#right now my players are in a very dangerous position so there's a chance that Mel has to disappear or take another identity for a while

[luposlipaphobya]

"I could live as Augusto for a while. Have you ever met him? Everybody loves him! You'll love him too." "I'd rather have Melisande." "Well, let's enjoy Melisande while he's still around."

Melisande (@the-nothing-maker's character) and Lazuli (my npc) finally had the guts to flirt a little during our dnd game.

[hipsdofangirl]

my SVT bias line as HOCKEY PLAYERS

general + romantic headcanons

genre: college au!, hockey au!, some hockey lingo that may be wrong, subtle innuendos but nothing explicit, lowercase intended

note: always after i go to my college’s hockey games i want to write something… also not proofread as always cause i just got back from a game to sit down and write this for an hour straight... PLEASE comment your thoughts cause i need more people to talk to about this

general information:

the svt hockey team can play in any lines, but they prefer their units they dubbed themselves! this is what makes them so dangerous…

yoon jeonghan (04; position: right winger)

very fast but normally has no stamina, causing early line changes. they usually throw him toward the end of the periods to spark fear into the opposing team.

his signature move is flicking the puck to and fro in front of his opponent only to swipe it under his legs.

he loathes getting shoved but he plays it up so his team gets more angry (they always fall for it).

has best lettuce (slang for hair and this shocked me to my core learning about this)

subtly goes offsides and it’s a 50/50 chance of him getting caught.

he is not the type to pick fights but sometimes feels left out when they occur. one time, the other 3 were butting heads with the other team after a shot and he just stood there with an opposing player and just lightly grabbed his stick; the player tried tugging it back but jeonghan would not let go.

normally, after a fight he is immediately with his teammates and checking for any injuries and hearing them complain about the other team. if they are injured, oh boy watch out.

romantic

during warmups before the game, he purposely shoots with force and towards your direction. you can always spot a little smirk (and a giggle which mingyu side eyes him for) whenever you flinch in response

whenever he scores and his teammates hug him, right after he scans the crowd for you. once he spots you, he does his signature ‘click’ noise and salutes you (sometimes you blow a kiss and he dramatically is taken aback).

when he had his injury that took him to out of play for a month, he would always sit beside you, arm resting on your seat. whenever his team would score a goal, a smile donned his face as he clapped; you on the other hand, always stand up and high five the people around you, his face seems to bloom when he watches you with love.

obviously you receive his jersey and he adores you when you wear it. when he first gave it to you, in your apartment, he had to indulge in his free will and squish your cheeks before planting many light kisses.

when you were mad at him, you wore joshua’s jersey. he was not amused for too long as his name wasn’t the only way to claim you.

xu minghao (08; position: left winger)

exchange player

he is the one with the least amount of broken sticks in his usual line up

along with jeonghan he is one of the fastest but has better stamina. he is also agile and flexible, causing opponents to hate going one-on-one with him; he does that meticulous side by side movement but the final one he leans his body to the avoid crashing into the plexiglass (his opponent doesn’t avoid this fate).

toward the start of his second year playing, the coach told him to tone down his anger, so the rest of the year he wasn’t very aggressive, losing points and vigor till hoshi had to have a talk.

now? once second period rolls around and the vibes are set, he will RUIN them. not with physical fights but his ‘light-taps’ with his shoulder and stick seem to blur the line of being a penalty.

romantic

after the whistle has been blown to perform another puck drop in their zone, minghao will always look to you and tap his stick onto the ice.

whenever you get the courage to create a sign, he will read it but then won’t indulge in your schemes; however, when he faces the other way a smile seems to shine through the face shield.

now when HE had his injury, he would also sit next to you. it was awkward when his injuries overlapped with jeonghan’s as you all sat next to each other to cheer. when it was break time and the screens in the middle points to a new ‘____ cam’, jeonghan would look over at him leading minghao to sigh and gave a brief glare to the man. jeonghan would purposely flag down the cameraman and point towards you two. have fun under new situations (kiss cam, dance cam, cowbell cam, you name it).

he wants to teach you how to play or at least how to successfully hit the puck. he desires to indulge in both of your hobbies for a closer connection; even if you can’t skate or is not accessible, he will find a skate park where you two can hit a ball with hockey sticks while complaining about your latest group project.

if the ice is accessible, he will teach you how to skate…oh? you already know how to skate? no, you don’t; he will correct your form or tease you, allowing himself to be barely out of reach as you stretch your hands to lovingly strangle him.

unlike the others on the team, he never asked you to wear his jersey. instead, whenever he visited or you did, he would ‘forget’ or ‘misplace’ his jersey around you and sometimes overnight. he wanted YOU to ask if you could wear it; call it self-consciousness or call it pride, he wanted you to take this step. of course, you always noticed and knew where it was; and of course, one time he happened to catch up trying it on in the spur of the moment. and of course he had to see it off too…

lee seokmin (81; position: center)

originally played baseball as a kid till he fell in love with watching his sister ice skate.

didn’t think he would actually join the college team but he immediately vibed well with the other players.

somehow on the official roster they spelled his name wrong?? who is dokyeom??

at first, he was scared of boarding people or engaging in fights; however, after watching mingyu and wonwoo tag team someone after the pushed woozi out of the goal, he accepted his anger.

the first time he showed aggression was during an argument he had with mingyu: he slammed his bag on the locker room floor and the silence was so loud that everyone teases him about it to this day.

unlike some of his teammates, he continues to occasionally fight; when a fist goes flying and knocks his helmet off, it’s hard to miss that rare dark look (only reserved for some moments you aren’t naive to) before he winds back to tackle the assailant.

ANYWAYS since he is one of the centers, the other members hold amounts of trust for him as he never fails to lighten the mood. with random words that become pregame cheering phrases, or with a jaw-dropping goal that flew just over the shoulder and into the net. even when he barely misses, his teammates will no doubt have his pack and flick it in.

during warmups, he loves ‘missing’ the goal and miraculously a kid gets the puck.

romantic

always looks forward to what sign you created in the crowd and secretly hopes it’s his number written on there.

when the rink has open ice skating, he loves taking you on there. bonus points if you suck cause you know he will hold your hands the whole time (even if you don’t really suck and you are pretending) and beam at you with the prettiest smile and shining eyes.

after games, he WILL ride the bus with you back to your apartment. when you ask how he is going to get back to his place, as the closest bus line doesn’t go that way, he somehow is passed out in your bed: snuggled under your weighted blanket and hugging your plush squishmallow (he eventually abandons it for you when you give in hmm it’s like he was never asleep…you feel bad when you wake up and look over on the floor to see the abandoned mallow’s beady black eyes staring into you).

it’s a little tradition and mini competition between you two to see who can leave the most notes of encouragement for one another! he came so close to crying—when you first started this trend—by placing 7 blue sticky notes littered with words of affirmation and doodles: located on top of his hockey stick, inside his gloves, top of the inside of his helmet, in the side pocket where he holds his water bottle, and on both of his skates.

please please please wear his jersey!!! his mood will sour when you don’t. even if it’s dirty and smells and someone spilled beer on it—don’t worry!! seokmin will give you another one which leads to his coach wondering why he has no jersey (or one that reeks with beer).

[futbol16]

Nothing is Going Well  • England Lionesses

Requests:  im sooooo loving the keira leah and georgia trio 😍😍😍😍 could I request a oneshot where the three have grown into Y/N’s older sisters and best friends. In their next game Y/N gets left bloody like Melanie Leupolz during the Chelsea match. Except this time the three see that the injury is much worse as Y/N is unresponsive, their favorite player who was happily playing with them 20 minutes ago now in danger

could you write something with leah keira and georgia being like big sisters to R? and like teasing her but also being very protective of her? thank you love your works

Word count: 4k

“GEE!!” a shriek accompanied by loud giggles echo through the corridors of the stadium and many of your teammates look back at the source of the sound. You’re running past Alex, a cookie in your hand and giggling like a maniac as you attempt to run away from Georgia who is chasing you.

“GIMME BACK MY COOKIE!” her booming voice only makes you throw your head back as you swerve in and out through the line of teammates filing into the stadium’s changing room. Georgia can’t help it anymore as she also breaks out in fits of giggles, her arms outstretched towards you as you just manage to slip away from her. 

The girls amusedly watch the two of you running around and they chuckle as you slip and fall on your bottom, Georgia crashing onto the ground too. You let out a loud groan as Georgia snatches the cookie back from you and in the same move she shoves the whole thing in her mouth. 

“Crackheads, those two, absolute crackheads.” Leah points to behind her as she grins at the camera, shooting it a cheeky wink that makes the cameraman laugh as he captures the England Lionesses arriving at the Brentford Community Stadium.

Georgia sticks her tongue out at you and you pout at her silliness, arms crossing over your chest. The brunette in front of you laughs at you and you look to the redhead approaching for help.

“Kie, Gee is being mean!”

“AM NOT!” she protests as Keira pulls you off the ground before throwing an arm around your shoulders. 

“Let’s go girls. Warm ups start soon.” she nods towards the changing room where most of your teammates are waiting and Georgia ruffles your hair before skipping off. You grumble as you try to fix your hair but Keira poking at your cheek makes you look at her. Upon doing so you’re met with a cookie in your face and a cheeky smile on her face as you take it from her. 

“Shh, don’t tell Gee” she winks at you and you hug her waist as the two of you enter the changing room, your mouth full.

Leah, Keira and Georgia have become your best mates in the England camps and you cherished your friendship with them very much. You were much younger than the other three, standing at a rough 19 years of age and they instantly took you under their wings when you made your debut for the national team earlier this year. The trio had unofficially adopted you as their younger sister which they had been teased for by the other girls but they would only smile at their words as they’d pull you into their side and ruffle your hair, saying something about how you were ‘the team baby’. 

 All four of you played in different positions with Leah all the way back in defense, Kei and Georgia as the midfielders and you upfront as a forward. You had only recently made a name for yourself but it didn’t take long for you to become a fan favorite.

You grew up playing for Arsenal’s youth teams and despite being moved to the first team a year ago, you hadn’t had the chance to show just how good you were. The tragic injuries of Mead and Miedema had forced Jonas to experiment with his other players though, giving you, Frida, and Stina more game time, which had proved to be the right decision. Within two months you went from a last minute substitute to a constant starter and being recognized as the young star of the Reds. 

Leah had watched you excel on the field since your very first few minutes of your debut and she felt immense pride when you got your first start. She’s still in absolute awe of your talent every time you step on the field and she has kept you close to her at Arsenal too. She was one of your favorite people and you had even been on vacation with her family. Her mother often jokes that you’ve officially become a Williamson. 

Jonas knew that if it weren’t for ‘the main force at the front’ - referring to the team’s three goalscorers - he wouldn’t know what to do since Arsenal had been cursed with so many injuries. Similarly to your debut for the reds, you got your debut for the England Lionesses because of the number of injured players as well. 

Sarina had kept an eye on you all of last season and as an Arsenal fan herself she was excited to see what you would bring to the team. She had instantly put you in the starting line up, which was shocking to not only the fans but you as well. Nonetheless, you didn’t disappoint as you served two assists in the same match and then being named the player of the match. You only got better after and it was a no brainer for Sarina to have you play in the final of the Finalissima. 

Your journey had only just begun and you were already suspected to be a future Ballon D’or winner. Keira loved to remind you of this and since joining Barca she has frequently brought your name up to Alexia Putellas. When she first mentioned your name Alexia had confirmed that she knew about you and would love to meet you, gaining you a face time that Kei had arranged with one of your idols. 

You stand by the sidelines with Leah behind you, her arms around your shoulders as the two of you watch the girls start warming up. Your fingers curl around the blonde’s forearms as you lean back into her, finding safety in her arms. 

“You ready for this game?” she leans down to whisper to you and your eyes scan over the Australian players as you nod.

“Yeah” you pause as you spot Steph waving at the two of you and you wave back at her with a wide smile. You loved Steph and you had great chemistry on the field. “I’ve never played Australia before.” 

Leah tightens her hold on you as she presses a kiss to the top of your head. 

“But it’s going to be fine and you’ll be great. Besides, it’s only a friendly so just in case you panic, remember that.” she tells you, knowing how much pressure you felt and your need to prove your worth to England. You nod again as you look up at her smiling.

“You too Lee.” you tell her seriously. Just like her, you also knew about the stress she was experiencing especially as captain. 

“Yeah” she assures you before Georgia and Keira come bouncing over. 

“Come on Y/N warm up with me!” Leah shoots the brunette a look as she brings you even closer to her, refusing to let go of you.

“You’ve had her for long enough! It’s our turn now!” the midfielder demands, ball in hand as she tries to tempt you with it. “Come Y/N, follow the ball”

“Gee she’s not a dog!” Keira laughs at her and you untangle yourself from Leah’s hold. She gives you a hurt look, dramatically slapping a hand against her chest and you giggle at her antics.

“I’ll be back but you go with Kei, okay?” you negotiate with the two while Georgia is shouting at you from a distance as she urges you to hurry up. They nod at you as you walk away from them and Leah leans into her best friend’s side.

“She should come to Barca” 

“Aww Kei don’t start” the blonde jokes as she throws her head back, smacking at her friend’s shoulder. 

“What? Jonatan already has his eyes on her. She’d fit right in.” she explains to Leah who nods, understanding. Leah knows you’re bound to join the club sooner or later in spite of being a die hard Arsenal fan, but it would be a great move for your career…somewhere down the line. 

“But Arsenal needs her more” she points out. Keira is about to open her mouth to interrupt again and tell her that Jonas won’t give you or any of this season’s players minutes once his main strikers are back, but Leah cuts her off. “Let’s go warm up, we’ve only got a few more minutes and Sarina won’t be happy with us.” 

You start on the bench for this game, which you don’t mind because it gives you more time to observe the Australians playing style before you would be substituted in. It’s clear from early on that Sarina’s new line up isn’t working as well as she had hoped. Leah and Esme can’t seem to connect in the defense, Millie is obviously greatly missed from there and every shot on goal is either wide or offside. Despite this, England still manages to keep more possession of the ball, but you worry that won’t mean much if you can’t get a goal out of it. 

If the number of injuries wasn’t enough, another is added to the tally in minute 28, but thankfully nothing serious as Lauren is subbed off for you. Sarina’s hand remains on your shoulder as you wait for Lauren to get to the sidelines, a silent encouragement that she has faith in you to change the game. 

On your run to your position you get pats on the back from Georgia and Keira, both throwing a word of encouragement after you. You slowly exhale as you look over the opposition and your eyes connect with another pair of eyes. You look away as you feel a wave of anxiousness crash over you and you focus back on the game at hand as the match is resumed. 

“Come on Y/N” you mutter under your breath, eyes trained on the ball. 

All it takes is one chance. And Kerr proves that to you as she runs after the ball, hot on Leah’s tail. Leah heads the ball down for Mary but it unfortunately bounces before she can catch it in her gloved hands and Kerr’s foot has already connected with the ball. It’s a goal for Australia. 

Leah walks back with her head hung low as she wipes at her forehead, disappointed in herself. While the Matildas celebrate you take the time to jog to your friend who has turned into an older sister.

“It’s a friendly, Lee. Remember that. You’ve been doing great” you assure her as you squeeze her fingers and she sniffles when she gives you an unsure smile. You nod back at her, telling her to believe you. 

“As long as we have you on the field, I’m not overly worried” she uses flattery as a distraction from her mistake but you see right through it. 

“We’ve still got time to turn this around.” is the last thing you tell her before getting back into position. You’re not too worried about your game because you have Keira and Georgia backing you up as well as your other teammates. Leah recognizes this as well and within a second she has her game face back, ready to face whatever would come next.

It took you a few minutes to get used to the Matildas’ football but you feel like you’ve figured it out. It instantly shows in your game because you’re creating chances for Chloe and Alessia whenever you can. The ball possession remains on England’s side as your team pushes forward and the Australians are visibly taken aback as shots are fired at them. None finds the back of the net until Kerr loses the ball from a pass that Raso gives her. You’re quick to pick up the loose ball and in a blink of an eye you’re sprinting towards their goal, sending a screamer into the top bins. You run towards the corner flag in celebration, patting the badge on your heart as your teammates surround you. 

“There you go!”

“Yes Y/N!” Lucy and Georgia scream in ecstasy. England keep the ball in their possession until the halftime whistle is blown three minutes after your goal. A giddy smile resides on your face, still happy about your involvement in the game and confident that the girls would come out victorious. 

Sarina’s halftime speech isn’t very long but everything she could say is said. When England reenters the pitch, Australia is already out and finishing up their drinks break. 

Arms make their way around your shoulders and you hear a whisper next to you. 

“I heard you got a crush on an academy player” Georgia’s voice is laced with a teasing tone as the two of you walk to the field. You abruptly pull back and turn to her, eyes full of questions.

“Who told you?” the brunette raises her eyebrows at your lack of denial but her expression quickly morphs into a smirk. She shrugs but you already know the answer.

“Leah” she says nonchalantly and another voice cuts in.

“She didn’t need to.” Keira’s arm circles your waist as Georgia’s arm is placed back around your shoulders. You look at the redhead in confusion and the girl on your other side decides to elaborate.

“Every time you tell us about your academy days you mention her name” you blush furiously as you remember the amount of times you had unknowingly flashed the girls a dreamy look when talking about your best friend from the Arsenal academy. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” A chuckle leaves Georgia, there’s the denial. She shares a look with Keira who is giving you the same knowing look.

“Freya Godfrey. Does that ring a bell?” you can feel your face heating up and you hide in Keira’s shoulder as you listen to the two giggling at you. 

“Get away” you joke with them, pushing the both of them towards their positions on the field as you retake yours as well. You can still hear their giggles until they stop, getting ready for the game to restart. 

All seems to be going well as England better their tactics and keep the Australians on their toes. All seems to be going well as Chloe, Alessia, and yourself make a run towards their goal. All seems to be going well as Alessia delivers a wonderful cross to you. All seems to be going well until nothing is going well. 

You jump forwards to head the ball into the net and at the same time Sam Kerr tries to intercept. She also jumps, leg outstretched towards the incoming ball but she misses and instead of the ball she gets you. You can feel her studs sliding across your face before you land on the ground with a big thump. Searing pain takes over you as you lay face down on the grass, eyes stinging, nose feeling like it’s not in place and your head throbbing. Then suddenly you feel nothing as everything goes numb.

Kerr looks down at you, a horrified look on her face but the referee hasn’t blown the whistle yet and she feels obligated to run after the ball. Alessia is immediately screaming for the referee as you lay still while Keira instantly runs to your aid. It takes the ref around two minutes to finally blow the whistle and by that time Keira and Alessia have managed to turn you on your backside.

Your face is covered in blood, so much so that they can barely make out where your mouth is. 

“Oh no, no no” Keira is panicking as she looks you over and she starts waving for the medics. 

Georgia and Chloe are the next to get to you, both gasping in shock. Georgia feels sick to her stomach and she turns away from the sight of you all bloodied, opting to lean onto Rachel for support. Keira’s hand is on your knee as she calls out your name, waiting for any sign that you’re awake.

By the time Leah gets to you the medics are already making their way past Georgia and Rachel.

Leah’s face pales at what she sees and she drops to her knees next to you in horror. 

“Leah” Keira’s voice is broken as she searches for her captain's eyes. Her eyes remain on you however and she reaches a shaking hand out to your face, moving a strand of bloody hair from your forehead. Medics push them back as they try to assess the damage. 

Your three sisters watch in almost slow motion as they lift your head and wipe the blood from your face. They watch as the medics feel for a pulse and their panic only rises until they get a thumbs up and they allow themselves to let out the smallest exhales of relief. 

“She’s -” Georgia can't finish her sentence as her eyes water. Another wipe of your face reveals the cut on your cheek and nose. It also reveals the swelling of your nose and the misplacement of it. A broken nose. It’s not a big injury and you’d recover quickly but the way your face is now adorned with small cuts is not a pretty sight and it only makes your teammates even more worried.

“Oh my god” Leah wipes her eyes before the tears can fall. You have still yet to open your eyes or give them any indication that you were conscious. 

“What’s going on?” Keira questions one of the medics as they load you onto a stretcher.

“She’s likely passed out from the pain. She’s got a broken nose and maybe a concussion but that’s about it. She’ll need stitches for two of those cuts. We’re taking her to the medical room” the team is briefly told as the medic rushes the words out before he runs off after his colleagues.

The three stare after them as the medics carry you off the field, sorrowful looks painted across their faces as it sets in. Georgia huffs out a breath of frustration for not being allowed to go after you while the other two reflect on just twenty minutes ago when you were running around and scoring. 

The loss of your presence is immediately felt as Australia scores seven minutes later though it’s called off as an offside. The rest of the game goes by in a blur and the second the final whistle is blown and the teams have shaken hands, the trio are off towards the locker room in search of you. Hoping that you’re okay and sitting in your cubby with one of their hoodies draped over you like usual, waiting for them to get back.

Silence and emptiness is what greets them when they open the door of the changing room. They turn on their heels, marching to where they think the medical room is, to where you’d be. However, before they can reach it Leah is pulled back by a hand on her arm and she looks to one of the staff members. He wears an apologetic look on his face and she knows what’s coming.

“Now?! They want me to do a post-match interview now??!” she aggressively barks back but calms herself as she follows the staff member, urging Georgia and Keira to find you.

“Good evening Leah, sorry to hold you back, we’ve only got a few questions.” the interviewer tells her but she couldn’t muster up a genuine smile even if she tried. She speed runs the basic questions she always gets asked, her feet thumping on the floor as she looks behind the camera every few seconds, waiting for the signal that she can leave.

“Do you feel this tie is a setback?”

“Uh no. Absolutely not. Sometimes you have to take blessings in disguise. This friendly allowed us to experiment with different lineups and strategies which I think could help us greatly for the world cup.” she nods along to her words.

“Facing one of the top teams, top player. How hard was it to stop Sam Kerr ?”

“As a footballer you expect to go up against those top teams' top players. Obviously it’s hard, it’s a challenge but yeah, I think we nullified the threat pretty well. Obviously gifted that goal..” she pauses for a second as they replay the clip where she headed the ball towards Mary, effectively giving a goal to Sam.

 “You play top teams - watching it again, thanks for having that in front of me” she lets out a nervous laugh as she rewatches the clip. Your words echo in her mind and she wills herself to calm her nerves. 

“You play top teams, you play top players and when they’re in form sometimes that punishes us, but I think this has fueled the fire in us. It gives you a bit of fire.”

The interviewer nods at her answer as she checks over her questions and once again Leah finds herself glancing towards the doorway in hopes of getting away.

“Y/N L/N took a rough hit tonight in a nasty collision with Sam Kerr. She’s a recent addition to the team, what can you say about her as a player?”

Leah’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of you, her mind replaying the scene in front of her as you fell to the ground, when she saw your blood covered face, how you were unresponsive. She clears her throat as she tries to clear the images from her head.

“She’s pure class, a very talented young player and I believe she has got a very bright future ahead of her.” she says, voice full of determination as her eyes twinkle with pride but also worry.

 “Speaking of, may I?” she points a thumb to the side, asking if they could wrap up the interview.

“Yes, of course. Thank you for your time!”

“Yeah, thanks” she rushes out before jogging down the corridor to where the medical room is, anxiety and nervousness rising in her chest.

Upon opening the door a squeal greets her.

“Leeeeee!” your voice is nasally but it brings Leah so much comfort she could fall to the ground in relief. Georgia and Keira are sitting on either side of you, both holding onto your hand as they smile at their captain.

“Hey babes” she breathes out, taking long strides to your bed. She takes notice of your wrapped up nose and the stitching on your cheek. She gently runs a finger over it before she leans down to press a big kiss on your hairline. You grin up at her, nodding to the space next to your legs and she sits down.

“So?”

“Mild concussion, broken nose-”

“Not anymore!” you cut off Keira’s medical report, giggling to yourself. Leah raises an eyebrow at your state.

“No more broken nose then but she has stitches on the bridge of her nose and her cheek - as you can see” Leah scans your face before resting a hand on your thigh and giving you a gentle smile.

“I feel like a hamster.” you announced, flailing around your hand and Georgia’s. “You know in my dream there was this big big green truck? I named it Weelah Liliamson.”

The girls burst out laughing at your words, the air becoming lighter.

“Oh yeah, and she’s high on meds.” Georgia states, chuckling at your offended expression.

“I don’t get high, I’m a football player you know? You know I’m a football player? I play football!” 

“Yeah, yes I know” she giggles along.

“Don’t take drugs kids, no drugs.” you shake your head at her, eyes wide and bleary. 

“Okay Y/N/N, we’re taking you home yeah? You’re sleeping at mine.” Leah pats your thigh to gain your attention and you sit up straighter.

“We’re having a sleepover?! YESSS!” you cheer before falling back.

“Shhh. Yes, sleepover.” Keira confirms, helping you drink. An amused look in her eyes, only happy that you were feeling beter.

“You guys are my bestest friends, man I love you all so much” you mumble out, eyelids suddenly getting heavy. The three look at each other with wide smiles, their heart melting at your words and they watch over you as you fall back asleep.

“We love you too”

[daitranscripts]

Vivienne Conversation: High Approval

Let's Talk About Our Friends

Vivienne Masterpost

PC: What are your thoughts on the others in the Inquisition?

Dialogue options:

Dorian [1]

Blackwall [2]

Sera [3]

Cole[4]

Varric [5]

Solas [6]

Cassandra [7]

1 - Dorian:

Not romanced Vivienne: Our dear Lord Dorian is very sure of himself, isn’t he? Let’s hope he doesn’t get his confidence crushed.

Romanced

Vivienne: You of course mean to speak of your Tevinter paramour. I doubt I can be impartial about him. I have been a Circle mage far too long… But he does have a great sense of fashion. I’ll give him that.

Vivienne: You of course mean to speak of your Tevinter paramour. I admit he’s quite charming. I can see how he’s stolen your heart. f0c67cf0-162a-491b-9407-2afbb0200190 [Not sure of the exact trigger on this one]

Vivienne (post-breakup): You want to talk about dear Lord Dorian. You can admit it, darling. I’d heard that you were no longer keeping his company. I do hope everything is all right.

2 - Blackwall

Not romanced, personal quest not started Vivienne: Blackwall is a useful sort of fellow, but he’s perhaps too eager to please. He reminds me of a pup begging for attention.

Romanced, personal quest not-started Vivienne: You seem quite fond of our Warden, Blackwall. I think it’s charming.

Romanced, personal quest started Vivienne: I know you were attached to him, my dear. Perhaps his absence will set your mind at ease.

