freckled, a dusting of hair—

Garreth turns his head, glaring at you. You’ve been blatantly staring at him for a whole minute now.

“Oi, get it together, woman.” Sebastian chides, snapping his fingers in front of your eyes. “I don’t think your cauldron is supposed to be purple—“

“Dammit!” You curse, turning back to your own brew. .  Sebastian laughs as you thwack him on the shoulder, stirring your potion.  It’s no good–the brew has turned the wrong color, and now resembles a fudgy texture.

“So much for winning the competition,” Sebastian teases you.  Your face heats up with embarrassment as Sharp walks over to your cauldron, assessing your work. 

“Better luck next time, I suppose.” Sharp says gruffly, raising his eyebrows at the thick goop. 

As expected, Garreth and Leander win the day’s best brew.  It takes twice as long as usual for you to scrub your cauldron, cheeks red from both embarrassment and the extra elbow grease you have to put in.  Sebastian, despite his promises to stay as long as he can, has already abandoned you to get to lunch ahead of the rush.  At this rate, you’ll miss lunch entirely.

“You should really throw some ashwinder eggshells in there.”

Looking up, you see Garreth standing a few feet away, his hands shoved into his pockets.  In lieu of the traditional blazer, he’s gone a bit casual with a crimson and gold Gryffindor sweater.  It looks a tad tight on him, and well worn.  Likely a hand-me-down from one of his many older brothers, you think.

“Mixed with water, they’re quite abrasive.  It’ll help with the cleaning.” Garreth suggests, shrugging his bag onto his shoulder.

“So, we’re talking again.” your tone is flippant; you scrub even harder at the baked in potion caking your cauldron.

Garreth rolls his eyes, dropping his bag to the ground. “Let me help,” he says gruffly, elbowing you out of the way.  He takes a handful of ashwinder eggshells, sprinkling it into your cauldron.  You peer over the edge as he dribbles water inside.

“Now put on your dragonhide gloves,” Garreth advises. “Don’t want to get burned, do you?”

You do as instructed, slipping the gloves on.  Garreth hands you the wire brush again, and this time the sludge slides off the edges of the cauldron with ease.

“See? Not so bad.” 

You open your mouth to thank him, but Garreth has stepped away from your station.  Bag in hand, he gives you a wary look.

“Earlier, when you were staring,” Garreth trails off.

“I wasn’t staring.” you scoff.  In reality, you were , but that’s not the point.

“You were,” Garreth countered. “You weren’t trying any funny mind tricks, were you?  I’d heard a rumor that you and Sallow were trying to study legilimency–”

Eyebrow raised, you cross your gloved arms. “Why on earth would I need to read your mind, Weasley?”

“To steal my potion recipe.” Garreth blurted, eyes narrowed. “For the contest.  You’re trying to win, I overheard you and Sallow talking about entering.”

You scoff in his face. “Why would I need to steal a recipe from you ?”

Garreth straightened, pushing his copper hair out of his eyes. “Because everyone knows that I,” jerking his thumb towards himself, “am going to win.  I’ve been planning my submission since I was a first year, and I’m not about to lose to you.” 

Whatever warmth you thought Garreth Weasley was going to give you is long gone. You lean back over your pewter cauldron, scrubbing aggressively.

“I can’t believe you’d think I’d stoop so low, Garreth.” You seeth. “You know what? Just for that, I am going to enter Sharp’s contest now–and I’m going to kick your ass.”

“Like hell you are,” Garreth huffs, leering down at you. You hadn’t noticed just how tall he’d gotten over the summer–

Focus, you remind yourself, eyes flitting away from his form.

“What are you two still doing in my classroom?”

You and Garreth spin around, almost knocking your cauldron over in the process.  An exhausted looking Sharp stands in the doorway, his palm on his head.

“Not you two,” he mutters. “I had a feeling the two of you would be battling it out for best brew.” 

“We were just comparing notes, sir.” Garreth says easily, backing away from you. “She needed help cleaning her cauldron.”

“Not your best work today,” Sharp reminds you, peering into your now sparkling clean cauldron. “The two of you should be off to lunch, or else you’ll miss the meal.”

“Yes sir,” the two of you chirp in unison.  Garreth takes his leave while you’re stowing your cauldron away, and he’s nowhere to be seen once you get to the Great Hall for lunch.  You want to fight, defend yourself against his accusations, but it doesn’t look like he’ll give you the chance.

His loss , you think, meandering over to your house table.  

The first month of classes has been hell.  While you’d pictured your sixth year to be quite leisurely with the extra free periods, you’ve spent every study hall cooped up in the library, buried in your books.  Despite passing last term with flying colors, it feels like you’re going to spend your entire life catching up to your classmates. You might be the hero of Hogwarts, but you still feel stupid in History of Magic, stumbling over your words.

You’re cursing to yourself as you run through the streets of Hogsmeade, trying to make it to J Pippin’s before closing.  Sharp’s potions contest has fallen to the bottom of your priorities, but the events of lunch earlier in the day have pushed you to work on your submission. You’d been sitting at the table with Sebastian and Ominis, lamenting over your shared arithmancy assignment when Garreth and Leander walked into the Great Hall, loud cheers and whoops coming from the Gryffindor table.  They were sopping wet, hair windswept, having just tested Garreth’s potion submission.

“No one will be able to beat him,” Leander had declared loudly, rustling Garreth’s long red hair. Garreth was grinning broadly, a gaggle of fifth year girls surrounding him in awe.  That alone was irksome; as if they really knew Garreth Weasley.  

“Since when did Garreth Weasley become the hottest commodity?” Ominis asked, tilting his chin in his palm.

Sebastian took a sip of his pumpkin juice, snorting. “Probably because he grew five inches over the holidays,” he joked. “Lost the pudge too.”

“Sebastian,” you warned, flicking him in the head. “Don’t be so cruel.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, shrugging. “It’s true,” he argued. “Anyways, I can’t wait to watch you put him in his place during the potions competition.  Do you have your brew ready?”

“Of course I do,” You lied, turning back to your parchment. “Don’t be silly.”

In actuality, you didn’t have your brew ready whatsoever–you’d spent the last month tinkering with several recipes, but nothing seemed good enough for submission.  With potions due tomorrow, you’ll have to spend the rest of your day working on the brew.  The rest of your classes for the day go unattended, spending the afternoon cooped up in the Room of Requirement to draft a recipe.  Nothing seems to be working, and you’re out of focus potions.  You could brew them up yourself, but perhaps some fresh air and a walk will do you good–therein, a trip to J Pippin’s was necessary.

The bell rings as you push the door in, Parry Pippin smiling at you from the register.  You entertain his small talk, questions about your summer holidays, all while anxiously checking your pocket watch for the time.  You still had your arithmancy homework, as well as a four foot scroll due in Transfiguration next week to work on–

“You haven’t run into Mr. Weasley, have you?”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you look up at Parry. “No, I haven’t.” you say sharply, taking the carefully wrapped package full of focus potions that he’s packed into your arms. “Why would I?”

Pippin clicks his tongue. “I’m fresh out of the stench of the dead, that’s all.  Mr. Weasley was trying to purchase some more for his potions project.  Nasty business, procurement.  It’s hard to find a supplier that’ll face up to the inferi in the first place.” The register opens, and he begins counting your change. “I recommended he reach out to you for assistance.”

You blink at the shopkeeper. “Me?” 

“Well of course,” Pippin snorts. “You’re rather fearless, aren’t you?  Not that it matters, of course, he was quite put off by the suggestion.  Asked me where he could find them, and I pointed out an old abandoned treasure cave a few miles north, up in the valley.  Can always find them lurking around there.”

“I’m sorry , you directed a student to an inferi den?” You gape.

Pippin looks at you, eyebrows raised. “Don’t they teach you how to fight them and what not?  Isn’t that what Defense Against the Dark Arts is for?  Anywho, Mr. Weasley seemed rather confident in his abilities.  Think he was a bit embarrassed that I recommended he ask a girl for help.”

You block out whatever Pippin is saying, tucking the package under your arm as you leave the shop.  While it’s not your responsibility to look after Garreth (considering recent events and his rather frosty attitude towards you) you can’t help feeling a bit worried.  Most students don’t have much experience with the undead; you only have a basic grasp on battling them due to Sebastian’s shenanigans the year prior. Inferi are tough, even for most grown adults to deal with; any wound inflicted by one can render even the strongest wizard ill.  

The sun is beginning to set, and while you know you should head straight back to the Room of Requirement to work on your contest brew, you turn towards the path north.  You’re certain you’ve visited the treasure den Pippin is talking about before, and it won’t hurt to check.  If the clearing is empty, you’ve just gotten extra exercise for the day.  If not–well, you don’t want to think about that quite yet.

You’ve forgotten how long the trek to the Hogsmeade Valley is, feet aching as you stumble over the rocky terrain. You bet that even if Garreth has gone to hunt the inferi, he’s likely given up by now, gone back to the castle already.  You doubt Garreth wants to battle the inferi–he’s always had a distaste for dueling, preferring to watch everyone battle it out during Crossed Wands rather than participate.  

You swallow thickly, trying to push the image of Garreth fighting the undead out of your mind. Despite your anger towards him, you really don’t want him to go up against something he’s not ready for just to win a stupid class contest.

The sky is dark by the time you round out the hill.  From a distance, you can see the wooden arch to the old treasure den, and to your relief, nothing is disturbed. You’re about to turn on your heel to go back to the floo Upper Hogsfield when you sniff the familiar putrid stench of inferi.  Your blood runs cold when you hear a familiar groan, and then anxious yelps.

“ Diffindo !  Ah, shit!” 

You drop your parcel in the long grass, disappearing into a blue wisp as you close the distance between yourself and the voice.  Of course, it’s Garreth, looking panicked and battered as he tries to slice through the inferi.  They’re not fast, but his leg is bleeding, and he doesn’t know that severing charm will do no damage to the undead.

“Garreth!” you yell, sliding through the rocks towards him.

Garreth’s eyes widen, crying out your name.  Despite his injury, he’s holding his arm out as if to shield you.  That bloody Gryffindor bravery, you think, swatting his arm away.

“Get back,” Garreth yells. “Get to Upper Hogsfield, I can hold them off–”

“Get out of the way, you idiot,” you shriek, waving your wand towards him. Depulso might be a bit extreme, but all you can think about is getting the wounded boy out of the way. As soon as you hear Garreth yelp, landing on the soft grass, you turn your attention back to the inferi, who are closing in.  

“Confringo!” you pant, unleashing fiery flames from the tip of your wand towards them. The heat of the fire has them shrieking and turning away. Several of them disintegrate, leaving behind the precious bounty Garreth had sought them out for in the first place.

It’s quiet, except for your heavy breathing and the screeches of inferi, all turning into piles of ash as you defeat them.  Once you’re sure the last one has been slaughtered, you turn back to Garreth, a few feet away in the grass.  He’s staring at you, dumbfounded, as he clutches the gash on his leg.  He’s looking rather pale, the blood seeping from his cut a strange dark color.  

“Garreth,” you breathe, falling to your knees next to him. 

“It must be infected,” he says slowly. “From the inferi.”

There’s no time to waste.  You dig through your hip pouch, pulling out one of your spare wiggenwelds.  Garreth will surely need a blood renewing potion and some more itensive healing potions when you get back to Hogwarts, but this will do for now. Pulling out the stopper, you push the vial into his hands.

“I can’t believe Pippin would direct you to an inferi den,” you snarl, tearing a piece of your cloak to make a makeshift bandage. Garreth is quietly sipping on the wiggenweld, trying not to look at the damage. “I have half a mind to report him to your aunt–”

“Don’t,” Garreth begs. “Please, don’t.  It’s embarrassing enough.”

“Garreth, you could’ve been killed.” You argue.

“It’s my own fault.” he says miserably. “Fire is what destroys inferi.  I can’t believe I fucking forgot.”

You give him a wry look. “Well, potions is your better subject.” you joke.

Garreth ignores your quip, downing the rest of the healing potion. “You came up to find me.” he points out, pushing the empty vial back into your hands. “Why?”

You shrug. “Pippin told me you didn’t want my help, and I assumed you’d go off trying to get the ingredients for yourself.  You shouldn’t go up against them alone, Garreth.”

“You fought them alone,” Garreth points out. “You could handle them.”

“Well, either I fought them, or else you’d be turning into an inferi yourself right now.” 

“Probably best to not waste my good looks on being a zombie.” Garreth jokes.  Taking note of your stern face and unwillingness to laugh, he winces. “Should we get back to school now?  Perhaps we can make it to Upper Hogsfield; take the floo from there.  But make sure to get some of that stench of the dead before we leave.”

Garreth carefully supervises you as you scoop up the murky essence into your vials; he eyes you as you tuck them in your bag.  Garreth tries to get up on his own, groaning as he balances on his good leg, swatting away your helping hand.

“Let me help you, you twat.” you urge him, slinging his arm around your shoulder.  It doesn’t do much–he really has grown, and you need to stand on your tiptoes to even support him.

The two of you stumble through the grass and you pass your sad little package on the way down.  Oh well, you think. Your potion is the least of your worries, considering Garreth is still dripping blood next to you. Despite his protestations that he’s doing fine, you know from the way he’s clutching your shoulder that he’s not.

“You’re not going to take me to the hospital wing, are you?” Garreth groans as you support him to the flickering green flame outside of Upper Hogsfield. “If you take me there, Blainey will tell Aunt Tilly, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that lecture yet.”

“I have somewhere else you can go.” you offer, biting down on your lower lip.  You’ve never invited anyone into the Room of Requirement before–Professor Weasley strictly forbade you from sharing the room, and you’ve kept it a secret from Sebastian, Ominis, and Natty for almost a year now.  But you’re sure you can’t get into too much trouble, especially if you’re healing another student.

“Do you trust me?” You ask Garreth, slipping your arm around his.

The redhead looks down at you, perhaps a bit skeptical.  “I trust you.”

“Good. Not like you have a choice anyways,” You remind him, turning back towards the flame.

“Okay, now this is truly unfair,” Garreth complains, splayed across your settee. “Aunt Tilly is officially my least favorite family member.”

You snort as you sprinkle mallowsweet into your bubbling cauldron. “Because she didn’t show you the Room of Requirement?”

“Yes,” Garreth barks. “You’re telling me I’ve been sneaking into Sharp’s office after hours just to trial potions, meanwhile there’s a perfectly good potions lab in the astronomy tower? Rubbish,” he mutters.  He picks at the piece of your cloak that you’ve tied around his thigh; it’s still bloody, and he looks peakish.

“The blood renewing potion is nearly done,” You assure him, walking away from the cauldron to assess his wound again. “Why do you need the stench of the dead so badly?” you ask, wrinkling your nose as you take off the bloody fabric. “Is it for your potion contest submission?”

Garreth swallows thickly. “Yes,” his voice is careful, trying not to give anything away.  He inhales sharply once the fabric has come off; his wound, despite the wiggenweld, still looks worse for wear. 

“Oh, come off it,” you roll your eyes, waving your wand to summon a fresh roll of linen. “Just tell me what it is. I guarantee you’re going to win anyways.”

Garreth gives you a funny look before bowling his shoulders over, letting out a loud sigh. “I’ve created a bottled tornado,” he admits, wincing as you bandage him up. “Bit of a play on the thunderbrew; you take the potion before entering battle, and you have full control of a windstorm against your enemies.”

“Is that why your hair was so fucked at lunch?” you muse. 

Garreth rolls his eyes. “It looked good, okay?”

The two of you glare into each other’s eyes for the first time in quite a while; after a terse twenty seconds, both of you burst into laughter.  

“Was it that bad?” Garreth wheezes.

You laugh, visibly shuddering. “Not that bad, actually. Those fifth years rather enjoyed it.”

Garreth rolls his eyes. “The most attention I’ve received from any of those girls, ever. Leander has been trying to talk me up to them, find us a double date.”

