#ok it's not the worst thing in my manner of chatting with people

[literature-is-your-new-god]

if i add 'i usually ask this' to any weird thing i say to you, please, don't believe me, i try not to make you comfourtable and impress at the same time

[krisinthefalklands]

It Begins...

"I've applied for a school in the Falklands", Sara tells me. ".... Huh!? Oh? Right... OK", this comes as a bit of a shock to me, we've previously spoken about the possibility of us returning back up north, where the quality of life is better than where we currently are, just outside of 2023's Worst Place To Live, Luton, and where the cost of living is significantly cheaper, but at the same time, I was also somewhat unsurprised, Sara has always had itchy feet (I'm talking about a desire to travel, not a long undiagnosed skin condition) and was ready for a new school to teach at.

We'd previously visited an island with a small population for her to attend an interview weekend, where partners were also invited, and please, do read the next bit in air-quotes, with as much sarcasm as you can muster, "but partners aren't being interviewed, just invited so they can get a feel for the island", sure Jan... and just days before the 2020 COVID-19 lockdown measures were introduced in the UK, we visited the tiny island of Sark in the Channel Islands.

Not only is Sark a tiny island, it also has a tiny population of about 500 people, where people are outnumbered by the sheep, and the coastline is frequented by funny looking black and white birds (just remember this information for later) as puffins can be spotted on the sheer coastal edges of the island in Spring.

During our time on Sark, when Sara wasn't preparing a lesson to give to her potential future class, we went up and down their bustling high street, avoiding the local traffic of tractors, horse and carts and bicycles...there are no cars allowed on Sark (despite how much my friend Victoria keeps suggesting that if you squint, you could mistake a sports car for a small tractor), not that you would need a car given the size of the island! We also had a lovely curry at the seigneur's home with the other candidates, headteacher of the school and his wife, and a few local residents, including the locum GP, who I may have landed in hot water when I was "absolutely not being interviewed" by the island's vicar and his wife.

The current seigneur of Sark is the delightful Christopher Beaumont, the 23rd person to take up the mantle, a former officer in the British Army, but despite his highfalutin sounding status is down to earth, and happy to chat away with visitors to his beautiful gardens, especially about his newly installed solar panels and electric tractor (the first of it's kind on Sark!)

Sadly, it wasn't to be for our dream of a few quiet years on Sark, and we returned to empty streets, loo roll shortages and queues outside supermarkets, as we took our singular government approved walk of the day. Life moved on, just day after day after sodding day. The more things changed, the more things stayed the same.

There were other attempts to move to Sark, the teacher who did get the job decided it wasn't for them and returned to mainland UK. I guess choosing small island life requires a certain kind of hardiness, pig headedness and a desire to be part of a small community who will know everything about you after a certain amount of time. We have those qualities (we hope), but again, the job was offered to another applicant.

So after a couple of attempts of moving to one small island, and it not being successful, I pessimistically assumed it would be the same here, Sara would go for the interview, impress the panel, but there would just be that one sodding person with a smidge more experience, who would get the job and leave us stuck on rainy Brexit island.

The big day came, Sara set off to London for the interview, you see, whilst for Sark they flew us to Guernsey and then put us on the cute little ferry to the small island, the Falklands is a 16 hour flight across the Atlantic, and a bit far to go for an interview, so the interview panel came to the UK, at Falkland House, the Falkland Islands London address, where you can visit to discuss all manner of things, so long as those questions are about the Falkland Islands. Of course, things didn't go smoothly, as her tube decided to stop in the middle of a tunnel between stations, unable to contact the office to say she was delayed as this was a line that did not yet have 4G signal installed throughout, but she did make her interview in the nick of time, and on exit was told she'd hear back within a week.

At this point my pessimism had kicked in. They had clearly given the job to someone else, and we were doomed for another year in the London commuter belt. Another year of eating fish fingers whilst watching Pointless. Another year of breathing in the polluted air from the main road we lived next to. Another year of...

"ring ring¹"... Sara's phone is ringing, it's a +500 number from The Falkland Islands... I listen in...

"Hi, is that Sara?", asks the caller, she confirms, and the voice on the other end replies, "Sorry about the delay in getting back to you, when we arrived we needed to have a week to rest from the exhaustion of flying and to have a think about the candidates we saw. We were really impressed with your"... I could sense the "but", again, I'm a pessimist by nature... "and we'd like to offer you the position of class teacher at the Infant and Junior School starting in September" - for once, my natural glass half empty, cheery outlook on life, was unfounded.

I went to Tesco to get cake to celebrate the news, although the choices were rubbish and I came back with mini Millionaires Shortbread bites rather than actual cake, but now we had to let it sink in that we were going to have a very big journey ahead of us.

What follows is that journey²...

¹it didn't actually go "ring ring", we're millennials and as such our phones are permanently on mute, and just went "vvvvvvb vvvvvvb" but that would have looked like a cat walked across my keyboard if I'd put that.

²It's worth noting up to now, this has mostly been about Sara's journey, but from hereon this will be a shared journey

[nixotinix]

Been a while since I've made a post about dnd! But here I am again, back on my bullshit. And today, I'd like to bring you..

The Unspoken Rules of Dungeons and Dragons

Rule number 1, and the most important. Always watch your fellow PCs' backs. I don't care how much your character doesn't like their character and I don't care how deep into a shit hole you are. Better to heal them somehow than leave it to chance with death saves. If there's anything you can do to prevent your teammate from dying, do! It!! My fighter took a fireball to the face to keep the sorcerer (who'd failed 2 death saves) and the bard (whom the fighter doesn't like) from taking more damage, and our ranger managed to get them back on their feet. Nobody wants to roll up a new character because you wanted to be cool in combat.

Rule 2, this one has been talked about to death and back. Don't. Split. The. Party. Especially not in a dungeon or combat. One, it's a surefire way to get everybody killed. God forbid you or anyone else in your group doesn't know healing spells because the cleric took a different path. Two, it can cause some players to feel left out. Someone I play with left a campaign because the DM ran 3 hours of dnd in which they were the only PC not included. Splitting the party never leads to good things happening. It's fine to split the player characters from NPCs, but don't separate the PCs.

Rule 3. Don't metagame. If you don't know what metagaming is, the best way I can describe it is using out of game knowledge to affect things that happen in game. For example, if you know you're fighting a certain enemy later, and you look up its stats and see it's resistant to fire damage. So your spellcaster doesn't cast fireball. Or, an easier example, looking up a creature's armor class so you automatically know what hits and what doesn't. This can spoil the fun for everyone at the table, including you. So don't do it.

Rule 4. This one's important. It's ok for your characters, or even players, to argue. If your cleric thinks what the rogue and bard are doing is a dumb fucking idea, it's ok for your cleric to voice that. My fighter and the bard at my table argue all the fucking time, to the point where an NPC and our sorcerer have compared them to a married couple. But it is important to separate the game from real life. Yes, the fighter and bard argue often. But we don't hate each other in real life. We've had our issues with each other, but I'm not gonna call him a stupid fucking bitch.

Rule 5. If you don't say it, it doesn't happen. If the DM isn't present, it doesn't happen. For an example, my DM pulled the sorcerer into a different voice chat and told me and the other 2 party members to talk about what the course of action was. And we did talk about it. In character. Big mistake. When DM got back 20 minutes later, he immediately retconned our conversation and told us to redo it with him there. In hindsight, it's funny as fuck. But in the moment, it was kinda dumb.

Rule 6, this one added in post. It's common to have quieter players at the table, whether they themselves are quiet or it's their character. Try your best to help them feel included. And if it's someone at the table who's making them go quiet, address it. For example, my group recently had to kick a player. I'd only played 2 sessions without this person, and the other 3 people in the group agreed that I did better without them. So we kicked them from our party and I'm doing better now. But while they were still there, our ranger often had to pitch into conversations like "*insert fighter name*, what do you think?" Or things of the like. I didn't talk because I never got the chance. If you see something like this going on, or notice that any other player is beginning to feel upset, bring it up to at least the Dungeon Master. D&D is about fun, and nobody should be spoiling the fun for someone else.

Now for some more rapid fire tips.

If a character's accent or manner of dialect changes, no it didn't.

Saying "what's the worst that can happen" is the most surefire way to assure that the worst will happen.

Have fun! Start bar fights. Trick the red dragon with a deck of illusions. Be an idiot. Dnd is about fun.

Don't betray the party.

Don't edit/write on someone else's character sheet.

Don't mock other players.

ALL players should have their chance to shine. This goes just as well for the players and the dungeon master.

If you do something shitty because "it's just what my character would do", don't be surprised when your character gets beaten to death and thrown down a well.

Don't start genuine PvP. Sparring and fighting is ok, but PCs trying to kill each other won't go over well.

Stay off your phone at the table.

If the DM says no, the answer is no.

A tip for the DMs: your goal is to make a fun world for the characters to interact with. Your goal is not to make a world that the characters just kinda. Inhabit.

Don't let the rogue get you into a situation the fighter can't get you out of.

Everything has consequences. Yes, even that.

If it can't be solved by violence, you aren't using enough violence.

If all else fails, scatter.

Don't use D&D as a revenge fantasy against a player.

And that's all! I hope this was insightful and at least entertaining to read. I've got plenty of D&D stories and advice to share, so expect me to talk more. Til next time!

[harrysweasleys]

caught in the act // f.w

summary:  how do you feel about writing a request for professor!fred and professor!reader bantering like cRaZy at hogwarts a few years after graduation and things just ~happen~ between them both? like maybe they try to one up each other all the time or they just dislike one another OR they're secretly dating but try to hide it from the students but the students know anyway? i don't even care what it is, i just desperately need professor fred k love u BYE

warnings: flirty and steamy, mentions of food 

word count: 3.7k

a/n: OK so this idea was stemmed from a very long chat between me, @ickle-ronniekins and @wand3ringr0s3 and it has finally been brought to life! this was so much fun to write and i really hope you all enjoy :) [i do not give consent for my work to be reposted on any platform.]

———————————————————————

The familiar echo of the Hogwarts bell never failed to make you jump out of your skin. Especially when you were currently eyeing a class full of students in eerie silence, broken only by the occasional drop of a quill. Their practice exam required lack of noise to the point where you swore you could hear the movements of your ribs as you inhaled and exhaled. 

The ringing sound echoed throughout the class for a short moment, the students in front of you all placing their quills down and forming a line towards your desk, their parchment in hand and some of their faces rather sullen. It was only a practice exam, but the real deal was coming up in a few weeks and revisions were taking up a majority of their free time. You couldn’t tell if their expressions were from the work they just did or from the lack of sleep.

You remembered your exam days at Hogwarts. Long, dreary nights in the common room by the fire until the sun came up, your eyes burning out of your scalp from reading scribbles and notes all night long. Those really were the days, weren’t they?

“I don’t think I did so well, Professor,” one of your students, a fourth year Hufflepuff, said with a defeated tone to his voice, “I couldn’t remember the proper spell.”

You had found it rather odd that for a Charms class, the students had to do a written practice exam. It wasn’t your decision — but you surely questioned it. 

“It’s alright, Edwards,” you grinned back, “It’s not the final thing. This will only prepare you for the one you take in two weeks. Remember, that one is a performance exam. If you’ve got your wand movements down, you’ll be all set.”

The boy nodded, no trace of a smile on his face as he turned away and trudged out of the class, his overly heavy backpack hanging off of his shoulder. 

A frown formed on your lips as the next student walked towards your desk, a confident smile on her face as she handed you her exam paper, “Have a good day, Professor!”

You were about to wish her a good day in return, but a figure by the door caught your attention instead. 

Fred Weasley — or, rather, known to his students as Professor Weasley — stood with his hands in his pockets, his button up shirt tucked tightly into his slacks. His hair was short, standing up and looking soft as ever. 

He shot you a quick wink, causing you to shake your head with a small laugh before you returned to collecting exams. You couldn’t give away that you were, indeed, dating a fellow professor. You were sure, due to the countless times you’ve popped in and out of each other’s classes, that some of them were suspicious. But you could hardly think about that too much without getting paranoid.

Your students filed out of the classroom one by one, each of them excited to finally be on lunch break. You could hear a few of them mutter a quick ‘good afternoon, Professor Weasley’ as they passed by him in the doorway, none of them striking any sort of conversation, much to your pleasure.

“And what can I help you with?” you grinned, standing up from your chair and placing a clip around the stack of papers, sitting them down in the corner of your desk so you could remember to take them with you and look at them in your office later in the evening. You much preferred to do your grading and marking at night — you felt much more ‘in the zone,’ so to speak.

He walked over to you, hands still in his pockets, “What? Can’t pay my girl a visit during breaks?”

You scoffed, taking out a large stack of paper from your desk drawer and preparing for the class of sixth years you had after your break. Fred was inching closer to you with each passing second, taking strides with his long legs as if time was running out and he was trying to get to you as soon as possible without running. You stifled a laugh at his movements.

“Considering no one knows I’m your girl, I’d say no,” you replied, giving him a small smirk, “We don’t want to get caught like last time do we?”

You mentally cringed, thinking back to when fellow professor Neville Longbottom caught you and Fred at the Hogwarts staff Christmas party, your bodies nearly flushed to each other and his head dipping down to whisper in your ear. That might not be a giveaway, but considering the nature of Fred’s words and the way your eyes grew wide as you gave him a slap across the chest, it was a bit of a statement. Neville had asked you that night if anything was going on between you two, to which you replied ‘it’s late, I need to leave.’ 

“Well, it would be a shame for the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher to be dating the Charms teacher,” he said, a fake grimace on his face, “You’re only the most brilliant person in this entire school. I would be so ashamed if people knew. The highest held Professor, me, dating you, the lowly Charms teacher — a tragedy, really.”

“Oh, excuse me,” you placed a hand over your chest, stepping closer to him and leaning against the edge of your desk, “A shame, you say? I’ll have you know people much prefer my class to yours, anyways. Actually, just this morning, a group of Hufflepuffs told me they liked me best.”

The corner of his lip curved up into a smirk, leaning closer and wrapping his arms around your waist, his hips leaning against yours. You felt his hands slide lower down your back, giving your bottom a quick squeeze. 

“Hands off, Freddie,” you poked him in the chest, “This relationship has now become a competition.”

He pursed his lips, “Well, can the academic competition start tomorrow after we perform the, to kindly put it, physical competition in my room tonight.”

You slid away from him, shaking your head, “You are unbelievable.” 

“Well, believe it, love,” even though you weren’t facing him, you could hear the smirk in his voice, “This is all yours.”

“Uh, Professor Y/L/N?”

You spun on the spot, colour draining completely from your face. You heard Fred let out an awkward cough, facing the doorway where someone now stood. One of the students from your previous class was standing awkwardly, books in her arms and a confused look on her face. 

“Oh, hello, Miss Myers,” you sighed, running a hand down your face, “Professor Weasley, do you mind giving us a moment?” Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, and the temperature in the room was now a million degrees warmer than it previously was.

Fred grumbled a quick ‘of course,’ and made his way out of the room, turning to give you a wide-eyed expression before closing the door behind him. You let out a deep sigh, falling back into your chair, tossing your hair over your shoulder and looking over at your student.

“Did I interrupt something?” she asked, clearly fighting a grin.

You waved your hand, “No! No,” you tried your best to act nonchalant, letting your student take a seat in front of you, “So, what can I help you with?”

She began expressing her worries for the upcoming exam, all the while you tried giving her the best tips and advice on how to study her charms carefully and safely. You couldn’t count the number of times students had tried their spells outside of the class and had something go horribly wrong. No one wanted to deal with that again.

Though, you kept wondering what she meant by ‘interrupting something.’

You knew that she didn’t mean it in an accusatory manner — you weren’t all cozied up to Fred when she walked in. She couldn’t have seen anything, could she? Even if she did, who would she tell? Headmistress McGonagall was well aware of your relationship with Fred. But she was the only one who knew. You didn’t want to even think about the rumours that would spread if word broke out about your — to put it scandalously — affair.

You honestly weren’t sure what was holding you back from just announcing it. If McGonagall approved, what’s the worst that could happen? 

“Thanks for the help, Professor,” Miss Myers’ voice cut your internal rambling short, causing you to shake your head.

“No problem, my door is always open,” you grinned, motioning your hand in the direction of the door. She gave you a bright grin and picked up her backpack, turning to give you a little wave before making her way out of the classroom, once again, the door shutting closed behind her.

A loud groan left your lips before you dropped your head, letting your forehead smack loudly against the hardwood surface.

———————————————————————

The next two weeks felt like a whirlwind. Not only was the end of term approaching as rapidly as ever, but because your fifth years were rushing towards you every hour of the day to prepare for their OWLs, you were feeling rather happy that you only had a few days left before you were out of here. A lot of them seemed to get the hang of their Charms abilities, but many of them still seemed to be a little off. You couldn’t blame them — fifth year was rough — but you really wanted them all to be successful and to pass. Many of your students wanted to go on and be Aurors. A passing Charms mark was kind of a necessity.

“So you’re alright with overlooking the exam?” the Headmistress asked, her pointy hat standing tall on her head as her emerald robes flowed loosely behind her, the two of you walking towards the Great Hall, “You won’t be alone, but I just wanted to double check.”

You grinned, “Of course, it would be my pleasure.”

The walk to the Hall wasn’t long, but you were feeling suddenly anxious. You had poured your heart and soul into the teaching that you had done this year — you only hoped it paid off enough. You didn’t want to disappoint or let your students down. This was the most important exam yet. 

The Charms exam was tomorrow at noon, so you weren’t sure why your wand was in a knot just yet, but the anxious bubbles in your stomach hadn’t calmed down over the last few days, to be totally honest.

You walked into the silent Hall, no students present yet, and came to a halt as you spotted the redheaded man standing all the way on the other side.

“Oh, so you’re my ever so lovely companion this afternoon?” he grinned, standing up off of his chair and placing the stack of papers down on the table in front of him, his sweater clinging rightfully to his body and causing you to scan your eyes up and down his figure. He had a pen sticking out from behind his ear and you could see the pleased expression cross his face, even from the other side of the room.

“I suspect you two will behave,” McGonagall said from next to you, her eyes twinkling with some sort of amusement as she gazed between the two of you, eyebrows raised.

“When do I not behave, Minerva?” Fred asked cockily, shoving his hands into his pockets — which suddenly seemed to be a signature move for him. You weren’t really sure where it came from, but you weren’t complaining. It gave him some sort of authoritarian vibe, which was one of the many reasons you felt as if today might be a tough day.

Leaving you and Fred alone, McGonagall left the hall with a quick shake of her head, her little heels clacking loudly. You rolled your eyes, walking over to stand next to him. Even as you walked up the few stairs to the platform, Fred’s height towered over you and caused you to crane your neck up to look him in the eyes.

“Well, well, well,” he grinned, his hands finding their way to your lower back, sliding down so that they rested in the bum pockets of your jeans.

“Fred!” you squeaked, giving him a light slap across the bicep before pulling away, “We’ve almost been caught twice. Third time is definitely not the charm, here.”

He let out a low chuckle, his chest vibrating and his eyes crinkling in the corners. You loved the sight of him in a good mood, your heart doing a little flip in your chest as he ran a hand through his hair. 

You couldn’t help yourself, leaning up onto your tip toes and pressing a light kiss to his lips, pulling away ever-so-quickly, reaching up and pulling the pen out from behind his ear in the process, putting it down on the little desk next to the chair he was previously seated in.

“Ha! Gotcha,” you grinned, using your index finger to tap his nose lightly. 

“Oh, okay,” he nodded, hands immediately finding their way around your waist, “That’s not fair, love.”

His lips quickly found their way down to yours, warm and inviting as always. No matter how many times you kissed him, you never got tired of it. You still got the same amount of tingles and butterflies as you did the first time he kissed you. And that’s not something you ever imagined would change. 

“Fred,” you mumbled against his lips, a low groan leaving his throat as you tried your best to wiggle out of his grasp. You could hear the voices of students down the corridor— they were bound to enter the Great Hall any second now. This was not the position you wanted them to see you two in. 

“Fine, fine,” he mumbled, pulling away and rolling his eyes. His lips were red and his cheeks were slightly flushed, but he looked as dashing as ever. It was hard for him not to look like this, actually. Something in Fred Weasley’s blood just made him irresistible. You often felt like cursing him out, honestly. 