Post-Revelations, not romanced Vivienne: Blackwall surprised me. I never would have thought him capable of carrying off such deception.

Vivienne (left in prison): He was tolerably useful, but I’m sure we can find someone else to poke things to death.

Vivienne (given to the Wardens): Generous, you giving him a chance at redemption. Let’s see if he manages it.

Vivienne (freed to atone): You were quite forgiving. I hope he fares better as a Rainier than a Blackwall.

Vivienne (imprisoned): A bit dangerous, though, continuing this Warden charade. Let us hope nothing further comes of it.

Post-Revelations, romanced Vivienne: Blackwall surprised me. I never would have thought him capable of carrying off such deception.

Given to the Wardens

Vivienne (broke up during judgement): His betrayal must have stung. It’s very generous of you, giving him a chance to redeem himself.

Vivienne: He is an extremely fortunate man to remain in your good graces after such a lie. I hope he will do well.

Freed to atone

Vivienne (broke up during judgement): You were very kind to him, however horribly he betrayed your trust.

Vivienne: He’s a lucky man. Few women would have forgiven such a lie. Let’s hope he lives up to your faith in him.

Imprisoned

Vivienne: Be careful, my dear. Men are simple creatures. Resentment in his present circumstance could become an issue.

3 - Sera:

Vivienne:��Sera I certainly a colorful character. Like a poisonous toad, only without the manners.

Romanced

Vivienne: I would never criticize your choice in paramours, my dear. I’m sure Sera’s affection for you is genuine. She’s nowhere near clever enough to be after you for your wealth or position, so it must be true love.

Vivienne (after break-up): I understand that you and Sera are no longer a couple. Don’t worry, my dear. You can do so much better.

4 - Cole:

Vivienne: Whether Cole is a spirit or a demon is irrelevant. Neither can be trusted, my dear. Remember that.

5 - Varric:

Vivienne: What exactly is Varric’s role in the Inquisition? Aside from irritating Cassandra?

Vivienne: So Varric was spying on us all this time? I’m impressed. I never would have taken him for a player of the Game. I’ll have to watch him more closely from now on. fae0e7ba-1667-413b-9680-10ea0a6f0165 [I can’t find the plot flag for this?]

6 - Solas:

Vivienne: I don’t know what to make of Solas. So much knowledge and so little personal history… I find that… peculiar. Don’t you?

Romanced. Vivienne: Is it my imagination, dear, or have certain… lingering looks passed between you and our Solas?

After Solas has left. Vivienne: It’s strange not having Solas hanging about looking smug. I wonder where he’s gone.

7 - Cassandra:

Vivienne: I admire Cassandra’s determination. If she had a little charm, she could be a remarkable leader.

Romanced Vivienne: My dear, if you want to talk about Cassandra, just say so. I see how you dote upon her. You’re a fetching couple, you know. Or you would be if Cassandra ever smiled.

[crownmemes]

Spy Sentences, Vol. 6

(Sentences from various sources for spies and/or secretive muses. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"Let's just say that I'm in a position to know quite a lot of things."

"We're alone on this. There's no one we can trust."

"You’ve never had the stomach for our business."

"If he's such a threat, why not eliminate him?"

"Every problem has a solution."

"I have my orders, and the license to execute them as I see fit."

"You're the only one I trust."

"You never had a chance. For every step you take, they're three steps ahead."

"Your level of commitment seems to have diminished."

"Did I not mention that I'm an escape artist?"

"Does it ever bother you? Being alone?"

"Why are you so paranoid?"

"I'm not going to be responsible for your death."

"Remember the day you first walked into my office? You pissed me off just looking at you, but then I saw how your mind worked - how you're always three jumps again."

"I was a dead man. Now, I'm back."

"There's classified government information I've been trying to access, but someone has been blocking my attempts to get at it."

"That's a good story, but I've heard a lot of good stories lately."

"For such a principled man, you show an amazing lack of emotion."

"Your lies have killed more men in a day than I have in a lifetime."

"You have no rights, only orders to be carried out."

"I've seen agents with twenty years of experience fall apart on cases like this."

"I was under the impression that you were sent to spy on me."

"I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to help you."

"Why should I tell the truth if you won't?"

"In our line of work, nothing is just what it seems."

"I'm not the only liar here."

"Don't try to threaten me. I've watched presidents die."

"So, what is it you want me to keep an eye on?"

"Success in your current assignment is imperative."

"Don't unlock doors you're not prepared to go through. "

"It's happening again, isn't it?"

"I will not tolerate any more of your questions!"

"A good chess player knows which pieces to sacrifice, and when."

"I work very hard to keep any president from knowing I even exist."

"I can provide you with information, but only so long as it's in my best interest to do so."

"I can kill you whenever I please, but not today."

"You can't ask the truth of a man who trades in lies."

"Control the board. Know which men to sacrifice and when."

"If you find the right starting point and follow it, not even secrets of the darkest of men are safe."

"It's dangerous for us just to have a little chat. We must assume we're being watched."

[strugglingwriterwattpad]

wolfsbane chapter two - second chance at first line

Chapter two - Second Chance at First Line

Scott and Stiles discover that the werewolf curse can also be triggered by anger, besides the full moon. With lacrosse and Allison being the big problem for Scott. But something else becomes a problem, the dead body in the Hale house or (Y/N)’s failed attempt at finding love.

Monday, September 6th

The werewolf slammed his fist into the now permanently dented metal. “Yes! Her father!” he growled. “You, okay?” nothing. Not a single bit of movement “Hey, all right? He didn't recognize you, right?” stiles knelt next to Scott as he panted heavily. “No... N-no, I don't think so...”

“Does she know about him?” his brown eyes turned confused before he shrugged his shoulder in a panic looking back up at his friend. “I don't know! What if she does? This is gonna kill me, man.”

The buzzcut boy pulled Scott up pushing his uniform and equipment into his sweaty palms. “Okay, just focus on lacrosse. Okay? Take this. Take this, and focus on lacrosse for now, okay? That's all you gotta do, yes?”

His breathing finally calmed down looking down at his destroyed locker. “Lacrosse.” He sighed. The two boys slowly left the locker room watching the rest of the team race onto the field. “Here. We. Go!”

Coach Finstock had already begun announcing their first task for the evening smacking his clipboard on the bench. “Let's go! One-on-one from up top! Jackson-- take a long stick today. Atta boy!” Jackson took his place on the field eyeing Scott as he also took his place. The whistle blew and the game began with Scott being a lot slower than he was at try-outs. “McCall, what are you waiting for? Let's go!” Scott tried his best to focus. He tried to race towards Jackson, but his strength seemed to vanish as he fell to the ground with a thud after making an impact on the captain. “Hey, McCall!” Scott moved his head down the face of the green field. His breath got thicker as his rage increased. The ignorant blonde always got on his nerves but now he was a werewolf that rage seemed to triple. “You sure you still want to be the first line, McCall?” Jackson said only making his emotions worse.

Coach finally made it over to Scott just as Jackson walked away. ”My-my grandmother can move faster than that-- and she's dead! You think you can move faster than the corpse of my dead grandmother?” Scott shook his head, his helmet clanking against his skin. “I can't hear you!”

He stood straight eyeing Jackson with a growl. “Yes. Coach.”

“Then do it again!”

Scott clenched his jaw again as he sighed and ran back to position while Coach shouted mockingly toward the rest of the players. “McCall's gonna do it again! McCall's gonna do it again!”

Jackson returned to his mid-field position as Scott returned to the front of the line-up for one-on-ones; though his eyes were no longer glowing gold, he still looked angry. The whistle blew once again. “Let's go!”

Scott ran full speed at his captain, gripping his lacrosse stick hard as he collided with Jackson, his right shoulder hitting him at full force. Jackson fell backwards, landing flat on his back in the grass as Scott had done earlier. He clutched his shoulder in pain trying to take a breath.

Stiles, panicked, ran over to Scott to check on him while everyone else was distracted by Jackson. “Scott? Scott, are you, okay? “Scott’s fangs had made an appearance. and his eyes were glowing bright gold as he desperately tried to keep himself from fully turning. Stiles threw his arm around Scott's shoulders, forcing him up toward the locker room doors.

As they tended to Jackson, nobody noticed the angry werewolf standing behind the benches watching the younger wolf’s actions. The green-eyed male turned back towards the forest checking his phone for the time. He knew the teen wouldn’t have control the day after the first turn, but he expected the boy to understand the dangers. He would have to have a talk with him. a very forceful talk.

(Y/N) quickly scrambled to get her house key locking the door as Derek pulled into the gravel drive. In the daylight, his car was impressive to her recently cleaned with tinted windows, but nothing compared to the driver. Derek’s lean figure came into view as we walked around to the passenger side with a toothy grin. She smiled trying to hide her blush as she skipped towards him. “Good morning, Derek.” She smiled his warming radiating off his toned body. “Good morning (Y/N).” His large hand opened the passenger door motioning her to enter his car. “Thank you.” She whispered shyly making him chuckle.

“there’s a small coffee shop downtown right by the shopping street.” He spoke leaving the meadow cottage in the distance. “Sounds cute. I haven’t had the chance to go into town yet.” Now and then, Derek would look down at her fingers watching her twiddle them with nerves. “Hey…” he mumbled grabbing her smaller fingers in his own larger ones. Her skin was cold to the touch but smooth like cream. He felt the sparks from his wolf almost feeling like pins and needles. “You, okay?” He made sure to speak with emotion. His rough voice had changed since the last time he felt like this with a girl. Let alone a woman. This time it was different. She was made for him. She didn’t know it yet, but she was. “Sorry… it’s my first date.” She stuttered.

“That I don’t believe.” He laughed. “I met you once (Y/N). And after that one time, I couldn’t get you out of my head.” He loved the sound of her laugh echoing in the car. “ It was the same with me. I think your green eyes messed with my head Mr hale.” She felt the same with his laugh. She could tell it was a sound rarely heard it was rough and broken like it was pulled out of the storage of his body. The young girl watched her driver pull into the car park stopping slowly by the ticket machine. “Why don’t you head inside and grab a table ill finish packing up.” She nodded her head, her styled hair moving with the motion before she shut the door.

(Y/N) walked into the coffee shop trying to ignore the looks of the older couples looking her up and down like a freak show. She smiled towards the barista asking him for the decaf options. Before she could order the bell from the door jingled signalling a new customer. She smiled looking towards the handsome man she was waiting for. He stopped in his tracks finally getting a good look at her out of the morning sun. Her glossy hair was styled straight framing her natural face shape. She was wearing different shades of purple. A short dress decorated with lighter flowers and a cardigan tied in the middle. Derek looked down at her feet noticing her taller state and seeing chunky black sandals wrapped around her tattooed ankles. Once again, she was covered in jewellery with assorted designs from bones to plants. His wolf almost wanted to pounce at her, but he held it back as much as he can.

“Just in time. I finished my order what do you want?” she asked sweetly clutching her card. “Just a black coffee please.” He asked, “And don’t take her card. I’ll be paying.” The barista nodded before getting on with the two drinks. “I’m not having this argument again.” She sighed smiling widely pushing his hand with his card down. “I don’t think so.” The card reader activated pulling Derek’s attention towards the device. Before he reached over, he felt her long black painted nails swirl the back of his head sending new sensations into his body. She leaned closer to the hidden wolf licking her matching black lips with a cheeky smile. “it’s funny how you assume I would give up on this Derek.” She whispered as the barista turned back around again. “here’s something you should know about me before this goes any further…” The chime of the card reader interrupts Derek’s trance seeing her card be accepted by the reader. “When I say ill pay… I pay.” She giggles picking up their coffees and walking to the booth at the back of the shop.

once Derek sat down (Y/N) eyed him as he blew on his mug and took a sip. His green eyes fascinated her. Maybe it was due to their relation to nature? She didn’t know but she knew she would never get tired of his eyes. “So… what brought you to beacon hills?” he asked as she took a sip of her drink. “Mostly a change of scenery.” She smiled, “I used to live in New Orleans, but it was too busy for me. My grandmother thought it would be good for me.” He nodded his head wondering about her life in a busy place. “My friend hooked me up with a job at the vet it’s not what I major in but it’s something to do.” Derek took another sip mentally noting she worked at the same place Scott did. “It surprises me.” He said the girl’s head tilted in confusion. “Most people who move here are running from something.” She knew it was a joke, but she couldn’t help but think of the spark in her head. He felt her heart skip multiple beats meaning he had hit a nerve in her. Her sweet smile faded as she focused on the drink in her mug. “I guess I kinda am.” She mumbled, “Sorry I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.” She tried her best to boost her mood swirling her drink to make a whirlpool.

“No, I shouldn’t have said that. It just reminded me of myself.” He spoke. Stop. Stop talking. She doesn’t need to know what happened. “How do you mean?” she asked. “My family died in a fire 6 years ago. When it happened the first thing, I did was leave for New York.” She didn’t need to know what. Why was he still talking? He shouldn’t trust her. He couldn’t trust her. Stop. Talking. “there’s no shame in running. Especially from something like losing your family.” He looked up towards her, her eyes twinkling from the reflection of the fairy lights in the café. “On the bright side, at least neither of us has to worry about meeting the other family.” Derek smiled at her attempt to make the conversation brighter. “I’m guessing your family isn’t in the picture.” He asked. She laughed making his body relax. “God, I hope not. The day I introduce you to my parents, run!”

Derek hadn’t laughed so much in a long time. The girl facing him brought something out of him that he strangely missed. They both rested their hand on the table lightly brushing their fingertips. The two quickly moved back as they shared the sensation of a zap zooming through their bodies. Derek knew what had happened but kept calm and collected. “Sorry.” She giggled thinking nothing of it except friction. “Anyway, tell me something about you Mr Mysterious.” (Y/N) looked up towards the barista as he refilled her mug smiling in a thank you. “Well, not much to tell to be honest. I was born in the town and played basketball for the school. went to college for business which I’ve never used. I moved back less than a month ago.” (Y/N) nodded her head while humming into her drink. “I wouldn’t take you for a business student. Maybe more of a criminology student. You’d probably be good at interrogations.”

“And why would you say that?”

“you’re a bit of a sourpuss.” Derek huffed into his mug smiling lightly. “You have no idea.” He laughed. “What about you? I know you lived in New Orleans but other than that.” The girl looked down into her mug watching the liquid swirl as she strutted out an innocent timeline. “I was born in Texas; my parents were the typical religious nuts I ran away at 16 to New Orleans. I’m studying plants mostly, but I majored in cryptozoology.” His thick brow arched in confusion that the unfamiliar word. “Sorry, it is the study of mythical creatures. So, things like bigfoot, the Loch Ness monster.” Derek tried hard to suppress his fear there was no way the woman he imprinted on was obsessed with mythical creatures and did not be something to do with his world. Once again, he begged whatever god was listening to not be a hunter. “My favourites are werewolves. She giggled. “No matter what research or legend you read they all say that werewolves mate for life. When they lose a mate that’s it, they die alone mostly from a broken heart.”

“What would you do if you met one?” he mumbled looking up with puppy dog eyes that made her melt in her seat. “Well, first id ask it not to kill me.” She joked. “Probably just talk to them. I mean they’re no different to me or you. Just hairy?” Derek smiled lightly with a big sigh of relief unknown to her she was already doing what she wanted to do. before he could reply to the small clock in the café chimed twelve spooking (Y/N) with a jump.

 “Oh, shoot noon already?!” she ground her teeth grabbed hold of her bag on the other chair and looked back up at Derek. “I’m sorry I’m gonna have to go I have some errands before work.” Disappointed Derek could only smile nodding his head “Don’t worry it’s fine. I’m guessing another date to finish where we left off.” He asked as the two stood up and tidy the table. “Anywhere you would suggest?”

“There’s an old English-style pub on the other end of time, called the Swan, Thursday night ill meet you there at 6?” she noted it down on her hand before scrambling through her tote bag and pulling out the familiar leather jacket he had seen her in the night before. “ As much as I want to steal it?” she joked. He took it from her dainty hands noticing the torn bitten edges of her nail beds almost raw to draw blood. He eyed the jacket for a moment before wrapping It back around her as she closed the café door. “I think it looks a lot better on you than me.” He whispered. His wolf quickly got the better of him as the scent of her entered his nose. He kissed her cheek feeling the heat from her rosy cheek hit his lips sending him into cloud nine. “I’ll see you Thursday, Mr Hale.” She giggled. The werewolf watched the girl walk down the street towards the shops, his fern-green eyes watching her skirt sway with her hips.

As Night fell on beacon hills, Scott returned home to his messy bedroom. He dropped his backpack onto the floor in the corner and belly-flopped onto his bed with a heavy sigh. After a moment of silence, a knock on his door startled him out of his trance. “Hey, late shift again for me. But I am taking the day off to see your first game!” Scott, clearly still unhappy about the fact that he knows he can’t play, wasted no time to start arguing with her in a grumpy tone. “No, Mom, you can't-“ Melissa scoffed interrupting him. “Oh, no, I can and will. Come on, one shift isn't gonna break us... Not completely... stiles’ dad thought it would be a good idea to invite your new co-worker (Y/N)?” Scott knew he couldn’t change her mind knowing his mother’s words were final. “Hey, what's with your eyes? “Alarmed, Scott rose onto his elbows, frightened of the glowing gold that was new to him. “You look like you haven't slept in days.” Trying to hide his relief, Scott shook his head sighing lightly. “Oh, uh, it's nothing. I'm just... stressed...”

“Just stress? Nothing else?”

“ Homework...”

“ I mean, it's not like you're on drugs or anything, right?”

“ ...Right now?”

Melissa scoffed loudly before starting a row of questions. “Right now? I'm sorry, what do you mean, "right now?" Have you ever taken drugs?”

“ Have you?”

Melissa stared at her child with irritation and exasperation for a moment before finally just clicking her tongue, sighing, and walking to the door with a huff. “Get some sleep.” She passed him one last look and finally disappears to go to work. As Scott heard the front door lock, he marched towards his laptop hearing the familiar ringtone for video call. Stiles’ face popped on the screen with a flashing toy gun shooting at the monitor with a red beam. “What’d you find out?” Too exhausted to play games, Scott got to the point of the call, which was Jackson. “Well, it's bad. Jackson's got a separated shoulder.” Guilt slowly grew in the pit of the werewolf’s stomach. Jackson may have been an asshole, but the teen bully didn’t ask to be floored by a supernatural being with the strength of fifty men. “Because of me?” at his words stiles sneered. “Because he's a tool. they don't know if he’s gonna play yet. Now, they're just counting on you.” Just what Scott needed to hear.

On-screen, Stiles leant forward, concern displayed on his pale face. “What?” his friend’s brown eyes widened with concern. The boy started to frantically type the sound of clicking keys echoed through the speaker. “It looks like what? Scott read. Buffering. Loading. Reconnecting. The pause was painful for the werewolf. “Come on, damnit!” It looks like someone’s behind you! It read. “What?” Scott quickly switched his camera to his own watching the shadow behind him grow and grow.

It's Derek, who immediately snatched the adolescent by the back of his red hoodie and pulled him to his feet. he shoved him face-first against the nearby wall and held him there as he growled animalistically. “I saw you on the field!” the off-guard Scott dangled with fear as he processed his words. “Wha-what are you talking about?” he stuttered. “You shifted in front of them! If they find out what you are, they find out about me, about all of us. And then it's not just the Hunters after us, it's everyone.”

“ They didn't see anything! I s-swear, I-“ Scott paused his words as he breathed in the scent of sage. Panic spread across his young face before being replaced with rage. “Why do you smell like (Y/N)?” he growled his golden eyes shifting. With a huff, Derek sighed slamming him into the plaster again. “Why do you care?”

“Stay away from (Y/N)!” he ordered before falling to the ground. “Keep out of mine and (Y/N) business Scott.” Scott slowly pulled himself back up feeling his bones click and crack. “she’s not yours.” He argued watching the older wolf step towards the window. “Wanna bet on that?”

Tuesday, September 7th

the next day at school, Scott started his Derek homework, getting out of the Friday night game. The teen’s sweaty body replayed the words from the older wolf. His smell also played on his mind. Why (Y/N) Why his new co-worker? Was it to keep an eye on him? to threaten him? Scott knew for sure Derek couldn’t have true feelings towards her. he was certain he didn’t have emotions. As Scott and Coach walked through the boy's locker room and into the office, Coach was completely confused and irritated by what Scott has just told him. “What do you mean, you can't play the game Friday night?”

Scott stood in the door frame gawkily, knowing that he has no real good reason for backing out that wouldn’t sound foolish to the Coach. sore muscles would never work. Maybe he could break a bone. “ I mean... I can't play the game Friday night...” Finstock’s eyes continued to blink rapidly with confusion. “You can't wait to play the game Friday night!”

“No, Coach. I can't play the game tomorrow night.”

“...I'm not following.”

“I'm having some... personal issues.”

“Is it a girl?” technically yes. A girl and a woman. One he knew he had strong feelings towards, the other he saw as a cool older sister he wanted to desperately protect. “Is it a guy?” Again, technically yes. A broody old werewolf with a problem with a boy trying to get on with his life. Potentially threatening said the older sister figure. “You know, our goalie, Danny, is gay...”

“Yeah, I know, Coach, but that's not it.”

“You don't think Danny's a good-looking guy?”

“I... think he's good-looking. But I-I-I like girls.”

“What, is it drugs? Are you doing meth? Because I had a brother that was addicted to meth. You should have seen what it did to his teeth! They were all cracked and rotted. it was disgusting.”

“My God-- what happened to him?”

“He got veneers! Is-is that what this is about? Are you afraid of getting hurt, McCall?

“ No... I'm... having some issues dealing with aggression...” technically not a lie.

“Well, here's the good news! That's why you play lacrosse! Problem solved. Listen, McCall, part of playing the first line is taking on the responsibility of being the first line. Now, if you can't shoulder that responsibility, then you're back on the bench until you're ready. McCall... play the game.”

Scott finally gave up on his eccentric coach, he marched down the student-filled halls palms sweating with panic. His phone rang the annoying tone rattling his ears. his mother.

Got the night off! Coming to see you play! So excited!!

Before he allowed his rage to take over, Scott pulled his head up meeting the chocolate brown eyes of Allison. Her sweet smile quickly made the worried and panic vanish. “Hey,” she smiled twirling her curls between her nimble fingers. “Hey,” he breathed. She looked down at his hands, seeing the small communication device. “Busy?” Scott watched confused, she directed to his phone as he nervously stammered out a response. “No, no, it's just, uh, my mom. She's nothing.” Allison’s eyes shot up with surprise before Scott finally realised what he had spoken. “I mean, it's nothing. Uh, I'm never busy for you.” Her smile momentarily returned. “I like the sound of that. I have to run to French class, but I wanted you to know that I'm coming to see you play tomorrow.” Scott processed the latest information. Another person he cared about to worry about. “You are?”

He knew he should have been happy to know the girl of his dreams was actually interested in his game. However, with the newfound rage bomb that was the wolf inside him. “And we're all going out afterwards…you, me, Lydia, Jackson... It's gonna be great. Tell Stiles to come, too. Uh, save me a seat at lunch. I gotta go!” as her small frame swayed down the hall the dark soft fabric of her jacket took his interest. The last time he had seen that jacket was that previous Friday hung up with Derek standing underneath like the creep Scott believed he was. Something was different about the jacket its once sweet smell of Allison was now mixed with the stench of Derek.

Scott rode his bike through the forest, furiously pushing the pedals so he could go as fast as he could. As his anger kept bubbling, he made it to the Hale House remains. he hopped off his bike and threw it to the ground with a thud before he raced over to what was left of the front porch. “Derek! DEREK!”

Catching his breath, Scott looked around for a moment, taking note of a recently dug patch of Earth. The dirty smell masked the faint smell of the crimson liquid flowing through his veins. He snapped his senses to the presence of another person and turned back to find Derek, standing on the porch, staring him down like a hunter. “Stay away from her! She doesn't know anything!” he growled showing his golden orbs to the older beta hoping to look slightly intimidating. “Yeah? What if she does?”

Derek stopped walking as soon as he felt the heat from the newborn wolf. He could see how angry he was, how much this young girl was affecting him. he couldn’t tell if it was good or not. Maybe this girl could help him control himself, maybe she would be his downfall. Not just Scott’s but Derek’s too. An argent was unwelcome news. Derek knew that for sure. “You think your little buddy Stiles can just Google "Werewolves," and now you got all the answers? Is that it?”

still furious, Scott stayed silent as he tried to catch his breath. Derek continued as he slowly walked closer to Scott to make his point. “You don't get it yet, Scott, but I'm looking out for you. Not just for you but for Stiles, for Allison, for (Y/N). Think about what could happen. You're on the field... the aggression takes over... and you shift in front of everyone.” He bent down and picked up Scott's lacrosse stick from his abandoned backpack, his muscles clenching around the staff like sports equipment. “Your mom, all your friends even (Y/N). and trust me you don’t want her to hurt her. when they see you...” with a swipe of his claws, the small basket on the end of the stick was destroyed.

“Everything falls apart.”

Casually, Derek tossed the stick up into the air and from grabbing the stick from the sky to looking back down, Derek had vanished.

Wednesday, September 13th

As Derek marched through the woods, he thought back to his words towards Scott. He remembered the pain he felt from his previous encounter with the Argents. How could he let himself get so stupid to catch feelings for a woman that he wasn’t connected to? Not even her scent drew him in. It was his annoying teenage mind thinking it was cool to date an older woman. Now he looked back with many regrets knowing now how abusive and predatory the wench was being.

He was quickly drawn out of his thoughts with his senses working overtime. The metallic scent of blood wafted through his nose. Light screams filled his eardrums. He raced through the foliage, swiftly stopping at the familiar wall of poison flowers.

He knew he could never get bored of the view of her. just watching her do domestic things like she was now was almost enchanting to him. As she bent down to pick at the weeds growing in her beautiful garden, he smiled lightly thinking of himself helping her. tending to their land together like a proper domestic couple no wolves, no hunters, just them and the meadow around them. His thoughts once again switched off at the sound of screams starting once again. He inspected her intensely preying she was okay. But the screams once again stopped. Nothing came out her mouth, her radio playing Season of the Witch didn’t jump, but the screams were high-pitched and quick. He watched her place from roots into her basket, but she didn’t take them to her compost she took them inside, locking the screen door behind her once her black hair companion joined her.

The only thing he thought was still strange was the blood smell. He knew it was her blood, but she seemed fine, but her once blushing skin was cold and pale, almost dead-like.