You’re quiet for a moment, stomach twisting with unfamiliar anxiety at the idea of Garreth and Leander sharing butter beers with those girls. Not that you care, really, but you miss hanging out around the Three Broomsticks every Saturday with Garreth.  He’d been one of your closest friends until the incident at Honeydukes, and then nothing . 

“Is that why you want to win the contest so badly?” You blurt. “For notoriety? Or just attention from the girls?” You joke.

Garreth shakes his head, shaking out his ginger mane like a lion.  Sometimes, you think it’s too fitting that he’s a Gryffindor. “Nah, not for that.”

“What for, then?”

Garreth chews on his lower lip. “Have I ever told you about my family?”

“Uh, no. Just that there’s a lot of them.” You admit, resting your palms on your knees.

“I’m one of seven siblings.” Garreth says, head falling back against a pillow. “There’s Arthur, Benedict, Cornelia, Deirdre, Edwin, Frederick, and myself.” he counts out his siblings on his thick fingers.

“Alphabetical order?” you asked, slightly amused.

Garreth rolled his eyes. “Unfortunately, yes.” Your eyes flit down to his torso; the hem of his shirt has risen, exposing a freckled stomach. You think back to what Sebastian had said–how Garreth had lost his baby fat over the summer, his once soft stomach turning muscled and strong.  You try not to linger on the thatch of red hair trailing down to his waist. 

“Artie, Deirdre, and Freddie played Quidditch for the house team. Cornelia and Edwin were both prefects, and Benedict was head boy.” Garreth explains.

“A successful bunch,” you offer.

“Successful besides me.” Garreth grumbled. “Mum wouldn’t let me hear the end of it when I didn’t get prefect our fifth year.  I’ve always been middling at Quidditch too, so no hopes for the house team.” he says moodily. “Just plain, untalented Garreth. The only thing I'm even remotely good at is brewing a potion, so I've been hoping to win ever since I was a first year.  All my siblings tried, but none have won.  Thought I might get my own name out there, instead of just being the youngest Weasley.” His eyes are glued to the ceiling, but you can tell from the furrow in his brow and hardened jaw that he's frustrated.

You tilt your head, giving him a disapproving look. “I think you’re talented, Garreth.”

“I think you’re talented too,” Garreth points out. “Which is why you’re probably going to win the potion making contest.  Sharp hates me, after all.”

“I think you have a fair shot,” you argue. “You’ve spent all summer working on your potions.”

“Yes, but you’re you.” Garreth fights back. “You’ve had magic for what, a year?  And you’re the most powerful witch I know.” 

“It’s not that easy,” you mumbled under your breath, smoothing down the front of your trousers as you stand.  You step back over to the station; the blood renewing potion has finished, a thick purple sludge that leaves a metallic smell in its wake.  You pull out a clean vial, trying to ladle the necessary amount.

“Everything seems to come easy to you.” Garreth pointed out. “You defeated a troll, took town the goblin rebellion–”

“At what cost, Garreth?” you shout, closing your hand into a tight fist.  “Ow!”

Garreth shoots up, propping up on his hands to peer over at you.  You open your hand, shaking it out–you’ve shattered the vial.  Cursing under your breath, you walk over the wash basin, muttering a quick charm to get the tiny shards of glass out of your hand.

“Let me help,” Garreth pleads, hobbling over towards you.

“Get back on the couch, Gar.” You seethe, pointing across the room.  

Garreth puts his hands up, still shuffling your way.  You wag your hand; it’s still stinging, but it’s just a surface wound. A wiggenweld and a bandage will do just fine.  

“Let me,” Garreth says quietly, his tone soft towards you for the first time in ages. “It’s my fault, after all.”

“It’s not your fault,” You sigh. “It’s me, being stupid.”

“You’re not stupid. You’re the furthest thing from stupid.” Garreth assures you. “I meant to say that it was my fault you got caught last year.”

You pause.  Is he really apologizing now?

Garreth takes the roll of linen, wrapping it around your palm. “You were looking for the billywig stings for me,” he says, tearing the linen with his teeth.  He sets down the roll, tying a knot around the bandage in your palm. “I’m the reason you got caught, and you covered for me. Flume could’ve called the aurors for burglary, and I let you take the fall.”

All you’ve wanted for the past six months is for Garreth to own up to his part in you getting all those detentions and losing fifty house points. You feel a little satisfied, but at the same time sad–you could’ve been friends all this time, instead of strangers.  Losing him made the other Gryffindors go icy against you, and it drove you further into Sebastian’s arms.  While you love your other freckled friend to death, you can’t help but wonder what trouble you could’ve avoided had you not felt so isolated. 

The thought overwhelms you, and you burst into a loud sob.  

“What’s wrong?” Garreth panics.

You wipe a tear from your eyes. “It’s nothing, it’s nothing at all.” you blubber.

“It’s clearly not,” Garreth says gently.

“It’s just we’ve been avoiding each other for months,” you take in a shaky breath. “And I’ve missed being your friend.”

Garreth lets out a loud sigh, his hand trailing down to touch your forearm.  It’s hard not to melt into his warm touch.

“I’m sorry,” he admits. “I was being stubborn.  I should’ve apologized ages ago, I’ve missed you too. I was just so intimidated by you, I forgot how to be your friend.”

“Intimidated, by me?” You gape.

Garreth gives you a look, raising his thick eyebrows. “You’re the Hero of Hogwarts,” he waves his free hand. “You only just discovered magic a year ago, and yet you’re at the top of the class.  You’re the best duelist I know; you bloody saved my life tonight.”

“I’m not a hero,” your voice falters. You’re not.  Garreth would be horrified to know what you’ve done–dabbled in dark magic, taken life (even if not by choice). 

“You’re a hero to me,” Garreth murmurs.  

You look into his deep green eyes.  They’re warm and honest; the Garreth you’ve gotten used to has a cold stare, eyes flitting away from yours as fast as possible.  This Garreth makes your stomach flip, but not in an uncomfortable way.  He’d always elicited that reaction from you, from the day you’d met.  Garreth had always been cheerful and cuddly, an arm always tossed around your shoulder as you sat together or fiddling with the hem of your robe.  It had gotten to the point where you might actually believe the rumors that he'd had a crush on you, considering the way his hugs lingered or the way his eyes caught you across the classroom.

For a second, you wonder if he ever actually did have a crush on you.  You also wonder if he still might.

“You should take the potion,” you change the subject, shaking off his grasp.

Garreth obediently sits back down on the settee while you scoop the thick potion into a clean vial.  He looks up at you with a smile as you settle down next to him, as if his leg still isn’t shaking and bloody.  

“Bottoms up,” you press the vial into his hand.

Garreth takes the blood renewing potion, shuddering as the thick sludge passes through his throat.  He shakes out his hair, setting the empty vessel down on the side table.

“How do you feel?” 

“Feeling better already,” Garreth assures you, and you know he’s telling the truth.  His cheeks are reddening, the color flooding back into his face.  You look down at the gauze wrapped around his leg; thanks to the potion, the other healing potions you’d forced him to take are now kicking in. 

“You’re brilliant, you know?” Garreth murmurs. “You’re beautiful, brilliant, and so damn brave. That’s why you’ll win Sharp’s contest.”

“Will you stop saying that?” You snip at him.

Garreth gives you an incredulous look. “It’s a compliment.”

“You don’t realize how much work it is,” you say, fidgeting with your hands in your lap. “To catch up to all of you.  Having this magic, not being able to control it–it doesn’t make any of the day to day any easier.  It seems like there’s always something I have to learn, things I should know by now that I don’t.  I feel like a fraud most of the time.” you admit, tears welling in your eyes.

“Hey, none of that,” Garreth tuts, wiping at your face. “You’re no fraud.  You, my dear, are the real deal.  I’m the one bumbling around, getting scratched up by inferi–”

You shut your eyes, clutching at the hand he’s resting on your face. “I won’t let you talk about yourself like that,” you argue. The thought of Garreth, one of the most clever wizards you know, feeling inferior to his siblings is still fresh in your mind. “You’re marvelous, Garreth.  You’re one of the best potioneers here at school, and you’re going to win.”

“But what about your submission?” His eyebrows are knitted together in confusion.

You shrug. “You need it more than I do–I already have my own space here, and you deserve the recognition.”

Garreth purses his lips together. “I can’t finish mine, unfortunately. Not without the ingredients–”

“Trust me, we have plenty now.” You assure him. “I probably have the rest of what you need here,” you say, scrambling to your feet. You rush back over to the potions stand, conjuring a clean cauldron. “I’m assuming you’re using the same base as a thunderbrew–”

Garreth is over to the potions station in three quick strides, closing the distance between you.  He grabs your wrist, but his touch is soft.

“You’ll really help me?” he asks, his voice hopeful. “Even if I’ve been an absolute prat towards you for the last six months–”

“I think if last year proves anything, I’d do anything for you, Garreth.” You want to look into his eyes, but the moment feels too charged. "You were one of my first friends here, and I care about you."

Garreth’s eyes flit down to your lips. “As a friend?” The question hangs heavy between the two of you.

You shake your head. “Yes...but also, no. Not just as a friend.” you say slowly, hoping he'll understand.

Garreth doesn’t release his grip; his fingers move down, tangling with yours.  He takes a step closer and you can feel his hot breath on your cheek.  You look up at him, opening your mouth to say anything , but you don’t get the chance.  Garreth’s lips crash against yours in a tender kiss, the pad of his thumb running over the back of your hand.  You tilt your head up a bit too eagerly, your teeth clacking against his.

Garreth pulls away, and you’re momentarily mortified until he descends back upon you, this time wrapping his arms around your waist tugging you close.  Your hands are in his hair, grasping at the copper locks you’ve spent the last six months eyeing.  It’s just as soft as you thought it would be.  Sighing into his touch, you can tell the freckled boy is smiling against your mouth from the curve of his chin.  His tongue glides against your bottom lip and you grant him access, warmth pooling in the pit of your stomach as the kiss deepens.  You want more, even if you're being greedy.  You don’t want any distance between the two of you whatsoever anymore.  

Garreth pulls away and you whine at the loss of him.  He presses his forehead against yours, looking quite bashful.  The look in his eyes says everything you need to know for now.

I’m sorry.

I’ve missed you.

I have feelings for you.

“Should we get to brewing?” you ask breathlessly, gesturing down to the empty cauldron.

“Let’s. I want to get it out of the way–I think the two of us have some more catching up to do.” Garreth teases, his hands hovering over your waist.

You grin, turning your attention down to the cauldron. Garreth’s warm body encases yours from behind, listing off all the ingredients and their exact ratios.  His chin lands against your shoulder, breath tickling your ear as he whispers the instructions. It's only after he presses his lips against the nape of your neck that you slam the chopping knife down, hands shaking.

“If you keep this up, we’ll never finish.” You warn him.

Garreth’s chuckle sends a shiver up your spine. “Fine, fine.” he sighs, pressing a kiss against your cheek as he steps away. “I’ll observe some personal space for now, but the moment we’re done…” his voice trails off. “I’d like to kiss you again.”

You swat at him, rolling your eyes as he starts chopping mandrake leaves. The air in the Room of Requirement feels thick, charged with the tension between the two of you as you take turns stirring the altered thunderbrew. Before long, the cauldron is emitting sparks of lightning and gusts of wind, indicating your success.

“Back to catching up?” Garreth asks, chewing on his bottom lip as he bottles the brew.  As soon as the potion is stowed away safely, you nod, and the redhead wastes no time taking you back to the settee.

You never did manage to have the time to come up with your own potion.  Garreth had insisted on working through the night to help you come up with your own submission, just so he could win fair and square, but you'd shrugged him off.  You'd only entertained the idea of entering to compete with him in the first place.  Besides, you would rather save the precious time in the Room of Requirement for other activities.

Professor Sharp had just announced the winner of the potion brewing contest before the bell rang.  In a tired, yet unsurprised tone, Sharp announces that Garreth has won by a landslide.  The class is roaring and chanting for him; Sharp is perturbed that he’ll have to grant the budding potioneer access to his classroom and store cabinet after hours.  Nevertheless, Garreth’s name is quickly etched into a little silver tag that will be added to the plaque in the trophy room, and class is dismissed.

“I can’t believe you bungled up your potion.” Sebastian shakes his head, slipping the strap of his bag over his shoulder. 

You shrug, clutching your books against your chest. “Just wasn’t meant to be.”

“I was really hoping you’d put Weasley in his place,” Sebastian mumbles.  

You turn your head over your shoulder, eyes immediately locking with Garreth’s.  He’s standing over his cauldron, sprinkling ashwinder egg shells into the vessel as he smiles at you.  His cheeks are a bit flushed–you’re not sure if it's from the heat of the cauldron, or from the memory of the kisses you’d shared in the Room of Requirement after finishing his contest submission.

“I wouldn’t worry too much, Seb.” You assure him. “I think I’ll be putting him in his place much more often now.”

Sebastian doesn’t catch on to your innuendo, shrugging as you pass through the door.  “Fancy meeting Ominis for lunch?”

“I’m fine,” you lie. “I”ll catch you both later.  I think I left my quill behind.”

Once Sebastian is past the corner and out of view, you turn back around, slipping into the potions classroom.  You were hoping for a moment alone with Garreth, but Leander’s whinging cuts the silence.  

“The two of you couldn’t stop staring at each other all period,” Leander shakes his head. “What’s going on?”

Casting a quick disillusionment charm, you slip into the store room, leaving the wooden door slightly ajar to watch the boys interact.

“Don’t worry about it, Lee.” Garreth assures him, waving his wand to rinse out his cauldron.

“Are the two of you friends again?” Leander asks. “Sallow must be pissed.”

You shuffle forward, trying to get a better look at the two of them.

“He’ll get over it,” Garreth laughs, picking up his cauldron to stack it against the rest. His shirt is rolled up above his elbows, and you bite down on your lower lip as you watch the muscles in his forearms flex.

“I knew you’d win,” Leander snorts. “You’re the best in class, everyone knows it.  You deserved it.  But honestly, I’m surprised she didn’t even enter.”

“I know,” Garreth shrugs. “But she’s smart too.  Quick as a whip, hell of a duelist.  I don’t think we ever thank her enough for what she’s done.” 

Leander scoffs. “Why are you kissing her arse? Oh no, don’t tell me you have a crush on her again.” he complains, rolling his eyes.

Garreth chuckles, walking back over to the station to pick up his book bag.  “Crush on her?  Mate, I’m going to marry that girl someday.”

Your heart stops for a moment, cheeks aflame.  Garreth had confessed his feelings to you in the Room of Requirement, after the two of you had to drag yourselves apart at the risk of taking things too far. Now that you were back in his life, he assured you that there was little chance of him ever letting you get too far away again.  You’d agreed wholeheartedly then, but your mind hadn’t even gotten to the idea of life post-school. 

Marriage .  Marriage to Garreth Weasley.  The thought of it is comfortable, like a worn in sweater or a cup of tea.  You can imagine waking up every morning to his lips pressed against your neck, encased in his warm embrace. 

Yes, you might like that.  

Even though you have a disillusionment charm on, you swear Garreth is looking straight at you through the crack in the doorway.  He has a dreamy, faraway look on his face, one that makes you want to barrel out the door and tackle him to the ground right now.

“Now you really sound like you’ve been confunded,” Leander laughs. “You’re sixteen, Gar.”

“It’s more than that.” Garreth says fondly. “I know it is.”

“Whatever you say,” Leander snorts, heading towards the door. “Coming to lunch?”

“I’ll meet you there,” Garreth echoes.  

You hear Leander grumbling to himself, his footsteps becoming quieter as he gets further away from the classroom.  Finally, you hear nothing at all except the familiar hum of the boisterous Gryffindor boy you’ve been itching to spend time with all day.

The door flies open and Garreth reaches out, tapping your shoulder.  It disarms your disillusionment charm, and you blink up at him in shock.  He’s still beaming, a toothy grin accompanied by freckled rosy cheeks.  Before you know it, the door is shutting behind you, and he’s backed you into the shelf.  The taller boy has you pinned against it, muttering a quick locking charm before he slips his wand into his back pocket.

