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#there are 3 colleges within walking distance. it’s madness
devilsskettle · 1 year
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you’d think that my managers might consider, when making the weekly schedule, that it’s probably not a great idea to schedule only one (1) front desk attendant, with no managers or housekeeping or maintenance present, when the hotel is at 100% occupancy
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vechter · 2 months
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ooh I want to, 1- recommend a piece of media that you love!! (book, tv show, movie, music.) 2- what hobby do you have?? 3-where are you from?? (rural, country, state/province or whatever you are comfortable with sharing.)
oooh. i'm gonna go with tv show for now because i've recently been rewatching some stuff: mad men!!! stellar, stellar show. like truly the amount of research and detail that went into its writing and production- stupendous. deeply complex characters, some heartbreakingly doomed fates, very interesting notions about consumerism and advertising that you can apply to the world even right now. the carousel book, which is a side by side critical guide for each episode has been on my reading list forever and one day i will read it and go even more crazy about the show. also, both jon hamm and january jones are just so fun to look at.
currently really into yoga! i've been doing it daily for a few months now and let me tell u- everybody was telling the truth. feel a very noticeable change in my body and appetite. still working on fixing my sleep but it has definitely improved my sleeping patterns, too. it's my primary motivation to quit all my bad habits rn because i want to be able to do all the crazy yoga poses that require insane flexibility and core strength
i'm a city girl through and through! grew up in south east asia and i've never really lived on my own- even when i went to north america for college, i always had roommates and immediate community/friends around. love having coffee shops or cigarettes within walking distance, love complaining about commuting and traffic and how bad the air quality is. something about how anonymous it can all feel but at the same time, if i go to my favourite take out place right now, they'll recognize me as soon as i walk in.
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supersailorgoku · 1 year
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I got into this stuff all backwards: I’m a diehard Boys fan and got into SPN over a year ago from a coworker while I was gushing over The Boys TV/Comic adaption heavy lifting (especially Soldier Boy; that is a whole essay in itself and I’ve never seen a trick pulled like that for a character that was on maybe 3-4 issues of the comics entire run and how it’s a total Rubik’s Cube move while making him somehow less sympathetic in his TV role - nevermind the entire lifetime it would take to talk about the clear Homelander-shaped elephant in the room, the actual groundwork of a true Kripkeverse and - well, that’s another post!)
My darling coworker - that I would later recognize her amazing, always equipped custom earrings that said JERK and BITCH for entirely different reasons other than social commentary/affirmation - she literally yelped and was like WOODS YOU ARE WATCHING SUPERNATURAL RIGHT NOW YOU ARE GOING TO SIT AND WATCH AN EPISODE and I did and that episode was Scoobynatural S13E18
I was sold so hard it was like a brick was dropped on me. I’m mad in some ways that it was my first whole ass experience because, as I would find later, almost every episode - some Buick-sized exceptions - is a “pilot” episode and you’ll never go wrong just jumping into that pool and hitting shuffle. How rare. Due to that crucial first impression, I cannot do anything but view Supernatural on the shelf that houses both Red Dwarf and Farscape and I say that with complete, utter, gibbering love. Supernatural, to me, is perfect example of any-size-fits. Get in, the water’s fine.
It really is for everybody. It’s got something for everyone and everyone where I live has fucking seen it because they filmed episodes here so it’s one of my few shows - if any - I feel actually talking to with a person who is looking right at me and within striking distance when I say “Bad Day At Black Rock S3E3 and Dog Dean Afternoon S9E5 and should be shown in college-level courses.” I’m real brave like that.
But that crucial introduction; the sheer coincidence of just avoiding a damn near two decades of this particular piece of media made me realize I’ve never been paying much attention to the internet. tumblr least of all and tumblr - man.
This place is an battleground: bloodied and cracked with bullets, craters, and ghosts and angels and acres upon acres of tapestries and paintings and offerings and so many goddamn words and miles of poetry and I’m taking a tourist walk through the settled, pockmarked earth. I can sit on a bench, made on the backs of fans, built around a rock with a plaque filled with names that never end - but it thrives. It hums with life.
I want to divine with extreme patience, using a stack of dvd and blu-rays - all passed from second-hand sources - (with their owners names and I feel like I know them already; there’s that rarity again) - and copious amounts of unmeasurable time ask the hoof prints and the bullet holes and the angelic ghosts what, exactly, happened here.