Stiles slammed the clinic door shut shaking the clinic making (Y/N) jump with shock. “Stiles please be gentle with the door honey.” She sighed taking her vet jacket off and looping it onto her hook. “Sorry (Y/N).” he stuttered skipping over to Scott. “What did you find? How did you find it? Where did you find it?” he asked being sure to for once talk quietly in front of (Y/N). “I found something at Derek Hale's.” the teen with the buzz-cut eyes shot open with surprise. “Are you kidding? What?” the two teens turned around looking at the beautiful goth who was currently in her own world deep in her piles of books. “There's something buried out there. I could smell blood. I don’t know who’s but your dad nails Derek for the murder. And then, you help me figure out how to play lacrosse without changing because there's no way I'm not playing that game.”

The duo spun around marching towards the door. Stiles quickly stopped almost falling to the ground with a skid of his shoes. “Nice collection there (Y/N)” he commented noting the piles of books all seemed to be about some sort of cryptid or spiritual book. the woman looked up with shining eyes of excitement. “it’s a bit of a hobby I guess you can tell with the matching tats. Unknowingly to Scott, he kept the girl distracted with questions giving the robin of the duo to slip the specific book labelled Lycans and the Moon. “Well boys I’ve got to go so no offence…get out so I can lock up.” (Y/N) smiled jesting to the door Stiles had slammed open earlier. “Sorry. Have a good night (Y/N)”

Scott and Stiles drove the bumping roads towards the hospital plotting their next plan. “Dude I really don’t have a good feeling about (Y/N).” stiles confessed gripping the steering wheel. “I mean the new girl in town. We can all admit she is a dark babe from hell but come on. Don’t you think it’s a bit of a coincidence that we discover werewolves, your new girlfriend is from a family of hunters, and we just found her with piles and piles of books about supernatural creatures.” Scott breathed heavily tapping the scratched glass of the jeep. “You know stiles some people really do find it interesting.” He hoped. “Well, I hope your right Scott. Cause I hate for such a hot girl to be evil. That will make the dreams really weird.”

“I didn’t need to know that, Stiles.”

Unsure of where to go to get the information they need, Scott and Stiles wondered the halls of the hospital, the bright lights of the halls flickered the signs above. After a moment, Stiles looked up a sign for the morgue dangling just above his head. As Scott headed in, stiles wandered around like a lost puppy. “Good luck, I guess...”

As he turned his body, he focused his attention on Lydia waiting in one of the seats. He immediately got both nervous and excited to be this close to her, finally being able to make his unplanned move. “Hey, Lydia... You probably don't remember me. Um, I sit behind you in biology.” Her face contorted into confusion watching the loose teen with a twirl of her ginger locks. Lydia. “Uh, anyway, I always thought that we just had this kind of connection. Unspoken, of course. Maybe it'd be kind of cool to... get to know each other a little better...”

Stiles quickly stopped his speech as soon as a small device pulled away from her rosy ears. “Hold on, give me a second.” She giggled to the person on the other line. Her green eyes focused on Stiles for the first time in his life. “Yeah, I didn't get any of what you just said. Is it worth repeating?” she mocked. The poor boy’s pale cheeks flushed pink rubbing his peach fuzz hair with embarrassment. “No. Sorry, I'll just sit...You don't care...”

Meanwhile, Scott tiptoed down the eerie morgue hall before opening the nearest door. He kept sniffing and sniffing, touching the metal handles of each coffin-like storage. Suddenly, he stopped smelling the same pine and rain scent that was buried under the dirt pile. He slowly pulled ‘jane doe’ out of her metal resting place and took a strong sniff of her decaying body. It was a match. An exact match.

“Holy God!” stiles squealed as Scott pulled the fake magazine distraction out of his pale hands. “The scent was the same.” He smiled high fiving his companion. “You sure?” the werewolf nodded his head heavily. “So, he did bury the other half of the body on his property?”

“Which means we have proof he killed the girl.”

“I say we use it.” Scott pulled Stiles down the exit hall plotting in their minds their end action plan. “Tell me something first. Are you doing this because you want to stop Derek, or because you want to play in the game, and he said you couldn't?” from the look on the teen’s face to him it was both. He knew he had to stop Derek, but he also wanted to play the game. “There are bite marks on the legs, Stiles! Plus, I think he’s gonna go after (Y/N) next. I mean he has the motive to harm her. She could easily pinpoint were werewolves she’s a risk.” Stiles sighed heavily rubbing his eyes from the sleep building up from the sleepless nights of research. “Dude she might be working with him for all we know. Look let’s just keep this simple for now get Derek in jail and play that game.” Scott nodded his head as the buzzcut boy wrapped his long arms around his shoulder. “we're gonna need a shovel.”

Stiles and Scott spied on Derek as he walked out of the Hale House ruins towards his Camaro. He clutched his mobile phone against his ear smiling brightly with multiple laughs coming from his usual emotionless mouth. “dude see, maybe he actually likes (Y/N).” Scott whispered eavesdropping on the conversation. “are you sure you’re okay with getting yourself there?” he reassured unlocking his car. “I know you said you’d be fine, but I don’t want you having to sit alone at a bar until I get there.” the dark-haired wolf sat comfortably in his seat before shutting the door. “I can’t wait either. I’ll see you tomorrow night Miss Williams.”

As the expensive vehicle left the woods, the duo marched their way to the mound of earth by the side of the chard ruins. “dude, it’s all an act! There’s no way that he has a genuinely nice cell in his body. Hess probably scoping his next target. he’s coming back later to dig a new grave.” The buzz-cut teen grabbed his shovel attacking the ground with the little strength he had buried in his arms. “or maybe it’s the other way round. Maybe she has him right where she wants him to strike. Get hunter of the year for killing the last Hale wolf.”

As they finally finished digging, they found a mud-soaked linen wrap, secured tightly with a twine rope. Scott took a strong whiff sensing the change in the smells around him. “Wait... Something's different.” The once rain-filled grave was now just a wet dog, exactly like the wet rooms at his work.

“Just keep going.”

“What if he comes back?”

“Then we get the hell out of here.”

“What if he catches us?”

“I have a plan for that.”

“ ...Which is?”

“You run one way. I run the other. Whoever he catches first? Too bad.”

“I hate that plan.”

When they both looked down, they saw several twine rope strings poking out of the earth, like little worms wiggling in the dirt. the two knelt down as they brushed the soil away with their bare hands. As Stiles sluggishly untied the bundle struggling with the military-style knots’ “Hurry!” Scott shouted adding nothing to help his friend with the impossible knots. “I'm trying. Did he have to tie the thing in, like, nine hundred knots?” Scott abruptly pushed aside his friend and swiftly finished the job.

“...What the hell is that?” stiles muttered. As the fabric fell to the bottom of the grave, stiles and Scott jumped back in fear. A black, scruffy cut-up wolf revealed itself from the bundle, its dead eyes open almost staring at the two teens. “It's a wolf.” They quickly left the grave panting heavily from the sheer shock of the creature. but before Stiles could ponder any more. “Yeah, I can see that. I thought you said you smelled blood, as in human blood?”

“I told you something was different...”

“This doesn't make sense.”

The Batman and Robin duo worked fast to recover their work, pushing each bit of dirt mud and worm back into place. suddenly, Stiles saw a purple flicker moving gracefully in the wind. “What's wrong?” Scott asked watching his daydreaming companion stare the purple flower down like a criminal. “You see that flower?” he slowly pulled himself from the ground lightly stroking the petals. “I think it's wolfsbane.” The teen pulled the plant from the ground noticing the roots hadn’t settled in the new soil yet. It hadn’t been there long enough to settle. “What's that?”

“Uh... haven't you ever seen The Wolf Man? Lon Chaney, Junior? Claude Rains? The original, classic Werewolf movie? No? You are so unprepared for this.” Stiles quickly clutched the end of the roots inspecting the exact same rope from the bundle attached to the ends. He gradually followed the material trail going round and round the grave in a spiral formation. With a sceptical expression, Scott watched him closely the smell of the flower irritating the wolf’s senses like an itch. Trying to ignore it, the wolf teen looked back down at his devolved brethren squealing at the changed form. The same dirty hair and deathly eyes stared back at him like the night he was turned. “oh!” stiles screamed, joining his friend with an exact terror expression.

Thursday, September 13th

Once again, the two teens watched the Hale house get inspected by the police including Stiles’ own father. The black-haired werewolf glared daggers towards the two as the handcuffs scratched his wrists like thorns. Derek stepped down into the police car finally ending his angered stare. Scott slowly watched Stiles get up from his hiding spot sauntering over like he owned the crime scene. “No!” he growled stiles finally made it to the police car and with a slide of his body he sat down with the criminal.

“Okay, just so you know, I'm not afraid of you.” He breathed. Derek looked up slowly his hard gaze. He knew the teen was lying. He didn’t even have to listen to his heart. The sweat and moving eyes gave it away. ”...Okay, maybe I am. Doesn't matter. I just wanna know something. The girl you killed. She was a Werewolf. She was a different kind, wasn't she? I mean, she could turn herself into an actual wolf, and I know Scott can't do that. Is that why you killed her?”

The older man sighed heavily leaning closer to the cage-like window. “Why are you so worried about me when it's your friend who's the problem? When he shifts on the field, what do you think they're gonna do, huh? Just keep cheering him on. I can't stop him from playing, but you can... And trust me-- you want to.”

Before Stiles could reply to the worrying speech. Suddenly, the energetic teen was pulled out of the vehicle, the grumble of his father entering his ears. “Ow. Ow. Ow.” He pushed his son to the end of the lot the leaves distressed under his dragging feet. ”There. Stand.” He groaned.

“What the hell do you think you're doing???” Noah growled watching his son kick the foliage under him. “I'm just trying to help!”

“Okay, well, how 'bout you help me understand exactly how you came upon this?”

“We were looking for Scott's inhaler...”

“Which he dropped when?”

“The other night...”

“The other night... when you were out here, looking for the first half of the body?”

“Yes.”

“The night that you told me you were alone, and Scott was at home?”

“Yes....No!”

And there it was. The answer Noah was looking for. “Oh, crap...” his child sighed. “So, you lied to me.” Noah exhaled.

“That depends on how you define "lying..."”

“Well, I define it as "not telling the truth." How do you define it?”

“Um... "reclining your body in a horizontal position?"”

“Get the hell out of here.”

“ Absolutely.”

Stiles and Scott sped out of the woods in the battered Jeep, Scott doing whatever he could to find the reason for the wolfsbane at the grave. “I can't find anything about wolfsbane being used for burial.” He sighed locking his phone with a grunt. Something didn’t feel right to the wolf. “Just keep looking. Maybe it's like a ritual or something? Like, maybe they bury you as a wolf.” He chewed on his cheek biting back a snarking comment towards his friend, his rage bubbling. “Or, maybe it's like a special skill, you know? Like, something you have to learn?” Scott rolled his brown eyes. “I'll put it on my "To Do" list, right underneath "figuring out how the hell I'm playing this game tonight."” He growled. Stiles looked swiftly towards his friend watching the golden eyes of his wolf form show through. “Maybe it's different for girl Werewolves... we can look in (Y/N) book when we get back to your place.”

“Okay, stop it!”

The driver slowed the jeep down lightly, Scott panting in the passenger seat worried him greatly. “Stop what?” he muttered worry building up in his body. “Stop saying "Werewolves!" Stop enjoying this so much! Are you okay?”

Scott’s voice grew deeper as he growled a NO towards Stiles, he doubled over with pain, like electricity shocking through his veins. “No, I'm not. I'm so far from being okay.” He felt his fangs and fur grow, cracking and groaning coming from his body. Stiles quickly pulled his bag from the back seat almost having a rare light bulb moment. He pulled out the violet plant from the night before wafting the scent towards the growling teen. “You kept it?” Scott screamed watching the driver pull over with shaking hands. “What was I supposed to do with it???”

As soon as the car was in park, Stiles grabbed his backpack and launched himself out of the Jeep, running toward the edge of the woods and tossing the bag as far as he could throw it to get as much distance away from Scott as possible. He prayed it work not wanting his best friend to lose his control in the middle of the day with joggers, hikers and dog walkers hiding in the woods. Once it was out of eyesight, Stiles pitched his head back and breathed deeply before turning back toward the Jeep with a huff. “Okay, we're good, you can…Scott?”

The werewolf was already gone.

“Scott???”

Panicked, Stiles ended up speeding down the road through the timbers as he called the police on speakerphone. ”Stiles, you know you can't call the dispatch line when I'm on duty.” Dispatch groaned not wanting to hear the latest story from the sheriff’s son. “I just need to know if you've gotten any odd calls...?”

“Odd how?”

“Uh, like, an odd person, or...”

Stiles struggled to produce an example that didn’t channel a werewolf break out. “A dog-like individual roaming the streets...?” The dispatcher, out of patience, put an end to their conversation quickly and sternly. “I'm hanging up on you now.” Stiles, panicked and desperate to find Scott before he hurts somebody, tried to get her to reconsider but the ringing of the hang-up sound stopped his multiple waits from spilling out his mouth. Stiles knew he would be going to Allison. But he hoped he would find him before anything could happen to the young girl.

Noah sat down with a grunt in the interrogation room watching the suspect do the same with his hands still cuffed behind him. “okay Mr. Hale, If you are innocent in all of this then let’s make this as simple as possible. I’m assuming you know the drill in these sorts of interrogations. I ask the questions you answer. Can we get started?” Derek nodded his head with a low Yes sheriff, like a kicked dog. “thank you.”

The sheriff opened up the coffee-coloured file switching on the small desk light that barely had a working bulb. Derek sat with a shaking leg eyeing the time with a deep sigh. “problem Mr hale.” Noah asked taking not of a deep sigh. “no sir just had a date with a really nice girl. I was surpassed to be there right about now.” Noah nodded his head feeling slightly saddened knowing there was a nice girl waiting alone for him possibly thinking she had been stood up. “sorry to hear that. Okay, where were you the night of the murder?”

“I was driving down to beacon hills to follow my sister. She had come down here for some reason. but she didn’t tell me what the reason was. I also wanted to check on my uncle in the hospital.”

“Does your sister have any contact details we can use to get a hold of her?” Derek took a big gulp of air taking the time to process he couldn’t say his sister was alive anymore. He knew he had to get over it quickly, there was too much to worry about to mourn. “that won’t be needed. She’s dead.” He stated holding the emotions waiting to spill from his body. “she is jane doe.” Noah quickly noted down his statement messaging his colleagues the new information so they could act on it. “so, you mean to tell me the legs we have in our morgue are your sisters? And you didn’t think to come to the police with this information?” the wolf rolled his fern green eyes the anger bubbling. “well, it’s not like you guys tracked down the last murderer of my family members. I wonder if it’s the same person that killed Laura that set the fire?”

The snide comment quickly shut Noah up remembering the hale fire like it was yesterday. The smell of burnt flesh would never leave his memory. “if I could go back and redo that entire case I would Derek, but I can’t. I’ve only got what the last sheriff has. But right now, Laura’s case deserves to be closed. Tell me what happened that night.” Derek leant back in his seat the clock ticking and ringing in his ear. He had definitely missed his date with (Y/N). he was gonna have to do something really big to apologise. “I stayed at the motel in town for the night I didn’t see the point in going to find her at night. I woke up the next morning and tried to call her cell, but she didn’t answer. I knew she would either be with our Uncle Peter or at our old house, so I went to the house first. I went for a walk around the woods, and I found two teenagers looking for an inhaler. I gave it to them and went on my way. Next thing I knew I was looking down at my chopped-up big sister on the ground. Like roadkill.”

Derek took a slow and deep breath taming the monster dripping out slightly. “I saw nobody else other than your annoying son and his even more annoying friend. I didn’t see anyone. I took her and I buried her. I assumed she got attacked by a mountain lion in the woods. Our mum always told us to not play in the woods alone. I guess she forgot the rules.” The sheriff finally finished taking notes circling in his own personal notebook to ground Stiles when he got off work. “well, Mr. Hale, I’m gonna need some DNA and ill have to keep you in overnight. Standard procedure. I’m sorry.”

As the other police took Derek to his cell for the night Noah continued inspecting his mobile phone. He skimmed through the few contacts noting his usual contact was the care facility in the hospital and the contact under the label Miss Williams. He clicked the contact number copying it number by number into his own phone before he put the phone to his ear his orbs shot up in shock. The contact had changed to (Y/N)’s saved contact. He quickly hung up.

(Y/N) sat worriedly, Dressed in her best clothes. a navy-blue velvet dress layered with multiple layers of blue, black fishnets and black boots. Her hair was up wrapped in a matching colour bandana and large constellation earrings dangling from her lobes. “another drink miss?” the bartender asked sensing the sadness radiating off the young woman. “no need I’m heading out.” She muttered paying her tab and quickly necking her shot. “if a guy comes in asking about me tell him to take a hike.” As she sauntered through the bar ignoring the catcalls and whistles from the drunk creeps she slammed the door with a sigh, forcing the tears back in her eyes.

(Y/N) finally made it home locking her front door, leaving Derek’s leather jacket inside her car in shame. She left used and played like a puppy on a lead following its owner. She knew she was new to romance, love and anything to do with dating. But she knew it wasn’t meant to feel like that. Like someone had stabbed a dagger through her heart and twisted it. she slumped down on the sofa grabbing hold of the surgical equipment by her coffee table with a grunt, she place the needle inside her skin sighing as she felt her blood oozing from the new wound.

She knew she had to stop sooner or later, but she had a duty, and it was a duty she was happy to do. for her family. It was a distraction. A big cloud over her head to mask the events of the night. (Y/N) looked towards the moonlight peaking between her voiles, the night sky finishing her state of bliss and within a minute of her head hitting the back of the furniture she drifted into a slumber, With no date in sight.

Friday, September 15th

Dressed in his lacrosse uniform Scott hung up his bookbag in his locker when his superhuman senses started flaring once again, allowing him to hear the various noises in the locker room with complete clarity. This included the sound of Jackson and another player whispering to each other, though their words were still difficult to make out to the wolf with the added sounds, such as the locker doors slamming shut and equipment thumping against each other. Scott turned to look at them to try to eavesdrop.

“ ...McCall...”

“ ...only defence...”

“ ...not McCall...”

Jackson looked over to see Scott looking at them, and Scott, feeling caught, looked back at his book bag and tried to keep their conversation out of his mind. He reluctantly grabbed his pads and sat on the bench to put on his shin guards, looking back over at Jackson and the others talking, only to be distracted by the sight of Stiles, who smiled when they make eye contact. “ You gonna try to convince me not to play?” he grumbled. “I just hope you know what you're doing...”

“If I don't play, I lose first line and Allison.” He interrupted. This statement made Stiles a little wound up, and he replied in a loud tone of voice. “Allison's not going anywhere... and it's one game that you really don't need to play.”

“I wanna play!” Stiles looked at him as though to say, "Really?" as Scott continued his rant of rage. “I wanna be on the team. I wanna go out with Allison. I want a semi-freaking normal life! Do you get that?” Scott, embarrassed by how dramatic he was being, looked down at the floor, and Stiles sighed before sitting down next to him on the bench, his knees facing the opposite direction from Scott's. “Just try not to worry too much while you're out there, okay?” Stiles considered his own words for a moment before adding onto them. “Or get too angry...”

“I got it.”

“Or stressed...”

“ Yeah, I got it.”

“Don't think about Allison being in the stands...” Scott looked up slightly as he began to actually think about Allison being in the stands, against Stiles' instructions. “or that her father's trying to kill you... or that Derek's trying to kill you... or the girl he killed... or that you might kill (Y/N)...” Scott looked at him with an offended expression, but Stiles was on a roll and didn’t immediately notice. “if a Hunter doesn't kill you first-“ Stiles finally saw the hurt and angry look on Scott's face and instantly ended that train of thought. “I'm sorry. I'll stop. Good luck...?”

As the bleachers filled with people (Y/N) followed Melissa down the steps eyeing teenagers and parents so she didn’t step on anyone or anything. “you know you still haven’t told me what happened last night?” Melissa spoke dropping her body down on a seat, hugging her coat for warmth against the bitter cold. “not much to tell I got ditched.” (Y/N) sighed joining her. “he seemed so sweet too. He fixed my car, took me for coffee heck he even called me the night before to make sure we were still on. Who the fuck does that to someone.” (Y/N) took a deep breath as the teams rushed out onto the field. “sorry I’m ranting when we should be watching Scott.” Melissa looked towards the goth girl; her painted eyes full of sorrow. “don’t be silly. Your hurt. I mean from what you told me he seemed like a catch.” She smiled lightly remembering his charming grin and forest scent. “yeah well… I guess it was all bullshit.” As the whistle blew for game on the two women turned towards the field.

“Set!” the ref blew his whistle, and the players set off into the first play of the game, with Jackson easily scooping up the ball and making his way down the field. Scott and the rest of the starting teammates followed him to back him up. Scott ran quickly down the field and held up his stick to indicate to Jackson that he was open for a pass, but instead, he passed.

on the bench, Stiles continued to anxiously gnaw on his lacrosse glove as he watched the game progress, groaning when Scott was clearly purposely ignored by his teammates. “Mm, come on!” ignoring Scott once again, each teammate passed to another player that was guarded rather than Scott, who was wide open; the player missed the catch, and a member of the opposing team caught it instead and ran in the opposite direction down the field, leaving a frustrated Scott holding his arms out in a huff... melissa looked at her only child worried. “I hope he’s okay.” (Y/N) muttered.

Beacon Hills managed to get the ball again, with a player catching the ball and passing it back to Jackson. However, Jackson slipped from concentration causing the ball to fall out of the net on his lacrosse stick. Scott's eyes widen in surprise when he saw the ball had fallen onto the grass nearby, and he realized he had a chance to grab it and actually participate in the game finally. However, Jackson clocked onto Scott’s plan making a B-line for the ball.

Just as Scott was about to reach the ball, Jackson caught up with him and shoved him aside hard so that he was able to regain possession of the ball once again. Scott hit the ground with enough force that he rolled across the field. Melissa gasped and covered her mouth with her hands in shock and sympathy as (Y/N) carried on watching with annoyance. It was clear the other teammates were bullying him on the field. and there was nothing either her or Melissa could do. Scott looked furious as he watched Jackson launch the ball into the net, scoring the first goal of the game. His goal.

The crowd in the bleachers started to stand and cheer, while Stiles watched apprehensively, afraid that the unfair treatment towards Scott would cause him to inadvertently shift on the field. Coach, however, was thrilled by the fact that they scored the first goal of the game and screamed from the side-lines, completely ignoring his job as a teacher to stop bullying. So, no different than usual. “That's it, Jackson! Get fired up! Fired up!” Jackson high-fived one of his fellow teammates when he caught Scott's eye from downfield and smirked, leaving Scott looking deflated. On the bench, Stiles saw this exchange and sighed deeply and dramatically before muttering under his breath “No...”

Lydia was excitedly cheering in the bleachers, and Allison was smiling and trying to keep up with the game as well. Lydia turned to Allison and grabbed her by the wrist as she tried to hype up her friend. She picked up a sign she made and had her new friend help her hold it up. The sign read "WE LUV U JACKSON" in black and red letters. A typical popular girl is mad for her asshole boyfriend. “WOOOOOO!” Scott saw Allison cheering Jackson on from the field and immediately got jealous, which didn’t escape Stiles' eyes. Stiles grimaced and muttered under his breath again. “Brutal...” Scott was staring at Allison with a look that seemed both betrayed and hurt, and Stiles immediately got a bad feeling, especially when he saw Scott grit his growing teeth and ran back onto the field. “Oh, this is not gonna be good...”

In the middle of the field, Jackson, Danny, and several other players are huddled together to whisper to each other. “Only to me,” Jackson ordered puffing his chest out like the top dog he portrayed himself to be. Danny scoffed, not understanding the point of this petty behaviour. But who was he to question his captain? “But what if he's open?” Jackson gave Danny a hard look as Scott eavesdropped on his plotting. “Who's the captain? You, or me?” Danny, wanting Jackson to see sense, pleaded with his best friend. “Jackson, come on, dude. I just wanna win-“

“We will win.” Danny continued to argue, but Jackson cut him off. ”What did I say?” Jackson got into Danny's face to emphasize his point. “Huh? What. Did. I. Say?” Danny, realizing Jackson was not going to budge and that they were wasting time, finally conceded to Jackson's demands and sighed. “Don't pass to McCall.”

Jackson thumped Danny hard in the chest with his gloved hand before they scattered to their various positions on the field. Scott was still standing several yards away from where they were huddled together, distracted by what he had just heard. After a moment, Scott's eyes flash gold, and he straightened his helmet with a determined expression before running to get into position. Scott crouched in position with his head down, a low growling noise coming out of his drooling mouth, where his fangs seem to be extended. The referee frowned in concern and confusion as he looked over to Scott. “You okay, kid?”

Scott, unable to talk out of fear of further transforming, simply nodded his head. Jackson caught their brief encounter and watched him curiously for a long moment, especially when the referee, who had walked to the centre of the field, turned back to give Scott one last confused look. A player from the other team looked at Scott warily from behind him, clearly disturbed by the low growling sound that continued to come from Scott's throat to the point where he backed up several paces to put some space between them. “what’s wrong with Scott?” (Y/N) muttered noticing everything that he was doing. The panting the grunting, his hot breath pooling around his helmet like he was on fire. “I have no idea.” Stiles wrapped his hands around his neck before anxiously rubbing his neck, becoming more unsure of his plan to allow Scott to play by the moment and wondering if maybe Derek might have been right to keep Scott off the field. he didn’t like admitting that.

Scott looked back over once again at his brown-eyed girlfriend, and even though it was obvious to everyone else that Allison was only holding the sign for Lydia, Scott's eyes flashed gold for a brief second before he clenched his jaw and returned his attention to the game.

“Down! Set!”

The players all got into position, and when the ref blew the whistle, the game began once again. Scott skilfully dodged the three players from the opposing team who tried to tackle him, keeping hold of the ball the entire time. Scott continued to duck, weave, and spin around the other players at a speed that is very quick for a human but not obviously supernatural. In the stands, Allison's eyes widened when she saw him prepare to shoot his shot, and the crowd went wild when Scott easily threw the ball into the goal. Melissa and (Y/N) jumped up and down excitedly. “YEAH!!!!!”