“I hope you heard me,” Garreth murmurs, brushing hair out of your face.

“I did,” you stammer. “You’re mad, Garreth Weasley.”

Garreth grins broadly, his hair falling against your forehead as he presses his body into yours.

“Maybe,” he sings. “But you heard me.  When you know, you know.”

You have no complaints. With Garreth wrapped around you, sixth year might not be so daunting. 

[illuminatedferret]

One-Word Ficlet Prompt #1: Alcohol

Word count: 641

Starting off uploading my "I'm stuck in a room with testing students for four hours with nothing but a journal and pen" series with my favorite so far:

“San Lang, can you get drunk?” Xie Lian asked one day. They were seated at the table enjoying a suspiciously blue dinner when, apropos of nothing, the thought occurred to him.

Hua Cheng, whose mouth was full, let a raised eyebrow be his first response. Then, after he swallowed, he asked, “what brought this on?”

“Nothing in particular,” Xie Lian replied. “It just occurred to me. I know weaker ghosts can get drunk- or something like it- but you...?”

Hua Cheng considered the question, taking a sip of water.

“I could,” he eventually said. “But, unless it was spiritually powerful alcohol, it would only affect me if I let it.”

“So you’ve never been drunk before?”

“Why would I want to be?”

Well, Xie Lian couldn’t argue with that. The one time he’d been drunk had been a disaster, after all.

“And gege?” Hua Cheng, whose thoughts were surely walking a similar path, prompted.

“Ah, you’ve seen what I’m like,” Xie Lian laughed, light and sheepish, more from habit than humor. “I never wanted to repeat that experience. Besides, my cultivation banned alcohol.”

Hua Cheng nodded thoughtfully, and Xie Lian took that as a sign this thread of conversation was over, taking a few more bites of his food. And yet, after a short while, Hua Cheng suddenly said:

“But you don’t follow that path anymore.”

His tone was mild, but Xie Lian knew his husband well. If he brought it up now, there was more to it than that.

“Yes,” he agreed, watching Hua Cheng closely. “But alcohol has never tempted me much, anyway. Not like-” he coughed, cutting himself off, but the damage was done- Hua Cheng was smirking at him, a dog on a scent.

“Like what, gege?”

Don’t speak so innocently when you know what I mean! Xie Lian cried internally. Out loud, he hurriedly said, “nevermind, nevermind that. Why were you asking, San Lang?”

“I didn’t ask anything,” Hua Cheng pointed out, which was true. But he didn’t try to hide that there had been a question unspoken, for then he said, “I was just wondering if gege would ever want to change that.”

“Change... If I wanted to get drunk?” Xie Lian echoed, surprised.

“Mn.”

“Why... why would I?” 

“It could be nice,” Hua Cheng offered.

“But I... I mean, San Lang, you saw what I was like last time... I don’t even remember most of it, but Feng Xin told me I caused a lot of trouble...”

“I would take care of you,” Hua Cheng promised simply, and like the lock of a door, everything clicked into place.

Ah.

So that’s it.

“Gege?” Hua Cheng asked, and Xie Lian realized some of his thoughts must have shown on his face.

“...” San Lang wants to take care of me? Xie Lian wasn’t shameless enough to say it. He knew he was right, though- oh yes, by now it was quite clear to anyone who paid attention (and many who didn’t) just how much the ghost king Crimson Rain Sought Flower got out of taking care of his husband.

Which apparently also extended to getting his husband intentionally drunk as some sort of do-over for the last time.

...Is this a sex thing? He wondered. But, in the end it didn’t matter. Nothing would happen unless he wanted it.

Which meant...

Xie Lian glanced away, trying to affect disinterest even though Hua Cheng could surely read the embarrassment right off of his face. “I’ll think about it,” he said quietly.

Hua Cheng smiled innocently, having heard all he truly wanted to hear. Xie Lian took another bite of food, resisting the urge to rub his forehead.

I really do spoil you... he thought. Yet, he couldn’t say he regretted it. There were much worse things he would do for Hua Cheng than getting drunk on purpose.

[alwaysbewoke]

I’m sad to say this. ⁣ ⁣ I was just told by a friend at Meta that it’s likely my Instagram account will be permanently deleted in the next few weeks. And that my account alone has been a constant source of heated arguments internally at the company with the governments of both Israel and the United States working directly with Meta on why my account should be banned. ⁣ ⁣ Their argument is going to be that I’m a Hamas sympathizer and that since the United States has them labeled as a terrorist organization, that Meta’s rules against supporting terrorists are being violated.⁣ ⁣ Nevermind that Israel has killed over 2,000% more people than Hamas.⁣ ⁣ Nevermind that Israel finally admits that only 1 baby was killed on October 7th and that over 1,000 Palestinian babies have been slaughtered. ⁣ ⁣ Who is blowing up mosques and schools and hospitals and churches?⁣ ⁣ Who is using snipers to kill old Catholic mothers taking refuge in churches?⁣ ⁣ WHO WHO WHO???⁣ ⁣ WHO CUT OFF THE WATER?⁣ ⁣ Who is starving kids to death?⁣ ⁣ Who left babies to die on incubators?⁣ ⁣ Who shut down almost every hospital in Gaza?⁣ ⁣ WHO WHO WHO???⁣ ⁣ Tell me @meta⁣ ⁣ Who does the ENTIRE WORLD say is committing war crimes??⁣ ⁣ Who posts videos of soldiers stealing valuables and treasures from homes?⁣ ⁣ Who shot and killed their own hostages?⁣ ⁣ Tell me!!! Who who who WHO??⁣ ⁣ Who beats and slaps and humiliates their hostages?⁣ ⁣ Who ended chemotherapy in Gaza?⁣ ⁣ Who blew up the zoo?⁣ ⁣ Who blew up the national archives?⁣ ⁣ Who blew up the libraries?⁣ ⁣ Who destroyed the beaches?⁣ ⁣ Who bulldozed cemeteries??⁣ ⁣ WHO WHO WHO?⁣ ⁣ Who sterilized Ethiopian women again their will?⁣ ⁣ Who continues to steal land as we speak - in violation of international law?⁣ ⁣ Tell me who the terrorists are? WHO?!!!⁣ ⁣ Who blew up entire refugee camps?⁣ ⁣ Who killed Reem? ⁣ ⁣ Who blew the legs and arms off of over 1,000 Palestinian children?⁣ ⁣ Who is burning the skin off of thousands of children?⁣ ⁣ So listen, @Meta - you can ban me for advocating for Palestinians, but it’s YOU that supports the terrorists.⁣ ⁣ It’s YOU that protect and defend this genocide at every turn.⁣ ⁣ It’s not me.⁣ It’s you. ⁣ That’s who.

shaunking

i don't fuck with shaun king like that but this is just another example of israel forcing censorship everywhere they can cause the truth is getting out and no one is falling for their lies an propaganda anymore (esp not young people).

[winns-stuff]

WOW so feminist

the way hades "rescues" persephone from her abusive home is through marriage... because watching over your immature, naive child who was put into a shady relationship by your sister and also into a position of power by said boyfriend is, apparently, abuse...

putting aside how demeter's character is brutally villainized, it sucks that persephone doesn't even get to confront her mother. like she needs him to fight her battles for her despite the plot making it seem like this is the ultimate standing up to her mother

where is the wrath that metis praised her for?

instead she has to run from home like a salty teenager by marrying her 40yo CEO boyfriend. in any other media that would be the beginning of a cautionary tale if not a horror story altogether

Sorry again to this person, their question has been sitting in the inbox for a while.

But I don’t understand why Persephone is just so.. Weak? Like we’re supposed to praise her for her inner and outer strength and see her growth but there’s nothing to show for it except for words that other characters describe her as. I’ve never seen Persephone be terrifying recently, maybe to the nymphs and lower class but no one else. I’ve never seen her be intelligent either nor have I seen her be kind to anyone who isn’t already in her favor. But you know what I have seen? Other characters praising Persephone for being all of these things, it doesn’t make sense to me. I can say that I’m a millionaire with a big huge mansion and thirty dogs and cats but if I don’t show you any evidence to prove the statement you’re not going to believe me are you? Like in order for us to really compliment Persephone for being any of those traits you first have to make her do those actions which means you’ll have to show us how she’s terrifying, show us how she’s compassionate, show us how she’s smart, show us why she’s this caring individual. People eat up the way Persephone is described but they remain blind about the actual results of that.

Also, I understand that sometimes you might need support or help with things especially when speaking to a (narrative wise I guess??) abusive parent, I imagine you wouldn’t want to be alone with them when you’re confronting them so it’s always good to have another person you feel safe and protected with. But the thing that bugs me and probably a lot of people is that it seems like Persephone can’t do anything for herself, it feels like she’s banned by the comic from being anything but a smol cinnamon roll. It’s insane how she’s never had the chance to actually defend herself or speak up, who took that ability away from her?

Last thing, I absolutely hate how everyone’s allowing Hera to get away with all of this. She quite literally forced Persephone and Hades to be together and she’s been keeping it from Demeter and allowing her to look crazy in front of everyone while puppeteering the whole thing behind the scenes. You’re definitely not a girl boss for ignoring your nieces requests to not go in a place she’s obviously not comfortable in, match her up with your affair, and continue to push their relationship together while living through her. It’s insane to me how LO stans claimed that Demeter was doing that all while Hera literally… Nevermind I’m not going to spoil anyone but just know that it’s icky.

[ask-the-germanic-family]

I’m on vacation in Frankenmuth which is a ‘Bavarian village’ in the US, they have Switzerland, Germany, and Austria’s flags all over but not a single Liechtenstein flag.

Liechtenstein- Oh really? Everyone else's?........well I suppose it doesn't really matter anyway, I hope you have fun on your trip.

Switzerland- Of course it matters! Just let me speak to them.

Kugelmugel- Switzerland's going to get banned from Frankenmuth isn't he?

Germany- Nevermind that, they have a what now in the US?

Prussia- It's a Bavarian villiage thing, learn to read West. The more important issue is why isn't my flag there!?

Austria- Because nobody uses your flag anymore!

[cosmic-kitten-writing]

Everything I will write

This will just be going through what I will/won't write, the fandoms I will write for, and characters from said fandoms I will write for. This will be changed as I become more comfortable with things, get better at writing, watch new shows, and finish the ones I'm on. Please respect what makes me uncomfortable. If something isn't on the list feel free to ask if I will write it. If anything makes no sense feel free to ask.

What I will write:

💜 Fluff

💜 Angst With Happy Ending

💜 Mentions of Abuse, Depression, And Anxiety (trigger warnings will be placed)

💜 Character X Reader

💜 Headcanons

💜 Imagines

💜 LGBTQ+ Content (These requests will take longer for research purposes)

💜 GIF Imagines

💜 Matchups

💜 Cross-Overs

What I won't write:

💔 Angst Without Happy Ending

💔 Heavy Abuse, Depression, Anxiety, And Bullying.

💔 NSFW (Don't Request It. I am a minor)

💔 Character X Character

💔 OC X Character

💔 Mentions of Non-Con

💔 Suicide and Self-Harm

💔 Mental Illnesses (I can't portray them properly)

💔 Oneshots

💔 Anything involving religion

💔 Yandere Things

💔 Pregnancy, Children

💔 Polyamory

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My Fandoms + Character I will/won't write for:

✅ Hanako-kun, Yashiro Nene, Minamoto Kou, Nanamine Sakura, Mitsuba Sousuke

❎ Yugi Tsukasa, Akane Aoi, Aoi Akane, Tsuchigomori, Minamoto Teru, Hyuuga Natsuhiko

✅ Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki, Todoroki Shouto, Iida Tenya, Kaminari Denki, Kirishima Eijiro, Ashido Mina, Asui Tsuyu, Uraraka Ochaco, Jiro Kyoko, Yaoyorozu Momo, Tamaki Amajiki, Nejire Hado, Mirio Togata, Toga Himiko

❎ Aoyama Yuga, Ojiro Mashiro, Sato Rikido, Koda Koji, Shoji Mezo, Sero Hanata, Tokoyami Fumikage, Hagakure Toru, Mineta Minoru

✅ Fujioka Haruhi, Suoh Tamaki, Ootori Kyoya, Hitachiin Hikaru, Hitachiin Kaoru, Honey, Mori

❎ Basically Anyone Else

✅ Miia, Papi, Centorea Shianus, Meroune "Mero" Lorelei, Suu, Rachnera Arachnera, Zombina, Dopple, Manako, Tionishia

❎ Kimihito Kurusu, Lala, Ms. Smith, Polt

✅ Makoto Naegi, Kyoko Kirigiri, Toko Fukawa, Genocider Syo, Aoi Asahina, Sayaka Maizono, Leon Kuwata, Chihiro Fujisaki, Mondo Owada, Kiyotaka Ishimaru, Celestia Ludenburg, Sakura Oogami, Mukuro Ikusaba, Hajime Hinata, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu, Akane Owari, Sonia Nevermind, Kazuichi Souda, Mahiru Koizumi, Peko Pekoyama, Ibuki Mioda, Mikan Tsumiki, Gundham Tanaka, Nagito Komaeda, Chiaki Nanami, Shuichi Saihara, Himiko Yumeno, Maki Harukawa, Rantaro Amami, Kaede Akamatsu, Kirumi Tojo, Angie Yonaga, Tenko Chabashira, Miu Iruma, Gonta Gokuhara, Kokichi Ouma, Kaito Momota, Kiibo

❎ Byakuya Togami, Hifumi Yamada, Yasuhiro Hagakure Junko Enoshima, Byakuya Twogami, Teruteru Hanamura, Hiyoko Saionji, Nekomaru Nedai, Tsumugi Shirogane

✅ Yumeko Jabami, Mary Saotome, Midari Ikishima, Yumemi Yumemite, Itsuki Sumeragi

❎ Runa Yomozuki, Kirari Momobami, Ririka Momobami

✅ Tanjiro Kamado, Zenitsu Agatsuma, Inosuke Hashibira, Nezuko Kamado, Mitsuri Kanroji, Muichiro Tokito, Shinobu Kocho

❎ Muzan Kibutsuji, Tamayo, Yushiro, Giyu Tomioka, Obanai Iguro, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Gyomei Himejima, Tengen Uzui, Kyojuro Rengoku

✅ Meliodas, Diane, Ban, King, Gowther, Merlin, Elizabeth, Derieri, Gloxinia, Melascula, Zeldris

❎ Escanor, Drole, Estarossa, Fraudrin, Galand, Grayroad, Monspeet

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rules:

⭐ A limit of 5 characters (If they are part of a group, I may make an exception)

⭐ By cross-over I do not mean two characters from different worlds meeting (ex: Yumeko Jabami meeting Celestia Ludenberg) I mean concepts from one universe crossing over to another (ex: Y/N transfers from Hyakkaou Private Academy to Ouran High School, and struggles with the shift between environments)

⭐ I will mostly be writing gender nuetral readers so it's open for people of all genders, but upon request I may do specific genders.

⭐ Keep everything political and religious off my account. I don't want people getting into fights on my account so please keep your religion and political opinions to yourself.

⭐ I do not tolerate racism, ableism, homophobia, transphobia or anything like that. I want everyone to feel at home on my account so I will not tolerate slander upon any minority.

⭐ If you make a request be patient. It will take me a while to write something, so please wait I'll try to get something out in at max a week. So please don't bombard me with DM's about how long I'm taking.

⭐ Chances are there will be spoilers for every fandom mentioned so just be aware.

⭐ Please request in English. I don't speak any other language.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Needed Links

Match-Up Requirements 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And that's it. Feel free to ask questions and make requests. Please respect me and my pronouns. I hope you all have a great day/night. Bye

(GIFs used aren't mine. They belong to their rightful owners.)

[prettylightsbigcity]

Day 6 - Reunion/Reconnect

Nov 30, 2021 This got wildly out of hand, so here's 4000 words of AU madness where Baz works at a queer nightclub, and one night, Simon shows up out of the blue. For the purposes of this story, Baz and Simon never got together in CO, and Simon never gave himself wings. Simon still defeated the Mage and went to America with Penny and met Shep, but after Watford, Baz never saw him again. This chapter is rated T, and did not get beta'd or even properly edited, so um. Yolo? Read on ao3 here if you prefer.