Seconds later, the large door opened and the room was no longer silent. Fred shot you a quick wink, sending your heart into a fluttering frenzy, before you turned to face the oncoming group. 

“Good morning!” you announced with a somehow steady voice, “Everyone find your seat so we can begin!” 

It took a few minutes, but eventually the group each found their assigned desks and sat down, taking out their quills and parchment. 

“You have two hours,” Fred clapped his hands together, echoing loudly throughout the room, “And the two of us will be here if you have any questions. The lovely Professor Y/L/N has volunteered to keep me company, probably because she finds me irresistible—” you rolled your eyes, “—but we’ll both answer any questions you have.” 

You looked to the ground, hair falling into your face as you bit your tongue, holding back any snarky remarks towards your idiotic boyfriend. He really wasn’t helping the whole ‘lowkey’ aspect to your relationship.

“Does anyone have any questions before we start?” he asked, lifting his left arm to check the watch on his wrist. You finally peered back up, gazing over at the large clock that was sitting behind you. You immediately regretted not bringing a cup of tea or a snack, but the two hours were bound to fly by. This wasn’t your first time overlooking an exam period, and each time you’ve done this before, it’s never felt like it was dragging on.

“Good luck everyone!” you called out with a smile, clapping your hands together. They all began scribbling away as you finished your sentence, the scratching sound being the only noise you could hear as any previous chatter had now completely ceased. 

You walked slowly over to Fred, your hands crossed over your chest as you raised an eyebrow, “Really smooth, you know? Nearly gave us away, you did.”

He shrugged, giving you a lopsided grin, “Oh, come on. Pretty sure half this lot know we’re together anyways. They may be younger, but they’re not completely dim-witted.”

Scoffing and turning your back to the group to face him better, you tried your best to give Fred a serious glare, “None of them are dim-witted, Fred. I’m just saying it would be nice to avoid the drama that comes with public teacher relationships.”

You took a step back as he took one towards you, trying your best to maintain some sort of professional distance. The students might be busy with their work, but that didn’t mean they were blind to the two Professors standing watch at the front of the room. 

“I gotta admit, love,” he nodded his head, lowering his voice and leaning in, “the sneaking around has been rather fun.”

His voice sent shivers down your body, goosebumps rising on your skin. You forgot how to breathe for a second, quickly trying your best to regain your composure so the students didn’t see you looking like a fish out of water. 

You let out a low cough, clearing your throat and nodding, “It has, hasn’t it?”

The grin on his face was practically contagious, causing the corners of your own lips to turn up before lifting a hand to toss your hair out of your face. You gazed up at him, running your tongue over your bottom lip before pulling it between your teeth, shooting him a wink in the process.

You could see the way his eyes were drawn to your every move, looking at your lips as if in some sort of trance. It caused a little sense of pride to blossom in your chest, to be honest. Fred was often the one who had you locked in a permanent dreamy state. It wasn’t everyday that you had the upper hand.

“Not bloody fair,” he tossed his head back, “Y’know how badly that makes me want to kiss you.”

You smirked, giving him a quick shrug of your shoulders and turning away, swaying your hips as you walked over to the chair that was a few feet away, sitting down comfortably and giving him another wink. You could tell his gaze was on your hips as you walked away — the darker tone in his eyes now locked on you.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

———————————————————————

“You’re a real piece of work, y’know?” he groaned in your ear, leaning over you as you organized the pile of recently collected exams, making sure that Fred’s proximity wasn’t a distraction. You weren’t being overly successful at that last part, though. You could smell his cologne and the warmth of his skin as he stood mere inches away, knowing damn well that he was causing you to stutter in your work.

You had been teasing Fred the entire exam period, sending him winks and lingering looks, even being bold enough to run your hand through his hair at one point, making sure to rake your nails lightly down the nape of his neck, enough to cause his body to erupt in goosebumps. He gave you a stern look after that, letting you know that he was now completely and utterly under your charm. 

“Am I? Well, this is a competition, if you remember correctly. I think I won.” you spun around, leaning against the desk, a teasing look on your face. 

“Oh, you definitely won,” his hands slid around your waist, delicately but firmly. He had a way with body language that was unmatched, you had to admit. 

Taking a step closer to you and pulling your body closer to his, he dipped his head and began to pepper your jaw with light kisses.

“Fred,” you giggled, weakly attempting to push him away, “Not right now.”

He groaned against your neck, his lips continuing to press kisses along your skin. It was rendering your mind nearly completely blank, but you tried your best to stay focused, to make sure that you guys wouldn’t get caught and ruin the secrecy aspect to your hidden romance. Plus, you really didn’t want McGonagall to catch you in such a scandalous position. 

“Honestly, do you have no self control?” you asked, successfully pushing him away. You missed the warmth of his body pressed against yours, but you had a feeling you’d be getting a lot of that tonight so you weren’t too upset about it. He’d more than make up for it in a few hours.

“Not around you, love,” he grinned, running a hand through his hair. You wished you were the one doing it instead, but once again, you had a feeling you’d be doing that quite a bit tonight, so you figured you’d wait until you could do it with no worries of anyone cutting in. He loved the feeling of your hands running through his hair, delicately giving little tugs every now and then. 

You let out a laugh, shaking your head as you picked up the pile of finished exams, “You’re too much.” 

Fred followed closely after you as you made your way towards the exit of the Hall, his hands empty but he kept them to himself this time, “But you love me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”

———————————————————————

After having been empty this afternoon, the Great Hall was now bustling with life. The four house tables were filled with students and food, echoes of distant and nearby conversations reverberating around the crowded room. It wasn’t a sight one could get used to. Yes, you had spent seven years of your youth here, and a few years as a Professor now, but the atmosphere of this room would never quite sink in.

Professor Neville Longbottom, who was currently seated next to you, was rambling on about a mishap that happened in his class that day — something about a first year Gryffindor knocking over eight potted plants — and you nodded along and laughed as he made jokes. 

“Can you believe it?” he asked, eyes wide as he munched on a potato, “He thought Mandrakes and Mimbulus Mimbletonia were the same thing!”

You let out an amused snort, “Kind of hard to think that,” you took a sip of your goblet of wine, “But I guess some people don’t have the magical knack for plants that you do.” You nudged him in the side with a smile.

He grinned at the compliment, the tips of his ears turning a deep shade of red. Neville was two years below you while in school, but his knowledge of plants and nature was way beyond you.

The conversation fell to a lull and Neville became invested in chatting with the person to his other side. You didn’t pay much attention to who it was, as your eyes were now trained to the other end of the table, where the usual seat of Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor was occupied by your boyfriend. 

His eyes were already looking in your direction, causing a heat to surge through your body. A lazy smile was on his lips, and he clearly wasn’t paying attention to the elderly Professor Slughorn seated to his right. 

“I love you,” you could read his lips, his eyes bright as they stayed locked on yours. His smile was genuine and loving, quite opposite to the teasing one he usually gave you, and it left your stomach feeling rather fluttery.

You bit your lower lip, fighting a grin, before moving your lips in return, “I love you more.”

———————————————————————

taglist 

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[thefanficmonster]

Oblivious

Valkyrae (Rae) x Reader (Gender Neutral) ft. Corpse Husband

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: In the most desperate of times, we may or may not be used to hearing the phrase ‘Beggers can’t be choosers’ which is exactly why Y/N’s found themself asking the most hopeless of cases when it comes to love and romance - Corpse, for help.

Requested by Xara. Hi darling! Thank you so much for this wonderful request you’ve sent me - I love writing for Rae (excuse my bi excitement, I’m just a HUGE simp) and I can’t thank you enough for giving me the opportunity to do so. Sorry it’s been two months since you requested this but here it finally is and I hope it makes up for the wait. Love, Vy ❤

“Corpse, I’m in desperate need for help.“ I don’t even bother with a friendly or even polite greeting. Being best friends for as long as we have, Corpse and I excluded the politeness that comes with phone calls a long time ago, especially when calling with an emergency. Though, let’s be honest, if I’m calling him on the phone and not on video chat like I usually do, it is an emergency.

“Given that you’re asking me, I can imagine how desperate you are.“ He has the audacity to laugh in response, causing me to roll my eyes. 

Now, don’t get the wrong idea - I love Corpse with all my heart. Him and I have been through A LOT together considering we know each other since we were teenagers. However, there are some instances in life when he simply doesn’t get me. Not that he doesn’t try to, he does and does so very hard, but he rarely succeeds. Trying is what matters, of course. Given that he is my only close friend, I can only ever turn to him with my problems though I try my best not to bother him too much, but when things get REALLY tough, I can’t help but go and vent to him. Luckily, he’s always been very understanding, but it may be because he feels like he owes me for all the times he has turned to me with his problems. I’ve tried to explain that he shouldn’t feel such a way, but that’s rather hypocritical of me cause I feel the same way.

Alright, enough digressing, back on track!

“Desperate doesn’t even begin to summarize how I feel.“ I sigh, plopping down on the couch in my living room, kicking my feet up on the coffee table as I cover my eyes with my hand. “Brutally miserable is, I think, the correct term to use here.“

I hear Corpse let out a quiet ‘oof’, one I think he hoped I wouldn’t hear. “And what led you to finally give in and ask for help, not that I can offer you much?”

I can’t help but snort at that, a snort that serves as a replacement to slapping myself across the face. “Rae texted me yesterday asking if I’d like to play Minecraft with her and I took THREE HOURS to respond! Not on purpose, I just couldn’t think of something good to say!” I know I sound like a whiney kid, but I think I’ve passed that threshold LONG ago. Of course, this whiney kid version of me only surfaces around Corpse and Corpse only. No one else is allowed to see me like this or that would legit be the end of any sort of pride I may have left in me.

“You mean you couldn’t choose between ‘Sure, I’d like that!’ and ‘Of course, I’d love to!’? Please say yes.“ Corpse already sounds disappointed and he hasn’t even heard the worst of it yet.

“No and sit tight, it gets worse. I...“

He cuts me off, “Wait, no, don’t say it. Let me guess - you turned her down? Keep in mind if you say yes I’m hanging up on you.”

I remain silent, pinching the bridge of me nose and cringing as hard as my facial muscles are willing to allow. I can’t say yes, not cause he’ll hang up but because admitting it makes it more real, and the more real it is the more depressed it’ll make me and I will go back to being a self-deprecating mess that refuses to be productive or properly functioning - aka ‘Whiney Kid Maximum’.

“I’m hanging up.“ Corpse says after waiting five seconds for my response that only comes in the form of dead silence which is more than enough of an answer in and of itself.

“No, please don’t!“ I squeak out despite my agony, “I’ll never break the cycle if you don’t help me, Corpse! I’m a hopeless case!“

“You’re a hopeless case with or without me, Y/N.“ He states, angering me ever so slightly. “Not only cause you really are, but because I have nothing useful to offer you. Not even a single advice. Even if I did, giving it to you would by hypocritical when considered how bad I am on this field myself. Hell, the very person you’re head over heels for is my personal matchmaker. If anything, you should be asking her how to swoon her...“ He pauses.

So does my brain.

For a second we’re both quiet, the silence on the line suggesting big plans are being developed - well, not on my end but still.

“Now there’s an idea...“ He mutters more to himself than to me.

“No!“ I shriek fearfully, “Please, if you love me even the tiniest bit, Corpse, don’t put me in a situation where I have to be alone with Rae! Not IRL not in a Discord call - not in ANYTHING. I close up and end up seeming unfriendly and rude because of my inability to talk to her like a normal human being! I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I just can’t do it! So please don’t make me.“

I maybe can’t read minds, but hell if I can’t at least have a rough guess of what’s on my best friend’s mind - I know he’s already scheming and coming up with odd solutions to my problem - some of which will cause me more problems but let’s not even mention those. That being said, I need to prevent him from actually carrying out any of his absurd schemes, otherwise it’s game over for me.

“Hmm, ok fine, but only cause I wanna spare you your own awkwardness. Consider it charity.“ He sighs, the disappointment even more evident now.

I sigh too, but I do so in defeated relief. It’s bittersweet, to be honest. “Thank you.”

“Don’t.“ He says sharply, “Don’t thank me. It’ll make me feel like I’m encouraging your behavior.“

Well, screw my feelings, I guess. I’m left on this battlefield alone, aren’t I?

Corpse hanging up the call confirms that I am, indeed, alone.

                                                             *  *  *

“Hello?“

“Are you still in bed, for the love of God? It’s noon!“ Not only did he have the audacity to wake me up with his phone call, but now he has the audacity to judge me on my sleeping habits as well. Some darn nerve he has.

“What do you want, Corpse?“ I grumble out, groggy and now grumpy too. The last thing I need is the only person I can turn to turning on me. Especially not now. I don’t need his or anybody else’s judgement of me or my life, it’ll hurt too much.

“I want to know how long you haven’t showered, Y/N.“ He barks back, causing me to roll my eyes. “And when’s the last time you actually ate something healthy and nutritious and not just greasy takeout?”

“I showered last night!“ I straighten up and frown, feeling offended despite his questions being justifiable. I think that’s exactly why I’m pissed off, to be honest - he knows me and my habits too well. “And you’re just being hypocritical on the eating part!“

“Whatever.“ He mutters, allowing me to feel at least a tiny sense of victory for having proven him wrong, “Get your ass up and come play Minecraft with me, you need to be cheered up asap.“ He continues, much to my dismay. “And don’t even think about saying ‘no’. If you do, just remember, I have your address and a strong will to kick your ass into shape.“

“Into shape? We’re going to the gym or something?�� I’m honestly confused and intrigued now. Maybe the gym isn’t such a bad idea, I’m sure I could become really good friends with the punching bag.

Corpse sighs exasperatedly in a way I can basically hear him roll his eyes as well, “Not that kind of shape, Y/N. Just get on Discord, seriously, I’m worried about you.“ 

That sentence strikes a nerve. Something about that genuine concern in his voice reminds me that I still need to move on from focusing so strongly on just my failures, no matter how big or small, and keep pushing forward, if not for myself then for the people who care about me. For Corpse especially, seeing as how he’s sort of been my babysitter ever since my feelings towards Rae started to consume me whole and suffocate me. I don’t know how or when it happened, in fact I can best describe it as the Titanic: I was doing ok and then instead of hitting an iceberg the iceberg of feelings hit me and I started sinking. Corpse was there to offer me a hand to help me keep at least my head above the surface. He can’t pull me out of the water but he’s not willing to let go either. I’m afraid holding on like that will tire him out to the point of letting go of me completely, but I’m afraid of sinking too. You see my dilemma here, no?

“Ok, give me twenty minutes.“

I would have probably continued sleeping or just chilled on social media, refusing to get out of bed for at least another hour, but the debt I feel towards Corpse is stronger than the desire to be a slob so I motivate myself with every power my fragile mind can fish out of the void and push the covers off me, shivering at the drastic change in temperature around my body now that I’m exposed to the rather cool air in my room, my pajamas hopeless at providing me with any warmth.

Twenty minutes later sharp, I’m seated at my desk, in front of my computer with my headphones on, taking one last encouraging breath before entering the call where Corpse is waiting for me.

“Yo.“ I greet him half-heartedly, drawing invisible abstract patterns on my desk with my finger as if I’m avoiding eye contact with him IRL.

“Glad to see you haven’t lost your sense of punctuality at least.“ He chuckles, sounding a lot more pleasant and a lot more like my friend Corpse and less like sergeant Corpse Husband who was speaking with me on the phone earlier.

“Very funny.“ I murmur in my now common brooding manner, “Anyway, enough about me, how are you doing? Anything interesting happen since we last spoke?“

“You mean in the past ten hours? No, nothing interesting apart from that I managed to catch a few z’s.“ He replies as I join the Minecraft server, managing to get a smile out of me.

“Hey, that’s nice to hear! Good for you, Corpsie.“ I say, honestly proud and happy for him.

“Yeah, and just so you’re not calling me hypocritical on the topic of eating, I’m currently cooking myself lunch.“ He points out, now just straight up peacocking, “On that note, I got a pot on the stove so you’ll have to excuse me for a sec.“

“Please go. Don’t set your apartment on fire the first time you cook” I snicker, leaning back in my chair and fetch my phone to kill the time while he’s gone to tend to whatever attempt at a meal he has prepping in his kitchen. I feel bad for his stomach, and his kitchen, already.

“Corpse? Hi!“

Oh no. No, no, no, no, no - tell me that was an auditory hallucination and I didn’t actually hear that just now! TELL ME!

“Rae?“ I blurt out, almost falling backwards out of my chair, eyes wide, jaw hanging slightly.

Just then I get a text from Corpse:

Consider me dead and carry the convo. I know you’ve got this, Y/N

Oh that prick is gonna get it!

“Y/N? Hi! Sorry, Corpse didn’t mention you’d be playing with us, but it’s so nice to be hearing from you! It feels like it’s been forever.“ Rae replies, cheery and enthusiastic as ever, just like the absolute sweetheart she is.

With Corpse absent from his position, without his metaphorical hand holding mine, I’m metaphorically sinking and drowning. Maybe the drowning part isn’t so metaphorical after all, considering I actually am drowning in all the thoughts produced by my mind at the moment. A mind that’s going completely haywire, might I add.

“Hehe, well, funny thing, he didn’t tell me you’d be playing with us either.“ I chuckle anxiously, already breaking out in a nervous sweat. I solemnly promise to kill Corpse first chance I get, that way he’ll at least be dead for real.

“He set us up, huh? What’s his game, where even is he?“ Rae asks, properly confused as she should be.

All on-point questions, hun. And I can’t answer any of them logically.

“Um, you know, he’s off doing...something.“ And there go my conversational skills out the window, I hope they send me a postcard one day.

“Whatever, enough about Mr. Ominous. Tell me, what’s been keeping you busy?“ Oh crap, this is the question I’ve been fearing. Mostly cause I’m not prepared for it. “Actually no, let me rephrase: Why have you been avoiding me recently?“

‘Oh crap’ squared. Tripled.

“Whaaat? Avoiding you? Where’d you get that idea?“ I’m aware of my high pitched voice, but it’s not like I can do much to tone it down. Every part of me is in critical panic mode and rationality has accompanied my aforementioned conversational skills out the window.

“I don’t know, Y/N. Ignoring my texts, leaving me on ‘Seen’ and then declining my offer just to accept the same one coming from Corpse - can’t really blame me for finding it shady.“ She replies, her words making me wince and hide my face in the palms of my hands as though it’ll shield me from Rae’s brutal honesty and forthrightness. 

“I’ve been...bad at replying to everyone lately, nothing personal, I swear.“ Yeah, that sounded convincing, good gosh-darn job, Y/N!

“Why’s that?“ Something about her tone suggest she knows I’m lying and is just humoring me and my agony. I don’t know if to thank her for it or wish she’d just rip off the band-aid and confront me head-on. In that case I’d have only one of two options: freeze up or spill my guts. Honestly, I don’t know which is worse. “I thought you’d reach out to me, given you’ve found yourself in a pickle.”

I frown, confused and wary like I’m walking on thin ice over a pool of sharks, “Pickle? What pickle?“

“Corpse mentioned you needed dating advice.“ She replies simply as though it should’ve been obvious and as if it’s the most casual, regular and normal thing. Little does she know...

“Um, yeah, I guess you can call it that.“ I murmur sheepishly, my cheeks reddening.

“Who’s the lucky girl?“ She asks, the excitement now replacing the previous suspicion she was fronting, making me nervous as hell.

My heart skips a beat, “How’d you know I’m crushing on a girl?“

“Uh...“ She stumbles over her words, pausing to collect her thoughts and formulate a response, “Corpse told me!“ When the reply finally arrives it’s as high pitched as mine was earlier, suggesting something ain’t right.

I stay quiet, my mind and heart racing which is quicker. My leg is bouncing, my fingers are tapping the keyboard rhythmically as I rack my brain, pushing it to put the pieces of this enigmatic puzzle together, connect the dots.

When it finally does, I’m left with a horrific end-result, a realization that makes me go pale as a ghost, “He told you who said girl is too, didn’t he?” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. I keep the tone low so she doesn’t notice how shaky it is.

It takes her a few seconds to reply, but when she does I kinda wish she hadn’t, “Maybe...”