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kkusuka · 3 years
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Have I told you I hate weak y/n’s that get pushed around by fangirls? No? Well, I hate them 😊
Let’s have Oikawa, Atsumu, Akaashi, Semi, and Terushima react to their normally calm gf, beat the dog shit out of a fangirl that tried to intimidate her for dating said men above. Reader just has a soft smile before cocking her fist back and boxing her shit before holding up the fangirl and looking to the rest like “You wanna end up like her? No? Then know your place~ ☺️”. Then she faces her bf with a sweet smile and says something affectionate like “I brought you lunch, dear. I made it just how you like it 😄” before kissing his cheek like she didn’t go Muhammad Ali on a bitch
<3
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Oikawa Tooru<3
Oikawa’s had more than a few less than pleasant experiences with women
Considering he’s always been surrounded by them, from his sister's friends in middle school and being swarmed by them in High school and college- having women around him was nothing new
And for the most part, they were all pleasant
Giving him little gifts and food- that he always gave to you- and just telling him how much they loved watching him play
All things he can deal with before talking to his favorite girl, you
Though, there have been instances of some bold woman who just never get the hint
Whether it be drunkenness or some weird dream of having Oikawa to herself or just blatant disregard of his relationship
And right now just happens to be one of those times- but now you got a firsthand view of the madness.
Whoever this was clearly didn't understand relationships or personal space for that matter
She had a hand on his chest and was just blubbering about how she would be the best wife for him and would make life so much easier- much more than you do for him- and that was just what you saw from the ten seconds you were in earshot
He would normally laugh it offend continue seeking out autographs but he seemed to be locked in an iron maiden
“I promise! Forget about your girlfriend, she’s useless anyways!” and finally a perfect chance to make yourself known
“Tooru, I have your lun-” you attempted to grab him away, him shooting a pleading look to save him before your wrist was snatched from his arm and tugged away and shoved to the side then pushing your body away from the two
“Back off bitch!”
Now,  you were normally a pretty calm person, you knew how to deal with the women and you have been for years.
But you stand by the fact that it was never ok to put your hands on someone- no matter the situation.
But at that moment, you could care less about your silly reparations and breathing methods, that lady put a hand on you and pushed you
You could hear Tooru telling her to keep her hands off you but you just looked around and made sure that everyone saw what had happened, you don't need to be arrested anytime soon
Grabber her arm you detached her from your boyfriends and in the next second your fist was connecting with her face, watching her wither on the floor you turn to your boyfriend who’s now coming towards you
“As I was saying, I have your lunch.”
Atsumu Miya<3
Another guy who’s constantly surrounded by women
Although he is far less appreciative and nice to them, and he makes it a point to be abundantly clear that you are the only woman he will spend the rest of his life with
Something that wasn't too popular with a few specific fans
Every blue moon someone will find his phone number and blow it up with loving messages or try and get his address
The worst it’s been was someone finding his apartment number and thankfully being too far away to come by themselves but they did send some inappropriate images to his PO box and that led him to create an even thinker line between fans and himself
Thankful, the whole of them understood and respected his boundaries
Buuuuut there are always people who go the extra step
Like whoever this is crowding your boyfriend after a win against the Alders with a giant poster of him and a …. Thong
If you were the slightest more stoic you would have held in the laugh that started it all but it seems crazy is crazy no matter how you provoke them
That lady heard you laugh and the flood gates opened, in a split second her hand was on your cheek then she was on the floor holding what you could hope was a broken jaw
You didn't even realize you punched her until a shooting pain went up your wrist
Though before you had a chance to return to your lovely boyfriend, who was standing in the same spot shell shocked (and slightly turned on)  hand grabbed your ankle the flung you to the ground
It was, for lack of a better term, a catfight
She was hitting you and you were hitting her and she was screaming random shit about how awful you were to her precious Atsumu- seriously this lady was insane
Nevertheless, security arrived, and let’s just say that you were in much better condition than she was, who knew you could fight so well?
Though you weren't allowed to come to the next game and had to apologize to the heads of the Volleyball association, Tsumu was proud of you and the internet was on your side- so it was kind of a win-win
Akaashi Keiji<3
He surprisingly doesn't have a swarm of fangirls around him
But it’s much much worse, you’d rather have a mob of girls around him than the four specific psychos that never leave the poor guy alone
Everywhere in school at least one of them is watching the two of you, in class, at lunch- no matter where you try and eat- you swear you even saw one at the boba show you pass on your walk home with him
The worst part?