***

Baz

The heavy bass music from the club floor is reverberating through my chest, and I feel the sudden chill as I push through the side door, and the frigid night air cools the sheen of sweat clinging to my body. I take a deep breath, relishing in the shocking cold after the pulsing heat inside. I feel like I’m floating, riding the high of our success and the thrum of electric energy now fading from my system in the darkness. I pull out a cigarette, fumbling in my pockets for my lighter before I realize I lent it to Mateo.

Fuck, I think, before resolving not to let this ruin my fleeting moment of happiness.

I make my way over to the huddle of smokers leaning on the wall by the front door, putting on my smoothest smile.

“Anyone got a light?” I ask pleasantly.

My smile freezes on my face as the man standing nearest to me turns around, catching me like a deer in the headlights with his blue, blue eyes.

Simon Snow is smoking, I think distantly, and then, Simon Snow is standing outside a gay club.

Simon looks just as surprised to see me, and he inhales sharply.

Still a mouth-breather, my brain supplies helpfully.

“Um, hello? You alright mate?” asks a tall guy in a jean jacket standing next to Simon.

I realize belatedly that he’s holding out a lighter, waiting for me to take it.

“Nevermind,” I spit, and then I turn back down the alley and run, slipping in through the side door and away from the face I haven’t stopped thinking about since I was a teenager.

What the fuck is he doing here?  

I don’t have time to figure it out, because I can hear him arguing with Tony, the bouncer standing at the side door and making sure no one except the staff comes through it. I scurry around the corner and press my back to the wall, listening as Snow argues, getting louder and louder until someone (perhaps his friend with the lighter?) comes and pulls him away, speaking soothingly in a voice too quiet for me to make out the actual words. I realize I’m breathing too hard, sucking air in like I’m drowning, my chest heaving. I feel like I might throw up, so I sink down against the wall slowly, letting my head fall forward and bracing my elbows against my knees.

“You alright there, Baz?” Tony’s kind voice asks from somewhere above me.

His hand appears in my peripheral vision, holding out a bottle of water. I take it, grateful that it’s Tony who’s seeing me like this. He’s the only member of staff who doesn’t gossip like a teenage girl, and he’s a surprisingly sympathetic listener. I take a big gulp of water and clear my throat.

“Good,” Tony says, clapping a massive hand on my shoulder, “now, do you want to tell me who that bloke was?”

“Someone from my past— someone I have a lot of history with. He caught me off guard, that’s all. I didn’t expect to ever see him again.”

“You need me to put him on the no-fly list?” Tony asks, holding his hand out to me.

I take it, and he pulls me up to standing. I consider whether or not I want Snow banned from the club. It’s tempting, but some tiny part of me that I can’t seem to squash is hoping he’ll come back.

“No, thank you, Tony. I doubt we’ll see him again, but if we do, I won’t allow myself to be caught off-guard again.”

Tony shrugs with one shoulder and turns away, heading back to his post by the door.

Simon

I don’t know what I’m doing back here, I really don’t, but somehow, I find myself waiting in line in the freezing cold to pay a hefty cover charge and get into Elysium for the second night in a row. My teeth are chattering by the time I make it to the front, and I regret not bringing a jacket (I didn’t want to wait in line at the coat check). The person working the door is wearing a crown made of broken mirror pieces and enough glitter on their face that they’d give the disco balls inside a run for their money. They look me up and down quizzically.

“It’s Fierce Fit Friday,” they say, leaning in so I can hear them over the music spilling from the club doors behind them.

“Um, what?” I ask, following their gaze to the rest of the partygoers lined up behind me.

Oh. Everyone is wearing a costume of some kind, from towering wigs to hoop skirts to costume-party fairy wings, and even one bloke in what looks like a latex unitard. I look back to the door attendant nervously. They sigh.

“Come on, newbie. I’m Ellory; I’ll help you out. Cleo!” they scream through the open door, “I’m taking my break, get your ass out here!”

Ellory is relieved by a glitzy drag queen on towering, stilt-like heels. They grab me by the elbow and drag me unceremoniously into the club, bypassing the archway onto the club floor and instead ducking down a narrow hallway past the end of the bar.

“Uh, first of all thank you, and — also, hi, I’m Simon, and, erm, lastly, where are you taking me?”

Ellory giggles and opens one of several doors lining the hallway. The ends of several feather boas and some frothy, floaty fabric immediately fall out, and I find myself stepping into a small room absolutely packed with textiles. The walls are lined with clothing racks from floor to ceiling on all sides, and there are several open trunks full of assorted hats and an alarming number of wigs in various rainbow colors.

“This is the costume closet, newbie,” Ellory tells me matter-of-factly, “and the rules tonight are ‘no costume, no admission,’ so you’d better pick something out if you wanna see that dance floor tonight.”

They must see the panic on my face, because they take pity on me and start pulling out options and holding them up against my body, pulling the door closed to reveal a full-length mirror hanging on the back. Several minutes later, I’m kitted out in a bejeweled cowboy hat, a shirt with more fringe and rhinestones than I’ve ever seen on a single article of clothing, and a pair of black leather chaps. Ellory tried to convince me to just wear my briefs under them, but I put my foot down and insisted on wearing them over my ripped, light-wash jeans.

“I — you really didn’t have to do this; you don’t even know me. I can’t thank you enough,” I say earnestly.

Ellory gives me a cute little half smile.

“Don’t sweat it newbie; just save me a dance at the end of my shift, yeah? And don’t run off without returning these costume pieces.”

Just then, I hear it: Baz’s voice, ringing out clearly just outside in the hall. Before last night, I hadn’t heard it in over five years, not since I left Watford, but I still know it as well as my own. I feel my muscles clench like a reflex, and I try force myself to chill the fuck out.

“This is your five minute call, everyone, five minutes!” he says loudly, then continues, “I’m serious, Mateo, your ass had better be on stage in five fucking minutes or so help me I’ll —”

Baz is drowned out by a chorus of boos and several wolf whistles, and I can’t contain my curiosity any further. I peek my head out the door and look down the hallway, catching sight of him just as he closes another door and turns away, walking further down the hallway and rounding a corner out of my sight.

Was he wearing a sheer shirt? His hair looked really shiny— I’m mercifully cut off from that particular train of thought by an insistent elbow in my side.

“So… are you going to share that fabulous look with the rest of the world at some point tonight?” Ellory teases.

I stand up straight, square my shoulders, and give them my best smile.

“Right. Let’s do this.”

Baz

The finale starts, and I breathe a huge sigh of relief.

“Alright everyone, excellent work, let’s bring it on home,” I say into my headset, preparing to cue the final sequence of lights and sound.

The aerialists contort in unison, the gogo dancers all drop into the splits, and Mateo wails out the final note of the closing number. The crowd explodes into frenzied applause, screaming at the top of their lungs as soon as we hit the blackout. Leaning back against the booth railing, I call the final cues for the bows, then tell the sound board op to switch over to the generic club music playlist. I know that the DJ for the next set will already be behind the curtains onstage, setting up for the dance party that will rage on until Elysium closes at three in the morning. I climb down the ladder from the booth, circling around to backstage and clapping one of our riggers on the back as I pass.

“Nice save there, Jen; I wasn’t sure if Mateo was going to make it to the lyra in time for the start of the song, but you got him up there very musically.”

“Yeah, well, you tell him the next time he’s late, he can pull his own bloody lines!” she replies, laughing.

I turn back to raise my eyebrow at her skeptically as I continue on my path to the dressing room.

I open the door to a wall of sound, and a champagne cork flies out of nowhere and nearly takes my eye out.

“Settle down, you animals!” I shout over the chaos; it drops to a dull roar. “That was… a fucking brilliant show, congratulations!” I say, letting my genuine smile show through. Everyone whoops and cheers, and someone hands me a coffee mug full of champagne.

“Time to celebraaaate!” Kitty squeals.

“I’m gonna celebrate all over that gorgeous hunk of man in the front row,’ Mateo declares loudly, and everyone groans, including me.

“What a judgey bunch of bitches!” he grouses.

“We’d have less to judge if you kept it in your pants for just one night,” I snipe back.

“That’s rich coming from you, Bazzy boy,” Cleo chimes in, “because everyone knows you never go home with the same boy twice!”

I feel the blood of the six rats I drank on my way here rushing into my cheeks all at once, so I remind them all to check their emails for notes (fat chance any of them will), and I take my mug back to the booth to drink it while I sit down for a minute. I give our lighting designer, Kai, a little wave as I sit down on the floor, clutching my drink in one hand and trying not to dump it all over myself as I maneuver my way into a comfortable position. Our booth is a raised platform at the back of the dance floor, so it has an excellent view of the stage, but it’s a bit of a pain in the ass to get in and out of. I’m dangling my legs over the edge, leaning against the railing and watching people dance in the neon lights below me when I see him.

Simon.

He came back. I should have known he would; he’s never known when to leave well enough alone. Currently, he’s dancing with Ellory from front-of-house. The two of them aren’t dancing in a sexual way (unlike almost everyone else in here), but Simon is rolling his hips and waving his hands in the air with abandon, and I feel the old pain twist in my stomach. He’s beautiful, throwing his head back and laughing as Ellory leans in to shout something in his ear over the thumping music. I sit, watching him from the shadows like the coward that I am, for three more songs, and then Simon shouts something to Ellory, who nods, and makes his way to the door. His exit spurs me to action, and I jump up, murmuring an apology to Kai as I shoulder past her to get to the ladder.

Simon

Baz pushes through the side door just as I’m lighting my second cigarette, leaning against the corner of the building in what I hope is a nonchalant way. Fuck, he is wearing a sheer shirt: black, with some kind of leafy pattern and a little bit of shine to it. I force myself to look back up at his face as he approaches, his arms crossing tightly over his chest.

“What the fuck do you want, Snow,” he spits as soon as he’s level with me.

He doesn’t phrase it as a question. Every word I know suddenly flies out of my brain.

“Uh, well I— erm…”

Baz rolls his eyes and pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket. He puts one between his lips, then growls in frustration as he searches for a lighter. The sound catches me off guard; it makes me feel warmed right through, like taking a shot of whiskey with no chaser. I pull my lighter out of my pocket and hold it out to Baz. He looks at me like I’m something he found on the bottom of his shoe. It’s getting awkward, so I flick the lighter and lean towards Baz slightly. He flinches, then leans in and lights up quickly, keeping his eyes on mine the whole time. As soon as he can, he steps back, taking a long drag and exhaling a cloud of smoke in my direction.

“I never imagined you as a smoker,” he says after a moment.

I shrug.

“M’not, really. More of a social smoker. I only do it when I’m out with mates and I’ve had a few drinks.”

“I don’t see any mates,” Baz observes.

“Uh, no. I was here with some last night,” I say.

“Hm.”

There’s a long pause while I try to think of something to say, some way to bridge this aching gap between us.

“Hang on,” I realize suddenly, “Baz, you shouldn’t be smoking— that’s really dangerous for you!”

“Smoking��s dangerous for everyone, Snow,” Baz says dryly, “I think that’s part of the appeal.”

“You know what I meant, you—”

“Why are you here, Snow?” he interrupts, his voice hard.

“I… I dunno,” I tell him honestly, “last night was my first time coming here; I have a buddy who loves Elysium, and he invited me. His name’s Shepard; he’s seeing Penny, actually…” I trail off.

“So you and Bunce are still thick as thieves, how precious,” Baz mutters. “And what about Wellbelove? Am I to be plagued by the arrival of the entire golden trio here at my humble place of work?”

He seems really upset all of a sudden, and I don’t know how to fix it, but I want to.

“Erm, well… Agatha and I broke things off years ago, actually. She’s been seeing someone else for a while now. Niamh Brody? Do you remember her from Watford?”

Baz raises one eyebrow. I never could figure out how to do just the one.

“Good for Wellbelove,” he says, and he sounds like he actually means it.

“Yeah,” I smile, “yeah, it’s good. Niamh’s good for her, and Aggie and me are honestly a lot better off as friends.”

Baz finishes his smoke and crushes it beneath the heel of his thick-soled leather boot.

“Lovely catching up,” he says sarcastically, “but some of us have work to do this evening, so.”

Baz turns to walk away, and I’m seized with a sudden, irrational panic.

“Can I come back?” I ask loudly.

Several other smokers near the door turn to look at us, so I step closer to Baz and lower my voice.

“I mean— I know you work here, but would it bother you if I came back? I like the people who come here.”

Baz’s eyebrows draw together in the middle.

“Piece of advice for you, Snow: you’ll have better luck picking up women at pretty much any other bar in the city.”

“Maybe I’m not interested in picking up women,” I blurt.

Baz

I think I’m hallucinating, because I could swear Simon Snow just told me he’s not interested in women. I’m standing halfway down the alleyway, my attempt to flee back through the side door forgotten, and Simon just keeps stepping closer to me.

“Baz,” he says urgently, and I close my eyes.

He’s so close, and I want to shake him and demand he explain himself, but I can’t seem to make myself move or do anything even remotely useful. I open my eyes, and he’s still looking at me with that unbearably sincere expression I’ve seen on his face a thousand times before. This is the first time it’s ever been directed at me, though.

“Baz, I want you to know that I still think about you a lot. I feel terrible for the way I treated you at Watford. I didn’t understand— I didn’t know anything; about myself, or the World of Mages, but especially not about you.”

I think that’s the most words I’ve ever heard Snow say in a row, and I’m reeling as I try to process everything he’s just said.

“If this is a joke, Snow,” I start, and he attempts to interrupt me, but I hold up a finger and he falls silent. “If this is some kind of joke, then you need to turn around and leave right now, and never fucking come back. I can have you and all your friends banned permanently, and no one here cares that you were some sort of teenage messiah.”

Simon looks stricken, as if I’ve just slapped him across the face.

“Fuck, Baz, I’m trying to apologize here,” he nearly whispers, and I push down a wave of guilt threatening to overwhelm me.

“Well, it’s a bit too little, too late, don’t you think, Snow? I know you’ve got some sort of complex about making everyone love you, but honestly, I’m just not that inter—”

Simon cuts me off by shoving his face into mine and kissing me directly on the mouth. I gasp, and he takes the opportunity to push his tongue between my lips, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me in close. I think I black out for a minute, but then my eyes fly open and I throw myself back, away from Simon, and end up pressed against the alley wall.

“What the fuck, Snow!”

“Shit, sorry, are you not into blokes?” he stammers. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have assumed, just because you work here—”

“I’m gay, Snow,” I cut him off flatly.

“Oh,” he says, staring at me dumbly.

“And you hate me,” I add.

“I really, really don’t,” Simon tells me, face open and honest, “but I understand if you still hate me. I’m sorry I pushed myself on you like that; I should have asked.”

“I don’t hate you, Simon,” I say quietly.

I take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to reorient myself as my entire world shifts on its axis. I hold my hand out to Simon, and he takes it in his without question.

“Merlin and Morgana, you’re freezing!” he cries, and I grimace. “We’ve been standing out here for ages and you’re not even wearing a proper shirt,” Simon continues, stepping back and shouldering out of the hideous cowboy shirt he’s wearing.

Underneath he has a plain, heathered grey t-shirt, and it suits him much better. Before I realize what’s happening, Simon slides his heinous cowboy shirt around my shoulders, and I’m enveloped in his smell and the warmth of his body.

“Do you want to go somewhere quieter to talk?” I ask impulsively.

“Don’t you have to work?”

“I only said that to get rid of you. My shift finished an hour ago.”

Simon nods, taking my hand again, and I lead him across the street to Duke’s, home of the most incredible falafel anywhere in the UK.

Simon

Baz and I are sitting on the same side of a tiny booth, eating some truly incredible gyros, and I’ve never been happier in my entire life.