My first instinct is to excuse myself from the call, pack all my kitchen knives and drive to Corpse’s house but with my limbs having lost any and all feeling in them that is practically impossible. So, I settle for my second instinct which is hiding my face in the palms of my hands as though they can shield me from the immense embarrassment Corpse has set me up for.

“Listen...“ I start, not sure where I wanna go with this, “You don’t have to say anything, I get the hint. No need to bother with a gentle reje-“

“I like you too, Y/N!“ Rae cuts off my rambling with a melodic laugh, “I’m sorry, but you can be very oblivious sometimes, and I just wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine for a bit. Sorry if I freaked you out.“ Judging by her tone, she’s not sorry at all. In fact, she’s one step away from bursting out into laughter.

“Trust me, ‘freaked out’ doesn’t even begin to describe it.“ I sigh, exasperatedly, sinking into my chair alike a deflated balloon. “You and Corpse are gonna pay for that heart attack you led me to the brink of!”

This time, she doesn’t hold back, letting out the laughter she’s been holding back this whole time, “I don’t know how Corpse will do that, but could I pay my dues with a brunch on Friday?”

My eyebrows shoot up, “Miss Valkyrae, is this you asking me out on a date?“ I ask teasingly - aka with more confidence than I feel.

Please say ‘yes’. Please say ‘yes’. Please say ‘yes’.

“I don’t know, what do you think, Y/N?“ She asks, tone just as teasing as mine.

“Hey, I’m not as oblivious as you claim I am!“ I argue light-heartedly, “Does 2PM work for you?“

“Any time works for me.“ Rae replies, a smile blatantly evident in her voice. A smile that unleashes a flock of butterflies in my stomach.

And just like that, I have a date with the girl I’ve had a crush on for the longest time. It happened so fast it’s practically a blurred part in my mind, but one thing I’m sure will be crystal-clearly imbedded in my mind forever is that brunch on Friday. Just then, I get yet another text from Mr. Schemer himself.

That wasn’t so hard now, was it?

Some nerve he has, I swear to God.

[catchmewiddershins]

Hi🥺

if it's too much trouble, could I request a pt. 3 of the ‘overhearing their crush talking about them’ with oikawa, akaashi and yamaguchi?

Thanks in advance and have a nice day!💕

Haikyuu Characters Overhearing their crush talking about them - pt 3:

Includes: Oikawa, Akaashi and Yamaguchi! 💖 SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG 🥺 I’m so glad you asked bcs I needed a reason to write a third part hehe

Oikawa:

He could barely keep his eyes open. Contrary to popular belief, Oikawa wasn’t a monster, he couldn’t keep pushing and pushing and never feel the consequences. Interhigh was approaching again and he was desperate to win, desperate to see the national court just one time before he left high school, desperate to prove that all of the blood, sweat and tears that he had poured into this sport wasn’t futile. So he’d stayed awake, he trained until late at night and woke before the crack of dawn to practice. And now he was feeling the toll, incapable of focusing on the words of the teacher at the front of the class, he let his mind drift, getting shocked out of his skin when the bell rang for lunch.

Floating down the corridors, he almost fell asleep standing up until he walked into a door frame. Then, as he rounded the corner he heard your voice. Oikawa had been harbouring feelings for you for a while now, ever since you’d been kind to him outside of the usual fangirl devotion - you’d helped him hide from a few of them while he was late for practice, and he’d been trying to work up the courage to confess to you. He was just... worried that you’d assume he was asking in a playboy manner, rather than from sincere feelings. Suddenly, he paused, having heard his name in passing from your conversation.

“Why do you want to go to a volleyball match? Like at interhigh?”

“Because Oikawa’s playing and I wanted to cheer him on!” There you were, you sounded so cheerful, it made his heart flutter and heat sprang to his face.

“Isn’t he that guy who’s really pretty? I hear that tons of people are swooning over him, you’ll have a lot of competition if you wanna blend in.”

“I mean yeah... he’s pretty but that’s not why I like him!”

“What, you’re different from the rest? Why do you like him then, if not his looks? They seem to be the only thing of his that are of note.”

His heart sank a little, there it was again, that focus. His hair, his eyes, his face, people complimented him on them left and right and it made him wonder if that was all he was worth - is that all he is? Just a pretty-boy athlete?

You sounded... indignant?

“I like him because of his skills, for one! Have you seen his serve? That thing looks as if it could turn my face into a pancake! And besides that, he’s such a great leader! His team clearly flourishes with him as captain, I saw one match where he couldn’t make it and they were only working at 3/4 max of the potential that Oikawa is able to draw out of them - it’s incredible! I worked on a project with him once and he was both in charge and so considerate! He’s more than his face, you know.” Your hands moved passionately and he could imagine the sparkles in your eyes as you talked, the way you occasionally did about your favourite media or facts.

He was in deep, and your rant at your friend gave him the nudge he needed to confess immediately... or maybe at interhigh.

Akaashi:

He nodded as you spoke, having been asked to help tutor you for the upcoming exam, as you had a few things that you were stuck on. He’d accepted immediately, since he was absolutely smitten with you. Nobody had been told about this, not even Bokuto, because he would tease Akaashi to kingdom come if he found out - or he’d try to set you up, which would be even worse. Gently correcting a mistake you’d made in your work, he took the time to appreciate being so close to you. Akaashi loved to spend time with you, since you’d become tentative friends due to sitting adjacent to each other in Biology, and since you occasionally came to his matches, but only when you had the time.

There was a slight noise as his phone buzzed in his pocket, and, taking it out, he saw a text from Bokuto, saying that he’d forgotten where the bibs for practice were stored and that he was outside the classroom so that Akaashi could point him in the right direction. Stepping outside with a sigh, he showed Bokuto which way the storage cupboard was, and gave him very clear directions on how to get back to the gym from there, along with another, not really that sincere, apology for having to miss practice to tutor you. However, just before he opened the door again to the spare classroom that you were working in, his ears picked up the sound of your voice, on the phone to one of your friends.

“Yes I am getting tutored by Akaashi!” His curiosity was piqued, was your friend interested in him or something? He couldn’t hear the sound from your phone speaker, but your response sent sparks through him.

“No, of course I haven’t confessed to him - It’s not like he likes me back! Besides, we are actually supposed to be working!”

“...”

“Yes, I’m sure I like him! He’s so considerate, and he explains things really well, and he always knows how to help, and he’s gorgeous.”

Oh. Oh Oh Oh! You liked him! He couldn’t stop the beaming smile that shone across his face as your conversation with your friend trailed off, leaning against the wall outside and trying to quell the ache in his cheeks that came with such a wide, lovestruck grin. His ears were pink and his eyes sparkled, and if anyone had walked past him at that moment, they’d say that he’d never looked more alive.

He walked into the classroom, glowing, and sat back down next to you before clearing his throat. He could see redness in your face as well, and mustered all his courage to do what he’d been wanting to for a while.

“Hey... I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you today and... I was wondering if... you’d maybe like to go out with me sometime?” 

Your resounding yes made this the best day ever.

Yamaguchi:

It was a Saturday, sunny, warm, and boring. Yamaguchi had decided to try and pass the time by going for a quick stroll down to his favourite café, passing through a lovely green park on the way, where he walked around, looking at the different species of flower, and the fish in the ponds, throwing a few crumbs of bread to them as he passed. To be honest, the only way for the day to be more perfect would have been a backing soundtrack, then it would have felt like something directly out of a feel-good film. 

Coming to a new street, he wandered past a few shops, until he came to where he’d been meaning to come. The sweets sold here were the best, and getting one, plus a lemonade, to take away while he walked was just an extremely relaxing thing to do. He was planning to go and read a book in the park, to soak up some of the sunlight and enjoy the lovely afternoon.

The bell tinkled as he pushed open the door, and his nose was caressed by the smell of baking bread and sugar. However, as he approached the front to order, he spotted you and a couple of your friends sitting in the corner, near the window, all of you nursing some cold drinks and chatting with one another. His heart jumped into his throat, the sound of it pounding in his ears. The lady at the countertop, who had got to know Yamaguchi relatively well, since he came here so often, leaned over and grinned at him.

“Do you know them?” She asked, a twinkle in her eyes. At his nod, she giggled and said to him, “Whichever of them you like, you should say so! I bet they’d say yes!”

He thanked her, quietly, and smiled, knowing that she only meant well, and waited at the side of the counter for his order to be ready. As he waited, your voice drifted over to him from your seat at the window.

“So, do you like anyone?” One of your friends said with a laugh, you appeared to be having one of those lighthearted discussions that good friends sometimes have about such things.

A blush sprang to your face, and you brought a hand to your eyes, “...Maybe...” Leaning forwards, your friend gestured for you to continue. You sunk further into your chair in embarrassment.

“Ok... so you know... Yamaguchi?”

“Yamaguchi?” Your friend replied excitedly.

“Yeah,” smiling, your gaze drifted a little, as if you were lost in thought. “He’s just the sweetest, honestly, so supportive and kind, he helped me out after I tripped over the other day, and, when I missed one of the maths lessons, he talked me through the material... he’s lovely...”

Grinning, your friend patted your hand, relaxing back into their chair, “Well, he’s definitely not the worst person for you to be crushing on, you’ll need to drop some hints though... want a hand?”

“Stop it!” You whined, bringing your hands up again to cover your tomato-red face as your friend laughed.

Yamaguchi left the café with three things, a pastry, a lemonade, and the resolve to ask you out the next time he saw you. He practically skipped down the lane as he went back to the park, joy filling his heart.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

[wincore]

wasted nights | liu yangyang

pairing: yangyang x reader

words: 5.5k

summary: firstly, you don’t think you should have survived this long. secondly, this might be the zombie apocalypse but your survival doesn’t feel as threatened by zombies as it does by liu yangyang. thirdly, you’ve chosen the worst time to develop a crush.

genre: zombie apocalypse!au, fluff, humour(?)

warnings: mention of injuries & blood, violence (against zombies), dumbassery, do not attempt during an actual zombie apocalypse

song rec(s): wasted nights - one ok rock 

a/n: october birthdays get halloween specials~ although this one is just full of unnecessary appearances by cats. also campfires because october campfires hit different. (i’m definitely saying this because i was born in october) also not me writing this as a joke and reaching 5.5k words </3

It’s two hours till sundown. 

What would you be doing on a day within the ordinary? Likely getting back from after school activities, chatting with a friend or feeding the stray kittens by the school building, or maybe pretending Liu Yangyang doesn’t exist—the possibilities were endless. Now there’s only one.

“Yangyang,” you call, more worried than not.

On a day out of the ordinary, you wish you hadn’t prayed for your exam to get cancelled the day all of this broke out. You wouldn’t be scavenging like some sort of rodent and you wouldn’t be standing at the gates of an abandoned shrine, though now is undoubtedly a better time to pray. It’s not the best of situations (especially not with a certain little rascal attached to your side). 

And understatements are definitely your thing now.

“Yangyang,” you call a little louder this time, eyes shifting around the shrine area. 

Should you step in? He asked you to wait, the stone steps now looking a little glum without him skipping over them. The only signs of life you’ve seen around has been a family of raccoons looking rather smug and a single spotted dove preening itself atop a branch. The lack of visibility into the forest surrounding the shrine bothers you, like something could jump out any minute and you suck your teeth, growing annoyed. Where is that boy?

You tap your foot against the ground soundlessly. What if a zombie were to pop out? They might be slow but the sight of them is still gross enough to paralyze you. Yangyang has his baseball bat with him, which leaves you defenseless in terms of weapons. Still, it’s not like the bat would have done you any good. You are, in the truest sense of the word, average at any sort of combat and freezing at the limbs comes to you more naturally. Zombies are not fun; whatever nonsense Yangyang has been trying to explain to you for weeks is optional, as is every other suggestion that comes from his mouth. It’s quiet and quiet, creepy shrines have never been your favourite place in the city.

You hear a low growl behind you, stiffening at the sound. Best case scenario, it’s a big rat. You’d rather not think of the worst case. Eventually, you gather some courage and turn slowly only to jump back with a short scream. 

Yangyang takes the old festival mask off to reveal a giant grin on his face, urging you to knock it right off. The anger that follows is natural and he should be used to it by now. Yangyang continues smiling, as if he didn’t just pull your soul right out of your body, and when he opens his mouth to say something, you’re quick to land a swift punch to his gut. He lets out a pained cry, dropping to the ground in a squat.

“Don’t do that,” you seethe. “Why can’t you greet me normally?”

“I’m okay!” He signals a thumbs up while the other hand clutches his stomach. 

“I didn’t ask.”

He moves his hand to place it over his chest. “Ow. Oh, and to answer your question, it’s because you don’t want to do my special handshake with me.”

“Hm. Get up. You said there were supplies here. What did you find?”

He pouts, finally getting up. “I can’t believe you’re just using me for supplies.”

You cross your arms. “Just get up already.”

Yangyang springs up despite the (admittedly) strong blow to his stomach and presents to you the plastic bag he’d been holding. In any other circumstances, it would spark some disapproval on your behalf but it turns out, those things do outlive most everything. For a moment, the ridiculous image of pulling a plastic bag over a zombie’s head crosses your mind. 

Yangyang finally responds, taking out whatever items he recovered. Not everything is useful however; he’s simply taken to collecting knick-knacks. 

“I found toothbrushes! Maybe your breath will stop stinking—”

You raise your clenched fist as a threat.

“—I was kidding. Obviously. You have lovely breath.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose in an attempt to contain your exasperation. 

“Also, I found clean water so I filled up some bottles and yeah, I couldn’t find much else but oh! There was this huge cat and I mean huge like a big chonk kinda guy, you know? And I’m sure he was, like, trying to tell me something, like, he kept hissing when I went near him but…”

You wonder if Yangyang ever gets tired from speaking so fast, his words fading out of your comprehension. You shake your head, clearing your throat.

“Can we leave now?”

Yangyang raises an eyebrow, almost smirking as the gears in his head turn.

“You’re not… superstitious, are you?” he asks. “I heard there’s a lot of reported sightings of ghosts here.”

“No,” you blurt, quick to deny. Yangyang might have seen you crying after getting lost in the dark, almost fainting after encountering a zombie for the first time or even in deep sorrow after you lost your friend—but there’s still part of your dignity to protect before you can admit your fear of ghosts. There’s just something about this abandoned shrine; there are no visitors apart from the caretaker and if loneliness is responsible for anything, it’s making lonely things seem a whole lot scarier. You’d rather leave before the sun sets.

Yangyang laughs. “Who do you think would win in a fight? Zombies or ghosts?”

You roll your eyes. “That’s so stupid. Obviously ghosts.”

“No. Okay, maybe. I just think…”

There he goes again. 

You wonder if he was always this way—when you passed him by in the hallways, when he shot you a polite smile at club meetings or when you saw him being loud with his friends blocking part of the sidewalk. You’re sure he couldn’t have been entirely sane.

“Oh my god.”

Yangyang’s voice jerks you back to the present. You follow his line of sight to a cardboard box beneath a particularly dense shrub; it's a large one—quite possibly a carton of some commercial product which doesn’t matter anymore. However, it’s not the details of the box itself so much as it is the contents that grab your attention. 

You can almost see the sparkle in Yangyang’s eyes as he views the cats huddled together inside the box. They don’t seem to mind each other within their personal space—you count four of them, tightly packed and eyes closed in a late afternoon nap. How the box hasn’t ripped apart yet is quite a mystery, and what’s more troubling is how at ease they seem to be with the entire human race in disarray.

You grab Yangyang by the collar before he can make his way to them.

“Don’t harass them,” you say, massaging your temples. “Jesus, it’s like they’re glued to each other. Do they have to be in the same box?”

“It might just be the last cardboard box left on earth.” Yangyang shrugs.

The cats mind their own business, grooming their fur or closing their eyes in an odd sort of bliss. You wonder what it would be like to be so unbothered by all the chaos. It reminds you of someone.

“Come on,” you urge, thinking back to older times. “Don’t think I forgot how much you used to bother old Louis back then.”

Louis was the university cat, fed with so much love that he eventually started avoiding people like the plague. You wonder how he’s holding up for a brief moment.

“Don’t think I forgot how you were back then too.”

“What do you mean?” you snap, glaring at him.

“You were already a zombie,” he says before engaging in a cheap mimicry of you, drooping his eyelids and taking slow steps muttering, “I… must… maintain… gpa… grr.”

You almost take off your shoe to throw it at him before deciding it’s not worth your time. Ah, if only you had done that during club meetups, perhaps you’d have felt better about him joining. Everyone treated him so differently, and you hate to admit you now understand why. 

Everyone loves a good troublemaker.

And there happens to be another thing special about your sole competitor for the debate club’s president position. Apart from his strange antics (charms, he says), even this virus—this fuckall literal killer virus can’t infect him. He’s immune—an occurrence with a possibility lower than you finding him attractive. (There, you said it.)

You look at Yangyang still talking about Louis and a small smile crosses your face. You’d feed your right arm to a zombie before you admitted it but it’s nice having him around. You furrow your brows at the sudden familiar bubbling in your chest and shove it away in a flash before your conscious decides to tell you what it is. 

Your heart jumps to your throat when you make eye contact with Yangyang, turning away in a rather awkward manner. Oh, the end of the world does awful things to you.

“Are you listening?” Yangyang raises an eyebrow. “Oh my god, you weren’t listening at all.”

You roll your eyes. “I was distracted.”

“By me?” he offers in a sing-song voice, prompting a smack from you. It’s easier to pretend this way.

Yangyang massages his shoulder with a huff. “Why are you hitting me so much today? I’ve counted like eight and the day’s only just over.”

“Sorry,” you mumble before clearing your throat. “I mean, you’ve also said something annoying, like, more than eight times today.”

“I’m not annoying.”

There’s a pause.

“Okay, maybe a little bit.”

The sun starts to lay in rest by the time you reach the city. Compared to the green, red and yellow of the yet standing shrine, this place is in dull monochrome with the occasional coloured signs that flicker to life. You force yourself to think but have a hard time remembering if it was always this way. Was it any different with the rushing cars or apathetic crowds? You can’t tell. You were part of them, after all. 

“Hey, how about a bottle flip challenge but with traffic cones?” Yangyang thinks aloud, walking backwards as you pass by a particularly well-lit alley. 

You roll your eyes in response. Is it the lack of people making him that way? Your unflustered companion looks at home among neon lights, all of them seeming to point towards him as an answer to a question you haven’t quite figured out yet. 

You glance at the alley just a second longer. The electric lanterns still glow red, and although dim, there are many. The shops almost look like you could enter and be greeted with a crowd of university kids or a group of office workers drinking away in celebration of the weekend. You sigh. It’s most certainly deserted inside; there’s no doubt. At the most, the tables are still arranged neatly and the meat grills aren’t completely rusted. You wonder if it’s a Friday.

There was never much grass in the city but whatever growth there was has withered into a mustard yellow or a lamenting grey. An empty city is hardly appealing, but you can’t deny the ill-favored things you’ve done the past few months in the absence of people—a part of you questioning whether breaking into supermarkets is still against the law when no one’s around to keep it. You smile at the memory of Yangyang pushing you around in a shopping cart, though you’d gotten drunk off the (stolen) liquor prior. The neon lights hanging as a banner over sketchy shops sometimes spark alive before dying down over and over again, and to be fair, you don’t think they ever shined too bright. Ironically, they’re the liveliest thing about the city now. 

The sky’s soaked in ink at a time you assume to be around seven in the evening. You walk closer to Yangyang without realizing; it’s not often you’ve been out this late the past few months.

“Hey.” Yangyang snaps you out of your daze. “Be careful.”

The words are strange coming from him but you understand why. You look up ahead with caution and a shiver runs down your spine as you stare at the intersection, a lone, tattered figure droning aimlessly. It’s only one, you tell yourself. And they’re slow.

The memories of your previous encounters send warnings over your skin, shivers begging you to run as fast as you can. You would if it weren’t for Yangyang’s grip on your hand, tugging you forward gently and though it’s something he does every time, you wonder if he knows how you’re really feeling. His footsteps are soundless, with the same red sneakers he’s worn since the beginning of this but something tells you it’s not the shoes that give him a cat’s footfall. The purple lights flicker on and off over the shop on the opposite street, the suddenness of it making you latch onto Yangyang for a short-lived moment. You’re quick to let go, throat too dry to make any sound. 