He thinks it’s funny.
It is hilarious to him that you try so hard to keep them away full knowing he would never leave you for the likes of them. It’s just too cute how you puff up your cheeks and huff about them and honestly, it's a breath of fresh air considering how much everyone kisses up to him
Well- he likes it when they are at a distance
On the off chance they get close to him, it's a different story. They truly are intolerable, and they away try bad-mouthing you to him like it was supposed to mean something that they don't like you
And they only ever do it when you’re away- cowards they truly are. And since they’re always watching, as soon as you left to buy the two of you lunch, one of them was on him in an instant
She was annoying and all she could say was ho you were a ‘poison’ in his life and he had to leave you as soon as possible
He didn't even realize you were there until a hand grabbed the back of her uniform and flung her off him. And from the looks of it, falling on the ground really hurt
“I’m a poison? That’s all you could come up with?”
You didn't even have to say another word, she was already out of sight
Not missing a beat, you handed him his lunch and started talking about the latest episode of the volleyball anime you loved.
Semi Eita<3
First off- a total power couple
Not only are you willing to beat a bitch, but he’s also ready to hype you up while you do it
It’s not confirmed you have, but there are rumors that you fought more than a few girls who were less than pleasant. And it’s not like you do anything for rumor control, you just laugh and turn the other way
Still, even with the rumor mill running rampant, some girls still try and shoot their shot
But this girl has to be the boldest woman on planet earth
Not only was she flirting with an openly taken man, but she was flirting with him as he held his arm around your waist. She even looked at you as she spoke to him, the audacity of people these days
“You like music? That’s crazy, I do too!” you wanted her to shut the fuck up as soon as possible.
What pissed you off more was that he knew exactly what he was doing, and he was letting it happen to spite you.
What happened after this you blame solely on the alcohol the party was providing and not on the fact you wanted to clock this girl the moment you saw her
It was just that suddenly your drink was in her face
Then her drink was in her face, and she was running to the bathroom, maybe she should listen to rumors more often because you don't think strawberry daiquiri will come out of a white crop too so easily
Terushima Yuji<3
He’s an ass
But he’s your ass, somehow
He’s a manwhore and an attention-whore, mix that should have been shot before it could grow into something more
By now you're used to the girls slipping him their numbers and hitting him up on every social media site possible and you remain happy to say he doesn't respond- probably too busy dicking you down to care about any of them
Plus, less than 1%  of them actually approach them in public, and they just happen to be the most insufferable people on the planet.
Desperation doesn't even describe it
Of that 1%, at least half of them try to touch him, running a hand on his arm, tugging at his clothes, maybe even a strand of his hair, all you can deal with because he knows what’ll happen if he even entertains their advances
But for some reason, the only thing that sets you off is when they mention the tongue piercing.
It invokes a rage unknown within you, the second the metal ball’s mentioned you see red. And he fucking loves it, you could be three prefectures over and the second the girl mentions it, you magically appear at his side like you’d been there the whole time
All of a sudden you’re all over him, disregarding this girls words as she tries to bring the conversation back to her, going as far as grabbing your shoulder, and since she touched you first- you had the green light
Your arm pulled back and your fist connected to her cheek
And like nothing ever happened you turned back to the blond
tags: @diamond-3 @rinsangel @heyheyitsne @angelalje @monisi @crystal-lilac @sadpotato10
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Business (Mis)Management
AYO you know the drill. MGI Trope Tussle! 
Fics Masterlist
Timari Oneshot 2.3K words
Summary: 
"Right before her, where her professor usually stood every Tuesday and Thursday, stood a surprise guest lecturer. One problem, though. Marinette hates the guy. She hates him and his stupid well-fitting suit that she dedicated actual blood sweat and tears into making. "
One shot using two prompts for this server event: Day 3:College AU Day 5: "Why'd you do that?" "I- I don't know..."
without further ado: 
It was Tuesday, bright and early at 9:30 am, and Marinette was ready to commit murder. She was sitting in her Intro to Business Management course with her cup of coffee and notepad ready and pencil about to snap in her grip. Right before her, where her professor usually stood every Tuesday and Thursday, stood a surprise guest lecturer. One problem, though. Marinette hates the guy. She hates him and his stupid well-fitting suit that she dedicated actual blood sweat and tears into making. 