“Everyone at Elysian is like my family,” Baz is telling me, and I can’t get enough of the way his eyes light up when he’s talking about something he cares about. “I mean, sure, they’re all Normals, but we all have something even more important than magic in common, and we’re all in it with each other, you know?”

I shake my head. I don’t know, but I’m really glad Baz has found a place where he’s so clearly loved.

“So, do you not talk to anyone from the World of Mages anymore at all?” I ask instead of answering.

Baz scoffs.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I talk to my family all the time. Plus, Trixie and Keris actually come to Elysian quite a lot; there’s a Ladies Who Love Ladies night.”

“Huh,” I grunt.

“Also Dev & Niall,” he adds.

“Can’t imagine the two of them enjoying this scene,” I chuckle, waving to the club across the street.

“They’re a couple, Snow.”

“Christ!” I exclaim, “was everyone gay at Watford, and I just never got the memo?”

Baz looks like he’s trying desperately not to laugh as he tells me, “clearly not everyone; there’s Bunce and what’s-his-face.”

“Shep’s bi,” I say distractedly, “and he didn’t go to Watford; he’s a Normal.”

“Penelope Bunce dating a Normal,” Baz says incredulously, “I can honestly say I did not have that one on my bingo card.”

I laugh. Baz makes me laugh. I finished my gyro ages ago, but he grins and ducks his head to finish his last bite, covering his mouth like he always did while eating.

“Why do you do that?” I ask him, because apparently I’m incapable of filtering a single thought before it pours out of my big mouth.

“Do what?”

“Cover your mouth when you eat. Is it because of your… you know?” I ask, raising my eyebrows up and down.”

Baz’s face closes off like someone switched off the light.

Shit.

“Because I don’t care about that!” I add quickly, “I know you’d never hurt anyone, I know you never, I mean— in fifth year, when I followed you, you never —”

“Force of habit,” Baz admits, looking down at the table, “I never used to be able to hide them when I was eating.”

“Your fangs?” I ask, stupidly.

Baz rolls his eyes.

“Sorry,” I mutter.

“It’s fine, Snow,” he says, but I don’t think he means it. “Now, this little high school reunion has been fun, but it’s almost two, and I should probably head home—”

Twisting in my seat, I reach up to cradle Baz’s face in both my hands. He takes a quick breath, and his eyes are worried. I look down at his lips, then back to his eyes, leaning in slowly and giving him plenty of time to pull back if he wants to. Baz’s eyes flutter closed, and his lips part slightly. I close the gap, pressing my lips to his for the second time tonight. After a moment, I can feel Baz relaxing, and his hands come up and slip onto my waist gently, like he’s afraid I’m going to disappear at any moment. I slide one hand into his soft hair, deepening the kiss as I press him closer.

[dreamkidddream]

Hello sunshine, would it be possible for you to write me some headcanons for my beloved Chuuya, Dazai and Atsushi? I was thinking about them having a fragil health s/o? Maybe they work an office job in the ada/pm and they somehow fall for the s/o? I hope this is no trouble and you have inspiration to write this. If you don't like this you can just ignore it. Thank you very much :)

Hi anon! Thank you for the request! So I’m assuming that when you say fragile health s/o is that the reader can get sick easily/overall very weak? I hope that I got the interpretation right, and I didn’t please feel free to send it in again so I can do it over for you. Reader is gender neutral, and hope you enjoy!

TW: Suicide (Dazai’s part, nothing heavy is mentioned, and it’s only in one line) and Abuse (Atsushi’s, nothing heavy is mentioned)

Easily Sick/Weak S/O with: Chuuya, Dazai, and Atsushi

Chuuya

Oh man, he hated this feeling. He already hated you even working in the Port Mafia (even though he was there too), but he hated it even more since you were weak physically

Don’t get him wrong, Chuuya knows that you’re a strong person through and through, but it was so easy for you to get hurt or sick working on the field, it honestly made him worried

What also made him worried was how he was falling for you and quickly. He’s an executive! He doesn’t have the time for romance, and what if (really when if because he wants you so bad you have no idea) someone decides to come after you because of your ties with him? It was already so easy for him to lose you now, he didn’t want to chance things and speed up the process

But, you were just...a really great person. You were determined, always kept your head up, didn’t take anything from anyone (you backtalked Mori once and still walked away with your throat intact, so that was a sign), and it didn’t help that you were really easy on the eyes (he couldn’t help it, you were already attractive, and those things were just icing on the cake for him)

Chuuya didn’t know how you could stand being in a stuffy office all day, so he always stopped by to check on some “information” for some “case he’s working on). It started out genuine, but then it became a daily occurrence, even on his rare days off. 

One thing about him is that he’s a true gentleman, he knows how to treat his partner right. Bringing lunch to you, flowers sitting on your desk for no reason with a random note (”Hope you have a good day”, “Saw these when I was out, made me think about you”, “These don’t even compare to how beautiful you are, inside and out”, etc.), driving you home no questions asked, even offering you his favorite bottle of wine to share

He knows that he’s being cheesy but he was pulling out all the stops just for you

He knew it was risky for you to be out all the time, so whenever he did finally ask you on an “official” date (you thought sharing his wine was a date but he said that he wanted to show you off, not just in the office), you guys were either in a fully reserved restaurant or at his place. Seriously the way his place looks was like luxury! Damn you knew his job paid good money but wow! This was better than going out honestly

He confessed when you went over to his house one night. It was a particularly rough day for you both, and you just needed some reassurance which Chuuya was happy to give. It seemed like he went on for hours, but really it wasn’t too long, and you were in tears by the end of it. When he ended it with, “anyone would be beyond lucky to have you (Y/N), and I wish it were me. I wish I would have the chance to show you how much I really do love you, words aren’t enough for me. I’ll take the chance if you let me, and I swear you won’t regret it. Be mine, (Y/N), I’ll treat you like you deserve, and you deserve more than the world.”

You both understood the risks that came with dating you, but he swore that he would protect you with his life. If you did get sick, he couldn’t be there for you during the day because of his work, but he made sure to text you every hour on the hour to check on you and as soon as he got home, it was caretaker mode until you both went to bed

He bought you your medicine, the fluffiest pillows ever known to man, I mean did everything and anything. The dude was loaded, money was not an issue obviously

Chuuya is a great boyfriend, and will honestly do anything it takes to keep you safe and happy. He loves you after all, and he doesn’t mind all the extra work that comes with it (he doesn’t even see it as work, just precautions, which still isn’t a problem)

Dazai

He was not only worried about your health and safety, but also the fact that he was falling for you. Dazai was a very secretive person who didn’t like to show his true feelings, and he was scared of what he’s feeling for you. Him being attached and actually caring about people never paid off for him, as his past would tell you...

But here you were, being a bright, shining light in his cruel, bleak, dark world. He tried to keep his distance at first, but he couldn’t help but be drawn to you. You were so fun to be around, despite your condition! You always helped as much as you could in the office, being the first one to pick up on his work when he was too lazy busy to complete it and having reports ready for any meetings, even on short notice. You looked out for him, both as a coworker and as a caring friend, and he could tell

You even helped him annoy Kunikida sometimes, which just made you even more stunning in his eyes

He felt himself falling for you more and more everyday, finding excuses to stay in the office just to be next to you. “(Y/N), please don’t strain yourself my dear! Let me handle this for you, I would be a terrible suitor if I didn’t.” “Dazai, I just have to staple these- nevermind, thank you my knight wrapped in bandages!” 

Kunikida would of course hate this and drag him out every time, but all that it concluded in was Dazai whining and complaining about how it was so unfair that he was being kept from his “precious (Y/N)” and how they must be so lonely without him. It got to a point where Kunikida made a compromise with him: if he actually does some work and help on the field missions, then he can spend more time with you in the office

I feel like they forget that Dazai is actually crazy smart and most likely already knows the culprits to whatever cases that they are handling, and he was definitely waiting for this outcome. No extra work for him and more time with you. It’s a win-win!

When he does eventually accept that he was in too deep, he started to take his advances in a more serious manner (I mean he was always being serious but he was not going to hold back anymore). He’s a great listener, so anything that said wanted that was said in passing conversation, expect it to be on your desk with a little sticky note. You had a strong craving for something? What do you know, Dazai brought just enough for both of you to share (and he gave you the bigger portion of it). You want to go see the stars? Sounds like the perfect date night for you two!

That’s how he actually confessed to you, right underneath the stars. It was perfect, you guys were away from everyone, having an amazing time just stargazing. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this at peace, and you were to thank for that. He knew that while he was risking his life on a daily basis, but you were constantly fighting for yours. You couldn’t even go on a mission with how easy it was for you to get an injury you couldn’t recover from. But he had faith in you and in himself, that he wouldn’t let another person that he cares for perish in front of him. He made that promise to you, and that he would do everything in his power to keep it. He will not fail you

After that night, your dates were usually held at your place, and it ranged from cooking together to having movie nights. You didn’t have to spend money really, you were both fine in the house in each other’s arms. And if you did get sick, you thought he was clingy before, WHEW did it get more intense

You had to push him off of you too many times to count. What part of NO HUGS did this man not get?! You were already suffering, he didn’t need to either. He did try to make this a double suicide opportunity though, and you were not very happy

Was banned from cuddles for 3 weeks straight, it was pure torture for him

You were Dazai’s distraction from this horrible joke he called a life, and he was welcoming of you. He embraced you, never complained about your weakness or anything. You were someone that he can proudly say that he loves, and that won’t ever change

Atsushi

He was so nervous, so scared. He doesn’t even know how to look everyone in the eye, how was he suppose to admit that he started to like you more than a friend?!

Atsushi was in love with you, I mean he was in deep. He couldn’t help it! You’re just so nice, so easy to talk to, always there to give him a pep talk and just keep him in high spirits. It just wasn’t fair what hand life had dealt you. He wanted to spend time with you outside of the office, but due to your delicate situation, he was so scared to. What if the Port Mafia tried to strike and he wasn’t strong enough or quick enough to protect you? He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if you died because of him. He wouldn’t be able to live-

So he tried (keyword: tried) to spend time with you at work. But with Kunikida on his ass about work, and Dazai being Dazai making his life difficult for his own amusement, made it difficult. Every time he got a chance, before he could even speak a word, someone needed him for something. If he did somehow had the spare time to talk to you, he would either choke or say something that he really meant but chickened out last minute and tried to change it (which was kinda your fault, you like to tease him sometimes too)

“So, um, (Y/N). I remembered that you said you liked that one takeout spot, so if you want I can bring you some back?”

“You would do that for me, Atsushi? Wow, it’s almost like you’re like my boyfriend!”

“Yep, I don’t mind! It makes me happy when you’re hap-w-WAIT HU-“

But besides that, he always checked on your whenever he got back from his missions (even if he was the one injured and bleeding), brought you back small trinkets or food, and always walked you home, not caring if it was out of his way

He hated that you were confined to the office majority of your time working, but he was worried that literally anything could and would happen on his watch, and he didn’t want to risk it. With Kyoka tired of watching him in distress and even Dazai showing a sliver of compassion for him, they helped him set up an inside date

But first, he had to ask you. Dazai wanted him to do some elaborate, over the top, proposal for asking you out (which Atsushi was pretty sure that he just wanted him to panic and embarrass himself) and Kyoka suggested that he gets you tofu (which he was also convinced that she just wanted some again). He decided that he was just going to have to suck it up, and do it himself. He has been through Hell and back, and if he survived that, then he could ask you on a date damn it!

So he finally got some courage, and directly went up to your desk. When you looked up, you flinched back. What was with the intense look in his eyes?! But you realized soon enough when he bowed and asked you to come over for a date. And of course you said yes!

The date was marvelous, and the poor boy was sweating so much you thought he was going to pass out! Whatever Dazai and Kyoka did to the place blew his expectations out of the water. Latern lights strung up along the walls, your favorite meals readied, little messages stuck to the wall made just for you, and the biggest/most comfortable blanket fort that you had ever seen. It sounded so simple, but one look into your eyes and you were overjoyed. He really did mean it that it made him happy that you were happy

He confessed with you snuggled into his side, so anxious yet at ease. Despite everything that he has gone through, you were brave too. You were stuck in that stressful environment, had a body that could quit on you after one bad day, yet you still encouraged him every day, every time you spoke to him after he’s had a bad day, or an encounter with Akutagawa. He was so convinced that he didn’t you, that he didn’t deserve anything good in his life after the abuse he endured at the orphanage. But you didn’t let him believe that for a second, and he’s indebted to you for that

He poured his heart out to you that night, and ever since, he’s been a lot more confident, both in his ability and in himself. You gave him that push in the right direction to trust himself more, and everyone could see the change (Dazai was pretty proud to be honest)

Dates after that were spent at his apartment, relaxing. Once in a blue moon, you guys would go to the arcade where he won you guys matching Tiger phone charms (he was a little embarrassed but he loved you and the charms too much to let it affect him)

If you did become ill, he would panic so bad that you had to bring him back down to Earth while hacking up a lung (not literally but it felt like it). He tries his best, he’s a little shaken because of how distraught he would get due to your fragile body, but he does care for you pretty well. If you need anything, he was too scared to leave you so Kyoka would be his go-to (with the promise of tofu afterwards)

(But don’t worry she’s a little worried for you too)

Atsushi knew he could never forget the horrors that he experienced at the orphanage, but you reminded him of the strength he had to not let it hold him back. He was your hero without a doubt, but you were his in the sense of how strong you really are, and how you didn’t know or believe it when he told you. You became an overall positive influence on his life, and helped him see life a little brighter and more meaningful. He loves you more than you could imagine, and he would continue to prove it to you in everything that he does.

[k0kichiimagines]

mikan, sonia and celeste (separately) patching up their fem s/o when she gets hurt? (omg i need a woman's touch immediately pain) thank you !!

no me too ‼️ g,,girls,,ppretty!! i hope u enjoy nonnie and sorry its s bit short!

- mod kichi

Mikan Tsumiki | Sonia Nevermind | Celeste Lundenberg X F!S/O hurting herself

CW: non graphic mentions of injuries / cuts

____

MIKAN TSUMIKI:

A wrong landing, a sudden jolt, and you felt yourself crumble to the ground, hearing your girlfriend's worried yell behind you. She rushed up to you, questioning you and generally fretting nervously. "I'm okay, I'm okay." you tried to reassure her, but upon standing you felt a pain tear through your ankle.

"Y-you must have twisted your ankle!" She scooped you up, despite her seemingly weak frame, and gently carried you to her office, which luckily wasn't too far away. She placed you on the seat, quickly grabbing bandages and ice packs, skilled fingers making quick work of wrapping your ankle nicely. Despite her usual clumsy behaviour, her hands were steady, face concentrated.

She pressed the ice pack against your ankle, propping it up on a stool. "I-it's not too bad, you should heal quickly." She flushed when you thanked her, smiling warmly. "A-ah of course! I'll make sure you g-get some rest and things.." She pressed a kiss to your forehead. "A-and I can carry you to where you need to go!" She was about to demonstrate when you gently stopped her.

"That's alright sweetheart, thank you!" She nodded. "However, whatever you just gave me really helped, I think I might need more."

"Hm?" She blinked for a second before it clicked. "Oh...Oh! Oh the k-kiss? Um, yes! Of course!" She happily obliged, pressed soft kisses around your face. Her lips were inches away from yours when she suddnely gasped.

"I-I forgot to give you pain killers! Forgive me!" She hurriedly rushed to get you some, leaving you slightly dazed and confused.

SONIA NEVERMIND:

In hindsight maybe walking on the wall rather than the pavement wasn't the best idea, even more so since you were right next to a hedge. But you had, and you'd tumbled back, falling right in one. Sonia had yelled after you, and quickly pulled you out, bur you could see tiny red lines forming on your arms.

"Oh, S/O we must get you home!" She pleaded you to agree, her eyes worried, and you complied. You had half expected her to call a nurse, but she took matters into her own hands. A silence fell over you before she sighed. "I'm afraid I'm unsure what to use.."