“McCall! Pass. To. McCall!” the coach shouted. On the field, Jackson was furious and clenched his jaw tightly, making it obvious that he was unhappy with the attention being on Scott. The referee stepped up to the two players in the standoff for possession of the ball “Set!” The ref blew his whistle, and the two players’ stalemate once snatched it. Unfortunately for the player, he got right into Scott's line of sight and was horrified when he saw Scott, whose eyes are blazing yellow of sunlight and fangs were out as he growled menacingly under his breath. Scared, the player weakly tossed the ball, which Scott caught easily, causing the team to cheer as he ran toward the Beacon Hills team's goal.

Stiles, still on the bench, continued to gnaw on the finger of one of his gloved hands when Coach, dumbfounded by this turn of events, sat down next to the buzzcut teen with a confused expression. “Did the opposing team just deliberately pass us the ball?” the teacher asked shocked. “Yes, I believe so, Coach.” Scott rushed down the field, ducking to avoid the blows from the opposing players and deftly zigzagging out of their way. Coach smiled wryly, though Stiles was still extremely anxious about how Scott seemed to be walking a very fine line in terms of controlling his lycanthropy. His mother and co-worker looked beyond confused the once stuttering, accident-prone boy was now racing through the field like a cheetah in the savannah.

Scott took his shot, throwing the ball so hard that it busted right through the net of an opposing player's lacrosse stick net and hit the goal like a blazing comet. The score was now 5-5 with thirty-nine seconds to spare in the final quarter. In the stands, everyone was standing and cheering with their arms in the air, and even Allison’s emotionless father couldn’t help but be impressed, especially when he saw how excited Allison was compared to her old nervous mousy self. But something didn’t seem right about the boy hopelessly in love with his little girl. Or maybe there was something about him that interested the secret hunter. “Goal! YES! YES! There you go!”

Suddenly, Scott looked panicked as he stood in the middle of the field, barely concealing the fact that his eyes are changing from chocolate to honey. “There you go, McCall!” The coach from the opposing team came over and lightly smacked Coach Finstock's shoulder with the back of his hand to get his attention, making it clear that he thought to think this last goal should count. Coach Finstock, exasperated, scoffed and argued against him waving his arms around. “What? The ball's in the net.” He laughed. Behind him, Stiles echoed Coach Finstock's sentiment. “Ball's in the net!” The coach blew his whistle; they agreed that the goal was fair. Scott, still panicking, got into position in the middle of the field as the referee once again set up the standoff between Jackson and a player from the opposing team. “Down!”

As Jackson and the other player locked eyes, the opposing player couldn’t help but question him. ”hey, what the hell's up with your teammate, man? What's he on?” Jackson frowned clearly unhappy about Scott's excellent performance despite his best efforts to keep him from having an active role in the game. He knew he was being challenged by the team. Scott was becoming the top dog and Jackson defiantly didn’t like this new dynamic. “I don't know...” Jackson considered his words and muttered a clarifying remark under his breath. “Yet.”

“Set!” Jackson and the opposing player crouch down to stand off for possession of the ball, which ended with the latter winning and running down the field. However, he accidentally dropped the ball, which Scott scooped up before running the other way. However, his vision turned crimson as the transformation into his Werewolf self took over, forcing Scott to use the very limited control he still had to try to keep himself away from the other players. he froze in place, unsure of what to do next as he growled under his breath at a volume that seemed to be steadily increasing. Stiles, who had been closely watching Scott the entire game, stood up to get a better look. “No, no... Scott, no, no!”

The clock showed that there were seventeen more seconds left in the game, and the opposing players were surrounding Scott like prey. Melissa had her hands clasped with (Y/N)’s both women muttering hopes for the teen. “Come on, come on, come on...” Behind her, Allison was also staring at her boyfriend intensely as she quietly cheered him on. “You can do it, Scott. You can do it, Scott.” Allison's murmured encouragement caused Scott's sensitive superhuman hearing to lock in on her. “You can do it, Scott...” Allison's voice seemed to bring Scott back to himself enough to realize that there were only seven seconds left in the game and counting.

The goalie seemed terrified by the sight of Scott staring at him with his intense buttery eyes, and just as two other players from the other team started rushing toward Scott from each side, Scott twisted at the waist and put all of his strength into tossing the ball toward the goal, which flew with such force that the goalie dodged it rather than trying to catch it. The referee blew his whistle just as the buzzer sounded, leading all of the supporters of the Beacon Hills Cyclones to leap to their feet and cheer ecstatically, thrilled to see the final score was 6:5 with Beacon Hills winning the game. All because of animal rage. Stiles jumped up with his arms raised in the air, “Yes! Ha!” Stiles lowered his arms and sighed in relief that the game managed to end in a win without Scott hurting or killing anyone. Jackson would have been fine but anyone else would have been very bad for the energetic teen.

“Oh, my God!” Scott was still standing in the middle of the field, seemingly dumbstruck by the fact that he had just won the game. he's finally brought himself back to reality when he suddenly dropped his stick with a clang. He stripped his right hand from his glove to find that, despite his eyes and teeth returning to normal, his fingernails were extending into claws, indicating that he was losing control once again. Not wanting to expose his secret to the crowd, he made a beeline toward the locker rooms.

excited to congratulate Scott on a job well done, Allison jumped down from the bench. She looked around in an effort to find him, and her smile dimmed slightly in confusion when she watched him running toward the school. her father, having just made it to the side-lines, stopped and watched with interest as Scott ran away, continuing to do so as Allison rushed after Scott to see what was going on, a suspicious and curious expression forming on his face.

Stiles was still seated on the bench, albeit by himself, as he continued to relax now that the danger of Scott turning and exposing himself as a Werewolf had seemingly passed. Hopefully. However, behind him in the now-abandoned bleachers, the sheriff was on the phone with someone. “Uh-huh.” Melissa and (Y/N) looked around for Scott confused about his disappearance. The young goth girl clutched her picnic basket full of celebratory goodies with a sigh. “stiles!” she called gaining the attention of the boy. “where’s Scott?” stiles shrugged his shoulders turning back to his father as he finished his phone call.

“Dad, what's wrong?”

Melissa and (Y/N) wandered back towards the car park still confused as to where Scott had gone. “don’t worry Mel, I’m sure he’s just out hiding with his new girlfriend.” She joked nudging her friend to try and make her smile. “oh god. I wanted him to come home with a trophy, not a pregnant teenager.” With a bright red blush forming (Y/N) shoved the baked treats into the nurse’s arms as she laughed. “don’t be silly. He’s a good kid and you know it. I’m gonna head home for the night.” Melissa nodded her head taking a sniff of the pastries and cakes. “at least save one for Scott.” She shouted as she walked towards her car with a giggle. As she bent down to unlock her car, a figure watched her from the stand, feeling the sadness radiating off her heart.

Derek couldn’t have felt more guilty about what he had done. If he had just trusted the police to do their job, he would have had the girl of his dreams smiling and laughing with him. now all he had was a heartbroken girl who he knew would not want to hear or see him for now. But he would come back. He couldn’t let her go. To him, she was a rare jewel. A diamond among glass. Her dark-coloured clothing and makeup covered a rainbow of personality inside her. but it also shadowed secrets he wanted to unveil. He slowly turned his attention back to the field as the captain of the winning team bent down to grab Scott’s abandoned glove. Derek’s shadowy figure spooked Jackson locking eyes with a serious stare and a panicked one staring back. The beta male pulled away from the field following the night mist into the woods.

The drive back to her home seemed longer than normal as the local radio dragged on. The news of the lacrosse win switched quickly to the weather, (Y/N) turned it up excitedly. “the next few days we expect a heavy thunderstorm to blow over beacon hills we recommend people stay inside and out the open fields. Other than that, enjoy the lightning and have a good night and we’ll be back at 6 am tomorrow.” (Y/N) smiled brightly at the news. As much as she hated electricity. The lightning would be a great distraction, from the dark-haired man she thought was the one.

[agendergorgon]

Worm Crisis Protocol: Bring Your Sun to Work Day

Trying to keep up my enthusiasm for this fan project (gonna adapt most of Worm's heroes and villains (mostly villains) to Marvel: Crisis Protocol's rules) long enough for me and my darling @nashoid to finally round out the Undersiders and Travellers and start playtesting. For any Marvel fans what don't know what a Worm is, a Worm is a novel of superheroic shenaniganry amid dire and worsening surroundings, and a Sundancer is a former ballet dancer and MOBA player who now controls and conjures a Small Sun. Accordingly I have taken every chance to write the words Small Sun in her rules box possible. Its a teaser for Sundancer because I like how her rules came out and I owe Colossal Mistake, author of acclaimed Worm fanfic The Great Escape, for failing to deliver any fics starring her.

Art by creator-crash here on tumblr. Sundancer and the rest of her team, The Travellers, are gonna be focusing on positioning and throwing terrain, (they'll also all have a Q, W, E and R because I'm still playing way too much DOTA myself) though Sundancer only cares about one piece of terrain: her Small Sun. In the average tabletop wargame terrain is something that blocks line of sight and maybe frustrates your ability to move. Terrain in Marvel Crisis Protocol is expendable ammunition, destroyed by either being thrown into people or having people thrown into it. Sundancer's Small Sun is a little piece of terrain she brings with her that sticks around, getting bigger and more dangerous as a thrown implement as the game goes on, though the cost of moving or recreating it goes up too. Strengths wise, thanks to her Immunity to the Incinerate special condition, Sundancer can comfortably sit around her Small Sun, though she'll still take damage if you pick it up and throw it right back at her. Then again, so will anyone daft enough to pick up and throw a Small Sun. The debuff she applies around the sun within a distance of Crosshairs 2 (Marvel Crisis Protocol uses proprietary measuring tools, Crosshairs 2 is about 4 inches when you're playing (rules/guides for how to play MCP at home without proprietary dice or measures is gonna be included in whatever full release I do)) reduces the opponent's defence, and as long as they're still sat next to a Small Sun they're not getting rid of that debuff. Powerful area denial through hostile architecture. Weakness wise, while Sundancer's Energy Defence (Little Yellow Swirly Thing in the top left) is bloody good, her defences against Red Fists or Blue Eyeballs are decidedly average. Her attacks are also below par for a character of her Threat Level (little wibbly thing below the Blue Eyeball defence). Add in a lack of any Superpowers to mitigate the damage she takes and she'll need some friends to occupy the enemy and help keep her Small Sun where it can shine. Though speaking of friends, Sundancers' fellow Travellers include Ballistic; a lumbering lad who can accellerate anything he touches to comical speeds, and Tricker; a devious little magician who can swap any two objects or people's positions, so one can imagine her team is going to have lots of ways to make sure people get a nice healthy tan going. Any thoughts on what characters you'd like to see do let us know, I have no clue how much interest this daft little project is going to have but I am very much enjoying the process.

[thommi-tomate]

Holger Badstuber Column

Hello football fans!

New Year's Eve is just around the corner and the Bundesliga presents us with a few nice surprises when we look at the table. Bayer 04 Leverkusen with coach Xabi Alonso in first place, VfB Stuttgart in third, Union Berlin close to the relegation zone, BVB 15 points behind the leaders - I watched a lot of games, I was at the Allianz Arena and visited my former club in Stuttgart.

I've seen good football, exciting football, thrilling football. This season offers much of what I have loved about this sport for decades. Time for an interim assessment with four highlights and three weak points, and of course I won't let the championship prediction get away from me. How do you think the race for the championship will go? You can read my assessment in the text below. First the highlights.

Leverkusen enjoys winning

First place for Leverkusen is no surprise in principle. Coach Xabi Alonso's team plays consistently and has not yet been defeated. The style of play is clear, structured, sometimes ruthless. It's well-rounded, harmonious. It shows me that the coach's idea is being implemented consistently.

What's more, they have slowly taken a liking to winning. They're really up for it! That makes them extra dangerous for the competition. With his skills, Florian Wirtz stands out for me among a number of top players such as Boniface, Xhaka, Hofmann, Frimpong and Grimaldo.

The star, however, remains Alonso. As a player, he used to have everything under control on the six, but now he has managed to impart his knowledge as a coach. He combines competence with authority. Xabi Alonso will be coaching a really big team sooner rather than later.

Soothing calm in the Bayern environment

The leak at Säbener Strasse seems to have been plugged. Hardly any disagreements or disputes have been reported. For the club, this is a welcome development after the constant unrest surrounding the club in recent years

A number of positions have been filled - the decision to bring Christoph Freund on board as sports director was absolutely the right one. He is a good man with a good eye for talent and experience in developing players. Together with coach Thomas Tuchel, whom I hold in high esteem, I trust him to set up a framework that is Bayern-like again. The seed has been sown.

Harry Kane: More than a 9

25 goals in 22 competitive games, plus eight assists: WOW, what a record! What makes Harry Kane so valuable is his versatility. Compared to Robert Lewandowski, for example, Kane is not "just" a goalscorer, but also a ten-man who often plays the decisive final ball.

Kane combines the numbers 9 and 10, which is what makes him so dangerous, he also lets himself drop at times and is therefore less tangible for defenders. Every cent of this immense investment has already paid off for FC Bayern. I can only congratulate him once again on this transfer.

VfB Stuttgart: A very strong block

I once experienced how much the region lives and shakes when VfB plays, both as an active professional and as a guest in the stadium this season. These fans, this club and its environment deserve a stable season. The people in charge speak with one voice, the squad has been super strengthened in terms of positions with Stiller, Mittelstädt and Undav. Coach Sebastian Hoeneß has established a gallant power football that perfectly suits this dynamic club.

The players also look fresh and fit. With keeper Nübel, the back four and the two back sixes, there is a very strong block, a real unit. That creates consistency and reliability and, last but not least, defensive balance. I hope that VfB don't lose any top players in the winter and simply see the season through in this constellation. Then at least fifth place is certain!

Squad gaps at FCB: Transfers are needed for titles

First of all, a big compliment from me to Aleksandar Pavlovic. I liked what I saw of him. He has potential. He'll get his chance to really gain a foothold at Bayern in the future. But he's not the solution to achieve the goals now. Experience is the trump card in this position.

If FCB still want to win titles, which I logically assume they will, they need to bring in quality reinforcements in the winter. A physically strong, tall, simple-playing six-man and a right-back are urgently needed. To a certain extent, the season hinges on the winter transfer window. I can't say whether Bayern will be able to close the gaps in the squad. We'll have to be surprised.

Too fast, too much at Union

It's a bit of a shame, but it was also a bit predictable. Triple the workload, mixing it up with transfers, that's what messed up the team. It even got to the point where coach Urs Fischer had to go.

I didn't expect that and that Union would slip so far down the table. I still like the club, it has established itself in the Bundesliga with a well thought-out style of play and unity. Recently, it seemed as if the "Irons" had regained their composure. Please keep it up!

Köln's fall from grace

It had already become apparent in the summer that coach Steffen Baumgart's energy-sapping philosophy was continuing to wear thin. Added to this were crucial departures such as Ellyes Skhiri. Now the team has not only lost its greed, but also its balance. The quality is no longer sufficient.

Baumgart is now gone and his successor will not get any new players because the International Court of Arbitration for Sport has confirmed FIFA's ban on transfers for two transfer periods. Fear of relegation is rampant in Cologne - and rightly so.

And who will be champion?

In January, many professionals from the Bundesliga will be at the Africa Cup and the Asian Championships. One team that will be particularly hard hit is Bayer 04 Leverkusen. They could be missing up to six players. At Bayern, Minjae Kim and Noussair Mazraoui are likely to be traveling. Eric Maxim Choupo-Moting was surprisingly not nominated for Cameroon's national team.

Depending on which team compensates better for the losses, the second half of the season will start with a boost. There will be a duel between Leverkusen and Bayern right up to the last matchday. But FC Bayern will always be my favorite to win the championship.

[ts1989fanatic]

A man has declared Taylor Swift a bad role model. Why? Because she's unmarried and childless

A misogynistic Newsweek piece about Taylor Swift’s unwholesomeness has been doing the rounds on social media. It’s dangerous, offensive and outdated, says Claire Cohen

Is Newsweek ok? The magazine has just published an article explaining why ‘Taylor Swift is not a good role model’, the argument for which boils down to — and this is a direct quote — the fact that “at 34, Swift remains unmarried and childless.” A spinster, if you will.

Excuse me, while I just reset my phone calendar from 2024 to 1954.

The article was written by a man — those famous experts on good female role models — who argues that, having dated “at least a dozen men”, the singer isn’t “wholesome” enough to set an example. Basically, she’s a slut. I haven’t checked yet, but I assume there’s also a free chastity belt with every issue,

“While Swift's musical talent and business acumen are certainly admirable, even laudable, we must ask if her personal life choices are ones we want our sisters and daughters to emulate,” writes John Mac Ghlionn, which astonishingly is not a pseudonym used by Andrew Tate. Phew. Thank goodness someone has finally said it. After all, what sane person would want their daughter or sister to be a strong, wildly successful, independent woman who doesn’t feel any pressure to have married by 34? Who has donated enough money to UK foodbanks to cover their bills for an entire year? Heaven forbid!

As role models go (and being on a pedestal is a tough gig) she's blazing a trail: standing up for LGBTQ+ rights, taking a man who groped her to court and winning, boycotting Apple Music until it agreed to pay royalties to all artists during the platform's trial period, refusing to be controlled by re-recording her own albums when she was refused to chance to buy the rights herself, speaking honestly about her eating disorder, condemning bullying, admitting she's been as insecure about female friendship as the rest of us. If that can't be filed under "wholesome", what can?

“This is not an attack on Swift; it's a valid question that is worth asking,” continues the self-appointed arbiter of women’s behaviour (funny how it’s always men who leap to take on that role). “This cycle of brief, intense relationships can unintentionally glamorise a type of romantic promiscuity where partners can be replaced as easily as toilet paper.”

Which, funnily enough, is exactly how I’d like to use this outdated, offensive piece of so-called journalism.

It positions a woman’s worth in terms of her duty towards men and sends us back to an era in which we were little more than walking wombs

Some have called it desperate. I’d say dangerous. To claim that Swift’s power as a role model is diminished by those mediaeval metrics is pure misogyny. It positions a woman’s worth in terms of her duty towards men and sends us back to an era in which we were little more than walking wombs.

All together now: under his eye.

To claim that Swift’s power as a role model is diminished by those mediaeval metrics is pure misogyny

Perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised that we’re still living in an era in which men are able to publicly chastise women for not being chained to the kitchen. After all, it was only in May that NFL player Harrison Butker gave his charming speech, to a room filled with female graduates, telling them to embrace being ‘homemakers’ and that being a mother was their most important role. Leave earning money to the man, there’s a good girl.

As a harpy who dared to have several different boyfriends in her 20 and 30s, and was “unmarried and childless” at 34, I’m nonetheless going to go out on a limb and say that domestic bliss isn’t the sole happily-ever-after we should be selling young women. And it is something that women specifically are told they should aspire to. Perhaps I’m wide off the mark, and Newsweek is at this very moment lining up an article on why Harry Styles is a terrible role model to young boys for exactly those reasons. But, somehow, I can’t quite see it.

IS HARRY STYLES ALSO A BAD ROLE MODEL BECAUSE HE’S UNMARRIED AND CHILDLESS?

And no doubt if Swift was married with children, she’d be criticised for leaving her family at home while she selfishly went on tour and accused of emasculating her husband by being the breadwinner.

The whole thing is from the same playbook that belittles Swift’s fans as though they’re in the grip of some Victorian hysteria; irrational and shallow. Liking her music is looked down on by those who consider themselves arbiters of what’s culturally ‘good enough’, in the same way as romantic literature by women is written-off as mere ‘chick lit’. It’s misogyny hiding behind having ‘good taste’, just as the Newsweek article is misogyny masquerading concern for the loss of some old-fashioned moral code.

Look, I’m sure Taylor isn’t exactly weeping over this drivel while counting the billion dollars she’s made from the Eras tour. But she and her fans deserve better than this retrograde rubbish. Because I can’t think of anything more “wholesome” than bringing together thousands of women and girls every night, united in joy, to sing songs about not settling for a life that makes you unhappy.

Taylor Swift not a good role model? She’s a bloody great one.

[tobiasdrake]

Rating Danganronpa 2 Characters on the Fight Me, Bruh Scale

And now for the other chart. Following up on this one I made for DR1, let's see how DR2's characters measure up on a scale of how confident I am that I could beat them in a fight. Starting from most to least confident.

Teruteru Hanamura He stops fighting to make a sensual comment about how sexy my foot is as I'm punting him across the room. I win the fight easily but I feel gross about it for the rest of the day, so who really won here?

Kazuichi Soda Kazuichi doesn't have a fighter's instinct in him. He's going to flinch away from the first punch I throw and that will be the end of the fight. Unless Sonia's nearby. Then he's going to do something incredibly stupid to try and impress her, and give me plenty of openings. Either way, Kazuichi goes down like a chump. He's better with a wrench than a punch.

Hiyoko Saionji Hiyoko is all bark, no bite. Like all bullies, she's forced to pick on people weaker than her. Her favorite hobby is stomping on bugs because they can't fight back. Even taking into account that we're talking full-grown Hiyoko and not Simulation Hiyoko, I don't imagine her putting up much of a fight.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu I feel pretty good about my chances of punting this little shrimp so long as he's not carrying a knife on him. But he's yakuza. He's definitely carrying a knife on him. Also his bodyguard would dice me before I got within ten feet of him. I can win this fight only under very controlled circumstances.

Chiaki Nanami She seems harmless but I'm about 50% certain that she can perform the Satsui No Hado if I piss her off so it's probably best I don't take my chances. Plus she's an emotional therapybot so it's more likely that we wind up exploring the deep-seated emotional trauma pushing me to fight than actually fighting.

Mikan Tsumiki Mikan's more dangerous than you might think. She has a strong understanding of anatomy which means she knows exactly what nerves to sever and might have a knife on her for self-defense. However, she's just as likely to trip and accidentally fall into a compromising position, abruptly ending the fight in a fit of embarrassing uncomfortableness. So, yes, I think my best chance of winning this fight is an embarrassing anime pratfall.

Ultimate Imposter A lot is going to depend on who he's impersonating but you know this cheeky bastard's going to show up to the fight as me, right? But I'm a narcissist so I don't know if I can beat up me. I might wind up holding back reflexively, and that's going to give him all kinds of openings.

Hajime Hinata Assuming he's not rocking his Izuru Kamukura powers, you might think Hajime's a pushover like the aggressively non-violent Makoto. You'd be mistaken. According to Nekomaru, he's got the spirit of a rugby player in him. His training regimen consists of 500 laps around the island, 1,000 push-ups, 1,000 situps, and a 36 mile swim - with Nekomaru's sensual massages to keep him going.

He may not look it, but Hajime's got the footwork and the power of an incredible pro athlete, and he will mess me up.

Sonia Nevermind Like Mikan, she looks harmless but you are a fool to mistake her for it. Sonia has undergone extensive military training which means she's an expert in CQC. I don't think she carries a knife on her, but she is on good terms with the Four Dark Devas of Destruction so there's a non-zero chance I wind up having my ears chewed off by hamsters while she kindly prepares tea.

Ibuki Mioda She has no clearly defined characteristics as a fighter but she's manic and unpredictable. Her natural default state is "Just downed six energy drinks and now I'm so wired that I can see time". She's three punches ahead before I even know what the fuck just came out of her mouth. There's no coming out on top of this.

Nekomaru Nidai Physically the strongest fighter on the island, Nekomaru is the Sakura Ogami of DR2. Tougher fighters than me have tried and failed.

Akane Owari Speaking of which. This might be a surprising placement, ranking Akane above Nekomaru. But I have my reasons for that. Nekomaru is demonstrably a stronger fighter than Akane, but as long as this isn't a deathmatch, he's got a sense of sportsmanship about it. He's going to try and bring out the best in me, and he may hold back to attempt to tutor me. He might give me openings that could let me gain the upper hand from time to time.

Akane isn't trying to push me to excel. She's fighting to win. She's going balls to the wall from the word go, and she will eviscerate me.

Peko Pekoyama Are you joking? Are you actually joking right now? Literally her Talent, the thing Hope's Peak accredited her for, is how good she is at killing suckers like me with a deadly weapon? Hahaha nope. Hahaha. Hahahahahahaha.

Gundham Tanaka It would be humiliating to lose a fight to this dork. What, he's going to leave me writhing on the ground from a thousand furry hamster bites while the Supreme Overlord of Ice delivers his D&D nerd speech? Yes. Yes, he is. That is exactly what is going to happen, and my pride as a fighter will never recover.

Nagito Komaeda "Nagito's going to be an easy fight because he'll lose on purpose." No, you fool! You misunderstand the nature of Nagito. A far more dangerous man than anyone realizes, especially himself. Nagito will try to throw the fight. And he will fail. I don't want to find out what that looks like from my perspective.

Mahiru Koizumi There is not actually a way to throw a punch at Mahiru without coming across like a violent bastard beating up a defenseless young woman. A fact that she will point out the moment the fight begins, successfully shaming me into putting down my fists and walking away. This is not her fight to win; Only mine to lose, and lose it I do from the moment I even try to start one.

[seedlessmuffins]

after 2 nights, 8 playoff games, 16 teams in various states of preparation for playoff hockey, many controversies and somehow finding the time to watch at least two periods of every game, i have my analysis of every game 1 of the stanley cup playoffs. these are just general thoughts, theres no possible way i could do detailed positional analysis when there were multiple games going on at the same time. i did my best, i hope you enjoy!