Right there, on this awful Tuesday morning, stood one Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne looking all the world like he would rather be anywhere else; stupid rich people were all the same, thinking the world was doing them a favour by letting them grace everyone else with their presence. Marinette also wishes he was anywhere else but life doesn’t work that way. Her actual professor stood off to the side, waxing sonnets about how accomplished the young CEO was and Marinette listened to none of it. Rather, she was silently stewing in her thoughts, lost in how this man became the particularly large thorn in her side.
It was six months ago when she got an email asking for a commission. A commission for the exact three piece suit he was wearing today. He had gotten her contact from another client and his emailed request was perfect and professional. He had asked for the suit, listed all the required measurements and requested any personalizations he wanted. They couldn’t meet for any in-person fittings so it was currently both aggravating and satisfying to see it fit his lean figure so perfectly. The drama didn’t start, however, until two weeks after, when Marinette had sent the finished product to the designated address. While Marinette isn’t one for showboating and bragging about her capabilities, it grinds her teeth when others try to talk down on her skills. 
When Marinette had sent off the suit, and emailed the man that the package was to be expected within three business days, she got a rather crude email in response, labeling her work as ‘tacky’ and a ‘pathetic attempt at wiggling her way into his family’s pockets.’ That had her doubletaking at the sender, making sure it wasn’t some spam mail that she was reading. Nope, that’s his email right there. Marinette remembered a particular twitch she had in her eye the first time she read that email. It was one thing to be ungrateful of a finished product, Marinette was no stranger to harsh critiques and pieces that worked better on paper than as actualized designs, but the accusation of being a gold-digger set off warning bells that threw her back into the tenth grade where she had battles with a rich blonde with daddy issues. At least he had paid her in advance for the suit. Marinette would have been perfectly fine with silently cutting all ties with Mr. Wayne right then and there, and putting the whole ordeal behind her, until he decided that a crassly worded email wasn’t enough. No. He felt compelled to go on national television and insult her suit for everyone to hear. Marinette remembers his words perfectly, as if they were ingrained in her memory forever.
“You’ve seen the suits I’ve worn, I look like I escaped my own funeral. I’ve tried local, and outsourcing designers and tailors and nothing matches my taste. I’m only twenty-three and I dress like I’ve gone through my third divorce—”Marinette had turned off the television to shamelessly cry into her pillow. She couldn’t bear to hear him insult her design over the poorly timed laughs of the ‘live-studio audience’ that particular interview was filmed in front of. 
After that, Marinette had reaffirmed her conclusion that all rich people were assholes best left to their own privileged bubble. 
A solid clap snapped her attention back to the front of the lecture hall, eyes narrowing at the man by the podium. The presentation pulled up on the smart board indicated that he was going to be speaking to them about professionalism and how to engage in buyer-seller conversations. Oh that was bloody perfect. What did this guy know about any of those things? 
The time was 9:45 exactly when the guy decided to start his presentation. 
“Hello, everyone,” his voice was smooth and firm, not wavering while speaking before a hall filled with two hundred students. “My name is Timothy Drake-Wayne but you all can just call me Tim. It’s lovely to meet all of you and I’m honoured to be here speaking for you today.” 
Cue a very predictable, very standard, very boring introduction. Marinette was beginning to tune out at this point.
“To start off this presentation, I would like to talk about misunderstandings in professional conversations.” He started walking across the front of the room. Slow and methodical; he knew he had all eyes on him and he was taking full advantage of it. Marinette wanted to gag. “Additionally, I want to discuss how to avoid them, and what to do if miscommunication occurs.”
Blah, blah blahblah. Marinette didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.
“To start off, I’m going to talk about a situation I found myself in not too long ago.” That caught her attention. “It’s funny now and makes for great dinner conversation but not so much when it had happened. How many of you siblings?”
He paused and surveyed the room. His eyes passed over Marinette and for a brief second she thought he focused on her for a blink longer than necessary. She banished the thought from her mind; she didn’t have siblings so he had no reason to notice her.  
“Now,” he continued, “how many of you have siblings who aren’t afraid to sabotage your work when they’re mad at you?” 
Another pause as some of the students lowered their hands. Some were unsure and Marinette had a weird feeling in her gut. Her instincts were screaming at her but she couldn’t figure out why.