You gently pointed her in the right direction, and she smiled, getting to work on cleaning the small wounds. She sung softly as she did so, an old lullaby from her kingdom, as an attempt to help distract you from the throbbing sting of the cream. You were sure you didn't need all of the cuts dealt with, there were so many after all, but you didn't fight her, knowing her stubborn nature wouldn't allow it.

She afterwards pulled out a packet of plasters, covered in cute faces and patterns. "These were my favourite growing up! However... I was rarely allowed them, they were not deemed proper. I think they would look splendid on you though!" And she peeled them, placing each gently on the longer cuts. You grabbed one yourself, placing it on her cheek as her expression fell into one of suprisment.

"I think you look very proper. And pretty." She giggled but blushed, thanking you with a kiss to your nose.

CELESTE LUNDENBERG:

It had been a great idea at first, the two of you spending some time together and cooking a pleasant meal. It had taken some convincing and promises to get her to agree, but she seemed at ease helping once she got here.

But of course it went wrong. You felt the knife slip and hissed in pain as a red line formed on your finger. Her head whipped around, gasping softly. "I told you this was dangerous!" she muttered, dropping her utensil and, softly, pulling you by your hand. She scolded you lightly, telling you to be careful, as she pulled out what she needed, cleaning the wound with a careful precision.

You saw the concern on her features, only cracks through her poker face but still there, heard the quiet apology when you cringed from the stinging pain. She wrapped the bandage on, holding the hurt hand. "Now, be careful." She pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I can't have my queen and future wife getting herself hurt, can I?"

She smiled in amusement at your pink cheeks and stuttered reply. "I believe we should stop for the day, but I know you will insist we persist...correct?"

"Of course!"

"Alright. However you are now banned from knives, no complaints." She stroked your hands softly, contrast from her almost blunt manner of speaking. Yet it held kindness and worry as well, and she clasped your hand as she led you back.

And she meant it, no more knives for the rest of the day for you. Or even week.

[blee-bloop-im-a-bee]

a scuffed scuffed podcast summary/liveblogging?

(mostly focused on dream, quotes might be off but its the general gist, timestamps not exact to second lol)

- Praise and congratulations all around for Sapnap and Punz’s valorant skills 

- Dream: “well I woke up this morning and I found out I was a racist soo..” (context: Someone asked Jack how he felt about the Queen being racist and he replied that doesn’t really know anything about that and that he didn’t really care)

- They didn’t get into it though, Train said he was never going to get into Dream’s drama on this podcast (which he remarks is because it gives him anxiety, but I appreciate him for doing it nonetheless)

- on Tubbo joining in: Train confirming he would need a different cast because he’s concerned about Tubbo’s audience (& parents) and wants to set up another podcast properly where it would be more appropriate for them, to which Dream comments is respectable.  

- Dream mentioned geoguessr

- after Train’s weird (/lh) intro for dream 1:22:00---

     Dream: “You didn’t mention--oh nevermind it’s fine” 

     (Me, wondering if he was talking about his drama still)

     Train: “OH YEAH, AND ONE OF THE FATTEST C**** IN  HISTORY”

     Dream laughing and going “you didn’t mention it, you mentioned it for everyone else..” 

- Ludwig on having to limit his subs: yeah I’ve had to limit them but I found that some people have still managed to get around that

     “I don’t think anybody would try to get around that”- Dream

- They talked about the david dobrik drama, I didn’t care so much for the topic so I spaced out but Dream put in some thoughts about someone’s apology it seemed like he wasn’t on board with it (sorry I wasn’t paying attention)

- Dream, was that you that mentioned jenna marbles? (1:41:35) crumbs of my favorite ccs colliding??

- Dream: acknowledging the difficulty of females coming forward to speak out against creators for fear of being lashed out at by the fanbase (1:42:00)

- Abdou: Do you think big creators actually don’t realize the power they have?          Will: I think it’s more that they start forgetting that their fanbase are still real people... (neat food for thought, they were still talking in the context of david dobrik but because they were also mentioning how he achieved fame at a young age, i couldn’t help but think about dream)---- dream said nothing during this part

- topic on among us, Dream chiming in at 1:51:00 (spaced out didn’t listen)

- spaced out more, dream’s face reveal went trending on twitter apparently just cause of an earlier mixup when punz’s face showed up in the box where dream’s name was 

- in the background, dream was also on his private twt to reassure a fan commenting on how moe brought up dream’s fans negatively (i remember moe bringing us up but i didn’t catch the context)

- ~2:10:00 ish?? Youtube talk, dream didn’t say much :(

- Dream once again declaring that Ludwig will definitely keep streaming until the end of the month and that he’ll make sure of it

- Ludwig saying Dweam

- Ludwig not leaving until he heard Dream say goodbye which dream claims he did, and that Ludwig couldn’t pick and choose his goodbyes. Ludwig threatened to ban Dream’s alt to which Dream was like “NO no no don’t i want to be able to read your chat”

- Dream, loudly: “I have never had sushi” (not unprompted, they were talking about sushi, but I just liked how he said it-- he used the voice)

- Dream lore: He had walmart sushi. He got roasted for it (deserved)

- Talking about cancel culture:: ~~2:53:00        2:57:30 Dream brings up his drama and summarizes it but does agree that if he those videos about him been true, he should be cancelled (I think that was his gist?)

      Train’s point is that there is too many people who are quick to cancel, but when they are wrong, do nothing to make things right ie. Johnny Depp situation

      Moe acknowledging that theres a culture of bandwagoning on hating on popular creators

       3:01:00 Will bringing together all the points & mentioning Kacey and kpop stans bringing up the time they bought out trumps speech tickets- and hopes that all of the stans (kpop, minecraft) continue to have this passion when they turn 18 to affect the ballots

- Train talking about weebs and about to go a buck fifty, dream and karl were warning him to “be careful” lmao (i think train said something about how its always the ones with anime pfps saying the weirdest shit)

- I wonder what dream is doing while they’re all talking about manga/comics- I’m waiting for him to come in and say: I have never watched anime in that voice he didn’t end up saying this

Dream: “Gorillas are really strong..” King kong vs. Godzilla convo

Dream saying something about spiderman, then Train calling spiderman a pussy and like wtf man I was starting to think you were alright, and then talking over dream?? unforgiveable. /j

-oop they’re going back into cancel culture when Train reads out a tweet: ~3:34:00     I can’t summarize this, this is a little too deep for my sleepy brain, but I feel like train is talking about how quick to judge people are almost being ready to jump the gun just to cancel someone thinking that that person wanted to cancel him, but Dream is pointing out that both sides don’t really understand each other and that person probably wasn’t trying to cancel Train. Jack also spoke up to help clarify to which you could hear Dream agreeing.

     Dream acknowledges that there is a need for creators to make an effort to understand discussion that goes around and to be respectful at the same time, admitting that he’s reacted in anger in the past and disregarded discussions. 

     ^ There were a lot of points made, and I didn’t get all of dream’s responses. It was interesting conversation because we have Train being honest and venting his frustrations about cancel culture which I can sympathize with.  Dream (and Jack) spoke up a lot during the whole thing to try to shift Train’s point of view and the things he said were really admirable 

     Dream brings up the thing that happened with charlie a while back and said he dm’d charlie about that misunderstanding as dream puts it- and says that they are good now and saying something along the lines of open communication being so important

- Someone: “the only thing that matters is that my wife doesn’t cancel me.”      Dream: “that’s really sweet”  <- no u

-  “Would you let your kids watch on Twitch” Dream: As long as you’re aware and know about Twitch and Youtube, and as long as you teach your kids internet safety it should be fine

- Dream, on Train saying he hopes everyone will still be friends with him after this: “I actually hate you now” (in a joking tone). Dream wants to play among us with Train.     Dream, prompted to say one nice thing about Train and also the last words he said on the podcast: “An attractive motherfucker.”

[dragonsareawesome123]

 Johnny’s initial Facebook message to Ali has the same energy as Paul’s initial letter to Aster in The Half of It.

[Photo ID, First picture: Facebook message written in all caps by Johnny Lawrence to Ali Mills that reads: “AND THEN IN 1992, IRON EAGLE 3 CAME OUT. YOU KNOW WHAT? I DON’T CARE WHAT THE CRITICS SAY, I THOUGHT IT WAS PRETTY GOOD. NOT AS GOOD AS IRON EAGLE 1 AND IRON EAGLE 2, BUT HEY, WHAT MOVIE IS? I THINK WAYNE’S WORLD WAS THAT YEAR TOO. THAT ONE WAS OKAY. THOSE NERDS HAD GREAT TASTE IN MUSIC. AND THE CHICK WAS HOT. WHAT WAS SHE DOING WITH HIM? HOW COME THE HOT CHICKS GO FOR THE LOSERS IN THESE MOVIES? ANYWAY, OTHER THAN THAT 1992 WAS A PRETTY QUIET YEAR. GOT FIRED AGAIN, BUT WHAT THE HELL DO THEY KNOW. I DIDN’T LIKE CONSTRUCTION ANYWAY. THEY ALL SPEAK SPANISH AND I’M PRETTY SURE THEY WERE MAKING FUN OF ME SOMETIMES. DO YOU KNOW WHAT A “GRINGO” IS? I STARTED LEARNING A LITTLE BIT OF SPANISH FROM MIGUEL AND HIS FAMILY. I KNOW “HOLA”, “PLANTAIN”, “TACO”, AND “DINERO” PRETTY GOOD, HUH? WHERE WAS I? OH, RIGHT, 1993. THERE WAS THAT DINOSAUR MOVIE. PRETTY GOOD FOR THE NINETIES. I MEAN, NOT ANYWHERE NEAR WHAT WE HAD BACK IN THE DAY. REMEMBER PREDATOR? THAT MOVIE WAS BADASS! THIS DINOSAUR THING WAS PRETTY COOL BUT TOO MUCH SCIENCEY STUFF FOR ME. I GUESS YOU PROBABLY LIKED THAT THOUGH, RIGHT? I MEAN, YOU’RE A DOCTOR NOW. I COULD NEVER BE A DOCTOR, NOT AFTER THAT INCIDENT AT COMMUNITY COLLEGE (I TALKED ABOUT THAT A COUPLE PARAGRAPHS AGO. DOES FACEBOOK LET YOU GO BACK AND REREAD?) STILL THINK THEY OVERREACTED, ALL THE GREAT SCIENTISTS SET THINGS ON FIRE, RIGHT? LIKE EINSTEIN OR WHOEVER. ANYWAY, 1993. DUTCH GOT ARRESTED. THAT ONE WAS PRETTY STUPID. I WAS DRUNK FOR MOST OF IT, BUT I’M PRETTY SURE HE HOTWIRED A GOLF CART FROM THE COUNTRY CLUB. I LOOKED UP FROM THE BAR AND DUTCH IS DRIVING THIS THING AT HIGH SPEED, OR I GUESS AS HIGH AS SOMETHING LIKE THAT CAN GO, AND CRASHES IT INTO THE POOL! THEY HAD TO BRING A CRANE IN TO GET IT OUT. HE DID SOME TIME BUT IT WAS WORTH IT! ANYWAY, I DON’T THINK I’VE BEEN BACK TO THE COUNTRY CLUB SINCE THEN. SID WON’T LET THEM BAN ME BUT THOSE GUYS ARE ALL UPTIGHT. AND THEY ONLY SERVE FOREIGN BEER. IT’S OFFENSIVE. WE WON TWO WORLD WARS DRINKING AMERICAN BEER. WHAT THE HELL HAS BELGIUM EVER DONE EXCEPT GET INVADED? WHO WANTS TO DRINK THAT SHIT? I THINK I GOT OFF TOPIC AGAIN, LET’S GET BACK TO THE MID-NINETIES. 1994 WAS A SLOW YEAR. THE NINETIES SUCKED. MAN, YOU TURNED ON THE RADIO AND IT WAS JUST CRAP. WHO WRITES A SONG ABOUT BEING A LOSER? AND ALL THOSE GRUNGEY TYPES WITH THE FLANNEL. LET ME TELL YOU MUSIC IS SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT BEING BADASS AND AWESOME, NOT ABOUT WANTING TO KILL YOURSELF. THAT SHIT CAN’T BE GOOD FOR KIDS TO HEAR, RIGHT? LOOK AT ME, WORRYING ABOUT WHAT THE KIDS ARE HEARING. I GUESS BEING A PARENT CHANGES YOU, NOT THAT I’M ALL THAT GREAT OF A PARENT. WELL, MIGUEL SEEMS TO LIKE ME OKAY. ROBBY DOESN’T. I MESSED THAT ONE UP PRETTY GOOD. CAN’T EVEN GET THE KID TO TALK TO ME ANYMORE. HE’S STUCK IN THERE FOR A FEW MORE MONTHS, AND HE’S GOT NOBODY. HE WON’T TAKE MY CALLS. I HOPE HIS MOM IS TALKING TO HIM AT LEAST. I THINK IT MIGHT BE TOO LATE FOR ME AND HIM. I MESSED UP TOO MANY TIMES. NOT THAT I’M A TOTAL SCREW UP. I’VE DONE SOME GOOD STUFF TOO! WHICH BRINGS ME TO 1995 AND HOW I MADE TWO GRAND BETTING ON THE OJ TRIAL]

[Photo ID, Second picture: Letter written by Paul Munsky to Aster Flores that reads: Dear Aster Flores, I think your really beautiful. But even if you were ugly, I’d want to know you. Cuz you are smart and nice too. It’s hard to find all those things in one girl. But even if you were only two of those things, Id be into it. But your like all three. Just to be clear. About me. I’m kind of cute. Some people think I’m the cutest one in my family! Those people being my grandma who’s dead now. Nevermind about my dead grandma. All I am saying is that I like fries. I like dipping them in my milkshake, is that weird? It’s actually really tasty. Would you like to try that with me sometime? I work part time and I have a truck! Let me know whenever. Thanks, Paul Munsky, second-string tight end. Football.]

[thosemintcookies]

Ok it's wild how for my entire life up until now, I felt like there's been this messaging of "Asians don't have it as bad as other poc"

And like, yeah, you know what? That's true in some ways, especially in terms of the realtive wealth of Asian Americans compared to other poc counterparts.

Its worth it to note that historically, Asians were not enslaved by Whites, and we are settlers, this is not our ancestral land. I think it goes to show that culture and thought is complex. Like, Asian American racism is especially pernicious because statistically, its not as visible as other forms of systemic racism.

(Sure, we've been saying it for decades that stereotypes of our sexual docility or inadequcy, the exoticization and cultural disgust for our food, the lack of media representation, etc etc have been hurting us, but it was always treated like there were bigger issues.)

The thing is, this racism is like this:

1. Asians, being a group thought to voluntarily migrate (and due to a long history of immigration suppression, this migration has to be relatively recent, and therefore conceptually voluntary) are seen as a people who are "more assimilable" and therefore, "better" than other poc

2. Due to the aforementioned recency and voluntary nature of Asian migration to the Americas, the people who are able to migrate tend to be from families with the socioeconomic means to do so. Richer families, higher education. Many Asian Americans are therefore, in a better spot to take on "higher paying" jobs in 2nd gen because we were brought up to value education and wealth. This is a systemic thing, not that "Asians are inherently smarter." Back on our ancestral countries, the seeming "racial" disparities in intelligence disappear.

3. Bans on misegenation and women migrants, preventing Asian men from seeking out sexual intimacy, along with Asian sexual exoticization and fetishization from war propaganda, and then later on, the simultaneous desexualization of our men and hypersexualization of our women. We are seen as sexually unaggressive to White Women and yielding to the White Man.

4. So, here we have a triangulation of things that comprise the Asian American identity in relation to Whiteness. We are seen as malleable and childish, a microcosm of White Settler Colonialism, because after the White people have Colonized, we have become their pet project. The model minority, who are special because we are not seen as incongruous with White supremacy, we are seen as wanting to pander to it through assimilation. And look! We came to the Americas because we *wanted* to! We were not forced here through violence, and we did not suffer genocide! That's practically privilege!