You curve around what would be a straight path, careful not to be in the creature’s line of sight when you cross. The streets seem wider when they’re so empty, and somehow it feels more unlawful this way. Yangyang signals to you to stay closer, and you follow before bumping into his back when he stops abruptly. There’s absolutely no sound, the feeling in your gut much worse than at the shrine.

“Something’s wrong,” Yangyang whispers.

A strangled shriek erupts from your mouth when something launches itself onto the two of you, making you land on your butt. You would’ve placed your hands over your eyes, but you’ve learned how to be less of a coward these past few days. 

A shaky breath leaves you. A cat. It was a stray cat. The little asshole looks at you with almost twinkling eyes, tail swishing from side to side before deciding you’re not worth its time. Your shoulders sag, a moment of relief despite your stiff muscles.

“Uh, (name)?”

You look up only for your stomach to fill with dread. The zombie from before is staring directly at the two of you, the same vacant look in its eyes that has haunted you for the entirety of the apocalypse.

“It’s okay, he’s too slow,” Yangyang reminds you, voice barely a whisper as he helps you stand.

“We can just take the other street—it’s a little longer but it’s mostly safe and there’s no way he can—”

Yangyang is interrupted by a sickening growl from behind you and you jump back. There’s another one. And another. You count four more before holding back a swear. Yangyang grabs you by the shoulder and the two of you take a step back, onto the sidewalk. There’s a shop behind you; you read a smeared sign above the plastic door curtains indicating a dumpling place. Even if you were to hide in there, there’s no guarantee you’d be safe. 

But if you’ve learned anything in these months, it’s that anything is always better than nothing.

The night has settled in completely, you realize. You’re about to tug Yangyang to the inside as you turn around, only to freeze up in your spot. A pale woman emerges from the store, her makeup still fresh but you know that look, the look in her eyes. How cruel.

“Please,” she mumbles, taking a step towards you and you think you might just cry. It’s not long before she turns, you think with dread.

You stumble back to Yangyang when she emits a blood curdling screech, lunging at you and to either your alarm or worse, relief, Yangyang pushes you back. You watch with wide eyes as the woman sinks her teeth into his arm, nausea growing at the sight of blood. He moves fast though, his arm swinging the baseball bat to meet the woman in the head, hard enough to knock her out. In these few moments, one of the zombies is close enough to reach an arm out towards you and you swear you can hear the horrid sound of his bones cracking when you step back. The longer you remain in this state, the slower you are. You suppose you should take comfort in these words but when you look at it, you still see a man.

Hollow. They’re all hollow. 

You take a deep breath.

Just as the thought crosses your head, you see Yangyang swing his bat again, meeting the zombie on the head and much to your wide-eyed horror, the head flies off into the dumpling shop and the body reacts with just about as much confusion as you do. It wildly waves about its hands in the now vacant spot before crumpling onto the road with a quiet realization.

Yangyang makes a face, pressing his knuckle to his mouth to prevent himself from what you presume is gagging. However, when you look closely, he seems to be holding back a laugh instead and very painfully so. You know he has a habit of laughing at the most inappropriate times but this, it really takes the cake.

“Home run?” he suggests, turning to you with a sheepish half-grin. There’s no hint of malice in his voice and you think that it’s probably not that he enjoys swinging his baseball bat at zombies. 

“You’re disgusting,” you reply, shaking your head.

“Maybe I should leave you here then.” 

You can’t believe he has the gall to be cheeky with blood running down his arm and four of the undead drooling at the sight of you two. 

“Do you think we can find ingredients that aren’t stale here? I miss having dumplings.”

“Yangyang.”

“Okay, okay.”

The other ones are still far enough and the two of you take this chance to run off towards the street Yangyang mentioned earlier and safely out of view. You notice him panting heavier than before, and your eyes scan over his arm in worry. The bite is ugly, red with oozing blood, and you hold back the urge to ask him if he’s anaemic. 

Yangyang follows your eyes before an ‘ah’ leaves his lips. He spins his head to the right, trying to catch a glimpse of the wound in the same manner a dog chases after its own tail. He puts the bat down to try and twist his arm to see the injury but you stop him, clicking your tongue at his silly behaviour.

“You’re not twelve, Yangyang,” you scold. “Let’s get back to the hotel first.”

He shrugs, and you think some provoking words are ready to leave his mouth when he simply picks up his bat and walks off. You blink before quickening your steps to catch up with him. The blood dripping down his forearm makes you feel a little unwell but you know better than to touch infections.

It takes around fifteen minutes longer than usual to reach the hotel—Yangyang was right. It is safer here, with no zombies lurking around the corners. He must have been out late when he was scouting, you think with distaste.

You reach the now-rusting gates of your haven without trouble and the moment you reach, Yangyang falls to his knees, heaving a breath he seems to have been holding. You rush to him, eyes frantic when you reach your hand out to him, and he flinches, moving away from you.

“Don’t,” he mutters before getting up. “You turning into a real zombie would be my personal nightmare.”

It’s not enough to curb your worry but you follow him nonetheless, the stupid, wavering grin on his face making you unable to decipher what he’s really feeling. 

The familiar smell of honeysuckle washes into you as you pass by the entrance, locking the door behind you as Yangyang falls onto one of the chairs in the lobby. Kunhang happened to be passing by, a muffled swear leaving him when he sees the blood on Yangyang’s arm.

“You didn’t touch him, did you?” he asks, pulling on his gloves to further see the wound. A former med student is the best you have here, and somehow, you’ve never seen him complain about having to take care of someone as bothersome as Yangyang. 

You shake your head in reply to Kunhang and watch as he runs from shelf to shelf to procure more bandages than you’ve ever seen in your life. You’ve been seeing an awful lot lately. 

“We’re going to run out of bandages in a week if he keeps this up,” Kunhang says with a frown, moving so fast you can barely see his hands. “He’ll be okay, I guess. The virus just makes him dizzy.”

He’s probably thinking the same thing you are. Something serious happening to Yangyang is a little bit of a miracle. Maybe he’ll finally be set right in the head. 

Even so, you know Kunhang is worried despite his quick response, his frown lines deepening once he’s done wrapping up. He sighs before waltzing off to discard his gloves.

It’s not that you aren’t impressed by Kunhang; you’ve just seen him do that too many times to count. And of course, it’s mostly Yangyang on the receiving end. They might be good friends but this also happens to be the only time they're serious together. Moreover, Kunhang seems to beat Yangyang in the talking-for-twelve-hours-straight department. You have to admit though, being in charge of first aid for the few people stuck in this hotel is not an easy business. 

You take a seat opposite to Yangyang, dozing off in his chair and wonder if you should wipe the drool off his chin. Disgusting, you think to yourself, but another part of you dares to offer the word cute. 

The best thing about barricading yourself in a hotel during the apocalypse is not having to worry about beds. There’s at least five hundred rooms in this skyrise, more than enough for, what, sixteen people? The place is so big that you hardly run into the others. The only rule around here is regarding the pantry—to write down who’s taken what on the notepad stuck to one corner. Despite what movies show, people are far more helpful to each other in times of need, more so than usual even. You relax into the chair, the velvet cushion feeling comfortable against your back. 

There’s a nice communal feeling in this place. 

You frown. It’s not like you can stay here forever. 

At the very least, you can pretend each sundown and sunrise is ordinary here. You close your eyes, and slowly, thoughts of why you’re trying so hard to remember life before this drift away.

//

Yangyang wakes up before you do, grinning like crazy as he shrugs you awake. You stare at him through groggy eyes, untangling your limbs from yourself. The cold seeps into you and you shiver, hugging yourself.

“We found the keys to the lounge,” he rushes, albeit in a gentle voice. “Guess what?”

“Unh?”

“There’s a campfire spot over there! The others already started but I thought I should wake you up.”

It’s just like him to be excited about something like that. You get up nevertheless, Yangyang pulling you through the stairs and onto the only elevator that seems to work around here. There’s quite a few things about this hotel left to be figured out. You’re going to have to start worrying anyway when the power from the generator runs out.

Kunhang and an older man, Mr Kang, are the only ones there once you reach. You had expected it but the lounge is gigantic and a small part of it provides the artificial campfire area. There are paintings of wild animals and trees for children, you assume, on the walls only cut off by a large vent on the ceiling. The fire burns bright over the large circle of soil and firewood, whose authenticity is debatable. You sigh at the warmth, having grown tired of the autumn weather’s mood swings.

Kunhang greets the two of you with a grin before delicately poking Mr Kang to at least acknowledge your presence. It’s funny, the lot of you.

The place is a little small, considering there’s a literal fire in the middle of the room. You almost sit on Yangyang because he shifts too suddenly at Mr Kang’s disapproval of proximity, a small yelp leaving you whereas Yangyang, for the first time, looks like he’d rather die. He mutters an apology, and two of you manage to sit a good two feet apart, sudden awkwardness rising in the air—all of it unnoticed by Mr Kang. You heard he was a banker but if Kunhang and Yangyang had a polar opposite, it would most certainly be him. You can’t even remember the man’s voice.

You think you should say something but Kunhang’s laughter breaks the silence. There’s an unspoken exchange between him and Yangyang, piquing your curiosity though you aren’t sure what you should be asking. You just assume it’s one of their stupid inside jokes.

“I left your gift on your table. You can add it to your dumb shoe collection,” Kunhang tells Yangyang, smiling before standing up to stretch. “I’m going to bed. Mr Kang, won’t you accompany me?”

Mr Kang gets up begrudgingly and you’re about to ask them to stay longer when Kunhang turns to you enthusiastically. “Good night, (name). Don’t have too much fun. Although, I suppose there’s no better time to have too much fun either.”

You watch with furrowed brows as the two disappear into the doorway and down the stairs. You spend a couple of moments in silence before clearing your throat. When it goes unnoticed, you turn to Yangyang despite the warmth on your face. 

“It’s not dumb,” he mutters to himself, a little zoned out.

You stare at him for a few moments and the familiar feeling rises in your throat, now with a little voice to accompany it. 

Cute.

You cough, distracting yourself with any and all thoughts you would rather have, even of the zombies. Now isn’t the time—or is it the perfect time? You shake your head, calming yourself.

“Does it… hurt?” You ask, eyeing Yangyang’s arm.

He looks up as if broken from a daze, the campfire lights still dazzling in his eyes. You hold back a laugh. He really is a child; if he’s so easily mesmerized by fires, that is.

“Probably not any worse than the lady I whack-a-mole’d. Now that must’ve hurt.” Yangyang puffs his cheek before looking straight at you.

You stare back. It’s not the weirdest thing he’s said.

“What? I feel bad beating the crap out of zombies sometimes,” he says, scratching the back of his head. 

You hum in response. The thought of Yangyang developing a conscience is almost as bad as having to think about zombies. Though, you’ll have to admit, it does give you a strange relief. Zombies can’t really feel pain—they are, after all, numb in every possible sense—but some part of you wonders if it’s alright like this. Morals and survival aren’t meant to overlap. 

You feel the need to distract yourself with something.

“Hey,” you call, moving closer to Yangyang such that your shoulders almost touch. Before you know it, you brush the hair from his face, trying to style the mess into something more neat—a thing you’ve been wanting to do since the first time you saw him. Every time you’d see the messy mop of hair at an official event of the debate club, you’d have this strong urge and an almost putrid form of annoyance. You still don’t know how he managed to get in.

“You don’t look terrible with parted hair,” you muse. “You could’ve looked more decent at the debates.”

You look down from his hair to see Yangyang frozen, eyes wide as if a deer in the headlights.

“Are- Are you not breathing?” you ask.

Yangyang sucks in a large chunk of air, fast enough to choke on it and break into a coughing fit as he turns away from you. You reach out to pat his back but he waves his hand at you, indicating he’s fine before he can turn to you.

You look at him with no particular emotion, the night breeze having worked its way to you.

“What was that about a gift? Are you and Kunhang getting things for each other without telling me?” you say, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

There's a short pause, filled with the crackling of fire.

“It’s my birthday,” Yangyang says with a small smile as the campfire lights dance across his cheeks.

And yet, the words come out sad as if he’d been waiting for an occasion to tell you. You look at him, eyes widening ever so slightly accompanied by the loss of words and take a sharp breath.

“I’m not going to ask for a gift,” Yangyang teases. “Don’t look so worried.”

You open your mouth and close it again, unable to explain the gentle wash of sadness overcome you when you see just a boy. For all the talking he does, he never asks for much. 

“I mean, I- I liked spending the day with you. Why do you look so sad? Did I say something? Again?”

You look over his features, from his brow bone to his wide eyes to his lips and the conclusion arrives as gently as the end of the world. What’s the worst that could happen?

You quickly pull him into a hug, still careful of his injury, and a vaguely embarrassing sound escapes Yangyang, something akin to a sheep’s call. He clears his throat which turns into coughing before he can wrap his arms around you, his breathing soft against your shoulder. 

“I’m- I’m alive, you know? I don’t think I’m dying any time soon. I- I can’t even get infected! You know that.”

“That’s not why I’m- I…” You pull back, steeling your eyes so you don’t feel the warmth of embarrassment. 

Just like you prepare for debates, you think to yourself. Maybe Yangyang was right about you being a zombie—the way you follow the same drudging formula.

“I like you,” you say, your words more of a strained whisper but they’re out before you know it. You can fake confidence, you tell yourself. It’s horrible timing and spending your (potentially) last days with someone who rejected you is just another way to shoot yourself in the foot.

But part of you has been wanting to do this for so long that you almost don’t mind.

Yangyang sucks in a breath, pressing his knuckles to his mouth as he straightens.

“That was- Wow. Okay. I- Uh. Wow.”

You let the heat grow stronger in your cheeks, racking your head for an explanation or even a lie. Maybe you can say it was a mistake. 

“I- I meant…” You lose track of your words. You can’t lie.

“I’ve never been confessed to,” he blurts, and if you squint, you swear you can see him blushing.

“Huh?”

Yangyang coughs again, followed by the same embarrassing sound. “That was- That was the first time.”

The silence between you is accompanied by the crackling of fire and the soft path-making of wind. You’re at a loss for words, something that you should be used to by now—they clearly belong to someone else.

“Oh my god, that was so stupid,” he says, pulling a horrified face as he frantically waves his hands about. “I meant to say I like you too but I- I guess I forgot to say it out loud. Ah, crap- I sound even stupider now, don’t I?”

Your lips twitch, trying to contain your smile but you’re seized with uncontrollable laughter anyway. The mortified expression on Yangyang’s face makes you burst into another fit of giggles before you can somewhat compose yourself.

“I think that’s the longest you’ve been quiet for,” you say in between recurring laughter. “Did anyone ever tell you being able to talk fast doesn’t get you ahead in debate clubs?”

Yangyang frowns.

“Oh, I just joined because I thought it’d get on your nerves,” he says, not a hint of jest in his voice.

You straighten away from him, the smile dropping from your face.

“You can’t be serious.”

He grins sheepishly, scratching the back of his head and offering no explanation. You huff in exasperation, getting up abruptly to avoid another oncoming headache. It’s a little difficult, considering you have the human version of it right beside you.

“Wait- Where are you going?” Yangyang scrambles up to his feet. “It’s my birthday, you know?”

You turn around and put your hands on your hips, a small smile on your face at the sight of him. “It’s midnight already.”

“Oh. How was I supposed to know?”

You laugh, shaking your head. Maybe the little rascal is special.

“Hey,” Yangyang calls. “You know, since this is the end of the world and all…”

You stare at him, heartbeat erratic at the lack of distance and despite the fading of teenage fantasies. Yangyang shifts nervously, glancing here and there while simultaneously trying to keep eye contact with you, an action which makes you hold back a chuckle. There’s a particular twinkle in his eyes but he can’t seem to be able to look at you straight.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, finally.

And what a daring end to the world it is.

[expiredfairydust]

pride and prejudice - soudam

-a/n, this will be all written from kazuichi’s point of view in first person-

the crowd was buzzing with excitement, rainbows and bright colours everywhere. despite the utter eyestrain my poor head was subjected to, i was having a really good time! not because I’M gay or whatever!! i was there with komaeda is all, coz i wanted him to know i’m cool with it now we’re like buddies and whatever.

exceeept for when i lost him in the parade, a herd of drag kings and queens separating us, followed by tons of more people, until i was on opposite sides of the parade to him, probably coz of poor komaeda’s luck biting him in the arse at the worst of times.

but it was ok, because i was chatting to a girl wearing a pin with red and orange and white and pink on it, and she seemed really nice! i didn’t get to ask what her pin meant though,, she had blue hair and reminded me of that pop idol in the year below me at school,, i wonder if they’re sisters. she had a friend who was holding hands with her with black hair in two twirly ponytail-things that i recognised but didn’t know her name so just waved and kept talking in the hopes that i wouldn’t have to name the goth-looking girl.

i saw lots of different people during the parade today! it’s so cool how many people are happy to be themselves! it makes me feel happy to be near so many lgbt+ people— even though i’m not one of them! definitely not!!

i saw someone really pretty in the crowd with browny-blondey hair who i recognised after a while was that tech kid from the year below who sometimes turns up to my STEM club, she was wearing one of the few flags i recognised as a cape; the non binary flag! i wanted to talk to them and ask about it but i was worried that i’d look intrusive so didn’t approach,,

after a few hours it was becoming more and more obvious that i had completely lost komaeda, so i went wading through the crowd of rainbows and smiles in an attempt to find him. past tanaka’s friend hifumi; past miss sonia and miss ibuki, the latter plastered in neon paint like it was skin ointment; past leon, wearing a blue and pink and white flag and no shirt- god he’s so hot, he even has muscles from his baseball even though he’s rather lean— scrap passing him i was probably stuck there staring at him for a solid half hour before wiping away a small amount of drool over him— but NOT because i’m gay!!!!! he was just super hot,,, not in a gay way though! i can just appreciate beauty when i see it!

once i had given up on finding komaeda, a tap on my shoulder startled me into whipping my head around to look, straight in the eyes,,

at the most gorgeous person i’d ever seen, period. soft heterochromic eyes that filled my stomach butterflies; raven hair seeming so soft i wanted nothing more than to pet it for hours on end; and a face that belonged to none other than tanaka. fucking. gundham!! it was wearing a few pronoun pins so i read them and made a mental note before realising vamp was speaking to me

“-souda? are you listening to me?” doll had the most beautiful pout on dolls face as it whined playfully, and her pout almost made me feel guilty for the sheepish response that came from my mouth:

“uh no, i was- i’m sorry tanaka”

yet he didn’t get angry or sad at all! it smiled at me in a soft manner before asking, “i asked is something bothering you?” before asking another question, but not without a little hesitance - “are you here um alone? or are you- are you with someone?” to which i quickly replied,

“i’m here to support komaeda but uh i kinda lost him in the crowd and now i can’t find him” with a nervous laugh.

“ah, he does that a lot doesn’t he?”

we chatted absent mindedly for what felt like it could’ve been forever before tanaka offered to help me look for komaeda, so we started wading through the ocean of people, the masses of bodies forcing me to grab tanaka’s hand to keep me from losing vamp too. i swear, it was only because i didn’t wanna lose him though!! not because her hands were warm,, or soft,,, or fit perfectly into mine,,,,, not at all!!! i was just keeping vamp close!!

although i can’t help and say it was suuuper adorable when i saw dolls face go a faint pink as it hid its face in her scarf and mumbled something about his skin being poisonous, to which i couldn’t help but playfully coo, “guess i’ll have to fight the infection off for you~” which caused vamps face to heat up even more hehe it’s fun to fluster him, i know how touch starved she is (not in a gross way! get your mind out of the gutter kaz!!)

after a while, while everyone is starting to go home from the parade, we found komaeda finally, and at this point i was clinging to tanaka’s arm as if my life depends on it. coz i was REALLY scared of getting lost. not coz i’m gay. at all.

i spent the rest of the day with komaeda and tanaka, though i kept hold of tanaka’s hand until i was forced to let go to get us crisps. i felt kinda disappointed, like i was missing something without its hand in mine, but whatever i bet it’s just coz i’m just as touch started as doll!

we hung out at a park but there wasn’t room for all three of us on the swings so tanaka did something i never expected, vamp sat on my lap and we swung together on one swing.

whatever, he probably just thought i’d be comfier to sit with than komaeda.

at the end of the day, after komaeda had been gone for a while - apparently hajime needed to ask him about some homework? even though they’re not even in the same classes - tanaka greeted me goodbye by taking my hand and pressing into it a badge with a bluey-tealy flag on it, then doll kissed my hand and said “we should hang out again, my dark prince, i had a lovely time” with a warm smile, though i got the impression that next time komaeda wouldn’t be joining us. i also got the feeling that i’d be okay with that.

maybe i’m not as not-gay as i thought…

[i-am-ironic]

So I'm dead then. Interesting.