NIGHT ONE

carolina hurricanes vs new york islanders, 2-1

game at a glance: clean, traditional hockey

this was the first game i watched, and it was a good way to start of this year's playoffs! it wasn't the most exciting game, but the hurricanes were playing good, clean hockey with beautiful passing and heavy possession, the isles couldn't get the puck away for long enough to have many high danger chances. the canes defense, especially burns, had such a good night, which was good because raanta had a truly bad bounce. isles forwards were ghosts, they didn't produce anything of note, and shoutout to the canes' sebastian aho who scored the first game of the playoffs! the crowd in carolina was great, very loud, they were very optimistic and cheered for most of the plays, which obviously gave the canes lots of energy! definitely a good way to start!

boston bruins vs florida panthers, 3-1

game at a glance: expectations of greatness

after a historic regular season, anything short of winning the cup is a failure for this boston team. so much so, in fact, that the crowd was chanting "we want the cup" at the end of the third period. there's not much to say about this game, because boston is everything in hockey maximized to be the best it can be, and even missing their captain they played a remarkable game of hockey that was frankly a joy to watch. ullmark in boston's net was outstanding as he has been this season, and lyon in florida's net wasn't, which was to be expected. the crowd was in a celebratory mood, as if this game was a victory lap for the bruins. they can't get to comfortable, but this was fun hockey to watch and i thoroughly enjoyed every second of the two periods i tuned in to.

dallas stars vs minnesota wild, 2-3 (second overtime)

game at a glance: the powder keg exploded

this is a series that i thought would be boring, as neither team is known for super exciting hockey. boy was i wrong, this series i think is one of the most exciting for me right now. score was pretty even, with the teams trading blows, but what really got me was the physicality. both teams were starting fights, checking and hitting each other, and there were lots of penalties given out. the pavelski hit was a big moment in the game. in my opinion? a dirty hit, but it was legal as it was a shoulder-to-shoulder hit, just unfortunate that pavelski hit his head on the ice. going into double overtime just extended the battle, as each team worked to get that third goal which the wild eventually ground out. the goalies on both sides were stand out players, making multiple great saves each, and the man who should've been the difference maker, robertson, was a ghost after the end of the third. definitely a series to keep an eye on, i have a feeling it will be a close one.

edmonton oilers vs los angeles kings, 3-4 (overtime)

game at a glance: the great end-of-game collapse

have you ever seen the hope of tens of thousands of fans die in 20 minutes? the oilers started out so strong with a powerplay goal, and they kept the momentum until there was 10 minutes left in the 3rd period where they just fell apart. a disallowed goal in overtime that left time for the kings to win it was just the cherry on top of an epic collapse. draisaitl did his part for the oilers, but mcdavid didn't make an impact on the scoresheet or in the game outside a few pretty spins. korpisalo was great, and if he keeps playing like he did on monday he could drag the kings out of the first round. the atmosphere in edmonton was electric, they were so loud and when the oilers started their collapse, they started throwing beers on the ice. can't say they aren't passionate, but i think the pressure of doing well in a building that expected so much out of the oilers got in their head in overtime. hopefully, they smarten up for game 2

NIGHT TWO

new jersey devils vs new york rangers, 1-5

game at a glance: young upstarts against the old guard

this was a the most boring game i watched out of the 8, it just really didn't hold my attention at all. the crowd in jersey was lame. i said it! there were so many empty seats and rangers jerseys, and the people who were there were quiet (and left during the game!). as for the game, it was obvious that the rangers had playoff experience and were generally bigger and sturdier as a team, they bullied jersey's smaller forwards especially jack hughes the whole game, so they couldn't get any meaningful possession. igor shesterkin in net and the rangers defence blocking shots did most of the work in ensuring the low scoring chances for jersey, and the only goal, that came off a penalty shot, was more of a consolation than anything after the rangers had controlled the whole game. it will be interesting to see if the devils get more comfortable as they adapt to playoff hockey or if the rangers just eat them whole.

toronto maple leafs vs tampa bay lightning, 3-7

game at a glance: heavy is the king that sits upon the thone of expectations

this was the game i was looking forward to the most, and to be honest i was a bit disappointed. the leafs were so out of it, they looked like they were a minor league team playing against pros. they were able to use their speed and skill for a couple minutes at a time for a few goals, but they couldn't maintain it or use it on the power play to convert their chances, in addition to having absolutely horrendous goaltending (with little defensive support). tampa looked like the season vets they were, roughing the leafs up a bit and keeping to their rigid structure. it was obvious that tampa didn't have the same tricks and speed as the leafs, but by sticking to their structure and playing smart, safe hockey, they thrashed the leafs at home. the bunting hit was stupid, dirty and illegal. i hope he gets suspended, you can't elbow someone in the head and just get away with it. the leafs' lack of confidence wasn't helped by the crowd, who had very high energy but most of it was put into heckling the leafs, who were booed off the ice at the end of the first period. the expectations in toronto are so high, another failure after 19 years of failure is unacceptable. toronto needs to adapt to the pressure or it doesn't look good for them. very exciting watch, even though toronto looked so shaky.

vegas golden knights vs winnipeg jets, 1-5

game at a glance: they're the knights, but couldn’t protect their net

winnipeg looked ready for playoff hockey. vegas didn't. winnipeg looked fast, they played with discipline and their defence was exemplary. they could shut down knights chances and if one got through, hellebuyck in goal was able to shut it down. the knights continually tried to engage the jets in fights, but the jets kept composure and refused to engage. a masterclass in strategy, and the dominated the knights, who seemed to underestimate the jets. unpopular opinion: i really don't like the vegas atmosphere, it feels so aggressively like a less-enthusiastic american football game, i feel like im watching another sport. crowd wasn't great, knights weren't great, but the jets were incredible and their coach's system is absolutely stunning to watch. not my favourite series, but was interesting to see!

colorado avalanche vs. seattle kraken, 1-3

game at a glance: a selection of stars against a balance of powers

the avalanche, the reigning stanley cup champions, were exposed as very reliant on a few stars in this game. without those stars producing points, they couldn't effectively create chances or set the rhythm of the game. seattle, on the other hand, has a pretty evenly dispersed amount of talent between all the forward and defensive lines, which showed as they got scoring and playmaking from pretty much everyone on the team. their goalie grubauer having a great night in goal sealed the deal, and the kraken win their franchise's first playoff game ever. we will see how this series develops, as the avs are a much bigger, tougher team who could bully the kraken with their speed if they control play for long stretches of time. the kraken aren't shrinking violets though, and their ability to smoothly break the puck out of the neutral zone is composed and almost clinical with how they undressed the defensemen who weren't named cale makar. atmosphere was great, i love the crowd in colorado and the in-arena announcer has so many cool sound effects and songs they play which makes the game fun to watch.

TLDR

series i recommend if you want to watch beautiful hockey: boston bruins v florida panthers

series i recommend if you want a close series: toronto maple leafs vs tampa bay lightning

series i recommend if you want to see fights: dallas stars vs minnesota wild

i hope you enjoyed this analysis, and happy watching everyone!

[cosmiclove-heavenstruck]

Dance Lessons | Harry James Potter

Pairing: Harry Potter x fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Wordcount: 12200 words (Yes, really. Do you ever just start to write a little oneshot and then it turns out as a fic with over 10000 words?)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of underage drinking, sexual tension but no smut, fluff, slight angst, slow burn i guess

Summary: Harry asks you to teach him how to dance for the upcoming Spring Ball.

a/n: Set in Harry’s sixth year. English is not my native language, so there might be spelling/grammar mistakes. (The beginning is inspired by this oneshot)

Not many could say that they had faced Voldemort more than once and had survived, but Harry Potter was one of the few lucky ones that had gotten away every time. And if that wasn’t enough, Harry had defeated horrifying creatures, had broken into the Ministry and had saved the wizarding world several times – more or less accidentally, but hey. He had dealt with Umbridge and fought Death Eaters.

To the world, he was a hero, he was the Boy Who Lived.

So yes, his record of fighting the evil was quite impressive for a sixteen-year-old. But there was one thing he knew he would never impress anyone with and that were his dance skills.

Because Harry Potter couldn’t dance for shit.

Everyone who had watched his poor attempt at a waltz at the Yule Ball knew it had been an embarrassing disaster, and a blessing when he had stopped – merely for Parvati Patil’s feet.

Everyone who had watched knew that Harry Potter had never before set foot on a dancefloor. And you had watched. You had watched with great interest because secretly, you had wished for him to ask you to the ball. But when there had been only two weeks left and Dean Thomas had asked you after Transfiguration class, you had said yes.

There you were, sitting with Dean beside Seamus and Lavender as well as Ron and his date Padma, your eyes glued to the raven-haired boy getting terribly out of step. You watched, of course, under the pretence that you found it disgracefully hilarious.

Harry had never thought about asking you to the Yule Ball, if he was quite honest with himself. He had been after Cho, and he waited way too long to ask her, so she was already going with Cedric. And you had a date with Dean.

As good as Harry was with fighting the dark and the evil, as bad was he with social interactions. He had no problem producing a Patronus, but he was absolutely useless when it came to talking to girls.

You were the opposite.

Yes, the boggart may had made you faint in front of your whole class, but on the other hand, talking seemed like the easiest task in the world. Whether it was a chat with a teacher or speaking to strangers, though you did not thrive off of that.

There was one other thing that made you stand out to the other girls (and boys) in your year: You knew how to dance, from a simple disco fox to a more complicated waltz.

So, when Professor Slughorn announced a Spring ball for the students in sixth and seventh year, Harry knew you were his only chance if he did not want to make a fool out of himself again. He asked you (after a whole week of practicing in front of the mirror), with heated cheeks and a fast-beating heart, if you could teach him how to dance.

You felt a bit taken by surprise by this request, but agreed, nonetheless.

Friday evenings, eight to nine o’clock, were now reserved for your weekly dance lessons.

Looking at Harry’s history, it should be no big deal to dance with a girl when you had already come across the most dangerous things existing in the wizarding world. He should not be nervous; what was the girl teaching you how to dance against gigantic spiders who saw you as their dessert?

Well, everything.             

The thing was, Harry could prepare spells and charms, he knew what he had to do when he was faced with a Dementor or a Boggart. His mind, however, went completely blank when it came to you, like his nerves were on fire. To say he was nervous was an underestimation.

Harry ran his hand through the mess of black locks in a rather useless attempt to flatten them. They jumped back up immediately as he let go, pointing in every direction but the one he wanted them to. Stupid genes.

Sometimes he wished he had inherited his mother’s hair. It would have been fun to be mistaken as a Weasley and he could pretend he and Ron were actually brothers.

To keep his hands busy, Harry smoothened the plaid shirt he had thrown on before darting another glance at the clock over the door of the abandoned classroom on the fifth floor. 8:01 o’clock.

His fingers drummed against the wooden desk he was leaning on to release his excited tension, which only worked until the door opened, and he jumped up into a straight position.

You stepped inside, a vinyl clammed under your arm and an apologizing smile on your lips.

“Sorry I’m late, Snape held me off,” You said, placing your bag on the table Harry had leaned on previously.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. Uh, are you alright?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah. I mean Snape just almost failed my assignment, but I found a new song to dance to, and I’m pretty sure you’ll like it,” You said as you rushed over to the old vinyl player in the corner and unwrapped the black record.

Harry followed your every movement. You could feel his eyes on you and bit down on your lip to stop yourself from smiling.

“It’s a bit slower than the other one, so it will be easier for you to follow,” You added and pulled the vinyl out, stroking a streak of Y/H/C hair behind your ear, your back still facing him.

When the record was placed correctly into the player, you turned back around and led Harry by the hand to the middle of the classroom. This simple touch alone made Harry’s head spin, and it did not help when you placed his hand onto your waist.

“Are you ready?” You asked and he nodded. “Good, follow my lead.”

There was nothing but admirable beauty, the way you moved to the soft piano music filling the room, Harry thought, and he hated himself for not realising sooner. You were like a sunset, and he was afraid to look right at you because what if you saw all the feelings swelling in his heart that dared to overspill at any moment.

You had been right, he adored the music you had brought with you, but he adored you even more.

You thought he looked at his feet because he was afraid to mess up the steps.     

“Hey,” You said softly, taking the hand from his shoulder to lift his chin. “Eyes up.”

“Yes. Right. Sorry.”

A sheepish smile spread over his face and your heart beat hectically against your rip cage as his emerald green eyes met yours.

It took Harry a great deal of strength to not break out of the dance routine he had so intensely studied and kiss you. But your hand slipped away from under his chin back to his shoulder and the moment was lost, like so many others.

Staying professional was not so simple for you either, as much as you liked to deny it. You liked Harry, more than friends should like each other, but who could blame you? Harry was very handsome, with his messy hair and those green eyes, he was sweet and caring, and he was dancing with you in an abandoned classroom, his hand on your waist.

Looking at it from this angle, there seemed to be no reason as to why you were so careful to deny your feelings.

Well, there was one problem: You thought he wanted to ask Cho to the ball to make up for the Yule Ball.

Harry was pretty oblivious when it came to love. Neither had he thought about you as more than friends before sixth year, nor had he realised that the feelings he had felt for Cho two years ago were similar to the ones he had for you now, though they were much more intense.

The worst part was that you two had been friends for three year and since then, you had spent a week of every summer holiday at the Burrow. Harry knew you; he knew that you liked his crappy jokes and his sarcastic comments, but never before had his stomach tingled when you laughed at them. Never before had there been goose bumps all over his skin when you hugged him. And to hell, never before had he acknowledged how goddamn beautiful you were.

“You’re getting really good.” You ripped him out of his thoughts.

“Oh. Really?” He asked.

It would be brilliant if he could dance without thinking about it all the time, fearing he could step on your feet.

“Yes, really,” You replied, grinning.

“Well, I- I suppose I have a good teacher.”

The piano music faded out and you stopped in the middle of the room, slipping your hand out of his. It was a good excuse to turn around and start the vinyl again, so you did not have to answer anything.

Harry stood there for a second, gulping and scratching his neck. He should not have said that.

What he had said flattered you, but it was only a knife dressed like compliment, stroking over your heart to stab you right after. All of this was amicable, temporary, fickle. All of this was for Cho.

You sat the needle back on the record.

“What’s it called? The song, I mean,” Harry asked quietly.

“‘Il Reste du Temps’. The rest of time.” You walked back up to him and took his hand, leading you two into the dance. With his hand on your lower back, he pulled you a bit closer than last time.

“So, there are only two weeks left. You have asked Cho by now, I suppose?” You asked to remind your thoughts of reality.

Harry narrowed his eyebrows, not sure how you had come to the conclusion he still liked Cho. She was great, for sure, but she wasn’t you.

“Oh. Uh, not really, no,” He answered. Your heart jumped.

“Well, you should hurry up. You don’t wanna wait until last minute like last time.”

“I- yeah, I mean, I don’t- I don’t want to go with Cho.”

You stepped forward even though you were supposed to draw back and stomp on his left foot. His hand around yours clenched for a second at the sudden pain.

“Shit. Sorry.” You quickly brought you two back into the right footstep order. “You’re not asking Cho?”

“No. I wanna- No.” Harry stopped himself from talking any further. He couldn’t ask you. He just couldn’t.

“Well, who do you wanna ask?” You said.

Maybe it was Ginny. She was gorgeous, phenomenal at Quidditch and in the Slugclub. Nothing you could say about yourself.

Harry opened his mouth and stammered. “It’s, uh, you know…some…girl.”

Oh yes, great save, Harry, congratulations, He thought to himself, couldn’t be any vaguer, could you? For Merlin’s sake, look at her, she is completely confused.

You were pretty even when you were confused, with your eyebrows drawn together over your eyes curiously inspecting him – Stop.

“Ah, okay. The lucky girl’s a secret,” You said, laughing lightly. It was definitely Ginny.

“No, I mean, she’s –” 

“It’s not my concern who you’ll ask, Harry,” You interrupted to calm him down. “As long as you ask her.”

Harry didn’t know what to reply to that. You really saw them just as friends.

The two of you danced for a while and Harry tried to memorise every golden speck in your dark eyes, every freckle, every curve, just so he could imagine you instead of the person he would dance with in a fortnight. If he would even go. Because what point was there to go to a ball if the one person he wanted to dance with more than anything else would not be there with him?

You tried to enjoy the closeness while it lasted. But the voices crowding your mind all shouted that he would never see you the way you saw him. That his face would never be so close ever again. That his hands would never rest on your body the way they did now, and never with any other intention than for the sake of learning how to dance, learning how to impress Ginny or whoever he would ask.

“Have you – have you asked anyone yet? To go to the ball with you?” Harry disrupted your thoughts and pulled you back into reality.

“No. I don’t even know if I’ll go,” You said and Harry’s heart dropped. “I mean, I’ll come to watch you dance, that’s for sure.”

Now his heart was way up in his throat, beating like hell. He swallowed and forced himself to answer. “No pressure then.”

You grinned at his comment. “Oh please, you can dance better than most of sixth and seventh year combined by now. You remember the spin I showed you last time?”

Harry nodded. He lifted his left arm and put a little pressure on your waist. You performed a small twirl before he caught you again, hand on your side. He smiled proudly.

“Really good.” The music stopped and you looked at the clock on the wall behind Harry. 8:57 o’clock. “I guess that’s it for today.”

Harry smiled sadly but you thought it was just your mind, playing you a trick. You packed the record back into the cover while Harry shouldered his back bag, handing yours to you. Then he held the door open for you, and you stepped out into the dimly lit hallway.

Harry had already pulled out the Marauders Map to check if the way back to the Gryffindor tower was clear. You weren’t technically allowed out after nine p.m. because of the new safety measurements, but it was part of the charm.

“Filch’s down on the first floor and Snape’s in his office,” Harry informed you.

“Okay.” You nodded.

Quietly and side by side, you two walked back to the Gryffindor tower. There was plenty of silence to break, plenty of time to ask you to the ball, Harry thought. But he was too afraid.

–

“It’s not that easy, alright?”

“Bloody hell, you spent every Friday evening with her! Half of our year thinks you’re secretly doing it in that classroom.”

For that, Ron earned a jab into his ribs. The two made their way through the masses of students down the last staircase to the Great Hall.

“Ow! It’s not my fault, you can’t open your mouth.”

“Oh, I can’t open my mouth? Have you asked Hermione yet?”

Harry was sure this would shut Ron up, but he was wrong.

“I asked her six weeks ago and she said yes, mate.”

Harry stopped in his tracks, stunned. “Wot?”

“Merlin, do you ever listen to me?”

Ron shook his head, walking to breakfast. Harry needed a few seconds before he could move again, then he caught up with his best friend. He was about to say something back when Ron’s sister Ginny interrupted them, wrapping her arms around both of Harry and Ron’s shoulders.

“Morning boys,” She greeted them enthusiastically.

The ceiling of the Great Hall was covered in a pale blue and yellow, the upcoming sun shining golden through the high windows.

“So.” Hermione poured both of you a glass of pumpkin juice. “How was it yesterday?”

“Mhm?” You looked up from your toast.

She sighed as if her question was rather obvious. “The dance lesson with Harry?”

“Oh.” You shrugged. “Normal.”

“So, nothing happened? Nothing you want to tell me?” She asked further.

You eyed her suspiciously, but she kept an innocent face expression.

“It’s not like we could do much besides dancing.”

Lavender beside you snickered and Parvati snorted into her coffee.

“Believe me, there is a lot you could do in that hour besides dancing,” Parvati said.

“God, no! Have you met Harry?” Lavender said bemusedly. “Like he's the type to have secret sex.”

“Still waters run deep,” Parvati replied, a smug grin on her lips. “Don't they, Y/N?”

Hermione crunched her nose at the suggestive tone as you narrowed your eyes at the two girls, shaking your head.

“Yes, keep making fun of my non-existing love life.”

You grabbed the strawberry marmalade, determined to ignore any topic concerning Harry. While you had lain awake last night, you had decided to bury your feelings for him all together and get over it. This would be easier once your dance lessons came to an end and the ball was done.

��Well, it does exist for everyone else,” Lavender interposed.

“And it would exist for you, too, if you would finally do something,” Hermione said, leaning forward.

“What?” You asked. “I mean, yeah, I like him, but he is definitely not into me like that. And I can't force him to be.”

Hermione groaned, and Parvati rummaged through her bag, pulling out a piece of parchment and making some space on the table.

“Okay, let’s see,” She began, “He asked you to teach him to dance. Big step for him, you know that. He always stares at you during Quidditch instead of the Snitch. Wood would've killed him by now. He always sits beside you. He definitely smelled you in Amortentia, regarding how he looked at you during that class. And since then, he looks at you like you’re the only person in the room. He –”

“He does not,” You said, grabbing her wrist to stop her from writing any further.

“Yeah, he does,” Lavender argued. “Look!”

You turned to spot Harry alongside Ron and his sister Ginny coming through the doorway, and for one second, your eyes met. Then Ginny said something, and Harry looked at her, laughing.

You sighed and stuffed the rest of your toast down your throat to get rid of the sour feeling twirling and burning in your stomach.

“Well, Ginny’s pretty funny,” Hermione tried.

“Yeah, she’s funny and pretty and she likes everything he likes.”

“None of that matters because he fell in love with you and not Ginny,” Lavender said, smiling brightly.

“He did not – not what you said.”

“He did! The list doesn’t lie.”

Parvati waved the parchment through the air, and you snatched it out of her hand, drowning it in the pumpkin juice before anyone could read it. Hermione curled her lip as she watched the paper soaking up the orange liquid, sinking to the ground of the jug.

In the same moment, Harry, Ron and Ginny reached your table, and to your surprise, Harry really did sit down beside you, your knees touching shortly while he climbed over the bench. The sudden touch sent sparks through your body and filled you with a comfortable warm which was quickly extinguished by Ginny sitting down next to Harry.

You didn’t want to be jealous.

There was no need to compare yourself to Ginny, you were two completely different people. But hearing her talk about Quidditch to the guys and seeing her flicking her beautiful hair over her slim shoulder made it so obvious how perfect for Harry she was. You couldn’t compete with that, in fact, you didn’t even want to compete with that.

No, you would get over your feelings and maybe ask someone else to spend the next Hogsmeade weekend with you. Those evenings with Harry, those moments too good to be true would stay somewhere deep down in your heart, locked away from the real world.

The weekend left as fast as it had come, and soon enough Harry and you both found yourselves in your day-to-day school life, studying for an upcoming Charms test and writing essays for Snape and McGonagall.

There wasn’t much time to think about each other, yet Harry managed to glance up from his homework a few times to stare at you opposite from him, snuggled into an armchair while flicking through a book. He noticed that you captured your tongue between your lips or mouthed single words to yourself whenever you were so deeply sunken into thoughts that you forgot the many people around you.

The latter found Harry very impressive because he was never that relaxed if more than three people were with him. Your lips on the other hand found Harry... well, much more interesting than his homework was the least to say.

Every day he woke up thinking that today, he would ask you. But whenever he came close to ask, he changed the topic or was distracted by friends and classmates.

Even Ron had given up with his jokes by now, which was a very bad sign and a nonverbal way to say, Man, you fucked up.

–

You had decided to make the last of your dance lessons a memorable one. An hour of pretending, of being close to someone you know you would never be this close to ever again.

Therefore, you had asked your older sister to send some of your favourite records from home, which you were now sorting through in the abandoned classroom. It was ten minutes to eight and you were sipping a butterbeer to cool your nerves. All those times before you had been as calm as ever, but today you were on the edge.

The door opened and you turned to find Harry in the doorway, hair messy as ever.

“Hi,” He said and the corners of his lips jumped up into a lopsided smile.

“Hey. You’re early.”

“Could say the same about you.”

“Yeah, you could,” You mumbled, pushing the needle of the record player down onto the vinyl.

Classic music filled the air and you walked over to Harry to lead him to the middle of the room after he had dropped his back bag to the floor. With the high heels on your feet, you were almost eye to eye, your nose at the height of his lips.

For a wonder, he did not need your instruction to place his hand on your waist and pulled you much closer than usual.

Harry felt his heart beating in his throat. Being this close to you was galvanic, every nerve was burning, and then again, for the first time in two months, he was able to close his eyes and let himself sink in, to melt with the music, to feel the tact pulsating through his whole body. It was what you had tried to teach him all along.

And yet his tongue was tied. He just had to ask. Would you like to go to the ball with me? One simple question. You had told him yourself to not wait until last-minute to ask, and now with every minute, every hour, every day passing it felt more ridiculous. He had known that he wanted to ask you and only you to the ball, but every time he thought about forming the question, his mouth failed him.

Your eyes lay calmly on him, tapping his shoulder in time to the music while secretly trying to remember every little detail of his face: His prominent eyebrows curved over his emerald green eyes, his flushed cheeks and the dimples created by his light smile lying on his lips.

Harry had become, for lack of a better word, quite fantastic at slow dancing. There was confidence in the way he moved through the room and held onto you, mingled with a certain elegance and appreciation of the art he was participating in. A good teacher, he had called you. Well, regarding slow dances, yes.

But there was one other thing he had yet to learn.

“You’re really good, you know that?” You said, and his smile brightened.

“Yeah? Or are you just saying that because it’s my last lesson?” He asked.

“No, I mean it. You know, I wrote my sister last week and she send some of my vinyl discs from home,” You told him as the music slowly faded out and let your hand slip from his shoulder and hand to turn to the record player, not noticing how his fingers lingered a moment longer on your waist.

Harry watched how you sorted through the discs, not able to make use of their names in any way. The only record he had come across before those dance lessons had been one by a singer named Bonnie Tyler, who Aunt Petunia secretly listened to on repeat during the summer when Uncle Vernon went grocery shopping or mowed the lawn.

Harry wasn’t a big fan, which was pretty much the only thing he had in common with his cousin Dudley.

“Here. To dancing and a nice Spring ball.” Harry snapped out of his thoughts. You held out a bottle of butterbeer, which he took and snapped its bottle top off, regarding for a moment to say something along the lines like To you, for teaching me how to dance or To us, but that seemed a bit too much.

Therefore, he went with a simple “Cheers” and touched glasses with you.

While he took a big sip in hopes it would make him braver, you decided on a turquoise and pink coloured disc with a man dancing on the front, the words Footloose in ornate writing covering its front. He couldn’t help but notice the grin you tried to hide, as if knowing something he didn’t.

“What’s that?” He asked, leaning against the table beside you and putting his beer aside.

“That’s what the cool kids dance to.”

You placed the needle onto the record. Drums began to play a fast rhythm, mixed with an electric guitar, and you slipped off your high heels, now only in tights. Harry watched with fearful curiosity how you snapped your fingers in time, bopping your head with closed eyes to internalise the music.

Every movement of your feet, your hips, your shoulders was nonchalant, effortless and... well, simply cool.

“Come on!” You said loudly over the music, waving Harry closer.

“No, no, that’s –” He shook his head, heat flushing his cheeks, and crossed his arms.

“Yes!”

You danced up to him, grabbing him by his hands and pulling him to the middle of the room.

Harry had improvised a lot when it came to fighting evil. His whole trip to the ministry had been decided because of his gut instinct, because he had thought he knew what he was doing. Well, that was probably a bar example. He had made everything worse back then.

But everything he had done to fight off the hundreds of Dementors at the Great Lake, or the creatures in the maze two years ago, or Voldemort at the graveyard, every single thing had been purely and spontaneously improvised.

Now, he wasn’t sure if he was that good at improvising dance moves, but you had other plans.

“Come on, don’t you trust me?” You said as his fingers clenched around your hands, unable to let go, like a man clinging onto a life buoy in the middle of the ocean.