5. Let's not forget that our backgrounds make us Good Workers. We are taught, because of our parents who were able to migrate due to their privileges, that structure is good. Work hard and become more than yourself. And being in a capitalist system, white people are more than willing to exploit that.

6. Unfortunately, Asianness is then pitted against other experiences of racialization and racial injustice. Again, we did not suffer genocide. The removal of our generational stories, the labour we produce, its all painted as voluntary. Nevermind that the feeling of being decentralized in diaspora is only ever so voluntary. How much pain do I feel when I cannot share in the brilliance of my family due to my mother tongue being lost to me?

(But White people can wash their hands of it. We "chose" this)

And yes, it's true that there are ways we have not suffered. We are not seen as dangerous "gangsters". We were not murdered en masse for conquest.

But the deep, rotten root of it all is the same. We could never be equal to White People because they still considered us "not quite human"

That Asian-americans are statistically better off doesn't reveal the true ugliness of our dehumanization because our dehumanization is based on the very notion that we're "White-lite(TM), keep working hard, bud, you'll get there eventually"

But the reality is, it's not a dial that places us closer to social parity. It's a switch. "Dehumanized" or "human". These are the only two options. Thus far, it has been manifesting in our infantilization and exoticism. Patronizingly, we have been given some cessions so that White Supremacy can claim progress because it seems there is a race that is not outright hated by Whites.

But the expression of that racism can turn on a dime, and we can face racist violence and it is completely unsurprising because the logic, the cultural understanding of Asians has stayed consistent. We are still not seen as people.

I want no part in siding with white supremacy. I don't care if Whites have historically given us peanuts which were denied our other poc brothers and sisters. I'm not going to fight for scraps, I'm going to seize the table. There is no future but poc solidarity because the same logic of White Supremacy has been keeping us all down. Our relation to each other is not a hierarchy of race where Asians are in the middle. It is the same dehumanization all around, even if it shows in different ways.

The reality is: my parents being cussed out for their lack of English ability. Them working long, hard, low paying jobs so that we could eat and go to school. My father dying of health complications from being overworked. Never being able to share our generational stories because our tongues are not mutually intelligible. The reality is: being pulled over when we did nothing wrong because the cop thought my parents couldn't argue being ticketed (they couldn't. I've had to deal with cops at 8 years old to speak for them). The reality is: growing up ugly, with a funny name that would be changed to "gung hay, fat choy" and "Ching chong". The reality is: my academic achievements being undervalued because I'm Asian and anything above 80% didn't count. The reality is: "Oh I love Asian women." The reality is: "your English is so good!" The reality is: "Koreans are so much nicer than Chinese, and Indians are way too loud." The reality is we were never welcomed with open arms, and we were never made to feel like we belonged here

I'm going to take a nap now.

[kpopchangedme]

Midnight Somewhere | Bang Chan

It’s the last day of the year at work and the lack of supervision has apparently made your coworker lose sight of your office dating ban.

Protagonists: Bang Chan & You

Word Count: 2.6k

Genre: SFW - Office Romance -  Best Friend - Humour - [Drabble 2k]

Prompt: “You’re up to something, and I want in” 

Requested by: @chessireneko​, I hope you like it!

Lys’ note: I wish you all a wonderful new decade! Happy New Year! (Don’t come @ me for being late, this is still my first fic of 2020 after all)

Stray Kids | M.list

It’s a slow day at the office but that’s pretty standard. Between Christmas and New Year’s Eve, most of the company’s employees don’t even bother coming in. If no one is working upstairs to have tech issues, phones on your floor remain silent.

Still, every year, two employees of the nerd squad need to report for duty and it’s usually the loners, foreigners or asocial. You don’t belong to any of those categories but you’re one of the chosen ones this New Year’s Eve. Your whole family went on a Holiday trip to Bora Bora, abandoning you behind. Of course, you could be in worse company. You mostly agreed to come in knowing you’d be all alone with your work friend… And long-standing crush.

In front of you, Chan is ridiculously stretched, feet resting on the desk of his absent neighbour and head thrown behind. You spend every weekday facing the other, your computer’s screens back to back. You’ve been working together for two years, his family is back in Australia so he doesn’t bother with Holidays. The young man’s chair is tilted back precariously, unbalanced. His eyes are covered with a sleeping mask, a phone headset messily thrown on his head. He’s not sleeping though, just aggressively hungover. For some reason, his empty coffee mug – his second one – doesn’t seem to be helping much.

“I hear you, Mr. Radcliff,” you assure in your own headset, opening Minesweeper on your computer, “Yes. Yes. Of course. No. No, Yang is not here today. He’ll be coming back in two days. Yes.”

Chan slides up his mask to gaze at you curiously and you make eye contact. His eyes are bloodshot, matching his bedraggled looks quite nicely. The head of Marketing you’re on the phone with – Raymond T. Radcliff – is a divorced workaholic, infamous at tech support for his lack of both humanity and computer skills. Every time he breaks something, he calls to yell at whoever picks up, eventually requesting to speak to a supervisor. Today, for better or worse, you’re flying solo. Smile, Chan mouths you, grinning, they can hear your smile. That’s Yang’s motto, but the boss isn’t here to breathe down your neck. You flip your hungover friend the bird and his dimples dig deeper. At least someone’s having fun. 

Radcliff’s rant lasts for a whole hour, by the end of it you have switched to Mahjong. From the corner of your eye, you see Chan’s starting the drip coffee maker again. Frowning, you perk up and spin on your chair to be sure you aren’t hallucinating. He must be in pretty bad shape because he’s the only human in the whole building who is not addicted to caffeine. It’s like he has a superpower, he rarely drinks it. You though the pot from this morning was exceptional, but him brewing a second one must mean he’s on the brink of death.

“Um-Um.” You hum for Radcliff, unbelievingly following Chan’s movements as he fills the water tank, puts a new paper filter on and presses brew. That’s something you don’t witness every day. “Yes. Yes. I’ll spread the wor–” There’s a loud clicking noise when the Marketing god hangs up and you’re left hanging in the middle of a sentence. “What an ass!”

Chan laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. His back is turned on you, built shoulders perfectly outlined by his too-tight dress shirt. He has been hitting the gym in 2019. It’s an older one that doesn’t fit as well anymore, you haven’t seen it in months, he probably couldn’t be bothered with laundry these days. Usually, he’s tidy and clean-cut, the only thing that never screams ‘profesh’ about him is his perpetually dishevelled dark curls.

“What an ass,” he echoes and you twitch in surprise. You had drifted away, too busy shamelessly gawking at him. Bouncing back, you run fingers through your bangs, entangling them. "You okay?” 

Meeting his perplexed gaze, you smile, “Yeah, sorry I just…” Trailing off, you desperately search for something to say but Chan saves the day. 

“You know, it has its perks, holding the fort with me while everyone’s away at home…” Claiming so, he brings a mug full of hot beverage under his nose, inhaling it before winking suspiciously. He’s hinting at something. “You just need to make the most of it.”

“Christopher Bang, you’re up to something…” Glad he doesn’t seem to have noticed you staring, you cross your arms over your chest and circle the office to join him against the counter. In the meantime, Chan sips his coffee with the smile of an angel. “And I want in…” When you’ve made it, he offers you his mug and one draft is enough to make you shrink back. Your eyes round in shock. “You’re drinking!”

He gasps, faking to take offence; “Am not! It’s coffee!” He would have a lot more impact if he didn’t look half as bad as he did at your November company’s Christmas party… And you remember all too well how that ended. The dust has just settled down between you too, things barely back to normal. Chan’s all wobbly and intense eye-contact, definitely tipsy.

“More like coffee-flavoured whiskey!”

“Uh?” Chan pouts and looks down his mug, tilting it dangerously; “Then no wonder I like it so much.”

“You’re impossible,” you laugh despite yourself, glancing at the elevator doors, “I thought you were curing your hangover.”

“Care to join on the fun?” He pulls out a whiskey bottle, poorly concealed behind the box of Froot Loops tagged ‘Han’ in capital letters. “The best hangover cure I know is to never stop.”

“We’re at work, Bang.”

“Alone, together. It’s New Year’s Eve.”

You scoff, “It’s still early.”

Unbothered, he gulps the amber liquid without breaking eye-contact. “It’s midnight somewhere.” He’s the one drinking, but somehow it’s your throat that is burning, staring when his tongue darts through his lips.

“We could get caught,” you hush, winded. Chan always has that effect on you. It might be the facing-each-other-all-day but there’s a spark, more than your simple crush. A mutual attraction you would definitely have acted on years ago if it weren’t of your no-dating office policy. Whenever you go out for drinks with the nerd squad, it always resurfaces, enough for the others to blatantly call you two out. If they only knew.

“Oh no, and lose the most fulfilling job ever? Who would Radcliff yell at?” He smiles, sipping again. “You don’t have to join me, don’t worry. I know how hard it is for you to let loose, y/l/n.”

“Hey,” you breathe out, irked, “I let loose.”

“Do you?” He tilts his head, playful, “When was the last time?” You both know when. You’re about to tell him off when his desk’s phone rings. Chan chuckles, pressing a button on his headset. “Lemon Tech Support. Christopher Bang.” Not breaking eye-contact, you quirk a brow defiantly, stealing away his mug. Chan watches intently as the white ceramic meets your lips, gulping himself when you drink the peaty liquid. “How can I assist you?” He reaches for your bangs, gently combing them back into place with his fingers and your heart races. There. There’s the thing between you again. If he wasn’t already flushed from the liquor, you bet his ears would colour cutely. 

Feeling your whole body combust at the intimate gesture, you drink the rest of the lukewarm coffee in one go. If you weren’t at work if there were no ban… You’d scratch that itch. You kissed at that Christmas party and you know you’re doomed to do it again. You just didn’t think you’d crave it so soon. Seeing you shoot the alcohol, Chan’s eyes darken, lips pressing into a thin line.  

"Dark?” Humming his approval in the mic of his headset, he moves to press you against the counter. Your surprise doesn’t seem to affect him much. “I see…” Chan gazes down at you through his eyelashes, palm climbing your hip and waist slowly. He must have lost his damn mind. “Yes,” he breathes out ludicrously serious, “I understand it is very frustrating. We should do something about it.” Is he talking about you two or to the person at the other end of the line? “Have you tried turning it on and off again, Janice?” Nevermind. Despite the situation, you can’t help but chuckle at the sheer plain mockery in his tone. 

When you try to slide away to safety, Chan expertly prevents your escape, smirking. You hate him. You hate how he knows you won’t resist. Hate that you can’t do anything, just remain stunned, wishing for more. His hand has stopped, fitting the curve of your waist perfectly. His thumb is on the side of your stomach and you can feel him through your thick shirt. Maybe it’s all those years just looking at each other because even this little is much. You feel light-headed and not from the whiskey. 

“Fantastic. You’ll just need to reenter your Intranet password after the restart.” Chan’s face is still sliced up in two. “It might take a while… Of course, I’ll hold the line.” His eyes glimmer of mischief when he pushes the mute button, it’s clear what he has in mind now. “Hey. This is nice.”

"This is not allowed,” you hush as if someone could hear, aware neither of you cares anymore, “and you are woozy.” 

Chan shakes his head, “I was when we were under the mistletoe, but you were perfectly sober.” You’re still holding on to the mug and it presses against your chest when he leans closer. “Yet, you kissed me.”

“I kissed you back.” You correct, making him scoff.

"Debatable.”

“I’m surprise you even remember.”

“Are you kidding? I’ve been obsessing over that moment for two years.” You bite your lower lip to avoid smiling. You can’t believe he just said that, he shouldn’t. You’ve been there too. “It doesn’t help that you’re doe-eye lusting after me every damn day. I’m trying to get some work done here, y/n.” Sarcastic, he lets out a hollow chuckle when your mouth falls open in awe. 

“I do not.” You opt to lie and protest but then change strategy. If he’s going to be a tease, so can you. “What about all the inadvertent feet brushing under the desks?”

“Oh yeah, not accidental at all.” Chan snaps back, brazen, “I just love that you gasp every single time I touch you.”

That’s exactly what you do just then, gaze wide. “You’re crazy!” There’s no way he’s actually saying all that aloud. He’s lost it. You might be alone but you’re still in the office. 

“You kissed me,” he counterattacks. 

“I kissed you back. You can’t tell me these things. We aren’t supposed to be like that.” 

“I know you like it when I wear white shirts. I’m also aware you park your car next to mine on purpose to walk together. You stare a lot, but I do too. It makes me hot the way you toy with your hair when you’re on the phone. I’ve been bribing Yang for a year to send us on break at the same time, I take all his worst calls. Should I not say all of that either?“ 

“Chan,” you groan, ears burning up. 

“Relax, let loose. It’s cute. We’re cute.” His smile hasn’t faltered and it only widens at your bashfulness. “Oh come on, we both knew this would happen from the moment you kissed me.”

“You kissed me.” Incredulous, you can’t conceal your excitement anymore. You knew he felt it too, but you didn’t think he’d be one to suggest sneaking around. He usually likes to stick to the rules.

“If you say so,” Chan rolls his eyes, “I was going to do it again anyway.” Pausing, he studies your reaction. You’re still trapped against the counter, gazing up at him. “Tonight. I’m taking you out.” Your toes curl at the idea. 

“Maybe I have plans,” you oppose jokingly, knowing very well he isn’t going to fall for it. 

“Are you saying no?” He side glances at the empty office, amused. “I was going to kiss you at the stroke of midnight. I think that’s the right way to start the New Year.” You’re about to reply something witty when Chan reaches for his headset. “Yes, I’m still here.” Giggling, you drop your head, having forgotten all about the woman from accounting in his ears. “You need to enter the intranet password… Yours, yes. I certainly hope you don’t ever use my login, Janice.” There’s a faint laugh at the other end of the line. Winking, Chan reaches for the mug between you, discarding it on the counter. His thumb on your waist begins to rub tiny circles as his free hand climbs your neck, caressing your jawline and making you shiver. Flirtatious, he tilts your head so you are fully looking up at him. It’s not unfamiliar, remnant of that night under the mistletoe, still, butterflies soar in your stomach. “Fantastic. I’m glad I could help…” Feeling him up, your fingers slide up his shirt, tracing his collarbones through the fabric and his shoulders. You always dreamt of doing this and it’s way better than you imagined. “Yes, well… Happy New Year to you too, Janice.” Your touch gets more adventurous by the seconds. “Bye…” Chan licks his lips, irides now devoid of any playfulness. "Oh, bloody hell,” he grunts suggestively when your hands find their way to his ass. You hope the woman has hung up, “It’s midnight somewhere.” 

This time there is no doubt about who initiates it. Chan kisses you, arms wrapping around to hold you firmly into him. There’s no hint of hesitance when you respond, abandoning yourself against his chest completely. You both know what you are doing, know what you want. Your mouth toys with his, hands lost in his curls messing them up and making his headset fall to the carpet floor. You struggle to catch a breath, unable to tame the urgency of your embrace. He doesn’t seem to mind, tongue tracing your lower lip over and over again. His kisses are ardent and needy, never breaking completely. The counter is digging your ass but you don’t mind. This is both blissful and disquieting, you didn’t expect this to be so intense. All of a sudden, Chan pulls away, leaving you feverish and beggared at the dearth.

“Fuck me dead.” He groans, oblong eyes wide and breathing irregular. The swear is barely a sound at all, almost inaudible despite the quietness of the empty office. 

“E-Excuse me?”

“We’re going to have to be a lot more discreet from now on,” he states, categorical like he isn’t the one who crossed the line in the first place. “I can’t be just friends anymore.”

Heart thumping, you smile at him; “But you can’t keep a secret for shit, Chan.”

Laughing, he kisses you. “I guess I’ll have to quit.” Humming against his mouth, you don’t immediately notice the way his hands creep up, getting rid of your own headset to play with your hair. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year,” you sigh, rapturous. There couldn’t possibly be a better way to start anew than this. “Are you still taking me out tonight?”

“Absolutely.”

“Fantastic.”