Sorry this took so long to get out a lot of stuff has been happening and I've been super busy. Anyway i saw this idea a LONG time ago and it just seemed perfect for daminette.

**************************

As Damian opened his eyes he looked around. This room was not familiar. He was not at the manner then, so where was he? The room was far too pink for his tastes, and was that a dress in the corner? No this definitely wasn't the manner.

"Marinette!! Get up you are going to be late for the first day of school!!"

Damian jumped, wiping his head around. Next to him was a girl who was just starting to wake up. She had black hair that fell just around her shoulders. She sat up in bed and stretched. wait a minute, WHY WAS HE IN THE SAME BED AS HER???!!!! This was bad this was very bad!!! He was only 13!!! what happened!!

Damian tried to push himself away from her only to fall through the rail on the side of her bed. The girl, Marinette, didn't seem to notice him she simply climbed down the ladder and, grabbing some clothes, headed to the bathroom. He could hear the shower turn on so he decided to look around.

She had a sewing machine on a desk with a sckech book open next to it. The sckech book held elegant dresses and tuxedos with embroidery so perfectly placed you would have to wonder if it was part of the fabric.

There were pictures on the wall of the girl's friends, one boy seemed to take up most of the space, perhaps her boyfriend? Damian also found a skylight that appeared to open onto a balcony.

When Marinette reappeared she was wearing a nice outfit, still drying her hair off from the shower.

Damian decided now was as good a time as any to ask her what the heck he was doing here, "Excuse me miss," no response, "I was wondering where I am and who you are." Still nothing, "im trying to talk to you!" Damien said reaching out his hand to grab her by the shoulder. His hand passed right through her. He stared at the girl who was still packing her backpack, and then at his hand which was becoming more solid every second he wasn't touching her.

He grabbed his own hand and could feel the scars on it from the league. But when he tried to touch Marinette again his hand passed through her, this time she shivered a bit. Odd he could touch himself but not her, could he touch other things? He reached out to the wall, his hand rested on it until he pushed more and he began to slip through the wall. Very interesting.

As Marinette walked down the stairs to the voice that had called her before Damian followed testing things as her went. Marinette sat down to eat breakfast with who he asumed to be her parents before rushing off to her first day of school.

As Damian followed her throughout the day he discovered several things: he didn't have legs anymore. Where his legs had once been was now replaced with a flowy tail (like the genie in Alddin). He also couldn't be seen or heard by anyone, he had tried to speak but nothing happened. And to top it all off he was in France!! He probably should have figured that out by all the people speaking French but it hit him when marinette had gone to the Eiffel tower after school. Well not exactly marinette, ladybug had gone to the Eiffel tower when fighting a monster called stone heart.

After Stone Heart was defeated marinette went back home and detransformed, Damian hadn't seen her receive the earrings so seeing a giant floating ladybug was strange, but to be fair he was flying right now too.

"Oh marinette that was great! I knew you would make the perfect Ladybug!" Said the.... thing.

"Thank you Tikki!" Oh so that was the things name.

"It was your first day and......" Tikki paused, "oh marinette im so sorry, I didn't know."

"Whats wrong Tikki? What didn't you know?"

"your soulmate...... he's here." As if that explains everything! How was that supposed to help him.

"What do you mean my soulmate is here?" Marinette asked.

"If your soulmate dies before you meet them then they come to watch over you, most humans have soulmates they just don't know about it until its too late...... I can sense yours. I'm so sorry marinette."

so he was dead, that made a lot of sense actually. The last thing he remembered was fighting his clone and then darkness. He should be angry he knew that, but he really didn't care. He liked this girl, he felt safer with her in one day then he did with his father after a whole month. Still he wanted to try to tell his family he was alright..... ok maybe he wasn't alright but he was happy.

Marinette's voice brought him out of his thoughts. "What happened to him?"

Tikki closed her eyes trying to concentrate, "im not sure, he died bravely, in battle. Other then that i don't know."

Well she was correct, he did die in battle with his clone. He wondered what had happened in that battle after his death. Had his family succeeded in defeating his mother, or were they all dead too now? He had no answer but what he did know was that he should try to find them.

That night he began flying away in the direction he believed America was, he reached the sea faster then he had expected. One advantage about being dead was that he didn't get tired, he just kept flying.

Then suddenly he was back in marinette's room as she stretched on her bed. Sunlight was streaming through the skylight. Every time he tried to leave he reappeared at the exact time Marinette woke up every day. The day repeated much the same as the day before, one of the girl's in marinette's class called her names and didn't get in trouble, a monster was beaten by Ladybug and her partner Chat Noir, and he floated around.

Eventually he discovered he could leave massages for marinette on her phone, in the steam on her mirror, or if she left a notebook out overnight. He left small things like, "don't forget about you math test!" Or "Alya said you could go to her house for cookies after school" or "talk to chat noir before he becomes a problem." You know important stuff.

Damian discovered he had grown quite fond of his 'Soulmate' as Tikki had called her. She would talk to him sometimes, about school, ladybug stuff, everything. He would answer back when he could with a note or send a sign, she always seemed to understand.

One day after hearing Marinette talk about how hard it would be to find HawkMoth Damian decided to do something about it. That night he Searched evry house on the east side of Paris. When marinette woke up he was at her side.

He wasn't sure how long he looked, every day was spent with marinette and every night trying to find her enemy. He really wasn't sure how long he had been dead, it felt like he had always been like this, but at the same time like everything was brand new.

After what must have been weeks of searching he found Hawkmoth. The man was nun other then Gabriel Agreste. As damian raced back to marinette's house he got the familier feeling of being pulled away from his spot to Marinette.

Except he wasn't at Marinette's house, he wasn't even in Paris, he was in the batcave looking up at his father.

"Damien! It worked!" Cried Batman still holding his disoriented son.

Damien had no idea what was going on, one minute he was going to tell marinette who her worst enemy was and now he was half way across the world and appeared to be alive, again.

"Father? What am I doing here? Where is marinette?"

Bruce frowned at his son, "Who's marinette?"

Just as Damian was going to answer a loud crash came from behind them. He just got back and already had to fight someone. Great. The fight didn't take long once Damian discovered he had super powers given to him by the same crystal that brought him back to life.

After his family explained how they had brought him back using magic and that his grandfather was also alive again, he had his own explanation to give.

"Everything is all fuzzy."

"Thats alright Damian, you have been dead for months." Tim said.

"But i wasn't really dead," everyone glanced around confused as Damian continued, "I woke up in Paris, and she was waking up and I didn't know what to do, she is a Hero. She knew I was there. She knew I was dead. She is my soulmate."

"Damien are you okay?" Bruce said, this wasn't like Damien at all, he should be mad he let himself die not concerned for someone who didn't exist.

"I have to get to Paris! I HAVE TO TELL HER ABOUT HAWKMOTH! She has... to....know........" the end of his sentence drifted off as Dick pulled the needle out of Damian's arm.

"When he gets up, we will have to tell him that he was hallucinating, we don't need him running off to France to find someone who doesn't exist."

Soon the memorys of Marinette and his time being dead grew distant. He was unaware of the confusion he had caused in Paris.

Tikki could always feel marinette's soulmate as he traveled around Paris. Until he vanished. She immediately got Marinette out to the bathroom to talk.

"Marinette he's gone."

"Who is gone, Tikki?" Marinette asked.

Tikki frowned trying to feel him, "your soulmate he isn't here. I can't sense him anymore."

"There must be a reasonable explanation, maybe he just went out of Paris?"

"No, he isn't anywhere it's almost like he isn't dead anymore."

"But that's not possible, right?" Marinette asked almost hopefully.

"I've seen it before, but don't get your hopes up."

*********************

This isn't the best but I did my best. The ending definitely needs some work. I'm still learning to write so this is the best I could do, I think I'm going to do a list of ideas and have people request whichever one they want. If you like that idea let me know.

Tagging:

@ivymala07

@iloveitwhen

@chocoleteicecreamlover

@crystalangelluna

@clumsy-owl-4178

@pawsitivelymiraculous

[pettyrevenge-base]

Ignore me at my old job? Prepare to be ignored.

When I was fresh out of Uni I was finding it difficult to find a job with my new degree due to my lack of experience on the level of employment I was looking for. After moving to a new area to be closer to family, I sent out a flurry of applications for the less skilled work I had done while going to school (and thus had a lot of experience in). These positions were still in the field of my degree, just on a lower level. I immediately had several interviews lined up and ended up taking a position in a company that was close to my home and seemed to have opportunities for professional growth in my chosen field.

Upon starting my new job it immediately became obvious that there was a core group of 6-8 women who were very cliquey and, as it turned out, would  sometimes be bullies toward those not in the 'in crowd'. The first few days they were nice enough - not warm, mind you, but professional, at least. I figure they were feeling me out to see what kind of person I am.

Then one day came 'the test'. I don't remember the exact details because this was about 8 years ago, but one of them said something intentionally abrasive and insulting to me, presumably to gauge my reaction. I remained calm, as always, and basically just gave s**t right back to her, in a tone and manner that was not confrontational but firm, letting them all know I was not the easy mark they were looking for. They made a couple more weak attempts to get under my skin, but couldn't get the reaction they were hoping for, so eventually they mostly ignored me.

As my time in the department was approaching the one year mark I began looking for a better position, and soon found one in the same company that was more in line with my career goals. It paid better and I didn't have to see any of the 'mean girls' ever again, which was a bonus. After working at this new level for another year, this time in a management position, things were going really well. But I knew I now had more bargaining leverage after a year of management experience, and began looking for an even higher position elsewhere. It wasn't long before I was offered and accepted a job at a rival company that paid about 2/3 more than I had been making and also represented an upward move in my career.

Roughly two years later I was interviewing applicants for a couple of openings in my department. My assistant called the next interviewee in, and guess who walked in to try and get a job under me. Not only one of the 'mean girls', but one of the worst of the bad bunch. I had witnessed her and her friends run off at least two other employees at my old position, and there was no way in hello I was going to invite that kind of poison into my department.

The look on her face when she saw me was priceless, and inside I was smirking! But on the outside, I expressed surprise to see her (I actually was. Interviews were set up by our HR department along with my assistant). I greeted her warmly, like an old friend, and she visibly relaxed. We chatted a bit and I learned that our old department had been outsourced, and the clique had been split up. Turns out my old 'friend' was not happy with the new position she had been forced into and had actually quit without having another job lined up. I got the impression she was badly in need of a new job.

Smiling and still treating her like an old friend, I told her we would be in touch in a manner that insinuated that she was a shoo-in for one of the openings I had. As soon as she was out the door, her resume and application went right into the waste bin.

I had all but forgotten her when I got a call about a week and a half later. She was inquiring as to whether I had made a decision yet. Still being warm and friendly (which is actually my nature) I apologized and told her we had actually hired two people who had more experience, but if it was ok with her I would keep her resume and if anything else came up I would call her.

I spent the rest of the day with a slight spring in my step and I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. I never saw any of them again, so with this being a smallish industry I'm assuming she told her other cronies what happened, because no one else from their clique ever darkened my doorstep again.

Source: reddit.com/r/pettyrevenge

[fangirlfics]

What a Pirate part 2 (Harry Hook x reader)

summary: The vk’s come back to the isle in hopes of bringing Mal back home, then they find out about y/n and Harry’s relationship. 

word count: 1,243

1st part here

So after the whole incident of Harry taking y/n’s bracelet, this ‘stealing’ from each other became a thing. y/n had gotten her bracelet back, but that wasn’t the end. Whenever Harry gave her back whatever he had taken, he’d always take something else in it’s place. It was a never ending cycle-of course y/n had to pay Harry’s price to get her missing things back, and Harry being Harry always asked for the same thing-a kiss.

y/n at first thought that Harry was just messing with her, but why would someone repeatedly take your things and only return them for a kiss? Yeah it was weird. However she didn’t exactly mind-in fact she enjoyed seeing Harry quite a bit, probably more than she should for her own good-he was a flirt and a pirate and even worst-the enemy of her friends. But being around him made her happy and she didn’t really feel lonely anymore. She loved their chats and strolls-to say she was head over heels was an understatement. 

Harry stood in front of y/n, his usual grin on his face as he dangled an earning that he had taken yesterday from his hook. “Ye know the price lass.” He teased from her doorway.

“Wh-how did you even get in here?” y/n asked, quickly turning around.

“I have my ways. Now what about our trade?“ He asked softly. Approaching her slowly he held his hook up to her, she smiled taking her earring back and Harry leaned in to kiss her softly, just as always. “Oh I got ye somethin...swiped it from a table when the seller wasn’t looking.” Harry told the girl after pulling away, y/n tilted her head in question and watched as he pulled a necklace from his pocket with a smile, he handed it over for her to see. The necklace had a thin silver chain connecting to a small shiny silver hook. y/n smiled down at the necklace looking up at the boy, 

“You’re really obsessed with hooks, you know that?” y/n asked with a small giggle. “Thank you.” She added, attaching it around her neck. “I love it.” That made Harry smile a genuine smile-one of the ones that were oh so rare. “Wanna walk around the block?” y/n asked Harry and he agreed.

It was pretty dark and most people were in their homes, leaving the foggy streets empty. But as always, Auradon was in the distance and right now in the dark it was easy to spot it in all it’s bright glory. y/n took a moment to marvel at the view as always. “What’re ye thinking about?” Harry asked the girl, he slipped his hand into hers as they started their walk. 

y/n shrugged, “just thinking about what Auradon must be like.” She said, “It’s just-it looks so beautiful from here, I can only imagine what it actually looks like there. Plus...my friends are there and sometimes I wonder what they’re up to.”

“You still miss them?”

“Of course, they’re the only family I’ve ever really had.” She told him, “after they left it just wasn’t been the same...but...” she turned to face the pirate with a happy smile “then I met you...I mean I already knew who you were but I probably wouldn’t have ever really known you if they had stayed here. Anyway they’re probably happy in Auradon. Plus, I still have Carlos’s pocket watch to give back so, I’ll see them again...some day.” 

 “That pocket watch I stole from you is Carlos’s?” Harry asked glancing down at the girl. 

“Yeah he gave it to me before leaving, he said to keep it until he came back. You know, like a promise that he’d be back and wouldn’t completely forget about me.” The two continued to talk about whatever came up as they approached y/n’s place again, then there was the sound of hushed voices coming from the stairs leading up to her door, but whoever was there was hidden under the shadows.

“Another thief?” y/n asked under her breath, annoyed “that’s twice this week.” Harry took a step in front of the girl in a protective manner when the person at the top of the slid down the railing. Wait was that Jay? He looked up-spotting Harry and narrowed his eyes.

“Alright Hook, what’d you do to y/n?”

“Jay?” y/n asked-stepping out from behind Harry much to Jay’s surprise. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked between y/n and Harry. 

“Wait, he didn’t kidnap you?“ He asked, approaching her and she did the same.

“What! No!“ She answered with an equal amount of confusion. 

“You’re ok?“ Jay asked, putting a hand on her shoulder and forearm, inspecting her face for any sign of injury.

 “Jay I’m fine...what are you doing here?”

“y/n!“ y/n looked back up to her staircase just in time to see Carlos jump off halfway down, he didn’t hesitate to throw his arms around her in what seemed to be excitement and relief.

“Carlos!” She returned the hug as he laughed, spinning her around all. 

“It’s so good to see you!” They both exclaimed at the same time.

“y/n!”

“Evie!”

Jay cleared his throat, cutting the reunion short as the three looked his way-just now noticing that Harry was standing there. “What’s he doing here?” Carlos asked, getting defensive as he put his arms out to block y/n and Evie.

“Did he hurt you?” Evie asked the girl, putting her hands on the girl’s shoulders.

“No, Jay asked the same thing. What’s going on? Where’s Mal?”

“Mal went to talk to Uma.” Evie explained.

“What?”

“Because he kidnapped Ben.” Carlos explained, nodding to Harry with a glare.

“He wha-you kidnapped the king?” y/n asked turning towards Harry.

“Well when ye say it like that-”

“We came back to bring Mal back home and Uma’s crew took Ben, we came to get your help.”

“My help?”

“Yeah.” Carlos told her, “and to bring you with us. You’ve been alone here.”  

“She’s not that alone, she’s got me.“ Harry said, making the three VK’s turn. 

“What’d you say?” Jay asked, about to pounce y/n put her hand on his shoulder and he backed down.

“y/n what is he talking about?“ Evie questioned, “y/n are you together?“ She look horrified.

“Oh so you can put two and two together!“ Harry said, with mock enthusiasm. “Took ye long enough.“

“What!?“ Carlos asked just as mortified, “y/n he’s not good for you.“

“Listen to Carlos y/n.“ Jay told her, still holding his defensive stance.

“Well...“ Harry said, looking between the three VK’s with amusement “I really must be goin now. Bye y/n.“ He said waving before spinning around slowly and walking away.

“How did you even end up with him? He’s part of Uma’s crew!“ Evie whispered to her y/n with wide eyes as Jay and Carlos looked at her. 

“It’s kind of a long story...“

“I-“ Evie began to say but Jay‘s look made her stop.

“Right now we just need to focus on getting Ben back.” Jay told the three, Carlos and Evie nodded. “y/n, can you help us?” 

y/n looked between the three of them then back to where Harry had disappeared to, “sure.” She sighed, crossing her arms. “Why not?”  

[pugzman3]

My level of thinking may differ in some respects. I watched every minute of the Chauvin trial. He was kneeling on George Floyds neck. In videos it was apparent that that was happening. On the subject of 1st amendment rights in the private sector you are wrong. The Framer's of the Constitution would not have imagined our current situation but, it does say the there is a difference between Private and Government as far as 1st amendment rights. An employer or a private platform does not have to abide by the 1st amendment. The Government sector however does. A little research tells one this and in my case, a friend who is a lawyer. " The First Amendment does not limit private employers. The Bill of Rights and the First Amendment limit only Government Actors. This means that private employers can restrict speech in the workplace without running afoul of the First Amendment" The same goes for Private platforms such as Twitter and Facebook. One example of Trump's lies is that he told the public that this virus wasn't as bad as it was early on. The taped interview for Woodward's book has him stating otherwise. Taped interview!

So I am guessing that you are the same person that keeps sending the anonymous ASKs because you are actually speaking and not being childish like the other attention seekers, and again, I greatly appreciate the maturity. So here is the deal, if you want to have a conversation, let's go. I would say DM me here...but tumblr has disabled my ability to send and read DM's, which by your logic they have the "right" right to do. Freedom of speech for some, not so much the others. So, my IG is pugzmantothethird, I can chat there, unless you are going to come with some third grade media blinded argument. If that is the case I have some suggestions for you, so stay tuned.

since you want to bring up chauvin again and the trial you watched, then I guess you saw the police chief admit that the knee was on the neck the whole time. I guess you saw the witness plead the fifth because he knew his answers would be danming for the prosecution. Or maybe hulu blocked that info, I don't know. Regardless here is the deal. if you think that was a "case" of "police brutality", you are wasting my (and your) time. Floyd was going to die that day. That was the plan. It was a FF organized and executed to trigger anger and division among the masses, bring in more socialistic controls, discredit cops and encourage the defunding of police across the country, and millions fell for it. Both Pelosi and his GF called him a sacrifice. Don't believe in FF's or that the gov is ran by luciferians that would do something like that? check this out, from April 19th to the beginning of may is a big season of worship in their calander that calls for sacrifices. What did we see almost every day during those days? and what have we NOT seen since the beginning of May?

the trump lie, man I thought you might come with something better than that but ok. on the surface, again, I will assume you have never served or worked in a manner where you had to keep a secret or play down something to keep people calm, I have. you saw what people did with toilet paper right? on the surface again, you fell for the media doing any and everything they can to try and discredit him, and cover the fact that time after time they get proven as failures as journalists. Go learn about Operation Mockingbird and know that yes, it is still happening. The media is slowly being exposed as propagandists for the deep state, and they know it.