And Harry wanted to say back that of course he trusted you, more than he probably knew himself, but all that came out was a “Yeah” which sounded more like a laugh than an actual word because of the grin stretched across his lips.

“Just dance the way you dance when no one’s watching,” You said.

“I don’t – I don’t do that,” He admitted, feeling how his cheeks burned under the unbelieving look coming from you.

“Okay, then close your eyes and just – just do it. Here, I’ll do it, too!”

You closed your eyes, smiling brightly, and slipped your fingers out of his, twirling on the spot like you usually only did behind closed doors, and clapping your hands in time with the music.

Harry couldn’t rip his gaze off of you, the way your body moved without any shame, your ridiculous head banging while acting like you play the guitar – air guitar, that’s what it was called, he had seen Dudley and his friends doing it, but never with so much... passion?

You were quite passionate about dancing, much more passionate than you were about school or Quidditch, and it fascinated him. How you could let loose, could forget what everyone thought of you, and he wanted to feel it too, wanted to not think that everyone was judging him.

So, Harry closed his eyes, concentrated on the beat of the music and your hands clapping, and then he did what you had been doing: Moving his arms, his legs, his feet, all a bit offbeat, all much less cool than what you did, but it had the effect he had wished for.

He forgot. Forgot about everything going on, everything in the past, everything that would come. It was like the music had deleted Voldemort from his mind. There was only his body and those absurdly freeing dance moves he would have been ashamed off any other time.

But not with you.

“Hey, you’re doing it! You’re doing it, look at you!” You shouted over the music, and Harry ripped his eyes open in the same moment as you grab his hands again. He slowed his legs.

“You said you wouldn’t look,” He said breathlessly, very aware of his fast-beating heart.

But if he was honest, he did not mind that you had seen him. If he could choose any of his friends to watch him dance like this, it would definitely be you.

“I had to, I’m sorry!” You laughed, and the song came to an end. “Oh, I have something even better, you’ll like that!”

You hit him friendly in the chest and rushed over to your pile of vinyl discs, wrapping the Footloose back up and pulling out another one from a white and pink packaging with two people on the front.

Harry would’ve never believed that dance lessons would be more exhausting than Quidditch training, but he had soon been disabused. He took a huge sip from his bottle of butterbeer and watched how you placed the needle on the disc before reaching for your own bottle.

“‘You broke my heart – ‘cause I couldn't dance – you didn’t even want me around!’” You were mouthing along the words the singer was speaking in an overdramatic seriousness, holding your bottle like a microphone. Harry was grinning at you, afraid of what would come next. “‘And now I'm back – to let you know – I can really shake 'em down!’”

The music dropped in, and you shook your hips, hands on your black skirt.

“Now don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Dirty Dancing,” You dared as Harry stayed at his spot, and he shrugged helplessly.

You shook your head at him with a smile on your lips, placed your bottle away and pulled him away from the table until you two were almost as close as in your usual dance lessons.

“Okay, like this.” You grabbed him gently by the waist and pushed him a bit down so his legs were slightly bent. Harry’s heart jumped at the unexpected touch. “Good, yeah, look at what I’m doing.”

Your grip became firmer, circularly moving his hips like you did. His eyes jumped up between your face and your waist, and he tried his best to copy your movements while calming his heart speed down.

“Yes, good! Now, your upper body, look at me – yeah! Good, eyes up,” You reminded him, and he glanced at your face, his cheeks flushed.

��Is that okay?” You asked, stepping closer so your hips almost touch, and he nodded. You took his hand, placed it on your lower back, and wrapped your own arms around his neck, just like Johnny and Baby had done it in the beginning of Dirty Dancing.

“That’s good!” You encouraged him, and he grinned at you, his face bright red. “You know, in the movie, they have another dance with a lift.”

“You’re not gonna make me do that, are you?” He asked.

You shook your head, laughing. “No, definitely not without training and a mattress,” You said, slowing your hip movements. “Maybe after the ball. I mean –”

The words had just slipped out of your mouth without thinking about them before. But Harry smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of his forehead, while I’ve Had The Time Of My Life began to play, and Bill Medley’s voice filled the room.

Harry felt like he was on fire. If you wanted to continue the dance lessons next year it must be because you liked him. In some way, you liked him, and it was very hard for him to concentrate during this dance. And training on a mattress would not make that easier – Stop it, stop it, just answer!

“Yeah, okay,” He said, and your heart jumped up in excitement. You smiled back at him and grabbed his free hand with yours, leading you back into a simple dance routine fitting the music. Harry followed almost effortlessly, only shortly glancing at his feet.

“I’ll have to demand payment if we keep doing this.”

“What kind of payment?”

His hand on your lower back pushed you a bit closer, you were almost chest to chest. Was he... flirting with you?

Whatever it was, it made you speechless, and in a moment of incautiousness, your eyes fell down to his lips. You held your breath for a second as you looked back up into his eyes, slowing your movements. He returned your gaze, but just as you were about to gather all your courage, his eyes shifted to the door of the classroom, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration.

“What?” You asked, turning around.

“Filch,” He said and not far down the hall, you heard the meowing of Mrs. Norris.

Panic flared up inside of you as you saw the clock on the wall: Half past nine.

“Argh, fuck.”

You let go off him and rushed over to the table with the record play on top, shoving your vinyl discs into your schoolbag and collecting your high heels in a hurry.

Outside in the hallway, the scratchy voice of Filch mixed with the clicking of his cat’s claws on the stone tiles. Harry had grabbed his bag from the floor and fished out his Invisibility Cloak. As you turned around, he had reached you and enveloped you two in the cloak, standing almost as close to you as a few seconds ago.

“Have you found someone, Mrs. Norris?” Filch’s voice echoed through the hallway. “Is someone out of bed at night?”

“We have to get out,” You whispered, not very keen on getting detention any time soon.

“If we open the door now, he’ll know someone disguised is there,” Harry answered.

“How often have you snuck out of bed at night?”

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards into a lopsided smile.

“Enough times to know what to do.”

The scratching on the classroom door reminded Harry that, despite the fact that they were invisible, it was still pretty obvious that someone had been in here. Harry flicked his wand at the ceiling light right in time – the candles went out and the two of you were coated in darkness just before Filch pushed the door open and the light from his lantern fell onto the stone floor. You held your breath, hoping he would leave again.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Norris’ red eyes scanned the room and the greyish cat walked up to you as if she could actually see you. Instinctively, you wanted to move backwards, but Harry’s arm wrapped around you, holding you in place. You looked up to him and he slowly shook his head.

Mrs. Norris eyed you for a few more seconds before she suddenly jumped onto the table behind you, walking up to the two almost emptied butterbeer bottles and bumping her head against them.

“Oh no.” Your voice was no more than a whisper. “I didn’t –”

Harry placed his hand over your mouth, forcing you to keep quiet.

“Sorry,” You mumbled.

Filch had turned away from the other side of the room he had inspected and was now walking over to his cat. With his arm around your mid, Harry pulled you two quietly away from the table he was now inspecting. You weren’t entirely sure whether it was the panic of escaping Filch or Harry’s chest pressed against your back, but the butterflies in your stomach were jittery as though they were on drugs, and your heart beat unbelievably fast.

Harry felt your heartbeat. He felt the pulsating blood in your veins on your neck where his arm lay, reaching up to your mouth. You were barely breathing, and he figured it was because he was holding you like he was about to kidnap you.

“Run when we’re in the hallway,” He whispered, eyes steadily watching Filch, and removed his hand from your lips to grab your free hand. You nodded shortly. Fortunately, Filch had left the door open, and in one swift motion, Harry had steered you outside.

Fingers still interlocked with yours, he began to run, you by his side. And despite the fact that you two had almost been caught, despite that you had been interrupted when he had felt most confident, despite the ruined moment, he felt light and free and happy.

You were clutching your shoes, slithering over the cold tiles in your black tights, and Harry, looking at you, almost missed the last step of the stairs leading to the portrait of the Fat Lady. He held onto you as he staggered, and you giggled breathlessly, pulling him back up.

“That – stupid – fucking – cat. Can she see through your cloak?” You asked.

Harry shrugged and ruffled through his messy hair.

“Don’t know. I think, but I’m glad she can’t talk,” He said, and a grin spread over your lips, which he returned.

He caught your eyes, looking at you like before, like there was something he needed to say – the tingling feeling in your core got overwhelmed by heart-racing panic and because of some sour mix of uncertainty and fear, you slipped out from under the Invisibility Cloak, taking a few steps away from Harry.

Not a second later, he emerged as well, fighting to keep the smile on his face like his heart hadn't just sunk so deep he wasn't sure if it was even still connected to his veins.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah!” Your voice was too loud, too squeaky to convince him. “Yeah, I – I'm sorry, it's just been a long week and I'm really tired. I'm gonna – gonna go...”

You gestured to the portrait behind you, avoiding his eyes, and turned to escape the situation.

Harry stared at the spot where you had vanished into the common room, his fingers clenching around the fabric of his cloak before tossing it to the ground. It didn't give the satisfying sound he had wanted to make, so he sent a “Fuck!” after it.

“Young boy, that is not a very appropriate language, now, is it?”

His eyes flew up to the Fat Lady, who had apparently watched with great interest. “Besides, what are you doing that late out of bed? I mean I know it gets later on Fridays for the two of you but it's later than usual today –”

“Chinese Fireball.”

“I just don't know what you are doing during that hour. There are rumours, for sure –”

“I told you the password, now will you open the fucking portrait? Chinese Fireball.”

“Oh, fine.” She let the portrait swing forward. “I'll find out by myself... maybe visit some paintings down on fifth floor...”

Harry ignored the Fat Lady.

He also ignored Ron calling after him from the sofa in front of the fireplace, as well as Hermione's questioning look and all the other people staring at him as he darted through the common room and up the stairs, slamming the door of his dorm shut behind him.

He ignored them because the only person he wanted to be seen with had just left him standing in the hallway and he wasn't even sure why.

The first time you saw each other again was three days later in Potions. You had ignored him on purpose, which you knew was obvious to him: Leaving the Great Hall whenever he stepped inside, sitting as far from him in the common room as possible, avoiding his eyes... that did not leave that much room for speculations.

You didn't want to hurt him, you really didn't, but you couldn't be friends any longer, especially not after last Friday. You weren't even sure what exactly had happened – had he really flirted with you or had that been your imagination? Probably the latter. He had asked someone else the ball after all. Right?

Parvati nudged you with her elbow, and you snapped out of your thoughts, noticing the hole in your parchment created by your quill. The two of you sat in the far back of Professor Slughorn’s class, who was in the middle of telling one of his anecdotes instead of teaching about Veritaserum.

“What’s going on?” She asked in a hushed voice. “You’ve been weird since Friday.”

Lavender, who sat in front of you, turned around. “Is it because of – you know?”

She gestured towards Harry in his usual place diagonally across from you. You sighed, placed your quill aside to rub your hands over your face and shrugged. You had also avoided any questions from your friends about Friday, mostly because you could not even answer them yourself.

“I thought he would ask you,” Lavender whispered while throwing a quick glance at Slughorn to make sure he was still occupied with his story. “Didn’t he?”

“No,” You mouthed. Parvati shook her head.

“Man, you’d think he had grown a set of balls after all. If it turns out he just used you to look good in front of Ginny, I swear to Merlin –”

“Well, that’s what it looks like, I mean, he had enough time to ask you,” Lavender said.

Before you could reply anything, Parvati had grabbed her wand and leaned forward. In the next second, the blue Jobberknoll feathers on Harry’s desk burst into flames with an ear-piercing noise.

Both Harry and Ron jumped up, startled from the sudden explosion, and Hermione let out a little shriek as one of the sparks got caught up in her locks. Snickering came from the Slytherin table, and Crabbe and Goyle were stupidly grinning.

“Was that you? Stupid tosspot, I’ll shove that feather up your –,” Ron swore loudly, fists high and ready to walk over to the Slytherins, who had gotten up as well and were throwing insults through the room.

“Calm down, m’boys, no need to get abusive.”

Slughorn stepped between the two fronts while both Harry and Hermione pulled Ron back down onto his chair. With a wave of Slughorn’s wand, the feathers stopped burning and were as good as new.

“Have you gone mental?” You asked during the turmoil. Parvati shrugged and innocently shoved her wand aside.

“You’re my friend and if he hurt you, he’ll get what he deserves –”

“He didn’t hurt me!” You whispered angrily. “I was the one who panicked, I ran away that evening because I was afraid of what he would say! Not Harry. I left him like the idiot I am even though he – he was super nice and said he wanted to learn more –”

“Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Sorry, Professor, I was just –”

“Talking to Ms. Patil, I noticed. Could you still answer my question?” Slughorn eyed you, and so were all the other students.

“Uh...yes... if you could repeat it? Sir.” You said, and once again snickering echoed through the classroom, the loudest coming from Pansy Parkinson.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Parvati reaching for her wand again, and you quickly pressed her hand down to the table, awkwardly smiling at Slughorn.

“I asked if you could tell me anything about the usage of Veritaserum in court,” He kindly repeated and you straightened your back, ignoring Hermione’s raised hand.

“Well, the potion is strictly banned by the British Ministry of Magic, therefore they don’t use it during interrogations and such, which is also because, like any other potion, it’s not infallible. But I read that in some Asian countries, the accused can choose if they want to take Veritaserum before they give testimony. Unfortunately, in some courts they give the accused failed Veritaserum in order to alter the given testimony fraudulently.”

You had never read about that, you were – ironically – making it up, but Slughorn didn’t seem to notice.

“Very well, that’ll be five points for Gryffindor,” He said. “That reminds me of –”

As Slughorn fell back into his old habit of telling personal stories during class, you sank back into your chair and stared at the chapped top of the desk for the rest of the lesson.

Only the bell ripped Slughorn out of his monologue, and over the rustling of chairs, he told the class to read the next chapter of Advanced Potion Making until Wednesday.

“Courtyard?” You asked Parvati as to where to spend your free lesson.

“Yeah, but I got a question about that graded essay from last week. Just go ahead, I’ll catch up with you,” She answered and made her way to the front. Alongside with Lavender, you were one of the first to leave the Potions classroom.

“I wish I hadn’t picked Arithmancy,” Lavender complained.

“You can sleep longer on Thursdays, remember?” You said as you reached the entrance hall. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, bye.”

Lavender began to climb up the stairs to the third floor, and you walked down the hallway. It was freezing cold outside, but the courtyard was beautiful during every time of the year, especially in the early mornings when the sun melted the iced-up grass and you could share a hot chocolate with your friends on one of the benches.

“Hey, Y/N! Wait!”

You turned to spot none other than Theodore Nott running up to you, his Slytherin scarf loosely around his neck.

“Hi,” He said as he had reached you.

“Uh, hi. Can I help you?” You asked.

“Actually, yeah. I wanted to ask if you have a dance to spare at the Spring ball? I mean, I know you’re going with Potter, I just wanted one dance with someone professional –”

“I’m not going with Harry,” You blurted out. Theodore narrowed his eyebrows.

“What?” He asked, a bemused smile on his lips.

You gulped and shook your head, crossing your arms. “I’m not going with... anyone.”

“Oh. Well, then,” His body relaxed visibly, and he raised his eyebrows, “do you wanna go with me?”

You opened your mouth, an agreement already on the tip of your tongue, but you knew that was just out of desperation and not because you actually wanted to go to the ball with Theodore.

“Hey, you know what, no pressure at all, okay?” He said, placing his hand on your shoulder casually. “I’ll be at the ball anyway, so if you want to dance then, I’m free.”

You nodded. “Thank you, Theodore. I’ll think about it.”

“You can call me Theo. Only if you want to, obviously.”

A grin crept upon your face. “Yeah, I’ll – I’ll think about it.”

Whatever Harry had felt the two days prior, it was nothing compared to the sour feeling circulating in his stomach now, like some dragon-creature spitting fire and tearing at his entrails with sharp claws. Inside of him, everything was clenching and itching, but on the outside, he was numb.

Like his brain had been disconnected from his muscles, wherefore he was only able to stare at Theodore Nott and his stupid, complacent grin and his hand on your shoulder while he asked you to the ball.

This wasn’t fair. How come everyone else but him was able to do it, how come everybody else had managed to find a date, when – to be honest – he had been provided with one of the best initial situations? How come the only thing he was apparently fit for was getting himself into trouble and escaping death every goddamn year? Harry had kind of forgotten about all that was to come, all that Dumbledore had told him, and the memory Slughorn was still tending like dark secret simply because of you.

The worst thing wasn’t that Theodore Nott had just asked you to go to the Spring ball with him. No, the worst thing was that you had agreed.

The only thing that was left for him was to run, which he did now: Up to the Gryffindor tower, tossing his back bag into a corner and grabbing his Firebolt from under the bed, then back down to the Quidditch pitch in record time.

Flying was one of the most freeing activities known to Harry, especially in the cool, fresh morning air with no one else around. High above the frozen grass and the wooden stands, much higher than probably allowed without any teacher near by, Harry paused to watch the sun over the Forbidden Forest.

He wondered if you had ever flown before, if you knew how brilliant it was to hover a thousand feet above the ground, far away from all the problems. Far away from Ron asking what the bloody hell was wrong with him. Far away from Hermione telling him that it was his own fault for waiting so long but that you surely weren’t interested like that in that tosser Theodore (though she would probably word it much more formal).

Time was relative up here, Harry had noticed over the years, so he closed his eyes and shut the world out for a moment. Saturday was still light-years away anyway, so –

“Harry, is that you?”

He almost fell from his broom.

With his heart still beating way to fast and adrenalin pumping though his veins, he turned his broom around to find no one other that Luna standing inside commentary box and waving up to him. Oh well. So much for being alone.

He steered his Firebolt down to the blonde witch and landed beside her.

“What are you doing her, Luna?” He asked as climbed from his broomstick. “Don’t you have classes right now?”

“Oh, yes. But I saw that you are sad so I asked Professor Sprout if I could go because I’m not feeling very well,” She explained and sat down on one of the benches.

“You lied to a professor?”

“Oh, no,” She said, looking at him with her dreamy blue eyes. “I don’t feel well when my friends are sad.”

Harry didn’t know what to reply to that, so he simply sat down next to her. Luna had such a strange, but calm energy, like a pulsating, pink bubble inhibiting her, and if you were lucky, she let you inside this bubble and you could shut the world out for a moment.

“Harry, why are you sad?” Luna asked softly after a while.

“Because... because I like someone who doesn’t like me back,” He said.

Luna placed her hand upon his, and he saw that she had painted her fingernails in every colour of the rainbow. Though that was probably Ginny’s work.

“I think Y/N likes you very much,” She said. Harry scoffed.

“Not the way I like her,” He said. “She just agreed to go to the ball with Nott. I saw it. She looked happy. And when I wanted to ask her last week, she ran away.”

“You know, first I thought you wanted to go to the ball with somebody else,” She said. “I thought maybe you wanted to ask Cho again and wanted to prepare this time. And maybe Y/N thought so, too.”

Harry looked up at the blonde girl.

“She did ask me if I was going to ask Cho,” He said, remembering one of the dance lessons.

“And did you tell her that you actually want to ask her?”

“No,” He admitted, burying his face in his hands. “I panicked... and now it’s too late.”

“No, it’s not. You should still go to the ball, and then you should tell her,” Luna said.

“How? I can’t do it when we’re alone, I certainly can’t do it when there’s a hundred people around,” Harry said miserably.

“Well, then don’t.” Luna shrugged. “If you want her to be with Theodore –”

“I don’t want that,” He interrupted her. “Of course, I don’t.”

“Then go to the ball and tell her. I know you can do that.”

Saturday evening came around faster than you liked it to. Over the last four days, you had noticed Theodore’s eyes on you more than once during the meals or potions class, but it did not cause the tingling feeling in your stomach you would like his looks to cause.

If anything, you felt a pressure to talk to him and to spend time with him because you would go to the ball together. But you did not give in to that pressure and avoided him as much as possible, which led to you often leaving the potions classroom as one of the first.

To be honest, you were much more concentrated on Harry.

Harry who did not sit beside you during meals anymore. Harry who did not look in your direction but rather stared at his plate. Harry who looked like he had just lived through a very miserable week.

And you knew that was because you had left him standing in the hallway last Friday night. Maybe he had figured that you had feelings for him and that was his way of dealing with it: Distancing himself from you.

You wished you had not run. You wished you could’ve stayed in that abandoned classroom forever, your favourite song playing and his arms around you.

–

“What eyeshadow should I use?”

“The darker one.”

“Y/N?”

You snapped out of your thoughts, looking up from where you sat on the floor in your puffy, ankle-long purple-pink dress. Parvati held out her eyeshadow palette, eyebrows raised as she sceptically eyed you. Her black hair was still wrapped around a dozen curlers. Lavender had spent all morning on them.

“Yes, the darker one,” You said. “Brings out your eyes.”

Thankfully, that answer seemed to satisfy her enough to not ask how you were doing. She and Lavender had already asked that over a million times, but you had reassured them that you were totally okay.

Parvati turned back to face the mirror.

“When did you want to meet with Nott?” Lavender asked. She kneeled in front of her trunk, pondering whether she should wear black or silver heels.

“Half past seven,” You mumbled, picking at the tulle of your dress.

Theodore had held you back yesterday after Defence against the Dark Arts to tell you that he would be at the Great Hall at 7:30 and that you were welcome to eat dinner with him and his friends – which included people like Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson; people you usually avoided by all means, people that had laughed at you for tripping over the last step of a stair, for not knowing an answer to one of Snape’s stupid questions, or for simply being Muggleborn.

You had never been less interested in going to a social event. All you wanted to do was lay in bed under your blanket and erase the last week out of your mind.

“Oh, come on, darling, we talked about this.” Lavender came over and squished your cheeks, brushing away a tear. “Today is not the day to sulk about some guy who doesn’t return your feelings. Today is your day, and you’re gonna have fun with us. Don’t let some guy ruin that. Okay?”

You sniffed and nodded, not able to answer because she cupped your cheeks so solidly. Lavender smiled and kissed your forehead.

“That’s right,” She said. “We’re gonna have some dinner and dance a bit and if by then you still feel bad, we can go back to our dorm.”

“And if Harry dares to talk to you, he’s gonna know what’s it feels like to be kicked in the balls with a heel,” Parvati added dryly. You laughed.

The Great Hall was decorated with yellow, pink and purple banners, and the four long house tables had been exchanged with much smaller, round ones scattered where the staff table usually stood, on each of them a vase filled with rosa tulips and white daffodils.

The ceiling did not mirror the night sky outside but a beautiful, orange sunset lighting up the dance floor in the middle. Opposite from the many tables, on the other end of the hall, Slughorn had organised a stage with a cover band. Next to the stage hung a long parchment onto which everyone could write requests.

You spotted your Potions teacher, dressed in a bright green suit, next to Dumbledore, his robes a terrible pink, both of them writing down their song requests.

“A Galleon that Dumbledore is a Spice Girls fan,” Lavender said grinning as she had followed your eyes.

“Bet,” Parvati said, grabbing three drinks from a passing waiter. “Here. Cheers.”

The three of you clinked glasses and took a sip of the red punch – it tasted strongly of various fruits, coconut, and bitter alcohol.

You let your eyes glide further over the hall and the people that sat together in groups around the tables, some of them already eating. Secretly, you were looking for Harry, though you only discovered Ginny in between Luna and Hermione, all of them chatting happily, and a few tables behind them, Theodore.

He waved as he saw you, gesturing to come over. You forced yourself to smile and wave back at him.

“I’ll see you later,” You said, chugging down the rest of your drink.

“Tell us if he’s being an asshole,” Parvati said. “Or really any of them.”

“And have some fun,” Lavender added.

You took one last look at your friends – Parvati in her silk, almond white, slim dress, and Lavender with flowers in her hair, their arms linked together – and swallowed thickly before turning and making your way through the crowd towards Theodore, though you made sure to give the table with Ginny a wide berth.

“Hi, Y/N,” Theodore greeted you, pecking a swift kiss on your left cheek. His eyes, however, were gliding over the room filling with more and more students. “We’ve already ordered some drinks, come on.”

You took a step back after the kiss, blinking quickly, then noticed how the other people around the table were staring at you:

Pansy and Daphne eyed you and your dress dismissively, and Blaise sipped on his wine, eyebrows raised. Only Draco was slumped in his chair and chewed on a gum, not wasting a single glance at you. He looked as uninterested in this Spring Ball as you felt.

An hour ago, you sure as hell wouldn’t have believed to relate to bloody Draco Malfoy.

“Uh, hi. I’m Y/N,” You said, forcing a smile on your face and holding out your hand towards Pansy, as she sat closest to you. “I like your dress. Matches your earrings.”

That compliment seemed to leave a mark. Her judging look softened and she shook your hand.

After introducing yourself to everyone (well, except Draco, who had only shortly nodded at you), you sat down in between Theodore and Blaise, and ordered something to eat.

Pansy and Daphne were huddled together the whole time, giggling and pointing at others, while Draco raised a complaint about every meal on the menu or really any other small inconvenience that had the unfortune to be spotted by him (“I can’t eat that, it has tomatoes in it. Nothing on here is gluten free. I’ll write father first thing in the morning. Pansy, will you shut the fuck up for a second? That’s not even a real band. God, I hate this place.”).

“He’s a whiny bitch most of the time, but his family has a great holiday chalet in France,” Blaise said to you after Draco had shot you an annoyed look for asking if you should ask the band to play a different song. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t be friends with him.”

“I hope you choke on that disgusting wine,” Draco muttered, and you chuckled.

“Sure, darling,” Blaise replied, sharing a look with you. Until now, Blaise had surprisingly talked the most with you, and it turned out he wasn’t half as bad as you had always thought he would be.

Theodore on the other hand had only occasionally asked you how your meal was and how long you had planned to stay. His eyes had not held contact with yours for longer than a second and were still searching for something in the crowd, which was – by the way – having fun on the dance floor while you had not moved in almost an hour.

It wasn’t until a particularly beautiful girl from Ravenclaw strode past your table that Theodore hooked his foot around the leg of your chair to pull you closer and placed his hand on your upper thigh, giving you his full attention for the first time that night.

“Have I told you that you look very pretty tonight?” He asked, his dark eyes meeting yours.

“Er – no,” You said, darting a confused look towards the Ravenclaw girl.

“Well, you do,” Theodore went on and turned your head back to face him by stroking his thumb over your cheek before pressing his lips onto the skin beneath your ear. They felt chapped and not pleasant in any way. You cringed.