Stray Kids | M.list

[bloody-fists-beating-hearts]

Fallout OC companion meme

General

Name: Coyote

Location: Freeside - Atomic Wrangler (busy getting kicked out for cleaning house)

How to obtain: Bring her all the ingredients needed for a bottle of wasteland tequila, which she will share with you

Companion Wheel

I think we should travel together:

“Right on. Let’s burn some shit.”

Use Melee:

(without psycho in inventory) “Ain’t really my specialty boss-man/boss-lady. You sure you can’t just get me some ammo?”

(with psycho in inventory) [Manic Laughter]

Use Ranged: “Now you’re talking! Let’s go for the knees.”

Open Inventory: 

“Don’t touch my chems, got it?”

“Oooh, shiny!”

“That psycho is...uhh...medicinal.”

“You’re gonna sell this, right?”

Stay Close:  

(if male) “Any closer and I’ll start charging, sweetheart.”

(if female) “Well, I don’t really swing that way...but 20 caps is 20 caps.”

Keep Distance: “You just want the good shit to yourself, don’t you? Fine.”

Stealth:  [Soft Laughter] “Lights out.”

Back Up: “No, you’re getting in my way.”

Be Passive: “Aw, you’re no fun.”

Be Aggressive: 

(without psycho) “Yes! Woo!”

(with psycho) [Snarling]

Use Stimpack: “Oh thank fuck, I needed that.”

Wait Here: “Okay but if I run out of smokes, I’m leaving.”

Follow Me: “Finally.”

Send to the Lucky 38: “Shit, they got a bar in that place? Nevermind, I’ll just put it on your tab.”

Send Home: “Aw, what, you found someone prettier? Fine, I’ll be up north.” (Found in North Vegas Square).

Injured:

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK.”

“Goddammit you motherfucker.”

“Give me a stimpack you son of a bitch!”

“[Cough] Shit...is that a rib?”

Death:

[Rasping breath] “Not...not yet...”

[Wet chuckling] “Guess my luck’s finally run out...”

[Panting] “Fuck...you...” 

Aggression: aggressive/not aggressive/ very aggressive/frenzied

Confidence: cowardly/cautious/average/brave/foolhardy

Assistance: helps nobody/helps allies/helps friends and allies

Karma: very good/good/neutral/evil/very evil

Perks

[Luck of the Draw] Player gets a 20% higher chance of criticals and more caps found in containers.

[Where Your Heart Is]  Coyote gets +5DT and healing chems are 15% more effective

[Feelings Are For Suckers] Coyote gets +5DT and psycho, slasher, and jet are 16% more effective

Drops

Drops a Lucky Star Cap necklace and a faded patch of blue material with a yellow 13 embroidered on it.

Quests and Recruitment

Coyote is found being kicked out of the Atomic Wrangler after attempting to circumvent a previous ban. She then engages in conversation with the player, requesting all the ingredients for her homemade Wasteland Tequila (Empty Whiskey Bottle, Nevada Agave Fruit, Purified Water and Jet). Once the items are delivered she invites the player to a nearby campfire, and gives them a bottle of tequila to share. After a brief conversation the player can offer to hire her for 250 caps.

Personal Quest: 

[The House That Built Me]

After visiting several different locations with Coyote and accumulating affinity points with her through dialogue (choosing self-serving choices or passing barter speech checks) Coyote will stop and ask to talk. If the player agrees she will tell the Courier that while she was travelling in the Mojave she heard rumours about  Richard Saint, a man that might be her father (who abandoned her mother before she was born) being somewhere in the area. After taking a short detective journey across the Mojave it is discovered that the man who is Coyote’s father is living richly on the Strip. Coyote reveals that after her father left, her mother had to turn to prostitution to make ends meet, got hooked on chems and eventually died, leaving Coyote alone.

When confronted it is revealed that Coyote’s mother had been a drug-addicted prostitute long before she solicited Richard in New Reno, and that contrary to her mother’s claims he never knew about Coyote being conceived. Richard is aloof and has no interest in Coyote, threatening to call security on her. Coyote is furious and wants to kill him. The player then convince Coyote that

- Richard is her deadbeat father and should die for abandoning them  [Feelings Are For Suckers]

- Her father could have been any number of clients and Richard’s life should be spared  [Where Your Heart Is]

Ending Slides

.

If their personal quest is never completed…

After the battle of Hoover Dam, Coyote soon parted ways with the Courier, drifting across the Mojave, looking for something she would never find...

[Feelings Are For Suckers]  ...eventually, residents of Vegas began speaking of an uprising in Vault 3, and soon the Fiends became more organised, aggressive, and deadlier than ever, attacking caravans and spreading further outward until North Vegas Square was finally overrun. This new tribe of Fiends began calling themselves the Coyotes.

[Where Your Heart Is] ...as time grew, she began attracting other drifters and travellers to her. Weary adventurers, chem addicts, ex-legion, Vipers and Jackals...soon, every bar in the Mojave began to spin tales of the nomadic gang of mercenaries that left a river of blood in every job they took - and they were available for hire, if you could afford the price.

If the Courier sides with Legion and…

After the Legion took the Dam, Coyote simply adjusted and began selling weaponry and protection to those looking to flee the legion, or to travel to it. She always made sure to be one step ahead of the slaver’s collar, though,

If the Courier sides with NCR and…

With the NCR winning the dam, the Mojave began to lose its free and savage appeal that it once had. Coyote took to stealing from caravans and military outposts under the cover of night, determined to profit from the NCR’s victory in her own way.

If the Courier sides with House and…

With House maintaining the status Quo of New Vegas, Coyote gained a brief stint of infamy within the strip after clearing out every Casino in a single afternoon. She spent most of it at Gun Runners, and the rest was put towards buying as many chems as she could.

If the Courier makes New Vegas independent and…

After the Second Battle of Hoover Dam resulted in an Independent New Vegas, Coyote felt something almost close to gratitude towards the courier, who understood better than most that some things must always remain wild and free.

--

god this was fun. drawing of coyote made by the always lovely @yesjejunus​ and the blank template by @socksual-innuendos​ . i love you guys and enjoy having the world’s worst and edgiest companion by your sides

[roseblack2222]

I work At The Only Pizza Place In Town (Part 2)

This is the second part of my first series on r/NoSleep. I hope you enjoy it. If you do you can find me on Twitter and Patreon

Hey, it's the Pizzaman again. Hope you all saw the last post, that Nick made. Since the incident in the forest, I have been released from the hospital. Thankfully, the creature didn't cause any permanent damage. It just took some bandages to heal the wound. And my leg was put in a cast. Although, getting used to these crutches has been a pain the ass. Nick's had to help me up several times when I've lost my balance and fallen on my face. Speaking of Nick, he's actually moved in with me. We got to talking some more since the last post and as it turns out he had actually been kicked out by his parents. The reasoning for it was because he got kicked out of his college. It was because some other students who he had problems with, claimed he was harassing them.

Those students had been going to that college for years. And were well-liked by everyone. So, everyone believed them over Nick. He got a call from his dad, who berated him over what happened. Apparently, his dad and mom believed the school and other students over their own son. Great parents, right? Nick was told by his dad not to bother coming home for a place to stay. Then shortly after, Nick found out his number had been blocked by them. He did see them again at the funeral. But, he didn't bother talking with them. And they didn't bother speaking with him. Since Nick had been banned from his home, he had been drifting from place to place. He would stay at the cheapest motels he could find, sometimes he would even sleep in his car. Truth be told, he was just about out of money when he returned to my town.

I normally wouldn't share information so personal. But I figured you'd all be wondering why Nick decided to move here of all places. I asked him if it was okay to tell you all this. And he said that it was. I managed to get him an interview at Formaggio's. According to Nick, it went something like this,

" Have you had any experience in this kind of restaurant?" Mr. Formaggio asked Nick.

" I've worked at Domino's for a couple of years."

" Good enough. You're hired."

So now, he and I are working together. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that. I have been back to work since the last post. Mostly, to show Nick the ropes. Because of my injury, there are a few conditions in regards to me going to work. For one, I can only head out to work, when it is day out. And I have to be off before dark. If I'm working alone. If I'm closing with someone, I can stay to help them close. And lastly, if there is any heavy fog or thunderstorms out, I get the day off. But, I want to talk about something that happened on Thursday. Because, what occurred, I have never seen, Nor heard about. Nick and I were at Formaggio's. It was later in the day. And most of the customers were heading home. The only customers we had left were Chuck and Sam, who were getting ready for their nightly patrol.

" Should I ask them to leave, since we're closing?" Nick asked me.

" Nah. They're cool."

" Hey, Pete. I don't think we've been introduced to your friend here. I think I overheard your name is..Nick, right?" Chuck asked him.

" Yeah. Nice to meet you, Chuck," Nick said, reading his badge. They shook hands. Then Nick did the same thing with Sam. They all chatted for a little bit before I told Nick we had to get busy closing. After telling us bye, Chuck and Sam left. Then Nick and I got to closing.

Fortunately, there are plenty of counters and such for me to use in order to get around. So, I didn't have too much trouble. Nick learned pretty quickly. I showed him how to shut off and clean the ovens and dishes. And where to store food in the walk-in fridge. He had taken out the trash and I was counting to see how many of which ingredients we had left. And which ones we needed to buy. I was halfway done, counting when Nick called me from the dine-in room.

" Hey, Pete. Can you tell me what the hell this is?"

" It's probably just some-" I was about to say. Until I saw what Nick was looking at.

Up in the sky far ahead of us, was swirling rainbow-colored mass. Which was hovering above the forest in the distance?

" Ever see anything like this before?"

" No. I've never heard about anything like this. I haven't even seen it in my book."

" Think it's dangerous?"

" Don't know. Wait, I think that thing is hovering over Carl's house! Take a picture or something of that thing. I'm going to call Carl's shop."

" What happens if something comes out of that thing and attacks us?"

" We make a break for it."

I called Carl, he picked up on the first couple of rings.

" Pete, what's up?"

" Carl, where are you at right now?"

" Just in the back of my store. About to close up. Why? Need something?"

" Look outside, towards your property."

He did as I asked.

" What in the fuck? How long has that thing been there?"

" Not sure. Nick and I just noticed it. We didn't see it before. So I'm guessing it just appeared tonight."

" Hm. Chuck and the others have probably noticed it already. But I think I'll call them anyway. Have you seen any creatures yet?"

" Actually, we haven't come to think of it. And they usually start coming out at this time. Do you think that thing in the sky has something to do with it?"

Before he could answer, the thing in the sky slammed into the ground. The impact could be heard all across town.

" The fuck?! You see what that thing just did?!"

" Yeah! I..oh shit."

Something came slithering towards the restaurant. Said thing was a giant worm creature. Its mouth was circular with sharp teeth. Its face had multiple eyes, matching the rainbow color of the thing that was in the sky.

" Please tell me the restaurant has the runes to keep that thing back."

" Pete? Everything alright?" Carl asked.

" We're going to need some help here," I said, seeing multiple returned and other creatures also come towards the restaurant.

" Don't worry. I'll be there as soon as poss-" Carl said, before a loud, I heard a loud crash from his end and the call went dead.

" Carl? Carl!" I yelled.

" Oh shit. Something happened to him didn't it?"

" Looks like it."

" Does that mean he's..?"

" I don't know. I hope not. Carl's tough. We have to believe he'll pull through."

" Where does that leave us then? That worm thing could come here at any moment!"

" Call the department. Once they hear about what happened, they'll come here."

Nick called and told them about the situation. They told him that they were on the way. But, it may be a while since there were a lot of creatures.

" They said it's going to take like ten minutes!"

" We'll just have to hope we can survive until then. Look under the counter. You'll find some weapons."

" Jesus Christ! Look at all these guns!"

" Yeah. Toss me a shotgun and a box of shells! Quickly! Now!" I said as the worm was now quickly slithering over to us.

I quickly loaded and cocked the gun as it started to rear its head back. As it started to strike, I through the door open and gave it a shot to the face. It was knocked back. And a returned tried taking the opportunity to rush me. I knocked it back with the butt of the gun. Then quickly closed the door.

" You almost let one of them in!"

" I didn't have a choice. If that thing breaks the glass, they'll all be able to get in!"

" I thought the runes are supposed to keep them back?!"

" They do. But, opening the door creates a sort of opening in the barrier! Obviously, we can't exactly draw runes in midair! Now do me a favor before that worm thing recovers. You ever shoot a gun?"

" A few times."

" Grab a gun and ammo. Then head up to the roof and start firing at these things. I'll meet you up there in just a second."

" We don't get paid enough for this," He said, climbing up the ladder to the roof hatch.

I had to shoot at the worm again and several returned before Nick started firing. When he did, I leaped over to the ladder. Then made my way up. I saw several winged creatures descending towards Nick. And shot them all back.

"Wow! I didn't even notice them! Thanks, Pete!"

" Don't mention it. Just keep shooting! I got the other side of the building covered!"

The worm and other creatures continued attacking for the next five minutes. We heard other gunshots coming from different parts of town. One of the flying creatures managed to get past me. Then sink its teeth into Nick's ribs.

" Ow! Mother fucker! You, piece of shit!" He said, pulling out a knife. Then stabbing out both of its eyes. He aimed his shotgun at it. Then blew its head off.

" Sorry, Nick! I was reloading! Oh, Shit!" I said. I looked up to see another winged creature descending towards me.

I was able to block its attack. But it started to lift me by the gun I held. I thought quickly, pulling out a knife and stabbing it in the neck. Seeing as how the creatures that attacked us were dead, save for the worm, we decided to train our guns on it. Unfortunately, we were met with the sound of clicks when we pulled the triggers.

" Is there any more ammo down below?" I asked.

" No. I grabbed all the ammo we had when I came up here. Should I grab the handguns?"

" They won't do any good against this thing!"

" Then what are we going to do?! It's getting ready to attack again!"

The worm got ready to attack again when it was knocked back once more. We looked over to see Carl with his gun pointed at the beast. He ran over to it and tossed something in its mouth. Then he ran away from it as fast as he can. What happened next, was the worm's head blowing up. Bits of blue blood rained down from the sky.

" Ew! Some of it got in my mouth!" Nick said, spitting.

" Nevermind that. We have bigger problems! Look!"

The explosion had attracted another horde of creatures, who swarmed towards Carl. He was able to hold them off for a little while. But eventually, it looked as if he would be overpowered. Thankfully, Chuck and Sam arrived just in time. Then took out the other creatures.

" Thank fucking Christ!" Nick said.

" You said it. Let's head back down."

Shortly later, the five of us were sitting at one of the tables. I asked Carl what happened. And he said that a creature that he hadn't seen before, smashed through his store window and grabbed him. But he was able to break free and kill it. Chuck apologized for taking so long. And said that they've been dealing with calls all night. Then told me and Nick to stay safe before he and Sam left.

When he did, I asked Carl," By the way, how did you make that thing's head explode?"

" Grenade."

" What?! How did you get a..?"

" Don't worry about it. It got the job done, right?"

" True." " Need a lift home?"

I looked at Nick.

" Uh, no thanks. My car luckily didn't get damaged."

" Alright then. Can't believe I have to get my store's windows replaced! And redraw them runes on it! What a pain in the ass! Anyway, take care, you two."

" Take care. And thanks, Carl," I said.

" Don't mention it! Oh, and Nick?" Carl asked as he was almost out the door.

" What is it?"

Carl pointed at me. Then said," Make sure you have his back."

Nick smiled and said," Heh. You got it."

We locked up and went home after Carl left. On the way, we saw twice as many police cars than usual out. And more creatures we haven't seen before. Nick and I are lucky to have survived our encounter. And he was fortunate enough to only need some rubbing alcohol and a few bandages on the spot where the creature bit him. I don't why that thing in the sky appeared, or how these new creatures are presumably connected to it. But we are going to get to the bottom of this. Knowing Carl, he'll probably try to investigate whatever it was that landed near his property. I'll call him tomorrow to see what he's found. Then Nick and I will go to his house later this week. I just hope he doesn't get himself killed. And I hope that I don't run into one of those tall cunts again.

See you all again, soon.

This is Pizza Pete, signing out.