The 1st A, I think we were somewhat saying the same thing, except for private businesses. I said that we are protected under it and officials are to protect those rights. yes, like you said, it protects us from the gov, which to me I was implying that from "everyone" i meant especially from the gov. But again, you are looking at the surface argument that is being presented by the media, and you showed that when you said trump was "whining" about being censored, and you try to say "Founding fathers couldn't have foreseen that". quick smackdown on that, pretty sure the majority of business back in 1776 were privately owned business so yeah they had something to site in on. But that is third grade shit. The bigger picture is that the traps have been set for big tech and they are in the teeth now. You think it was just about "censorship" when their plan was much bigger. Go study Joseph Goebbels and his tactics as Minister of Propaganda under Hitler. Open your eyes and you will see the exact same game being played right now. This is what they do not want you to see, and this is why the media is trying to run distraction. They want you small minded and short sighted because they want you to believe they are on "your side" right now. But it will not stop there and in the end, no one will be safe.

As for the suggestions, if you want to talk, I am up for it. But come out from behind the anonymous because I sure as hell am not going to report you or whatever you are afraid of. Worst case scenario, we disagree and go about our business. Best case scenario, you get freed from the matrix. But before you come with that surface bs argument, maybe just sit back quiet for a bit, open your eyes, forget EVERYTHING you thought was real, drop your biases, and watch. Some one brought you to this Great awakening fOr a reason my frienD.

[dameronology]

Jamie!! Idk if you're taking non valentine's requests rn and feel free to ignore if ur not but I just had a customer trigger my ptsd and need something to calm me down.... can I ask for hc's on how obi wan would help when you've had a panic attack at work? ILY!!!

customers can be the WORST and ilysm and i hope ur ok!! if u ever need a chat i am always here (also i know this isn’t relevant but i had some of the salt water taffy u sent me for dinner)

obi-wan is usually very mild mannered and calm but he would be ready to SWING at whoever upset you 

like he does not take well to people hurting his loved ones and i can see him having a strongly worded punch conversation with the person 

of course though his main focus would be on you and making sure you’re okay 

he’ll hold your hands in his and tell you to breathe

like breathe, sweetheart, breathe and i’m here, my love 

obi would talk you through it as well, reminding you that you’re safe with him and nothing will get to you 

he’ll also remind you that it’s okay to take time off of work if you need, bc mental health is so important and he won’t let you forget it 

when you’re home & safe, he’ll just turn his attention to looking after you

that means making your favourite dinner or ordering it in for you

and he’ll let you have free reign of his wardrobe bc his clothes are definitely the comfiest things ever and they smell like him, like faintly of his after shave, and they’re WARM

i can’t remember the word for star wars word for television (probably something dumb like holovision) but he’ll sit down with you and watch your favourite show to help you take your mind off of the day 

[mommymooze]

Big Girls, Big Hearts

The Golden Deer are devouring their lunch on a sunny fall afternoon. The conversation is lively as they are quite the boisterous bunch. Rumors are spreading about strange things happening in Remire Village. Everyone is working themselves into an anxious state about the perplexing rumors being overheard. Hilda decides it is time to lighten the conversation.

“You know, every year they hold a ball at the Academy. The students get the chance to get to know each other better in a more friendly environment and its sort of a reward for working so hard as well as a possible way to find future partners.” She grins widely.

“A ball?” you ask. “With dressing up and dancing? I’m a commoner. It’s only for nobles, right?”

Hilda scoffs. “No silly! It’s for everyone! Dancing and romancing!  Time to find love and intrigue, hugs and kisses.”

“Um, this is an optional event, right?” You ask nervously. You’ve never been to a ball. Never had to learn to dance. You would rather beat up 500 bandits than go to a single ball.

“Come on (y/n) . You are the bravest person I know. What’s so scary about a little dance? Getting to hold a special someone in your arms for a bit, maybe even a kiss in the moonlight…Ooooh so exciting!” Hilda clasps her hands together daydreaming wistfully.

“Maybe I can catch the plague by then.” You grumble at your empty plate in front of you.

“No! Don’t even think that. We are going to get you ready and dressed up and you will not believe how beautiful you will look.” Hilda stomps her foot at you.

“Yeah, like putting lipstick on a pig, but with fat swollen lips because I’m allergic to it.” You further groan.

“Pish Posh! We can accentuate your good qualities yet keep you comfortable. I may let you wear shoes with less than 3 inch heels even.” Hilda puts her finger on her chin plotting further ways of dressing you up.”

“Balls are for petite cute girls like you and Marianne. My arms are like tree trunks. I am bulgy and lumpy. Not a sweet and delicate flower such as yourself.” You moan on, hoping she gives up soon.

Hilda puts her hands on her hips. “Yes, I can be a delicate flower. I also wield an axe just like you. Those things are heavy and take strength to swing around. Yes, I will admit to having a few muscles. Not everyone wants a delicate maiden that falls over from the slightest breeze. Some want a good hunk of warm and loving body to squeeze them back until they can’t breathe. Everyone knows you are incredibly strong. Didn’t I hear about you carrying Dedue to the infirmary not that long ago? I bet Felix or Sylvain couldn’t do it at all, but you just whisked him up and hauled him across the monastery like he was a little kid and ran him up the stairs to the infirmary.”

You blush furiously. “What was I supposed to do? I walked into the greenhouse just as he slipped on the wet rocks and he was knocked out. I couldn’t just leave him there.” You are hiding your face in your hands, feeling incredibly embarrassed.

Hilda laughs. “(Y/n), We watched you carry him bridal style running to the infirmary. I heard that when he found out he blushed for a half hour straight.!”

You want to crawl under the table, settling for crossing your arms and burying your face in them.

Hilda tugs your arm, “We are hitting up the dressmaker in town. Gonna get you a killer dress, show off those muscular toned abs and legs, and get you set up for the night of your life.”

“Nightmare of my life more like.” You mumble to yourself.

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

The battle at Remire is terrifying. Thomas turns into a really creepy ghosty old guy. The Flame Emperor shows up being threatening. The worst part is the villagers. They are going crazy killing everything, even their own families. They didn’t know they are attacking their own loved ones, their own friends. The Deer try so hard to rescue as many villagers as possible. You work to subdue as many of the possessed ones you can. They are still someone’s family and hopefully the madness is temporary. When the battle is over you look at the village, not much is left of it. The smell of smoke and burnt everything is thick in the air, choking everyone, making their eyes burn.  Finally, after the cleanup is done and all the villagers are treated for injuries, it is time to head back to the monastery.

The Golden Deer are unusually quiet as they silently march back to the monastery. Even Hilda is quiet after what she had seen. Ignatz makes his way over to you as the group keeps walking back to the academy.

“You ok?” He softly whispers to you.

You take your sleeve and wipe the tears from your eyes. “Yeah, I just got a lot of smoke in my eyes there. Thanks.” You mumble back, hanging your head a bit lower than it was before.

It is a long walk back. Everyone finally makes it into the monastery gates and the group splits up, everyone going their own direction.

Claude takes you aside. “Are you going to be okay? I’d be happy to chat if you want to. The professor is a great listener too.” He says with a look of concern in his eyes.

You don’t know where your tears are coming from now. They haven’t stopped since you were in Remire village. You open your mouth but nothing comes out. Professor Byleth comes over and puts her arm around your shoulder, leading you to her room. She pulls out a tea set and prepares tea.

“You know I lost my parents in a fire. Watching the village burn brought the whole thing back.” You stare down into your teacup.

“I’m sorry.” Byleth responds. Her face is not extremely expressive, but you can tell she is being very sympathetic from her body language.

“Do you think I can talk to Seteth about helping them out some? Isn’t this something like what the church would do? It is so late in the year and many of them don’t have secure homes to live in.” You ask, the tears slowing.

“My father and I spent a lot of time at that village. That was where the church found us.  I will talk to him as well.” Byleth nods.

You return to your room to try to sleep after such a nightmarish week.

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

The next morning you check with Seteth about assisting the village. You find that he has already spoken with Captain Jeralt and Lady Rhea feels that this is an excellent idea. After a few days of gathering supplies and materials, a small caravan heads out to Remire. Professor Byleth, the Golden Deer, Shamir, Jeralt and all his former mercenaries who had been incorporated into battalions, Alois and some of the Knights of Seiros, and surprisingly, Dimitri and Dedue.

The town elders meet with your group, discussing their wants and needs. Repairs to the structures that are salvageable should begin quickly. Tasks are divided between those that are experts in certain areas assisted by warm bodies that can lift, move or hand things to others. Ignatz is working on a map of the to be reconstructed village. Since assistance has arrived so quickly, there are fewer residents that will be leaving for other towns, happily staying now that they have some support. Everyone has something they can do. Cutting trees, clearing branches, gathering wood and kindling, sifting through burnt houses for useful items that can be salvaged like utensils, plates, and tools. The young go with the old to fields gathering heather, reeds, and straw for thatching the roofs.

You start with gathering salvaged bricks together to repair buildings. Even Lysithia can carry a few bricks at a time, you tell her 30 are needed at this house, 15 needed here. A few Knights head off to a local riverbank for sand and water to make the mortar.  You clean and prepare the bricks, measure the materials and have someone stir the mortar mixture. Soon you find yourself up on a ladder with a full mortarboard spreading an even layer of the compound, then place a brick, lay more mortar between it and the next brick. Starting with the smaller repairs first there are now several restored residences that will keep the wind and weather out.

As the sun goes down, everyone gathers in the center of town around large cauldrons full of soup, together with fresh baked bread made by the residents from the supplies brought by the Academy volunteers. Many of the townspeople are crying thanking everyone for their help. The Knights certainly push that this is by the grace of the goddess and the church. Others are simply happy to help in any way they can.

You grab some soup and take a seat near Dimitri and Dedue. They greet you and welcome your presence.

“I am surprised by your bricklaying knowledge. I had no idea of your talents.” Dimitri smiles.

“My older brother was a bricklayer, I helped him out often when I was growing up. I can’t wait to get my hands on some hammers and nails once the brickwork is complete.” You grin. “I am surprised to find the two of you here.”

“Hey your Princeliness, Dedue, (Y/n). Mind if I join you?” Claude takes a seat next to you. “We really appreciate your help. We did not expect other houses to send anyone.”

“I am very interested to see firsthand the reconstruction after disasters such as this.” The prince says excitedly. “It is wonderous seeing everyone come together with a single mindset of rebuilding. Everyone is helping in so many different manners. The strong are carrying bricks and trees, cutting wood, lifting loads. The weaker are preparing food for everyone, gathering materials and completing more delicate work. I am amazed at how much has been accomplished in just a single day.”

“Agreed. Many hands make light work.” Dedue nods. “I am happy to lend my strength.”

“Both of you are certainly welcomed with open arms. There is plenty of heavy lifting to do.” Smiles Claude. “I hope we can replace a few homes before we leave. Talking with the elders, there are some families doubled up in the same house. At least if each family has their own place it would be much more pleasant making it through winter.”

“Another important thing is to provide these people support and comfort.” You softly speak. “Let them know there are others out here who care for you as your fellow man. I do not know any of these people, but I do know about losing things to disaster. People that had no idea who I was helped me, kept me going when my life was crushed by disaster. Now here I am, helping out someone else that I have no idea as to who they are. I just want to help them. I hope it keeps them going as well.”

Dedue nods and smiles. The two house leaders agree that this is a great learning experience for everyone. You take the empty dishes leaving them to chat amongst themselves and head over to Byleth who is sitting with her father and their former mercenaries.

“Byleth, Jeralt. I wanted to thank you personally for helping bring this together. It didn’t sit right with me leaving these people behind and in such a ruined state.” You say, a smile finally crossing your lips.

“If Seteth would have said one word about not helping with this I would have punched that ‘No’ right off of his face.” Jeralt laughs. Byleth smiles. “This is a great learning experience for everyone. I think all of the classes should complete a project like this. Hands on learning is the most practical. Even Lorenz is finding some hidden talents as a result of this experience. I think he has a greater respect for Leonie too. That girl can turn a pile of trash into 100 different useful things.”

After dinner there’s not enough light to work on building without making it dangerous. So you decide to knit a sock or two. That way you can talk to everyone and when you’re done, someone has a new pair of socks. Win-win! There is plenty of chatter to go around the campfires with everyone in the village telling interesting stories of its history, or funny residents who did silly things, famous village romances or deeds. They also share stories of when the Blade Breaker came to town to save or help them. Being in a village isn’t all peace and quiet. There were some exciting and spicy tales shared until the cobwebs filled everyone’s heads and it was time to sleep.

The next day is just as busy with more homes being made whole by the end of the day. Construction is started on two different houses. One for a larger family, one for a smaller. Everyone gives their all in some way or another. Gathering kindling, firewood, food, finding the animals that were scattered by the calamity. Suddenly Saturday morning arrives, the last day the group from Garreg Mach will stay for rebuilding. What a difference everyone has made! Every family in Remire has their own place to stay without having to share. There are a long row of stalls for wares in the new Marketplace. There is even a barn and stable to keep horses for the community. Firewood is stored to keep the homes warm. It is everything the smaller village needs to get them through the winter. There is a celebration in the village center and tears are shed. However, these are all tears of joy as new friendships have been forged and the feeling of a job well done can be left with the people. The march back to the monastery is full of high spirits and happy hearts.

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

Back at the monastery you look forward to a warm bath and sleeping in your own bed. Just as you’ve changed into your nightgown there is a knock on the door.

“Um, I was just about to go to sleep. Can we talk tomorrow?” you anxiously respond to the knock as you stand at the door.

“It’s just me.” Says Hilda. “Come on. We’ve got some girl talk to do.”

You roll your eyes as the chipper pink ponytailed girl comes bouncing in your dorm.

“You haven’t forgotten the ball now, have you?” She winks.

“Oh yeah, that.” You stammer. You kinda sorta did forget.

“Tomorrow we’re going to town and getting a dressmaker to take your measurements. I know exactly what you need to wear.” She bubbles out excitedly. “I think you would be adorable in yellow. I saw the most darling shimmery satin material that would make you look like a princess.”

“A muscular, big shouldered princess.” You whine.

“Girl, you have no idea how to work with what you have, and you have a lot going for you.” Hilda smirks. “Now, I’ve been thinking. I know that you can’t wear lipstick, but I was hoping you can do some lip gloss. It has different things that go into it. Some are even flavored. Have you ever tried any?”

“Um. No.” You shrug sheepishly.

“Great! Hold still now.” Hilda has you in her grip as she plunks you down in your chair and starts carefully applying some gloss to your lips.  “There. How is it?”

You mush your lips together. They aren’t tingling or stinging. They don’t feel like they are getting fat. She pulls your mirror from your dresser to show you your lips.

“They’re just shiny.” You say, looking confused.

“Shiny is healthy. Gloss makes your lips slippery. It’s really good for you in the winter. When the cold air hits them, they stay soft and won’t peel. Your lips are really pretty. They’ll be lined up around the building wanting to get a turn to kiss those cute shiny lips.” The pinkette grins.

“But this is a dance. Where is the kissing coming from? Do I have to? I’m so confused.” You plunk back down on your chair with a big frown.

“Listen and listen good. Pretty soon we’re going to graduate, everyone is going to go their own way and you’re my friend and I’m just trying to help you get the most out of life. The ball isn’t just a celebration for nobles. It’s a chance to get to know the other students better in a different environment, a casual and fun environment. So many people have met the love of their life at this very same Academy event! Who knows what will happen on that glorious evening? The magic is calling for you, I can hear it!”

You look at her like she has two heads.

“Come on! Loosen up! I told you I will get you through this. Let’s start with the dance lessons. If you are dancing with a guy, he’s supposed to lead. If you dance with a girl, then either of you can lead, just agree who is to lead before you start. So I am going to lead. That means you put your left hand on my shoulder on the same side, and put your right hand into my palm on the other.” She grabs your hand and waits for you to put the other on her shoulder. “Good. Now don’t stomp on my feet, you have socks on, so put your toes on mine so you can follow me. The lead person is going to take their right foot and step forward, since you are following, you take a step back on your left foot. You will be moving backwards mostly, so the lead person watches to make sure you don’t crash into anyone…” Hilda goes through the basics of the box step for the waltz. You don’t quite crush her toes, and just maybe you do get the hang of it a bit. She tells you to look at her face, don’t look down. Stop looking down. Looking down will mess you up. You crash and fall over on the bed laughing once and she makes you get up and try again.

“Enough for your first lesson. You did great.” Hilda smiles. “So tomorrow after breakfast, we hit the dress shop.”

You yawn, “Sure…” and wave as you see her out the door. You would have bad dreams about going to the ball and stomping on everyone’s feet, but you’re too tired to even do that and actually just have a good night’s rest.

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

After breakfast Hilda practically drags you to town.

“Maybe I should just wear pants.” You grumble.

“Come on, you would look so cute!” She giggles.

“Cute is a bunny or a baby chick. I feel more like a silly goose.” You whine.

She hauls you into the dressmakers where a tall redheaded woman with a lowcut red dress assists you. “Hello dahlings.” She greets you at the door. Hilda curtseys, so you do too.

“Madame Palmyre, I’ve brought you another beauty in need of a dress for the ball.” Hilda proclaims.

“Hmmm. Hmmmm. Well. Athena. Hmmmm. No, Artemis! With the shoulders of Atlas. Oooooh. Yes.” Madame coos and ahhs as she walks around you touching your shoulders, lifting your head, raising your arms. “We must measure, quickly!” and shuffles you to the back where you are hastily stripped to your undergarments.

Madame’s hands work at a fast pace. She’s put special strings around various parts of your body, writing numbers down. Hilda stands next to her and they chitter and chatter with each other for a while. You decide to put your clothes back on.

“Lovelies, I shall have it ready two days before the ball. She will be magnifique!” Madame Palmyre raises her right hand with a flourish and a wide smile.

Hilda drags you to the cobbler to see what sort of shoes would be best. You glance at the boots longingly.

“No. “The Goneril girl shakes her head. “Cute. Not clunky.”

“Hilda, I have feet shaped like a duck.” You groan.

“Come on, work with me.” Hilda finally finds the shoes she is looking for. “Check this out. There is almost no heel, the toe is rounded but the way it is made, it gives you room for your wider foot to be comfy. Still cute!”

You look at the shoes, then at your friend. “I know you know what you are doing. I am so clueless. Just promise me I won’t want to cut off my feet by the end of the ball and I will wear whatever you want me to.”

“Gotcha, fam!” Hilda smiles as she puts in the order. The cobbler takes your measurements and says they will be ready next Sunday.

Hilda takes you to the final store of the day, which is great because this is really getting confusing and exhausting and overwhelming.

“Hey Mattie!” Hilda greets the owner. “We’re here for lipgloss and earrings.”

“But I don’t have pierced ears.” You look at her puzzled.

Hilda grins. “You will.”

You are a brave girl in battle. You fight and punch bad guys in the face. Intentionally letting someone stab holes in your ears is a whole different story. You were brave when they created the first hole and stuck the earring through. But when they stabbed your other ear with the needle, the needle that kept getting bigger the more you looked at it, the tears were shooting out of your eyes like rain.

“It’s done, its done. You’re fine! Look! So pretty!” Hilda is patting you on the back showing you the mirror. Mattie gives instructions to turn the earrings frequently and keep them clean. They should be well healed by the time of the ball. She helps you pick out some mint and honey flavored lip gloss.

You feel exhausted and overwhelmed. Not even fresh treats from the bakery tempt you. You just want to go back and hide. And maybe punch out a Duscur bear. Do something more familiar and relaxing.

That night you can’t sleep well. You always sleep on your side and no matter how you crunched up or mauled your pillow it still hurt your ears. You are going to die from lack of sleep long before the night of the ball. That is a welcome end, you think to yourself.

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

The next morning, dark circles hang heavily below your sleep deprived eyes, you barely make it to class in time. Lysithia notices something different as soon as she comes into the room.

“Your ears are pierced. That is so cute! I’ve been thinking about it. I may do that too some day.” The white haired girl muses.