“Uh, sorry, but that’s maybe a bit early, don’t you think?” You said, drawing back and shoving his hand from your thigh.

“She’s gone anyway, Theo,” Blaise said. You did not understand.

“Who’s gone?” You asked, looking back and forth between Theodore and the others, who all seemed to know something you didn’t. Pansy giggled.

“Nothing,” Theodore said. His sweet voice had turned bitter, and you felt like that was your fault. He stood up. “I’ll get some more punch.”

The band segued from an upbeat song into a much slower one, and the light of the candles magically dimmed.

“Do you want to dance maybe?” You asked Theodore as a way to make up for your rejection, but he had already pushed past a group of chatting seventh years, not turning around.

You sank back into your chair, picking at the tulle of your dress again. Was it too early to tell Lavender and Parvati that you wanted to go back to your dorm?

“Girl, if I were you, I would get out of here as quickly as possible,” Blaise said. You looked up at him. “He’s not worth it. And he’s not here for you. So don’t waste your energy.”

“But he asked me to the ball,” You said weakly.

“Did he? Or did he just ask for some time with you to make his ex-girlfriend jealous?”

“He – well – he…”

But Blaise looked at you and you knew that he was right, that this was never about you but some other girl. It was always about some other girl.

“Excuse me, I’ll get some fresh air,” You said and made your way through the tables towards the doors.

The last time, everyone had watched him. Now it was Harry’s turn to watch everyone else try their best on the dance floor. He wasn’t sure what was worse; to be laughed at by the others while stepping on Parvati’s feet every other second or to watch not only Hermione and Ron but also Ginny and Luna, as well as Seamus and Dean dancing closely, arms around the other.

They all had no idea what they were doing, Harry could tell, but they were having fun anyway. He had never seen Hermione this happy.

“Oh, flashback.”

Harry looked up. Parvati sat down next to him on the chair that Ron had left over half an hour ago.

“Yeah,” He mumbled, taking another sip of butterbeer, and turned back to the dance floor right in time to see Dean kissing Seamus passionately in the middle of the room.

“And you are not dancing because…?” Parvati asked. Harry crossed his arms.

“If you’re here to make fun of me or to blow up my butterbeer, feel free to fuck off.”

Parvati chuckled. “Sorry about that. But seriously, why are you sitting here miserably after all those dance lessons?”

Harry tried to make out if she was actually serious or if this was her way to revenge herself for the Yule Ball.

“Are you kidding me?” He asked. Parvati narrowed her eyebrows, now visibly puzzled.

“No, I’m genuinely asking –”

“Well, it’s not that fucking easy to slow dance if you have no date, is it,” He said crossly.

Parvati gaped at him, but he was certainly not in the mood for this. It had cost him all his strength to not look for you in the crowd all evening, he did not need reminding of you not liking him back by Parvati.

Before she could say anything else, he placed his butterbeer bottle on the table and darted outside, hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his suit and eyes directed to the floor.

Harry’s feet guided him towards the courtyard. The music played by the band wasn’t as loud out here, and the cold night air was lively in contrary to the sticky, perfumed air inside the Great Hall.

He kicked some of the grass away and walked towards the bench underneath the willow, watching how its branches weighed in the wind and thought how you were probably having as much fun as his friends, or maybe even more, considering Nott was infamous for snogging in various broom closets.

Harry’s stomach turned at the thought of that. He wished he had a time turner to make it right.

The moon stood high on the deep blue night sky, illuminating the courtyard you had unconsciously walked to. Grey clouds had approached, and tiny raindrops were falling to the ground, steadily drumming onto the roofs of Hogwarts.

On your way out of the Great Hall, you had caught a glimpse of Theodore sticking his tongue down the throat of that Ravenclaw girl, but to be honest, it didn’t matter that he was making out with someone else. It would’ve just been nice if you could have had a forewarning.

You thought you were the only single soul wandering about, then spotted a figure sitting on a bench. You were about to turn and search for some other place to wallow in your feelings, when you recognised the messy hair.

Maybe this was the time to make up for running away. Maybe this was the time to be honest.

Harry looked up when he noticed someone coming closer, the tulle of your dress rustling over the wet grass. His heart jumped and he forgot to breathe for a moment.

“Hello,” You said, voice echoing over the empty courtyard. “Can I sit?”

“Of course.”

Harry scooted to the side to make some space for you. You sat down next to him, leaving maybe a hand width between the two of you. The wide branches of the willow guided you from the cold rain.

“You weren’t dancing,” You said, staring at the grass instead of his face.

You would understand if he did not want to talk, if he just walked away. He didn’t owe you an explanation for why he had not asked you to the ball or why was sitting here instead of inside with Ginny or whoever he had asked.

“You weren’t either, were you?” Harry replied. “You and Nott.”

“No, he’s busy with someone else, so… no. Not dancing.”

“Oh.” Harry shuffled. His knee bumped against yours. “Well, he’s an idiot then.”

You smiled, not moving your knee away from his.

“Yeah…but I don’t mind, really.”

“You should,” Harry said, and he meant it. No one should be treated like that. “If anyone should be dancing, it’s you.”

You looked up at him. Harry was already watching you, and it filled you with warmth despite the freezing cold. There wasn’t a single sign of hurt on his face, just a soft curiosity lying in his green eyes.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, “for running away last Friday. I had to sort out some things.”

“What things?” He asked quietly.

“Some…” Your heartbeat sped up. Be honest, you told yourself. “Some feelings.”

“Oh.” Harry tried to figure out what you meant by that, but the way you looked at him made his mind go blank. “You mean you…”

“I really like dancing with you,” You said. Harry felt his heart beating faster than ever against his ribcage. He wondered if you could hear it. “And I wouldn’t have done those lessons with anyone.”

The music from inside the Great Hall was growing louder, overshadowing the rain; someone must’ve opened the doors to let in some fresh air. The band was playing a slower, French song and it stung in your heart. It was one of your favourites.

When you turned back to Harry, he was standing up. For a second you thought he wanted to leave, to go back inside, then –

“May I have this dance?” Harry held out is right hand, and you did not have to think twice if you should take it or not.

He helped you up from the bench and led into the middle of the lawn, the rain still pattering onto the grass and the stone tiles. It smelled strongly of petrichor, and you thought that this was much closer to spring than the decorations in the Great Hall.

Harry’s hand found its place on your back, pulling you closer to him. You placed your hand on his shoulder, tapping his skin with your finger in time to the music out of habit, and met his eyes, reflecting the moon light in them.

Had you ever told him how beautiful he was?

The two of you moved, swaying back and forth. Harry realised that he did not even need to concentrate on the steps, he knew them by heart. The closeness of you took his breath away, the way your fingers held onto his, the way there was little to no room between your torso and his. You were smiling at him, despite the cold and the rain. Harry felt his stomach tingling.

“What’s it called?” Harry asked quietly, not wanting to drown out the music.

“‘Je Te Laisserai Des Mots’. I’ll leave you words,” You translated, having memorised the lyrics in your mind. “I’ll leave you words underneath your door, underneath the singing moon. Near the place where your feet pass by…hidden in the holes of wintertime and when you’re alone for a moment.”

You paused and Harry’s eyes fell to his feet, not able to take your gaze any longer. There were words on the tip of his tongue he did not dare to say – afraid, to ruin the moment. He wanted to stay here forever.

“Eyes up,” You said, placing your hand underneath his chin to lift his head up.

More French words reached your ears; Harry figured they were the same sentence repeated over and over, but even if he had been able to understand French, he wouldn’t have been able to translate them because of your hand still resting under his chin.

“Kiss me whenever you want,” You whispered. “Kiss me whenever you want. Kiss me –”

And then, Harry let go of his fears and kissed you.

After all it still took you by surprise how he loosened his fingers from yours to cup your face, pulling you as close to him as possible, until there was no space in between, noses bumping against each other. Both of your hands slung themselves around his neck, caressing his skin and driving up through messy hair.

His lips matched yours, gliding smoothly over one another, smearing your lip gloss everywhere until all you tasted was strawberries and sweet alcohol. With his chest against yours, Harry was glad to notice your heart beating as fast as his did, though that was also because he really needed to breathe – not that he wanted to, he would have been totally okay with never breaking away from the kiss if it was always going to feel this soft and freeing.

It was you in the end that had to carefully pull his face away from yours, heavily breathing in and out. You brushed his wet hair out of his forehead and let your fingers slide over his temples and cheeks down to his neck.

“That offer,” Harry began breathlessly, tucking a strand of hair he had accidentally drawn from your pinned-up hair behind your ear, “about continuing the dance lessons…that still stands, right?”

Your lips curved upwards into a smile. “Of course.” 

“Brilliant,” Harry said, mirroring your smile before leaning down again to close the gap between your lips.

[atticsandwitch]

Obey me characters with an MC who does reckless things because they're afraid of being a burden.

Self indulgent, comfort, angst Less headcannons, more drabbles.

First, in a group chat without MC: House of Lamentation (7) Satan: I just found MC in the kitchen, trying to open a can with a chef knife. Mammon: WHAT Mammon: Why would they wanna do something like that?? Asmo: (Wide eyed emoji) Belphie: Yea, that's stupid even for Mammon Mammon: HEY! Satan: They couldn't find the can opener, and they said they didn't want to bother anyone. Levi: That's actually kind of cute. Levi: It's just like the main character of this anime I just started watching who acts really tough and independent, but deep down is afraid to ask for help and just wants to be loved! Satan: That's not all Lucifer: it's not? Satan: Solomon saw MC yesterday climbing the bookshelves in the RAD library. Satan: Apparently they'd reached the sixth shelf before he could levitate them and the book they needed back to the ground. Beel: Are all humans like this? Lucifer: No. It seems we've found a particularly troublesome one. Levi: Actually I saw them do something similar earlier this week. Asmo: Oh no. Asmo: I bet Mammon's having a heart attack rn Mammon: (sweaty nervous emoji) Levi: They were standing on the counter trying to reach something on the top of the cabinets waaaay in the back. Belphie: That's not that bad Levi: They were also standing on an upside down pot because they were still too short. Levi: and they were wearing heels. Lucifer: Everyone, make sure to keep an eye on MC as often as possible

Lucifer

Sighs out loud reading the group chat

"And here I thought I would just have to protect MC from demon attacks"

He decides to have a talk with you once he gets a little time, and not just about safety. He has a whole lecture planned out about climbing the book cases at RAD.

Unfortunately he's swamped with paperwork and bills to go through, so he doesn't have the chance to talk to you right away.

The next day, however, you're all invited to the Demon Lord's Castle for another overnight retreat, or event of some sort.

Everyone is having fun and causing a ruckus, as usual, and at some point during the evening the group loses you.

You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, but the palace is so huge you get lost even with directions. At a certain point you know you can find your way back and ask for help, but you can't bring yourself to, and decide to press on to try to find it yourself.

Eventually you find yourself standing in front of an ornate mirror with no reflection. You stop and ponder it for a moment, and as you're about to step away you hear a whisper. You can't make out what it says, but it compels you to step closer. In a corner of the reflected room you notice what looks like a puppet made of bone, with blackened eyes.

"~MC~..." An ethereal whisper, "...c...l...oser..." and in a blink of your eye it's closer to you, and you've stepped closer without realizing it.

Your heart is racing, but you can't stop yourself from reaching out to the mirror. Is it really a mirror...? Another blink and the bone puppet is closer. It tilts it's head at you, and outstretches an arm.

You try to pull back, but realize you can't, you're now mirroring the actions of the puppet as it steps closer, and closer.

Suddenly your vision goes black and you're pulled backwards by the waist, away from the mirror.

After a moment, Lucifer removes his gloved hand from over your eyes, and spins you to face him. He looks worried, frightened almost, but soon regains his composure.

"I thought you were going to the bathroom, MC" He says

It takes you a second to form words again, "I... I was.... I got lost" You had to really think hard about it for a moment.

Lucifer sighs, "You know the castle can be dangerous. If you weren't sure where to go, why not ask someone to show you?"

You were feeling particularly vulnerable after what had just happened, and so decided to be deeply honest, "I'm afraid of being a burden..." you mumble.

He's surprised by the admission, but pulls you close.

"Of all the burdens I've had to shoulder in this life, I promise that you are not one of them, MC" He whispers into your hair as he kisses the top of your head.

Mammon

Immediately goes to find you after he finishes reading the group chat.

He finds you doing something dangerous with a knife again, and grabs your wrist to stop you.

"Oi, human!" He only calls you that when he's angry, which is rare, "What do ya think yer doin'?"

"I'm just-" he cuts you off

"I don' wanna hear it!"

"Then why did you ask?" you're stare at him. Mammon's face reddens and he realizes he's still holding your wrist, so he gently takes the knife out of your hand and sets it down.

"I mean- What's goin' on with ya lately? Everyone says yer doin' a buncha dangerous stuff!" He put his hands on his hips and only resumes eye contact as he finishes his sentence.

"What do you-?"

"Like climbin' bookshelves, and whatever this is-!" He gestures to the knife and you look away. You're silent for a while; too long for Mammon to take, "C'mon, MC, talk to me" His voice finally softens, arms dropping to his sides. You finally meet his eyes, and the look of concern on his face is heartbreaking.

"I like doing things myself..." you can tell he's not buying it, "I... I just don't want to be a burden..." You admit quietly, voice wavering somewhat.

His eyes go wide, "...MC..." he says softly. Mammon pulls you in for a tight hug, one arm wrapping around your shoulders, and the other hand resting on the back of your head, and holds you like he'd do anything in the world to protect you, which he would.

"Listen up, 'cuz Mammon's gonna give you some free advice" you hear a sniffle, and realize he's crying.

His human was hurting like this, and he never even noticed. What kinda demon am I? He thought, but he knew this wasn't about him right now, so he held you tighter.

"You will never be a burden to me...Ya got that?"

Leviathan

Thinks its pretty adorable that you actually seem to be a little tsundere.

Because of this, and his social anxiety, he doesn't confront you about it right away. Not until the jellyfish incident anyway.

One night you're hanging out with Levi in his room, when you notice that one of his jelly fish decorations had fallen to the ground. So, you decide to string it back up for him.

You looked around, Levi absorbed in his game, and tried to judge the distance between the edge of the bed-tub and the ceiling. That should do it! you think, and climb the edge of the bed-tub. The edge was difficult to balance on, but you knew you'd be careful, and you could almost reach.

Levi turned around just in time to see you, arms stretched too far over your head and on your tip toes on the edge of the tub, and watched as you lose balance completely. He saw it, you were going to fall backwards toward the other side of the tub and crack your head!

Now, he may not be as fast as Mammon, but he is still a demon after all, and just as you felt the jolt of the fall as your foot slipped, you felt arms around your middle, pulling you forcefully forward.

Leviathan had jumped to your rescue, unconsciously changing into his demon form, discarding his controller unceremoniously to the floor, and in his panic underestimated his own strength.

The two of you ended up both landing on the floor, you on top of a very red Leviathan.

"Wh-wh-what were you doing normie?! You were about to fall and crack your skull on the tub!"

You guiltily hold up the jellyfish, "I was just trying to fix it"

"Well get a ladder next time!" It's taking everything in Levi to ignore the position your both in, because its' just like that time in- nevermind, this is more important.

"All you had to do was say something! I was sitting right there!" He still hasn't let you go. He sees the look on your face change into something he can't quite get a read on, but whatever it is, is also full of sadness. "You could have died just then, MC. Why wouldn't you just ask for some help?" His voice is softer, "I was right there" and softer still, almost desperate.

"I..." He could tell whatever you were about to say was difficult for you, "I'm just so afraid of being a burden"

He's heartbroken, "You're my best friend, my player two, my Henry th-the- the person I love" He goes red again and quickly continues as if to bury the words beneath more words, "You're a lot of things, MC, but you're not a burden"

Asmodeous

Worrying is bad for the skin. Worrying is bad for the skin. Worrying is bad for the skin. But he can't help it.

One night you get home particularly late, and none of the brothers have seen you. They were about to send out a search party when you finally came home.

When he finds out you walked home alone again, and were so late because you got lost, that's when he finally decides to confront you.

"You walked home alone again? And took WHICH street?! MC don't you know how dangerous it is for a human in the Devildom, especially one with no real magical powers? Not to mention in that area!"

How were you supposed to know? You were lost. He knows these things, but doesn't give you a chance to point them out.

"Beel saw you leave right after classes. If you were so lost why didn't you call one of us?" he asks. The worry and exasperation is plain in his voice.

"I..." you start, "I didn't want to bother anyone that's all" but he can tell there's more to it than that.

"Why are you so worried about bothering us? Don't you know we care about you?" He asks, concern slowly turning to sadness.

"I just don't want to be a burden..."

His eyes go wider than before, which you didn't think was possible. "What in the three realms would give you the idea that you're a burden? MC, you're so precious to me, and if anything were to ever happen, I-"

He begins welling up with tears and pulls you into a tight hug.

"MC, I was worried sick. We all were. Please... Come to me when you need help... I love you"

Satan

He walked in and found you trying to use a chef knife to open a can, brought you the can opener, and ultimately left; not entirely sure what to make of the situation yet.

The next time he saw you, you were climbing on top of an unsteady looking stack of books to reach something in the House's library.

Were those one of his stacks? Had you stacked them yourself? It didn't matter. What mattered was that the books all began slipping out from under you.

He rushed over, and caught you with ease as you fell, but your momentum ended up knocking you both to the ground.

He sighs, "What am I going to do with you?"

"Sorry, " you let out an embarrassed laugh, "Are you okay?"

"Yea, and you?" he asks. You nod, and he helps you up. To his confusion you immediately begin stacking the books back up.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asks, suspicious. It looks like you're about to try to climb the stack again.

"There's a book I need" He was right.

This must be how Lucifer feels. He sighs again, and grabs your hand to stop you.

"You can't keep doing stuff like this, MC. It's dangerous" He looks serious, but his cheeks are a little pink, "I'm worried about you. Why won't you ask for help?"

"I..." You start, but hesitate, averting your eyes.

"Tell me the truth, MC" Satan almost pleads, a sad look in his eyes.

"I don't want to be a burden... that's all..." You say, so quietly it's almost a sigh.

Suddenly it all made sense; the way you tried to hide when you were upset, how you always carried just a little too much, the way you always offered to help, even if there was little work to do... Why hadn't he put the pieces together before now?

"Then, I need you to do something for me" He says, after thinking a moment. He steps closer, "I need you to start asking for help,"

He pulls you close, and hugs you tightly, "I know it'll be difficult, but that's why I'll always be there for you"

He pulls away slightly, still holding you, to look into your eyes. His face is very red now, "I'll do whatever it takes to show you that you're not a burden," Kindness and determination burn in his eyes as he leans in for a kiss.

Beelzebub

He was walking down the hall when he spots you down at the other end near an open window.

The wind blew something out of your hand, so you leaned out the window to try to grab it. This is when Beel got worried, his instincts kicked in and he picked up his pace.

Your homework got caught by the wind, but stopped by some of the vines clinging to the House of Lamentation, so you leaned out the window but it was just out of reach. You knew you could get it if you could reach just a little further, so you lean out a little more... Just a little more...

Unfortunately that's when you lost balance, and felt yourself tip forward. You'd be out the window in no time flat, and then you'd be flattened on the ground.

Thankfully Beel was able to grab you by the waist and hoist you back inside to safety.

You thank him, and explain the situation but he still looks confused.

"Why wouldn't you just come get one of us? We could've easily gotten it down for you" he asks.

"I thought I'd be able to reach" you try, with an embarrassed and unconvincing smile.

"Tell me the truth, MC. Why are you so afraid to ask for help?"

"I don't want to be a burden..." You say softly, sadness written plainly on your face and in your voice.

"Oh" You look up and the sad, sympathetic look Beel gives you makes you want to cry. "I know the feeling"

"You do?" You ask, tears beginning to spill over

"You think I don't know how many problems my stomach causes for everyone?" He gives you a slightly more serious look, "But that doesn't matter" And now a reassuring, although still slightly sad smile, "Because the people who love and care about you will never think of you as a burden. And trust me, MC, there are plenty of people who love and care about you"

"Like who?" You didn't want to ask, part of your brain knew the answer, but you just had to silence those negative voices.

Beel blushed, "Like me" he says, then silently wipes the tears from your face and pulls you into the softest, safest hug you've ever felt.

Belphegor

He wasn't worried at all initially. Sure humans are fragile compared to demons, but they're not that fragile. Plus you've survived this long on your own and now you've got demons, angels, a prince, and a sorcerer all looking out for you. Not to mention the way brothers' tend to exaggerate.

He was laying outside under a large tree, intending to try out a new nap spot, when he saw you leaning out of the window.

He smiled and was about to wave when he realized something was wrong. You were leaning too far out of the window. You were going to-

He jolted upright like he'd been hit by lightning as he watched you lose your balance

He already knew there was no way he'd be able to make it to you in time, even with demonic speed.

Thankfully Beel was there. Belphie let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding when he saw Beel pull you back inside and got up to go make sure you're alright.

He realizes his brothers were right to be worried, and he's angry about it.

You're on your way back to your room by the time he catches up with you, but he can see that your eyes are red from crying, and his anger evaporates. He asks you what's wrong, and you explain everything.

Why you almost fell out the window, your conversation with Beel, and how you're afraid of being a burden.

"Well, Beel's right, you could never be a burden to any of us" He says, so don't even worry about it" he says, giving you an easy smile, despite how sad he felt for his human.

"That's... Easier said than done..." You reply, unconvinced.

"That's why I'll always be by your side, MC. I won't even give you the chance to worry about it!"

He pulls you into a hug and strokes your hair, starting the waterworks all over again. He'll hold you until you've calmed down again, and then pull you up to the attic where you two can make a pillow fort and nap.

He'll probably also start a tickle fight just to hear you laugh again.

Btw, who made you feel this way, MC, he just wants to murder torture talk.

Diavolo

Lucifer has shared his concerns, as he often does, so Diavolo is aware of your reckless nature. He finds it somewhat amusing, but mostly concerning.

It's during one of the events that he finally witnesses it for himself.

He always found it sweet how you tried to help everyone, and you were doing it again. You were running around helping all of the brothers with everything. He doesn't know how those seven managed without you before you came to the Devildom, and the way they rely on you is more than a little amusing.

This time you were helping Asmo with decorations, but he seemed to have disappeared somewhere, no doubt to fix his makeup, or to take a break to avoid sweating too much.

When Diavolo walked in his eyes went wide. You were using progressively taller stacks of chairs to climb the tallest stack in the room in order to hang decorations on the ceiling, and your arms were so full of supplies that there was no way you could balance properly on the already unsteady stacks.

He'd already made it to the base of the stacks when the one you were on started to wobble.

"MC!" he called out in a panic, but this seemed to startle you, and the jolt caused you, the stack of chairs, and all your decorations to come crashing down.

Diavolo caught you effortlessly, and shielded you from any flying chairs in the process.

"Mc, are you okay?" He asks, eyes still wide, "what in the Devildom were you thinking?"

"Sorry, I was just trying to help" you say

He feels anger towards the brothers creeping in the back of his mind. That they would leave you alone, with so much work, and still none of them are to be found after such a loud crash; it's unacceptable. But he pushes those thoughts back for now.

"That was dangerous, even for a demon. You could have been seriously injured just now," The look of concern on his face tugs at your heart.

"Sorry" you mumble again, "You can put me down, now... I should start cleaning up"

"Forgive me for being selfish," He smiles a little, "But I don't think I want to put you down just yet. The clean up can wait"

Your face reddens. You're not sure what to say to that, but you can't deny that it feels good to be held like this in his strong arms.

He looks briefly around at the mess of scattered chairs and decorations that you had intended to hang and clean up by yourself, "Tell me, MC," He looks back to you, "You seem to have a hard time asking for help, why is that?"

You're surprised by the directness of the question, and look away. He notices, and feels a bit guilty, but knows that if things continue the way they are, you will definitely get hurt one day.

"I guess it's because... I'm afraid of being a burden" you answer honestly. You feel that you owe him that much.

"I see..." He hums, then smiles happily, "Then perhaps I should carry you around until you admit that you are not a burden!"

"WHAT?" the look on your face makes him laugh heartily.

"Just kidding!" He chuckles, "...Maybe"

"Diavolo that's- I-"

"You are extraordinary, MC," There's a serious look on his face now, "In fact I could describe you in a million different ways, but the word 'burden' would never be among them"

He begins walking out of the room, still carrying you in his arms.

"What are you doing? What about the decorations?"

"I think I'd like to keep you to myself for the day, if that's alright with you, my dear" Diavolo smiles down at you.

As you two walk down the hall, away from the ballroom you hear the brothers' voices as they enter, "Whoa? What the heck happened in here?" Mammon exclaims.

Barbatos

He had invited you for tea, and you offered to help Barbatos make and serve it.

You try to carry too much, and in your rush drop the entire tray, shattering the beautiful tea set and all of the plates of desserts.

"I'm so sorry!" You immediately bend down and begin tying to pick up the pieces, "I'll replace it-" You stop as you realize that you're not sure you could even afford to replace a royal tea set.

"Allow me to help" Barbatos says, bending down.

"No, no, it's fine! I can get it!" You look up and give him an unconvincing smile, and while you're not paying attention to what you're doing, you slice your hand open on one of the sharp pieces of porcelain.

Barbatos pulls a roll of gauze and bandages out of one of his pockets, "Let's get this taken care of, shall we?" he says, but you're still picking up pieces with your other hand.

"I can do it, I just-..."

"It's only a tea set," As Barbatos stills your frantic hands, he notices your tears.

"I'm sorry," You finally say after a long moment of silence, during which he begins bandaging your injured hand, "I tried to help, but I was still only a burden after all..." Barbatos is surprised by this admission, to say the least.

"You should know that It makes me very happy to be able help and take care of people. I especially enjoy the way your face lights up with a tinge of surprise whenever I do something for you that you are not expecting..." He pauses in thought, and looks as though he's realized something that makes him sad, but whatever it is, he keeps it to himself. He finishes bandaging your hand, and places his on the side of your face.

"MC, It is a pleasure, and genuinely brings me joy to be able to do things for you. Please allow me to help you more often."

He takes a handkerchief out of his pocket and dries your tears.

He leads you to sit in a comfortable chair, "Please, rest until you feel better, and allow me to take complete care of you today"

He makes some tea and food for you both to share and makes sure you don't have to lift a finger for the rest of the day, leaving the broken tea set completely forgotten on the floor in the other room for the time being.

He always has kind words for you whenever you see each other, and while he enjoys your help in the kitchen, he always makes sure not to let you do too much, and he never lets you clean up.