“Hey (Y/n), Lysithia! Look who has more holes in her head! Just kidding.” Claude says as he taps his own earring while looking at yours.

Hilda strolls into the classroom followed by Marianne. They come to sit beside you.

“My ears are killing me. You better take good notes. I am going to sleep through class.” You warn the mischievous pinkette.

“And you’ll be cute doing it too. Yes, sometimes beauty can be painful, but it will go away soon.” Hilda tries to reassure you.

“I wish I could use magic on it, but it might make your earrings stick to your ears.” Marianne comments looking at her hands.

You rest your hands on your books and your chin on your hands. Nothing is touching your ears and you fall asleep before Hanneman comes in and starts his lecture about crests.

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

The excitement surrounding the ball continues. Your stomach starts to twist in knots every time you hear the word “Ball”. You have your new shoes and Hilda makes you practice dancing in them and walking around your room in them so they are broken in enough to not hurt you on the night of the..you know.

Hilda drags you to town the Sunday before the ball to get a fitting for your dress. She’s being a real stinker, because she makes you wear a blindfold so you can’t see it.  It comes with a special bustier, lifting your bust to be plump like a partridge (Madame Palmyre’s words). You had no idea what a bustier is in the first place. They picked and primped on you for a few minutes and then took the dress away, letting you get back into your comfy clothes. It wasn’t too uncomfortable, but you certainly wouldn’t battle in the dress, you chuckle to yourself.

Hilda continues with dancing practice. Marianne joins so you can observe them dancing as well. Marianne, the best dancer in the Deer glides gracefully across the floor. You feel like you are stomping around like a moose with four left feet. You are getting better though, you hardly step on Hilda’s feet any longer.

Soon, too soon, the fateful day arrives. The ball is this evening. They have classes in the morning so that everyone can get ready or in your case, panic in the afternoon. You just know you have a fever, you’re sick to your stomach. You should go to the infirmary so they can pronounce you on the brink of death and give a written note excusing you from the…the thing.  Class finally ends, before you can escape, Hilda, Annette, and Dorothea grab you and physically take you to Hilda’s room for hairstyling and makeup. You try to excuse yourself because you forgot your lipgloss, but they are on to you and will not let you go. You have no idea how they can fit so many females in the same room and still have room to work on them all. You hope you can escape when getting lunch, but no, they are too evil and have lunch brought in for everyone.

“(Y/n), I have the perfect jewelry to match your look.” Hilda giggles. She holds up gold crescent moon earrings, bracelet, and a matching necklace. Many “oohs” and “ahhs” are heard from the others. The stones in the bracelet are perfect, they are a pale yellow and black, matching the colors of the dress. Hilda sends you off to your room with Annette and Dorothea to get you into your dress. The songstress shows you how to put on the sheer and dotted with gold sparkles thigh high stockings without ripping them, teaching you how to fasten them to the garter belt. They adjust the lacing of the bustier so that you can breathe easily and move, yet your bust is enhanced, which is quite embarrassing, but then you look over at Dorothea and she’s super enhanced and ready to spill over the top of hers any second. Finally they help you lift and pull the dress on. Soft yellow chiffon at the top, gathered under the bust into its empire waist. A black airy stretchy panel starts there and goes to the bottom of the dress, flaring out a bit. The front is just past your knees, the back a few inches above your ankles. It visually pulls your waist in. Dorothea has that perfect hourglass figure with a waist so tiny that you could almost enclose it with your hands. You have much more um, meat, around your waist, the muscles alone make you twice as wide as her, but with the black panel it flares so you really do look, dare you think it, feminine. You thought the slightly puffy sleeves would make your shoulders bigger, but they just give you more freedom of movement. This is the most comfortable and beautiful dress you have ever worn. Madame is a magician.

Dorothea nearly has tears in her eyes. “Our baby looks all grown up.” She sniffles.

“Wow.” Declares Annette. “I need to meet this seamstress. She really knows her stuff. Its like you’ve been magically transformed. If I didn’t know it was you under there (y/n) I would say it was a different person.

“Come on, you are going to make me cry.” You were emotional before, but seeing the whole outfit, you do feel like the princess Hilda wanted you to look like.

Suddenly it is time for everyone to head to the ball. Many of the women head off to meet their dates. Hilda and her date, Marianne, look adorable together. They have the same purple flowers in their hair and their dresses complement each other perfectly. They walk with you toward the sound of music playing. The students are filing into the large room for the dance, the variety of colors and styles are striking. Everyone looks so beautiful.

You wander over to where the Golden Deer have congregated on the side of the room. Raphael is wearing a shirt that fits across his chest, although his muscles in his arms still look like they are about to burst through the sleeves.

“Hey, (y/n). Glad to see ya. You sure look pretty.” Raphael grins. You take it as an amazing compliment, he usually only notices food.

Ignatz is nervously pulling at his collar. “I haven’t been to a Ball before. The monastery really went all out for this. The food, decorations, and presentation are a work of art.”

The house leaders are called to the front accompanied by Hilda, Hubert, and Mercedes. They perform a special dance together that includes changing partners. Of course, Claude has to ham it up by dipping Edelgard who is a bit shocked but recovers well from the unexpected move. The special dance ends and the surrounding students now fill the dance floor.

Leonie sits next to you with a plate of appetizers and sweets. “Go grab some food, (y/n). They have some amazing things on the banquet tables. I tried this gray stuff, it’s delicious.”

You quickly shake your head. “My stomach is so jittery. I’ll stick with apple juice.” You weakly smile as you take a sip.

Looking to the left, there is an anxious Lysithia trying to drag a dressed-up Cyril out to the dance floor. You laugh because he looks more nervous than you. Hilda has Marianne out on the floor, the couple gliding along smoothly like the floor is made of ice. Annette is smiling widely as Ashe is guiding her safely around the other couples. They look too cute.

“Ahem! (Y/n)” you suddenly hear a male standing next to you, breaking you from your trance.

You jump a little in your seat to see the Prince of Faerghus bowing low and asking you for a dance.

You stand up and stammer, “Oh, yes. Thank you.” You place your right hand into his left as he leads you among the dancing couples. Hilda’s dance practice pays off as you have yet to stomp on the Blue Lions leader’s feet or trip over your own. You chat about how happy he is having participated in the rebuilding of Remire and how some day he will rebuild Duscur as well. Just as the song ends, he bends closer to your ear.

“I think Dedue would like to have a dance with you as well. He is a bit shy, but if you wait patiently close by him he may gather enough courage to ask you, unless of course you ask him first.” Dimitri smiles as your face turns completely red.

You can feel the burn of the blush all the way to the back of your neck.  You curtsey as the song ends and he leaves to find another partner. You just happen to be close to where Dedue is standing, the tall man is against the wall, his hands behind his back, eyes flitting from couple to couple. You decide to stand not far from the Duscur male.

Watching the students dance, Claude pulls Professor Byleth out onto the floor. You laugh at the shocked look on her face. Balthus is dancing with Manuela. He has a grin from ear to ear as he twirls her around, making her laugh. Perhaps this is what everyone needs, to have a night to forget about their problems and issues going on and simply enjoy themselves, if just for a little while. You find yourself swaying with the music as you look over at Dedue who takes a step towards you.

“Are you enjoying the ball?” Dedue asks softly, smiling pleasantly.

“Yes. I was not looking forward to it, however now that I am here it is nice. It is good to see our friends simply being happy.“ You answer him. “Would you like to dance?”

Dedue bows, “It would be my honor.” He says, taking your hand in his.

He is so incredibly tall. The top of your head is well below his shoulders. You have to crane your neck to look into his face, but it is worth it to see his gentle smile.

The white haired man looks down at you, “You are small.”

You nod as you smile, trying not to laugh because compared Dedue, absolutely everyone is small.

Dedue continues, “You are very strong.”

You blush, mashing your forehead into his chest. This giant man just said you were strong.

He is not finished. “And cute.”

Your ears are burning because you are blushing so hard. You’ve never been cute before. You’re having a hard time looking into his eyes while you are blushing so hard, so you decide to focus your sight on his strong handsome chin. Breathe, don’t forget to breathe.

“You have many wonderful talents. Not only fighting and helping Dimitri.” You tell Dedue, daring to look in his eyes again. “In the village I was impressed by your construction skills. Your assistance helped us complete more buildings than we had originally planned. Thank you.”

You both smile at each other as you continue to dance for the rest of the song, as it ends, you curtsey, he bows.

Before you take one step toward exiting the dance floor, Claude mysteriously appears behind you, taking your right hand in his. He kisses the back of your hand.

“May I have this dance, my Deer?” Claude smiles widely at you.

“I cannot say no to our Leader-man. That would be against the rules. Not that you pay much attention to rules, Claude.” You laugh as you place your left hand upon his shoulder.

Dancing with Dimitri and Dedue had been proper and elegant. Their steps carefully measured, in perfect time with the music. Dancing with Claude is like holding on to a leaf in a whirlwind. You moved up, then down back then right then spun and twirled. One time he had spun you around you thought he was trying to fling you into the middle of the orchestra. You think it strange, then funny, then you begin to laugh. He twirls you away from him, then pulls you to twirl the opposite way around toward him, your chest lightly crashing into his as you laugh together.

His steps suddenly fall back in with the tempo of the music, you following. Your laughter calming, you gasp a bit as you are slightly out of breath, and dancing very closely with Claude. You feel his right arm around you, his fingers close to the center of your back, his chest is warm against you.

“Hilda told me that if I play my cards right that I might get to dance with a beautiful princess tonight.” Claude purrs softly in your ear. “I think I have a winner here.”

You blush profusely, trying to look away from his dazzling emerald eyes and failing. Claude’s grin is as wide as you have ever seen it. Suddenly the music concludes. The orchestra takes a brief break.

He bows and you curtsey back.

“Thank you, princess (y/n).” Claude Grins.

“Thank you, Duke von Riegan.” You smile.

Hilda runs up to drag Claude off to gossip about who knows what as you grab a seat and catch your breath. You will have to honestly thank Hilda for making you go to this. You catch your breath in the quiet during the orchestra’s break. Your heart has simmered down after beating at such an excited rate for so long.

You glance about the room. Looking left you see the orchestra has returned, preparing to begin, to your right you see two different redheaded gentlemen headed your direction. Oh my…

[ampmiscfiles]

To Us You’re Worth Everything: Chapter 11

Start from the beginning

Peter groaned as he opened his eyes and sat up. He looked around, taking in his surroundings. He was in a park, and he wasn't sure how he got there.

Stretching, he lifted his hand to scratch at his itchy cheek, meeting a crusty substance. Frowning, Peter picked at the dried substance on his face before pulling his hand away to look.

Peter felt the blood drain from his face as the dark red, almost black, flakes peaked out under his nails and on his fingertips. Following down from his hands, his arms were marked with dark streaks, some places thicker than others. His clothes were stained in blood, blood that clearly wasn't his.

Quickly, Peter lurched to the side, throwing up what he had had for supper.

What had happened?

Crawling away from the tree he was under and further into the bushes, Peter wrapped his arms around himself, panic seeping in.

He had no idea what was going on. He didn't remember anything after leaving the group home, but clearly something had happened.

Trying to calm his rising panic, Peter closed his eyes and let the sounds of the park wash over him. The cool breeze rustling the tree leaves. Children laughing on the distant playground. Dogs happily enjoying playing with their owners. Couples chatting happily as they walked the pathways.

It was nice, and Peter felt his heart rate slow.

Opening his eyes, he took a deep breath before fully analyzing his situation. He couldn't exactly exit the cover of the bushes looking like he did. There was no way a blood covered teenager would be ignored.

Looking around, Peter sighed in relief as he caught the strap of his bag buried in between the bushes. He grabbed it, pulling it out and brushing off the twigs and leaves. He started at the set of pajamas he had thrown into the bag when he changed. He knew he could swap out what he had on for them, but they were all he had. If he waited till nightfall, he could change and find a laundry mat. There was a good chance that he would be able to find some loose change by then, plus no one would be around to possibly catch a glimpse of what he was washing.

Releasing a sigh, he laid back on the soft grass, trying to remember anything from the night.

Whose blood was staining his skin and clothes? Why was it there? What happened to the person it belonged to? Had he tried to save someone and suffered a blow to the head? It would explain the lack of memory.

It was the only option he would allow himself to consider, because he wasn't sure he could handle it being anything else.

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

Tony pulled the cap further down his head and put on his sunglasses as he exited his car.

He was surprised to find himself looking at a rather public park. If the kid was trying to stay low-key, this was a risky place to be.

Holding up his phone, he began the trek toward the location of the tracker. He wasn't sure what he was going to find, if he really found anything at all. Peter could have ditched his bag at some point, or even managed to have found the tracker and took it out.

Praying for the best, he continued on.

His phone ringing temporarily removed the tracker location as Pepper's face filled the screen. Frowning, he answered her call.

"Hey Pep, I'm-"

"Tony!" Pepper shouted into the phone. "We have to find Peter! There's been an incident not far from the home. Another body, the worst of them so far."

Tony felt a cold dread seep into his bones.

"They found blood in the alley beside the home Tony. They think who ever killed the man, caught him there and then took him away. Tony.....that maniac could have Peter!"

Pepper's hysterical sobs filled the phone.

"Pep, Pep, listen to me!"

There was a sniffle on the other side of the line as Pepper tried to compose herself.

"Has anyone talked to the kids?"

"Tony! They're missing too!"

"Great." Tony huffed, running a hand down his face.

"Pepper, I want to you focus on finding Wanda and Pietro."

"But Peter-"

"I'm handling Peter. Just, just trust me here Pep. Let me do this."

There was silence then the shuffle of someone moving around.

"Ok Tony. I'll call the others and tell them to focus on the twins." she took a deep breath. "Please, find my son, Tony."

"Let me know when you have the kids." Tony said, disconnecting the line.

He stood in the middle of the sidewalk, the calm, sunny day a stark contrast to the feelings inside him. On his phone, the little light continued to blink and Tony prayed he was going to be happy with what he found.

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

Pietro looked at the building before him with wide eyes.

"You can't be serious."

"I am." Wanda said, eyes narrowed in determination. "We're going to make sure things go the way they need to."

Pietro huffed out a breath and ran his hand down his face before turning to her.

"We can't just walk in there, Wanda."

"We're not, but Kent and Kathy Matthews distant cousins are." she said casually.

"Now I know you're not being serious."

"I am. Now put on the rest of your outfit."

"Exactly what are you planning to do? This place is littered with cameras and, relatives or not, they're not going to let us see them. We don't even know if they're awake! They weren't exactly in the best of shape when they were brought in. Cl-those two random criminals did a work over on them."

"You forget," Wanda smirked. "I managed to get into the heads of the Avengers. I think I can handle things here."

"Again, the camera footage?" Pietro pushed.

"We'll collect it before we leave. No traces left behind."

"Ok, but what'd your goal here?"

Wanda paused, looking away from her brother and toward the building.

"We both know who's in that building, Pietro. They've mistreated him. Physical, mental and verbally abused him. I can't let them get off as easy as they're going to. Jail isn't good enough." she said, looking at him out the corner of her eye.

"I think you feel it too."

Pietro didn't respond for a moment, choosing to let her words sink in. She wasn't wrong. He didn't think a simple jail sentence, even if it was life, was good enough for all the damage they caused.

Squaring his shoulders, he took Wanda's hands and gave a squeeze.

"Yes, you're right. I think it might be a good idea for our cousins to do a little....reflection on their actions. Maybe try to picture themselves in their victim's shoes."

Wanda just returned the grin he flashed her.

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

Tony's anxiety spiked a little as he got closer to the location of the tracker. He was growing a little weary at the fact the signal hadn't moved at all since he locked on to it.

"Please let him be ok." Tony muttered, stopping where the tracker blinked.

Frowning, he looked around the area. Maybe Peter had ditched the tracker after all.

He had just about decided to continue on down the path when I slight shuffle from the bushes next to him caught his attention. Slowly, he made his way over, pushing aside the foliage.  

"Peter!"

Peter jumped, surprised by the shout as much as the fact someone had managed to sneak up on him. Rolling over, he stared wide-eyed into the equally wide-eyed face of Tony Stark.

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

Pepper ran her hand through her hair as she waited on Sam to return to the car. Her nerves were strung tight as images of what could have happened to Peter flew through her head.

She barely knew the boy, but she had immediately fallen in love with him.

How could anyone not?

It was so easy to see past the evidence of abuse to the sweet boy buried inside. They had already glimpsed him through interactions with Spider-Man.

Peter held Spider-Man in such high regard that it was as if he saw himself as two separate people. That Peter Parker and Spider-Man weren't the same person.

Maybe that had been how he was able to maintain his upbeat attitude, because he clearly didn't hold the Peter Parker side of himself in such a light.

Still, somewhere out there was a lonely kid in desperate need of help.

She couldn't think anything less.

She couldn't think he wasn't.

She looked over as Sam opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat.

"Here." he said, handing her an iced coffee. "How are you holding up?"

"Been better." she sighed.

"Well, I'm not about to help matters." Sam winced as Pepper turned her puffy eyed face towards him.

"The twins are missing."

"They're what?" Pepper yelled.

"Just got off the phone with Steve. The kids bailed and haven't been seen since. They've tried finding them, but no luck."

Pepper narrowed her eyes.

"You don't believe him."

"Oh, I believe Steve wants me to be believe they can't find them. I think the truth is they don't really want to."

"Why not? Peter is already missing, now they are to!"

Sam sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"He think they know, or at least Nat does, where they went."

"And I'm guessing she's not telling, nor is she going after them herself."

"She wouldn't let them go if she didn't think it was something they needed to do or they couldn't handle. I'm sure they're fine. Let's just focus on finding Peter for now."

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

"Well, I just got off the phone with Sam." Steve sighed, sitting down at the table next to Clint.

Peter's case file was once again spread out before them.

"Let me guess, he doesn't believe we don't know where they are."

"Well, we don't." Steve replied, motioning between Clint and himself. "She does."

The two looked over as Natasha typed away furiously on her laptop.

"Leave them be. They can handle their business. They'll be fine."

"You're not leaving us much of a choice." Clint huffed.

"What do you two know about the mysterious killer the police are chasing?"

Steve frowned as he shared a look with Clint before turning to Natasha.

"I know the police are mighty territorial about it. They're been very clear they don't want our involvement. I think its rather stupid considering the increase in attacks, manner of violence, and the fact there has been no real connection from one victim to the next-"

"Other than criminal history." Clint finished. "I may not approve of the guy's methods, but he's not exactly attacking the innocent here."

"Still, none of the other vigilantes in the city go that far-"

"Frank Castle and Deadpool-"

"Haven't been seen in the city in months. These attacks have only been happening the past two." Steve shot as Clint shrugged.

"Fine. So what's the point, Nat?" Clint asked, ignoring Steve's eye roll.

"Considering the Matthews, I decided to look into some of Peter's other foster families."

"And?"

"A few of them have joined the victims list."

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

"Ma'am, I afraid we can't just let you in to see the Matthews. They're in police custody. You would have to have permission to-"

"I'm sure it won't be a problem for us to have just a few moments with them." Wanda smiled, her eyes flashing red.

The man stood frozen and silent for a moment before a dopey smile crossed his face.

"Of course. I don't see why not. I might do them good to have some family chastisement."

"Thank you."

The twins followed behind the doctor, Wanda stretching her powers out to touch each person they passed. They couldn't afford for anyone to give fully accurate descriptions of them, even if they were disguised.

"Around the corner is the room they're located in. Just give the officer outside the room your names."

The two nodded towards the man as he shuffled off back the way he came.

"So far so good. Let's see your next trick." Pietro whispered into Wanda's ear.

"Prepare to have your socks knocked off." she smirked, leading the way.

As they approached the room, the officer stationed outside stood to face them.

"I suggest the two of you turn and leave. This couple is under arrest and police observation."

"We're their cousi-" Pietro started before being cut off.

"I don't care who you are. No one is getting through that door. I don't know how you made it this far, but I'm going to have security escort you-"

"Surely you understand our need to see family." Wanda smiled sweetly, her eyes flashing red.

The officer looked at the blankly before nodding with a smile.

"Please, go right in."

"Thank you."

"Wow. Those training sessions are really paying off." Pietro whispered in her ear as they entered the room and shut the door behind them.