He takes extra care of you from now on, and Diavolo finds it absolutely adorable, though he may be a tiny bit jealous.

Solomon

You might've actually given this man a heart attack.

He would've thought it was funny if it hadn't looked like the bookshelf was about to come crashing down on top of you.

"Don't worry! I'm used to climbing things; I'm careful!" You try to convince him, "That does not, in fact, make me feel any better, MC"

He dedicates time to teaching you a levitation spell or two, depending on your magical abilities, so you don't have to climb things any more.

As he's teaching you he decides to ask you about the book shelf incident.

"Something's been on my mind lately" He says, turning to you as you practice. You ask him what it is as you turn your attention to his face and notice that he looks troubled. "The other day, in the library. You knew I was there, sitting nearby... Why didn't you just ask for my help?"

"Oh, I just thought I could get the book myself" That wasn't the answer he was looking for, so he presses on.

"But surely it would've been easier to use a ladder, then. wouldn't it?"

"Well... I- uh- wasn't sure where they were" you sounded a little embarrassed, and turned your attention back to the spell.

Solomon looks a little saddened, "Hmm..." he pauses. You didn't want his help and you didn't even want to ask him a simple question? "MC, is there a reason you didn't want to ask me for help?" Watching you, he saw that the question gave you pause.

"I... have a hard time asking for help sometimes..." You admit, hoping that's the end of it. But of course, it isn't.

"Oh?" he gently prompts you to explain.

He can tell that you're only pretending to pay attention to the spell now, to avoid eye contact, "I've just always been afraid of being a burden"

His face grows sadder for a moment, but you continue to avoid his gaze. He folds his arms, and moves a closed fist to his chin in thought.

"I think that sometimes, not asking for help can be more of a burden" he says, finally catching your attention. You look up questioningly and he continues in a gentle voice, "Think about it, you're placing too much of the burden on yourself, which is making everyone around you worry. And besides that, what if you get hurt? Then you'll need more help from others than you would have in the first place"

It's your turn to look troubled. You hadn't realized that you were worrying everyone, or that you were causing them trouble.

He lets you think for a moment, before placing a comforting hand on your back.

"MC, it's okay to rely on others. People like it when you ask for help. It makes them feel special to you" He says, and when you look up he's giving you one of the kindest smiles you've ever seen on this shady magic boomer's face.

He hopes you catch his little hint, I want to feel special to you, MC

"Thank you, Solomon. I'd never thought of it that way" you smile back, "I'll try to ask for your help more often"

"I'll look forward to it!" He says with an even brighter smile.

Simeon

He noticed just in time; you had decided to walk home alone again and two suspicious looking demons were about to corner you down an alley.

You were scared, you think they had been following you for at least a couple blocks, and now you had nowhere to go. You were at a dead end.

"You two want to leave." A familiar voice, "NOW." Simeon was smiling, but he looked so intimidating in the shadow of the alley, and something ominous was also radiating off of him. Was he angry?

"C'mon it's not worth it" one of the demons said, "Killjoy" said the other. Simeon watches them leave with an intimidating expression before finally approaching you.

"MC, are you alright?" He asks, features now full of concern.

"Yea! Thanks for that, I was starting to get a little worried"

The concern on his face grows, didn't you know how much danger you'd been in just then? "Those two had been following you for a while... Why didn't you call out for help? Or call someone on your D.D.D?"

"Well... I- I just thought maybe they were walking in the same direction, so I wasn't sure..." You sounded nervous.

How could you be unsure? Simeon had never seen a more suspicious looking pair of demons in his life, and if you'd heard what they were saying they wanted to do to you, you'd understand why he was angry. He sighs.

He notices you're shaking, ever so slightly. Maybe you had overheard... You seemed to be more shaken than you were trying to let on.

In the silence he realizes that this part of town wouldn't be part of your normal route back to the House of Lamentation, "Were you lost?" You nod. "Why not ask for directions?" He asks

"Everyone was so busy when I left RAD... I didn't want to bother them. They're always taking care of me as it is... I just thought..."

So that's why you were walking home alone

"I'll walk you back then" he offers you his hand, and you want to take it, but to his surprise you can't bring yourself to.

"That's alright! You've already done so much for me. I'm sure I can find my way home now!" You try to force a smile, but Simeon can see right through you.

"MC... What's really going on?" His face is serious again but his voice is kind as he steps closer and rests a hand on your shaking arm.

You can't hold back tears any more, "I... Just don't... want to be a burden... to anyone" The quiet words break Simeon's heart.

Who could've made you feel this way?

He draws you into a strong, gentle hug, cradling the back of your head to hold you closer and stroke your hair.

"Don't ever think like that, MC" He breathes into your ear, "You are so loved"

Luke

You're going to give this smoll baby angel a heart attack, and there's not much he can even do to about it.

You were carrying too much, like you always do, and Luke noticed almost too late.

You were heading straight for the stairs, and your books and supplies were stacked too high for you to see!

"MC, LOOK OUT!" he shouts.

You stop just as your foot passes the threshold of the first stair and you feel the drop.

You drop everything you're carrying, but thanks to Luke's warning you stopped your own momentum before you could tumble down the stairs with everything else.

Relief floods through Luke as you stare at the mess, shaken and disheartened by the prospect of the clean up.

He runs to you, demanding to know that you're okay.

Of course he helps you clean up and carries as much as he can for you.

He's always offering to carry things for you now, even if all you have is a book or two.

He keeps a nervous eye on you from now on too.

Give this poor baby angel a hug.

[mack3030]

Hi there, I just wanted to thank you for continuing to be a positive voice for the community. After I started reading your blog, I began to pay closer attention to which creators I downloaded CC from and I even ceased supporting several of them after realizing how predatory, rule breaking and unreasonable their business practices truly were. You and your blog have really opened my eyes to how dangerous some of the behaviors that run rampant in the CC community are to not only myself but to others as well.

Thank you so much. Notes like this remind me why I do what I do. :) It's really funny how certain people seem to act like I'm the toxic and predatory one when I literally make no money doing this. In fact, I've risked my own safety, and yes, even the safety of my income to do this. [I have written before about previous attempts that people have made to make me lose my job.] One thing that has always been really interesting to me, especially as of late, is how the paywaller community is engaging in behavior that seems very much like MLMs. A few examples of how they are similar: - Toxic positivity culture. You aren't allowed to say anything negative against them or else you're a "hater", or "toxic". - Title/Name Manipulation Calling themselves a "business" or "brand" when in reality they are nothing more than someone selling something that isn't fully their own creation/intellectual property. - Selling a fake reality Just like how people in MLMs try to sell the reality that their life has been changed by their product and that everything is **wonderful and amazing**, you'll find paywallers often do the same thing. Either through their "virtual" sims life, or by trying to portray themselves as a more successful brand/larger team than they actually are. - Using cult-like manipulation/control tactics to control members of their patreons and/or friend groups. If you read Steve Hassan's BITE Model of Authoritarian Control, you'll notice a LOT of behaviors that paywallers engage in. While not ALL of them are possible due to the unique situation we have in the Sims 4 CC community, you'll find that quite a few of them are commonly used with paywalling simmers. MLMs, Cults, Authoritarian Regimes, and yes...paywallers all use some of the tactics in this model to try to control people. So if you needed some 🚩🚩🚩's to look for...there are a few good ones here. Thank you so much for the encouragement, again. I really hope that you continue to read and learn and grow. I know I have been. I keep hoping that my posts will cause other people to speak out and talk about what they have seen. Because the more people talk about this, the more chance there is for real change to happen. Because right now, EA is doing nothing to regulate the community, so the community has to regulate itself. And honestly, we're doing a pretty piss poor job of it. And frankly, with sims 5 on the eventual horizon, I fear that all we're doing as a community is basically saying: Oh yes! We're 100% fine with paying through the nose for extra content for the sims, especially in some sort of player marketplace! Which frankly, I don't think would bode well for us having a sharing, collaborative, and low-cost community in the sims 5. Instead, I think they'd probably end up going more for a secondlife-esque marketplace with EA getting a cut. And frankly, the players would lose out on that because they'd have to pay for next to everything. The only way something like that won't happen is if it is blatently obvious to EA/the sims team that the community wouldn't stand for it. And well....

But one benefit of the eventual sims 5 is that maybe paywallers will leave sims 4 alone...(finally). [One can hope, right?] Have an epic day/night!

[holykillercake]

FRIED EGGS

KOBY x Pirate!Reader

word count: 2k

summary: Being infiltrated as a Marine and keeping your feelings under control was easy until you were assigned to work with Marine Captain Koby. How you wished he was a jerk.

highlight: ¨I am kissing you... but I am angry, Y/N-san...¨

warnings: read under the risk of developing diabetes.

notes: Hey, guys! This was a lovely request from @pure-kirarin! <3 I had to stop other projects to make this one because Koby threw me out of my comfort zone hahaha I really hope you like!! ALSO 1) Happy Birthday Sabo-kun! ALSO 2) In order to add more dept to the story, the main character is part of a Yonkos´crew, but I wrote in a way that all fit, so choose your favorite! ALSO 3) ART ALERT!

Leave comments, hearts and love!

¨You have been doing a remarkable job in such little time, Commander L/N. We all have great expectations regarding your transference to our Marine Headquarters.¨ 

The words of the Rear Admiral barely scratched your mind as you discreetly observed the pink-haired boy´s reflection on the crystal clear window. 

He maintained a similar posture to yours: chin up, chest out, shoulders back, and stomach in. However, while your fingers remained paralleled to your trousers, you took a glimpse of his clenched fist, thumb fidgeting the side of his index finger. 

¨Vice Admiral Tsuru was reluctant to sign your transfer. She said you remind her of herself in the past, which is always an excellent compliment to hear.¨ you nodded, acknowledging his words  ¨We´re glad we convinced her.¨

Your heart warmed with his words, and you almost felt bad because you knew the disappointing outcome O-Tsuru-san would have at the end of this. She trained you with the iron face of a merciless soldier, and the elegance that resembled the animal of her name.

It has been three years since you received the green card from your captain to part ways in a long-term solo mission. A journey to excavate the putrid secrets of the so-called defenders of the law. You learned after a short time that justice is not so black and white.

Not that you planned to reveal the dirt, no. That intel your captain could sell to the Revolutionary Army and keep the capital running. You were interested in the arms race, the corrupt diplomacy, and more importantly, the dark pipes where traitors flowed.

Someone from inside the Yonkos was feeding the Marines with crucial information about the Emperors´ activities. And in such a close fight, you could not take those risks.

All other Emperors must have their own undercover agents within the Marines, but even that was a dispute. You could point some names to your boss, who confirmed what was suspected. Those would usually be the best of the best, extravagant and loud.

But not you. You didn't have to make that much noise. You slid between the floors of New Marineford like a snake swimming with the current. Earning the respect of your superiors and being promoted without ringing any bells. You accepted each medal with a firm salutation and relentless performance. 

¨The trip must have been displeasing. Submerging ten thousand meters underwater and rising to these fiendish waters require a good rest. Our Marine Captain Koby will escort you to your quarters, Commander Y/N. The remaining instructions shall be presented tomorrow.¨

You saluted the Rear Admiral in front of you and turned to the exit, passing by Koby, who waited for you to leave first.  When your paths crossed, the pace of your heartbeats quickened, pumping more blood through your body and leaving a burning sensation on your cheeks. 

The involuntary response was instantly interpreted as alertness to danger, which needed to be handled with caution. 

Can´t let my guard down around this one, you thought.

In fact, you planned to keep as much distance as you could from him. An officer let slip that he has been gaining incredible control over his Observation Haki since the Paramount War. 

But the wind seemed to change direction, and you began to swim against the current. When the morning came, you were assigned to be his partner for an undetermined time, and he would act as your superior. The idea of being bossed around by a younger marine got your temper sparked. 

Only he was not like the others, treating you in a patronizing and condescending way. He spoke to you with the same cordiality and politeness he addressed everybody else. 

Slowly, your concrete cold expression began to soothe. You would still remind yourself how annoying his good manners were, though. So annoying, seriously!

¨Good morning, Y/N-san!¨ he greeted as you joined him for breakfast. 

¨Good morning, Koby.¨ 

¨Our Border Force correspondent sent his report early in the morning with information about possible Yonkos´ alliances in the Wano Country. We are arranging a meeting as soon as possible.¨ 

You didn´t like to handle work so early, but this subject, in particular, raised your spirits. ¨Good. It was about time.¨

You noticed that he wore a different headband. ¨What happened?¨ 

¨Hm?¨ he brought the soup bowl close to his mouth. 

¨The bandana. Green, with the fried eggs.¨ he choked on the miso soup, coughing like he had swallowed poison. 

You reached for a paper tissue and handed it to him. ¨K-Koby, are you ok?¨

¨Y-Y/N... Y/N-san...¨ he coughed some more ¨They´re not... fried eggs...¨

¨Oh...¨ your brows raised slightly ¨What are they?¨

A depressive aura grew around him ¨They are flowers, YN-san...¨

The edge of your lips contorted as you tried to hide a smile. You haven´t felt like smiling genuinely for years. Annoying boy!

From that moment on, ignoring him became more difficult. He started to ask you to train with him or invite you to spend some time with him and Helmeppo whenever you had free time. Eventually, he began to ask you how he looked before an important meeting. 

Most of the time, you would reply something like ¨ok¨. But sometimes, the mouth was quicker than the brain, and you would let an ¨impeccable¨ slip out, followed by an awkward throat clearing and blushed cheeks. 

From both sides.

•

¨Oh my-¨ you stopped yourself from finishing the sentence. 

You were chosen to complete this mission due to your excellent skills in hiding emotions and acting calm under stressful situations. No one could break you. 

Within the Marines, no joke could make you crack a smile, and no torture could make you spill secrets. 

Why did you want to ask if he was ok?

Koby had entered his office with bumps and bloody bruises over his face. His always neat uniform was blotchy, and he carried a first aid kit. 

¨Garp-san paid a visit.¨ He sat on the couch and opened the white box, throwing everything on the coffee table. ¨I bet it wasn't like this with Tsuru-san.¨ he chuckled. 

¨No. She would beat me up, wash me and hang me up to dry.¨ 

You shot from the chair, moving towards the clumsy pinkette, who struggled to attend to his injuries. He tried to hold the mirror with one hand and suture his gash with the other. 

¨Thank yo-¨

¨Shh. Don´t move.¨

You leaned closer to have a better look, giving Koby the same chance. Your delicate perfume smelled like it was tailor-made for you. Your breathing was slightly irregular, and your lip twitched with every given stitch. Your fingers felt like feathers on his skin, so much that he didn´t even feel a sting. 

The job was fast and efficient, making Koby wish Garp had put more effort into his Love Fist. Grabbing a piece of wet cotton, you cleaned the dried blood.  

¨Alright...¨ you whispered.

¨Alright...¨ he whispered back.

You were inches apart from his face, your eyes traveling across the scar on his forehead, the pink locks, and kind features. Your mind traced back all the way to the Paramount War. You had very little knowledge about him, but the words he spoke that day have always made your heart pound like cannonballs. 

You will make an excellent Admiral one day, Koby. 

I hope you don´t hate me. 

¨Y-Y/N-san...¨

¨Hm?¨

¨Your smile is beautiful.¨

¨What?¨ The stupid scene of yours was interrupted like a DJ stopping the record player. 

With cheeks getting pinker than his hair, you shot up and marched back to the chair and your newspaper. ¨You clean this up.¨ 

He left a low chuckle out and began gathering the mess. 

Oh, no, Y/N. You have got to be kidding me. 

He is a freaking marine. Breathe. 

There were a vast number of reasons why you couldn´t like him: from him being a Marine Captain and you being a pirate to the fact that your mission was coming to a conclusion.

Meaning that your journey as his partner would be very soon reaching its end. The meeting with this mysterious correspondent regarding the Yonkos´ operations in the New World would be the last move in this chess game. You would be going home. Mission completed. Everything perfect, right? 

Right, perfect. Impeccable! Ugh!

•

¨... confirm secure line.¨

¨This is Border Officer code 404890. Secure line confirmed.¨ you spoke with a low but clear voice through the nail transponder. 

¨What´s the status on our birdie?¨

¨Positive. The birdie is located at 03:24:01.¨ you gave your boss a coordinate to the name of the Marine informant. The answer you took three years to find out remained on file number one, third page, suspect number twenty-four. 

An amused laugh echoed on your end, and you buried the speaker on your jacket to muffled the sound. 

¨At least he is not one of ours.¨ a chuckle ¨Great job, Y/N.¨

¨Thank you, boss.¨

¨I know this mustn't have been easy, but you were impeccable as always.¨

Yeah, impeccable. 

¨You know the protocol now. We´ll see each other in a few days. You´ll have a party waiting for you, kid.¨

¨Aye, aye, boss. But I want the good booze.¨  Both of you laughed. 

You finished the call, and the smile on your lips died as the image of a pink-haired boy invaded your mind. You wished he was a jerk like everybody else. 

It would have been so easy. 

¨Who were you talking to?¨ your chest contracted, pushing the air out of your lungs and sending extra blood supply to your muscles. 

You hid the transponder into your jacket and turned, facing your Marine Captain. 

¨Eavesdropping, Koby?¨

What should I do?

¨Y/N-san, who were you talking to?¨ he repeated himself, offering the benefit of the doubt. You sighed.

¨My captain.¨ 

Why the need to be honest with him?

¨Y/N-san, please don´t tell me-¨

¨I´m sorry, Koby. I wish I didn´t have to do this.¨ you couldn´t bring yourself to face him.

¨A-Are you a pirate? Why?¨

You chuckled ¨Why am I a pirate?¨

¨Why did you do this?¨ his face was pale, making your guts twitch in guilt.

¨I´m on a mission. But I´ll leave soon.¨

¨You are like... Vergo-san.¨ he sounded disappointed.

¨I am nothing like Vergo. You know this.¨ or at least you hoped he did. 

He closed the door slowly, eyes fixed on your figure. The bright light from the window made him look like an ethereal painting.

While you tried to predict his next move, whether he was going to interrogate you or kick your ass, Koby acted calm and collected, not hesitating. He trusted his Observation Haki to guide his next move. Or maybe his heart.

You saw a pink blur closing distance like a missile, and before you could dodge, his hands pulled you by the waist, connecting your bodies and lips. 

He forced your back to meet the thick window with a gasp that was muffled by the kiss. His touch was rough upon the fabric of your uniform, but his mouth felt soft against yours.

Your hands moved to his hair, removing the round pair of glasses and the green bandana so you could get lost in his locks. His grip was harsh under the fabric of your uniform, but his hair felt soft on your fingertips. 

A moan escaped your lips when he parted the kiss with a loud snap and struck the glass with both hands, keeping you trapped in the middle. You let go of his hair and grabbed him by the collar, not letting him go away.

¨I am kissing you... but I am angry, Y/N-san...¨ his breath was heavy and carried with a myriad of emotions. 

¨I know... I am sorry.¨

¨Why?¨

¨Because I like you, Koby. A lot.¨ he paused for a second, fighting the urge to admit the same.

¨What was your mission?¨

This is the last lie, I promise, Koby. ¨The Marines possessed vital information about something my boss wants. I needed to get it.¨

¨Now that I know that you´re a pirate and that you stole Marine´s assets, I´m gonna have to hunt you down.¨

¨I´ll be waiting for you.¨ 

You stared him in the eyes, and he kissed you to stop himself from saying what he really wanted. 

I love you, Y/N-san.

Diary of Koby-Meppo: The Fried Egg Life Crisis.

💕 @vemuabhi

[batsandbugs]

The Great IKEA Game

Chapter 1 - Meet the Players

Marinette originally came to the IKEA an hour outside of Gotham to buy twinkle lights for her new living room. She eventually extended her trip into obtaining new dishes since all she had right now was empty takeout containers she kept rewashing. She would have been very content getting what she needed and being on her way, (no, she wasn't lonely Plagg, she had two dozen mini-gods to keep her company, shut up) but halfway between the bedding and lights sections, Marinette’s life changed forever. 

For the better, if she was being honest. 

She never would have realized it if she hadn’t ducked into a showroom to test out a couch. She settled against the fluffy folds, knowing it would be destroyed within minutes if she ever brought it home when she noticed him. A boy, no man, about her age, hiding behind a desk looking for all the world as if he were plotting world domination or someone’s demise. 

They looked at each other in shock for a moment. 

“Are… are you ok-”

“Shhh!” his green eyes narrowed, and boy, Marinette had been on the receiving end of death glares before, but this one had to take the cake. 

“Sorry,” she whispered. 

He rolled his eyes. “Do you see a group of dark-haired obnoxious idiots out there?” he asked. 

The request was an odd one, but Marinette rose from the couch and glanced around outside of the showroom. She didn’t see anyone fitting his description. She shook her head. 

He smirked. “My idiot older brothers dragged me along for a “family bonding experience”." He made the little quotation marks, and Marinette never thought anyone could look cool doing that, but somehow this person nailed it. "Tt. I’ve successfully avoided them for an hour. Didn’t know when the coast would be clear though.” He rose gracefully from the ground, looking all the more like a prince, rather than a crazy person hiding from his family. 

It was absurd. 

Marinette found herself instantly amused. 

“I have friends exactly like that, I totally get it,” she said, thinking how Adrian would be beside himself when she told him the story later. The pang of loneliness that had been present since she’d left her friends in Paris, for college in America re-emerged. She shook her head of the maudlin thoughts. 

The Kwamis would have had a field day with this idea too, thankfully she had left them in her severely under-furnished apartment for the day in order to avoid the squabbling that came with only taking a few of them out of the house.  

Marinette looked back out at the hallway again, wondering if the man's brothers would soon appear, finding herself invested in what would happen. “What are you going to do now?” 

“Well, Drake has the keys, and those idiots will be at their shenanigans till the store closes, so…” he shrugged. 

“Are they like… furnishing a whole house?” Marinette didn’t know how you could spend an entire day here. Sure, it was big, but… 

“No. We’re engaged in a no holds barred game of hide-and-seek.” Marinette’s mouth dropped open. “If one of them catches me I become the seeker.” 

“Why?” 

He smirked, “Because I’ve held out the longest.” 

"No, I mean, why are you playing hide-and-seek?" It seemed an odd choice for a bunch of adults. Well, Marinette and her friends would do it. But they also willing became superheroes at the age of fourteen so their judgment was already in question.   

He shrugged. "My oldest brother thought it would be fun, and our father is... out of town at the moment," he said with a bit of hesitation. 

“So, you’re just going to hide in this showroom till the store closes?” 

A devious smile spread across the man’s handsome features. “No. I intend to troll them. If Grayson wants my participation, I'm going to make him regret it.” 

It was at that moment she crossed the point of no return, not that Marinette knew it yet.

Throwing away any idea of finishing her shopping today she returned his smirk. “Any chance I could join you in your crusade?” 

The guy looked her over suspiciously. “Why should I allow a stranger to join me and potentially ruin my chances at victory?” 

Marinette thought for a moment. “Well, your brothers know you well?” He nodded. “Then they likely know what you’ll do to avoid and troll them. You need a fresh perspective. Plus, I can operate out in the open, I’m not officially a part of the game.” 

“Hmm...” his face was impassive; Marinette couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “You make some good points, but I’m not fully convinced.” 

Marinette huffed, “I also grew up in Paris without being akumatized.” 

He looked at her oddly. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Paris had a terrorist for five years that turned people into monsterized versions of themselves if they felt negative feelings. They were called Akuamas. Everyone in my class had it happen to them at least once. More for some particularly loose cannons.” 

The guy looked bewildered. “Why didn’t anyone hear about this?” 

Marinette shrugged, trying to play off her knowledge as what a normal civilian would know. “Combination of corrupt politicians, social media blackouts, and magic. People died during these attacks, but everything was put to rights at the end of every fight due to the superheroes powers.” 

His mouth dropped, but he recovered quickly looking contemplative. “I want to know more about this at a later time, but if what you say is true you can control yourself better than the average peon. But my brothers and I are a combination of street orphans, circus brats, gymnastics freaks, and geniuses - are you sure you can keep up?” 

Marinette nearly laughed at his description but managed to keep a straight face. “Positive.” 

“Alright, I'll do whatever it takes to win.” He offered her his hand. “I’m Damian.” 

She took it, feeling a slight shock as her fingers touched his. “I’m Marinette, nice to meet you, Damian.” 

“You won’t be saying that soon enough,” he said with a slight smirk. He looked over her shoulder. “Shit.” He dove beneath the desk he’d been hiding behind earlier. “Tall guy with the white streak in his hair.” Marinette turned to look. “Don’t make it too obvious,” he hissed. 

Marinette grabbed her phone and leaned against the desk. With small side glances, she saw a man probably mid to late twenties with two-toned hair. He wore a leather jacket and seemed to be searching for something, or someone. 

“Who’s that?” she asked quietly. 

“Second oldest brother, Jason Todd - arguably the most and least dangerous.” 

“Why both?” 

“He did not want to participate initially, so he’s reluctant, but at the same time, he hates losing.  He’ll hang on to the bitter end. More resourceful than the other two, and more violent, although less sophisticated.” 

Jason moved closer to their showroom. 

“Hush, he’s headed this way,” she whispered. Damian remained quiet and Marinette tried to make herself look busy. 

“Quick question miss?” Marinette glanced up from her phone. Jason stood at the entrance to the showroom. 

“Oh, uh, oui? Non, non, I mean yes?” Marinette said in an exaggerated accent, playing into the oblivious tourist stereotype always came in handy. 

“Oh French, shit, haven’t spoken that in a while,” he muttered. “Um...” 

“Non, it iz okay, I speak English well. Can I help you?” She batted her eyes just a bit. Marinette had long since grown from the days of not using all her advantages - courtesy of forced confidence from Chole. A friendship no one had seen coming but had grown quick and strong once they reached an understanding. 

“Oh, I’m looking for my little brother, about yay high, black hair, green eyes, permanent scowl. Have you seen him?” 

Marinette pretended to think for a second. “Non... I do not theenk so, perhaps help desk at zee front?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Jason said, Marinette could see he had already written her off as useless. “Thanks, anyway.” He walked away quickly. 

There was a minute of silence. “Coast is clear,” said Marinette once Jason was out of sight. 

Damian popped up, a gleam in his eyes. “Your lying skills are adequate; we may just win this yet.” 

“I’m glad to meet such high approval, monsieur. Let’s get going.” 

Chapter 2 

Chapter 3 

Chapter 4