"Nat is brutal." Wanda replied.

The two stopped talking as they took in the ghastly sight of Kathy and Kent Matthews. The damage Clint and Natasha had inflicted had been highly underrated by the officers and social worker that had taken Peter away.

"Well, is it wrong that I don't feel at all bad seeing them this way?" Pietro asked, stepping up to the foot of Kathy's bed.

"This will pale in comparison to what I'm about to do." Wanda said, eyes narrowed. "They're bodies have been pushed to the limit, but I'm going to break their minds."

Pietro watched as Wanda stepped in between the two beds.

"I want you both awake for this." she said lowly, raising her hands and touching their foreheads.

The Matthews gasped in both pain and shock as their eyes flew open and consciousness returned to them.

"Hello there." Pietro grinned, leaning down on Kathy's bed.

"Who the hell are you?" Kathy asked, voice raspy.

To her right, Kent looked at the two intruders, unable to speak as his mouth was to swollen.

"It doesn't matter who we are." Wanda hissed. "What matters, is that you understand the atrocities you've committed, and that you will admit to your actions."

"You're insane." Kathy's eyes narrowed. "We're not admitting anything. How did you even get in here?"

"Tsk tsk." Pietro frowned, shaking his head. "That's not what we wanted to hear."

"No, it isn't." Wanda glared.

"Get out!" Kathy rasped.

"Not without a little parting gift." Wanda smiled wickedly.

"I'm going to let your mind pick itself apart. Everything horrible thing you've done to someone, you're going to know what it's like. You're going to feel the pain you've caused. You'll be begging for mercy long before it's over. I hope it wrecks you."

Pietro watched as Wanda's finger tips swirled with red magic as she placed each of her hands on the forehead of Kathy and Kent.

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

"Kid, what happened?" Tony panicked, pushing to himself into Peter's hiding spot. "Are you ok? You're covered in blood!"

Peter couldn't speak as Tony frantically checked him over for any serious wounds.

"Jesus, kid." Tony sighed. "You had us all worried."

"H-how did you...."

"I put a tracker in your bag." Tony answered, no longer guilty for his actions.

"You put a tracker in my bag?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Pete, I know the signs of avoidance better than anyone. It was written all over your face and body language. You had no intention of facing what was coming your way." Tony said, still studying Peter for injuries.

He knew the boy healed fast, but some wounds healed faster than others. Pepper and the twins would be furious if Peter was returned without care.

"I...I can't..."

"Come on kid, let's go get you cleaned up."

"No." Peter said, pushing further back from the billionaire. "I'm not going with you."

"Pete," Tony sighed. "You have three of the most powerful and influential people in the world focused on you right now, how far do you think you'll get?"

Peter frowned, looking down at the grass.

"They need to focus on someone else." he sniffed.

"And who would that be?"

"Anyone but me."

Tony narrowed his eyes as Peter still refused to look at him.

"Kid, they're not the only ones looking for you. Your little stunt, as I'm sure you know, wasn't unnoticed. The home called the police. Your description is out there and they're looking for you. Where do you plan on going?"

Peter felt the uncomfortable sting of tears in his eyes.

"I thought so." Tony frowned. "Come on kid, let us help you."

"You can't!" Peter yelled, pushing away further. "You can't help me and you shouldn't help me! You're wasting your time, all of you! You'll take me back and wish you hadn't! Just leave me alone and you'll be better off."

Tony watched as silent tears slid down the boy's dirty face. In all his years, he couldn't say a child's tears had ever affected him as much as Peter's did.

"You can't disappoint them, Peter."

"You don't know me."

It was true. Tony didn't really know Peter. Hell, he didn't really know Spider-Man all the well. Sure, he had worked with him enough to get a bit attached to his upbeat attitude, but these past few days had thrown all he knew out the window.

Spider-Man and Peter Parker were both the same person, and yet not. Peter had worked hard to give them a distinction. It was a little concerning.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Tony finally crossed, what he was positive was, the last line.

"Look, Peter. You're soulmates with Wanda and Pietro, and they love you already. Pepper was ready to adopt you the moment we learned about your situation. As soon as she does, and she will, that makes you my son and I protect what's mine. So, we can do this one of two ways."

Peter finally looked up at Tony's words, a feeling of dread creeping up his spine at the tone.

"One, you come with me willingly. Two.......I put you in a suit and take you back by force."

Peter froze.

He couldn't be serious.

A long look at Tony's face told him he was.

Peter's thoughts whirled inside him. He wanted to feel anger. Anger at Tony for tracking him. Anger at Tony for threatening him. Anger at Pepper wanting to adopt him.

Anger and Wanda and Pietro for being their soulmate.

He was supposed to age out of the foster system and be on his own. Never find his soulmate or mates.

Never hurt them.

Never cause them sorrow.

That's all Peter Parker was good for anyway.

There was only one choice.

Forgoing his bag, Peter darted out of his hiding place. He was small and fast. There was no way Tony would be able to catch him. He would just have to keep running until he couldn't anymore.

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

"Wow. These are brutal." Clint winced as he looked over the crime scene photos of Peter's former fosters.

"They're some of the worst." Natasha nodded with a frown.

"The Matthews were pretty nasty." Steve frowned. "Maybe they were worse."

"Or maybe the Matthews just got lucky enough to be victims of a break-in instead of this guy." Clint replied, completely unphased by his mentioning of the strange event surround the Matthews.

"Should we look into them?" Steve asked, crossing his arms.

"Normally I'd say yes," Natasha shrugged. "But I could really care less at this point. Whatever they did, they paid for it. Looking into them won't change anything now."

"This guy is all over the city." Clint whistled. "I mean, the killings have no pattern to place. The only links are criminals and the fact they all happen at night."

"Does anyone know if Peter was looking into this?"

Natasha and Clint both paused.

"I mean, he's on the streets every night as Spider-Man. I can't see him ignoring it."

"He's not the only vigilante out there, though." Natasha replied, leaning back in her chair. "Maybe they all are."

"I know that look." Clint huffed. "Who's at the top of your list?"

"There was an attack in Hell's Kitchen not to long ago. I can't imagine the Devil of Hell's Kitchen isn't investigating."

"Does Spider-Man know him?"

Natasha shrugged at Steve's question.

"Spider-Man has been seen talking to him once or twice. Just how well they know each other is unclear."

"Why are we asking this again? I'm pretty sure local law enforcement doesn't want us 'intruding on their territory'." Clint scoffed.

"The Matthews are about to be involved in a high profile crime case." Steve said, looking up at the ceiling. "If the guy doesn't already know about them, he will soon."

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

Tony sighed as Peter darted out the bushes. He had really hoped the kid would come along willingly.

"FRI, launch the suit."

Back at Tony's car, the emergency suit engaged.

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

Peter had a brief ting of his Spider Sense before he found himself enclosed in, what he knew, was an Iron Man suit.

Tony hadn't been lying.

"Let me out!" he screamed, watching as the ground got further and further away.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Peter." FRIDAY's calm voice filled his ears.

"Releasing you from the suit would cause you serious injuries from your fall."

"This is kidnapping!" Peter shouted, desperate to reason with the AI.

"Technically it's a rescue." Tony's voice came through the speakers. "You're a runaway kid. I'm rescuing you from the streets and possible danger."

"I didn't ask you to!"

"I'm going to anyway."

As he tried to decide if the risk of breaking out of the speeding suit was worth it, a thought struck him.

The voice of anger that had rose up in him, was silent.

The time the voice should have been the loudest, and there was nothing.

He didn't know what to think of it.

"Trust me kid. You may not think it now, but you're going to thank me later."

Peter didn't reply.

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

Pepper snatched up her phone as it buzzed in the console.

Sam watched as she fumbled to turn it on to see the message.

/I've got him. I'm taking him to the compound. He's escaped from one home, he'll escape another./

A tear slipped down her cheek as she quickly sent a reply.

"Please tell me it's good news." Sam said, looking at her hopefully.

"Tony found him. He's taking him back to the compound."

"Well, I guess we should go alert the cops and the home."

Pepper nodded, putting the car in drive.

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

“Incoming call from Boss.”

“Patch him through FRIDAY.” Steve replied.

“I have a special package in the way. Make sure you secure it when it gets there. I’m about 10 minutes behind it.”

“Package? You order us something special, Tony?” Clint smirked.

“If you consider the insecure, disgruntled, wonder twins teen soulmate ‘special’, then yes.”

“What do you mean ‘10 minutes behind’?” Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow at Clint and Steve.

“He’s in the suit. Kid tried to run again. Hence the ‘secure it’ warning.”

“You put the kid in a suit?” Steve groaned. “Tony...”

“No choice Cap. You'll see when why when he shows up. I'll be there shortly."

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose as the line went dead.

"Well, come on boys. Let's go greet our little Spider-Baby." Natasha smirked.

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

Peter felt his nerves spike as the compound came into view. He knew as soon the suit landed that would be it for anymore escape attempts.

He most likely wouldn't be allowed out of anyone's sight any time soon.

"Your vitals are concerning, Peter. If they continue in this fashion, I will have to alert Boss of your distress."

Distress!

Of course he was in distress!

This was the last thing he wanted. He wasn't supposed to come back to the compound. He wasn't ever supposed to see any of the Avengers again! Spider-Man was supposed to leave New York. Branch out somewhere new. Maybe even become an entirely new vigilante even!

It had been a small thought in his mind for a while. He loved being Spider-Man. It was the only good part about him anymore. Spider-Man was useful and, for the most part, people loved him.

Spider-Man was everything Peter Parker was not.

Spider-Man was also easy to track. If he left New York, word of him showing up somewhere else would spread quickly, and no doubt the Avengers would be on his doorstep before he could blink.

No, Spider-Man would have to take a break and let a new hero step in for a bit.

It was sad, but also ok. It didn't matter what suit he wore, he was still Spider-Man regardless.

That, however, was quickly becoming a distant option.

He would be trapped with the Avengers, with his soulmates. There would be no way to hide all the things wrong with him.

They would learn quickly that he just wasn't meant to be loved anymore. He lost that right when May died.

When May died, he learned he should have been left alone.

"Prepare for landing, Peter. I have alerted those at the compound of your condition since Boss hasn't arrived yet."

Tony wasn't there?

Peter wasn't sure why that bothered him. The man had only betrayed his trust over and over, there was no reason to care anything about him.

Immediately, Peter felt the guilt creep up on him.

This was exactly part of his problem. Tony had done what he had to, and Peter was being his normal, ungrateful self.

This was why he didn't deserve kindness. This was why when someone did show a hint of care, Peter knew they were wasting their time and would ultimately be disappointed in him.

There was a jolt as the suit landed and a brief moment before the pieces separated, revealing him to Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, and Clint Barton.

"Welcome back little spider." Natasha smiled

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

Wanda leaned against the car as she waited for Pietro to round up the security tapes. She felt confident in the knowledge that, when they awoke, Kent and Kathy Matthews would be screaming their guilt.

With any luck, they'd never spend another night without the nightmares of what they saw.

"Got them." Pietro grinned, holding up the tapes as he stopped next to her.

"Good." Wanda smirked. "Maybe we won't be in quite as much trouble."

"Oh, we'll definitely be in trouble. Still, if ends in them paying for what they've done, I'll gladly take whatever punishment we're given."

Wanda nodded in agreement as she pulled out the keys to the car.

"No way!" Pietro said, snatching them from her hand.

"You almost killed us on the way here. I'm driving back. I want to be able to see Peter again."

Wanda puffed out her cheeks in frustration.

"My driving is perfectly fine and I want to see Peter too!"

"Then get in the car. I'll deliver us safely back to the compound."

"Whatever." she huffed, grumpily getting into the passenger seat and crossing her arms.

[queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm]

Ok here me out, Marinette Project runway winner

This is for @ozmav @mindfulmagics @maribat-archive @realrandomposts for inspiring me to do this even though I’m probably annoying you people.

She moved to Gotham after defeating Hawkmoth to study abroad

During this time she begins her time on Project runway

Even after having commissioned her work to celebrities such as Clara Nightingale and Jagged Stone she is out in the bottom 3 in 2 occasions

This causes her to work even harder to win

Marinette creates looks based off of Ladybug, the miraculous team, and the heroes of Gotham (Chat’s Miraculous was taken long ago, before defeating Hawkmoth)

Her Robin look was the one that made her the win (it was a simple, but elegant black blazer with a small robin embroidered on the right breast pocket, a white-based shirt with prints that resembled a bird making its nest, black slacks, and brown dress shoes).

The judges loved her craftsmanship, “You have magic in the tips of your fingers!”

“The embroidery is so detailed, how did you have time for that?”

“I love it! Marinette Dupain-Cheng you are Project Runway’s 20XX’s winner!”

*Cue Marinette being so happy she burst into tears*

After this, she begins working on building her brand. She began shipping her clothes internationally. Her work becomes huge in Asia and blows up, K-pop and C-pop idols love her. BTS was once caught using her clothes as airport fashion. Jackson Wang and BOYSTORY are always wearing her clothes.

Because of this Marinette’s celebrity clientele, just became a heck of a lot bigger.

Jagged now brags about her work at every red carpet event he goes to (if he didn’t already).

“Jagged, please. Jagged no. Jagged why?”

Clara does the same, but not to Jagged’s extreme.

Marinette is constantly embarrassed by this and try’s her best to give credit to the other contestants she met on the show. They all loved her and were as happy as they could be when she won.

All of this leads to Jagged introducing Marinette to Bruce Wayne.

“I hear you’ve been Jagged’s exclusive designer since you were fourteen? That’s impressive.”

Marinette waves it off, “I was just trying to help a friend.”

“I was wondering if I could commission you to create mine and my sons’ next charity gala suits. I’ve seen your work and it is very practical, most of the designers sacrifice functionality and practicality for aesthetic. But you seem to know that there is more to it then looking nice, your work seems to be able to be on the go as well.”

Of course, Marinette agrees, “Y-Yes! I would love to!”

This leads to a later fitting session at the Wayne Manor to get their measurements.

“Ah, Ms. Dupain-Cheng, you’re early,” Alfred points out while Marinette waits for entry.

Alfred allowed for her to get inside after a moment.

“On time is late and early is on time, Mr?”

“Pennyworth, but you may call me Alfred. That is exactly what I always say, Madame.”

“Well, in that case, you can just call me Marinette.” She smiles at the well-seasoned gentleman.

The well-mannered man shows Marinette to the living area to wait on Bruce and his sons.

What she wasn’t expecting was for two men to come barreling down the stairs, locked in combat over a trivial subject. “Take it back, Todd!”

“Not a chance, Demon Spawn!”

“I’ll break every bone in your body so badly, that not even the Lazarus pits could undo the damage caused!”

“When you say things like that, you just prove my point!!”

Marinette silently watched as the two continued their squabble. ‘What’s a Lazarus pit? I’ll have to ask Master Fu.’ (After defeating Hawkmoth, Master Fu retrieved Tiki. But that didn’t stop her guardian training.)

Eventually, the two boys got physical and Marinette decided it was time to intervene.

“Say it AGAIN!”

“You are JUST like your grandfather! You bra-”

“Umm, excuse me... Who are you two?”

The two stop to see a small, French woman physically keeping the two apart. The boys look completely gobsmacked.

“The better question is who are you?”

“I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I’m here to get Bruce Wayne and his sons’ measurements for a piece he commissioned me to do. I’m a designer,” She said smiling, extending her hand.

Jason takes it before Damian, “I’m Jason Todd-Wayne, nice to meet you.”

Damian scowls, “How polite of you...” he murmured to himself.

Marinette looks to the boy who has yet to introduce himself, “And you are?”

Both Damian and Jason’s jaws dropped, she really didn't know who they were. She was in their house for Pete’s sake, “I’m Damian Wayne.” Damian took her hand and gave it a kiss for added effect.

“Show off,” could be heard from Jason’s direction.

Marinette didn’t care for what the peanut gallery had to say, she was bright red after Damian did that.

At this moment, Dick, Tim, and Bruce walked in at the same time.

“Ms. Dupain-Cheng, you’re early,” Bruce said walking to greet her.

“I didn’t want for you to wait for me, also you can just call me Marinette. It feels weird when someone older and with a much more esteemed reputation calls me Miss.”

Once she finished speaking, Tim basically ran to her at the speed of light. The Flash, who?

See all the boys enjoyed Jagged’s music, but Tim, Tim was the grade A fanboy that everybody at least knows of. He’s watched every interview, heard every song, bought every album, poster, t-shirt, and every bit of merch he could get his hands on.

Needless to say after all the praise, Jagged gives to his personal designer, Tim knows exactly who she is.

“It is an honor to meet you Ms. Dupain-Cheng, I am Tim Drake-Wayne. I’m a big fan of your work.”

“You like fashion, Timmy?”

“I’m interested, sure, but Ms. Dupain-Cheng has done work for Jagged Stone. Since. She. Was. Fourteen. Her work has won awards since she was fourteen!” Tim said, disgusted by his brothers’ not knowing who she is.

“Please, it was completely by chance I met Jagged. Plus, I wasn't the only designer he’s ever had.” Marinette tried to take the attention off of her achievements.

“You just the only one who has made Jagged look like something other than an eggplant. I love the guy’s music, but his outfits before you... they looked cheap.”

Dick moved to speak, “It’s true, looking back at his old ensembles, there was a dramatic shift in craftsmanship. I’m Richard Grayson-Wayne, but you can call me Dick.”

Marinette’s face rivaled her old Ladybug costume. “Please, it was nothing. I made a million mistakes when I was designing back then. Anyway, let’s talk about what’s happening today. Your measurements for your suits. I assume Mr. Wayne has more important things to do after this.”

This got the boys to get down to business (to defeat the Huns) and shapes up real quick at the sound of her “serious” voice. The same one she used to use when Chat Noir used to flirt in the middle of an attack.

She when in order of oldest to youngest. Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim, were all done. Damian had been waiting patiently for his turn, watching her work. 

Marinette had this habit of sticking her tongue out whenever she was hyper-focused, Damian found this endearing. While she was getting his measurements, he was staring hard. This did not go unnoticed by the Batfam. 

After she’s finished, it’s kinda late. Alfred invites her for dinner and Marinette graciously agrees. Marinette helps prepare the dessert, Alfred repeatedly told her she didn’t have to, but she insisted. 

During dinner, the Batfam began to ask about her personal life, “So, are you seeing anyone?” 

“Master Dick, that is not appropriate to ask a young lady!”

Marinette almost chokes at the question, “That’s... um... I just got out of a controlling relationship. I... um... really don’t feel like talking about it.”

Adrien had done a number on her mentally, once he discovered she was Ladybug he wanted her and him to get together immediately. She agreed after some time, but Adrien was always pushy. He always pressured her into doing something that she wasn’t comfortable doing.  One day she had enough, she told him that she was done. Let’s just say that didn’t go over well. Marinette shifted in her seat as she recalls that night.

Damian seems to notice this and tells her that she doesn’t have to say anything if she doesn’t want to, Marinette appreciates this and thanks him. 

Quickly Marinette switches the topic, “I really like that Gotham has heroes, that protect the city. They make me feel safe like I'm back in Paris.”

This gets all the boys’ attention, Bruce asks her why.

“In Paris, there were heroes to protect them from a magical terrorist, named Hawkmoth. He possessed people who were at their worst and turned them into these things called, Akumas. Ladybug and Chat Noir were the heroes. After he was defeated, Ladybug and Chat Noir retired.”

Damian was baffled by how the league did not know about this, “Why haven’t we heard about this?”

“Mayor Bourgeois kept everything quite to keep tourism flowing, but if you really want to know about it there’s a blog. Be careful though not everything on there is reliable.”

Tim makes a mental note to check it out later. 

By the end of the meal and time to go home, all members of the Batfam+Alfred give and get Marinette’s personal contact info. 

They gained a friend and a new designer. 

Let me know if you want more because then and only then will I do more. This is my first time posting my writing, so please be nice. Thank you for taking the time to read it though! :)

Edit: here’s the ao3 link https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fworks%2F20572886&t=MGFkNWY5ZDVjOTcwNmIyOTU3YjM0OGQwOTc1YTU5MWZkNDlkNzliYSwwZjg5ZTA1ODIyY2M5MGUyNWYxY2YyMzYyZTY3ZjY2NmNjNzIwMDg5