“Don’t feel shy,” the guy raised his hand to join the students, “my younger brother is a menace who can and has attempted to sabotage my business. Just recently in fact.”
Marinette looked around the room to see quite a few surprised faces. She was vaguely familiar with the Wayne family and remembered a few details about the youngest child. He was a menace, that’s for sure. As egotistical as any thirteen year old can be. That feeling in her gut returned with vigor. She was suddenly very alert and eager, almost desperate, to figure out how the ankle biter had sabotaged this man.
“About six months ago my brothers and I were butting heads as usual. My sister was enjoying everything while shit hit the fan from a safe distance. I’m not going to go into much details.” He’s arms were waving animatedly as he spoke. It was quite endearing. NO. Bad thoughts, Marinette. “The point of all this is that I pissed my younger brother off somehow. I don’t know, maybe I breathed too hard on his cat or something.” That got a laugh out of the students except Marinette. Six months. He said his brother had sabotaged him around six months ago. That gut feeling had turned her stomach into a pit, eating away at her nerves.
“My brother had hacked into my email and sent absolutely horrible replies to everyone that was marked as important in my contacts in a poor attempt at pretending to be me. Of course, most of those contacts work at Wayne Enterprises. It took a courtesy email explaining the mishap and a personal visit with an apology gift to clear the air. Now for the contacts who don’t work at Wayne E, that’s where it gets tricky.”
Marinette was holding her breath, wishing for this day to already be over and for the ground to open and swallow her whole. She both hoped she was and wasn’t wrong. On the one hand, it meant that he was truly that harsh in replying to her and she wasn’t among the contacts his brother emailed, justifying her slowly dwindling fury. On the other more plausible hand, it meant that he wasn’t responsible for the crude email. It still didn’t explain the interview he did but…but she never did watch the entire thing. She had started watching the interview already expecting him to tear her down. He never referenced her suit by any specifics before she had changed the channel. That probably meant that she had poorly misjudged him. But she would have been contacted in some way if she was among those people and she hadn’t. So he was still an ass to her. Right? 
“For those who I couldn’t visit in person,” Oh god, he was still speaking. “I sent them more personal emails compared to what I sent the employees. That was really the most I could do and I hoped for the best. I got a reply from most; they were rather understanding, actually, some even claiming that their own siblings would do something like that. It went over pretty well.” He suddenly had this forlorn look as he rubbed his hands absentmindedly against the suit. 
“While I was lucky that most of my contacts were understanding, one important thing to be prepared for is people who won’t be that forgiving. Do you see this suit I’m wearing? I love this suit. I will absolutely get buried in this suit. I had commissioned and received it just before the email fiasco and I, regrettably, never got a response when I tried to both thank and apologize to them. My brother had used my email to accuse them of being a gold-digger of all things. I would have loved to commission them again but it looks like my brother burned that bridge permanently.”
What? No. That’s not true and Marinette felt hot rage flare up in her. Was he really lying to try and save face right now? She felt the strong urge to interrupt him. To march down those steps and let him know exactly how she felt about him lying about emailing her to apologize. But, a treacherous hopeful part of herself whispered to her, she had to be sure. She had to have irrefutable proof that she wasn’t one of the victims to his rabid brother and he was just an ass. 
She couldn’t get to her phone fast enough. She searched for all the emails the two had exchanged, finding the most recent to be his harsh email. She had another niggling feeling, however, and decided to check her spam mail. 
Marinette has most definitely stopped breathing. 
Right there, in bold letters sat a Wayne Enterprises email waiting to be opened and read. She couldn’t bring herself to click it open, ice flooding her veins, freezing her in her seat. She actually misread the situation. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to bash her head on the table and grovel for forgiveness from this very handsome man. She didn’t do any of this, however, managing some degree of composure and sat through the remainder of his presentation. She would bet her left leg it was the best presentation she would have ever heard but she couldn’t recall a single word of it from that point on; too busy digging her own grave and writing her own eulogy. She could never show her face around Gotham again. Her life was ruined.
The sounds of people packing up had her crawling herself out of her own head. She mechanically packed her things up, gazing pathetically at her blank notebook. She made her way down the steps, eyeing the gaggle of students surrounding Marinette’s biggest missed opportunity to date. She was just about to walk straight out the door, resigning herself to her fate when she made a hasty decision. She turned to the dwindling crowd and marched like a woman on a mission. She wormed her away to stand directly in Tim’s line of sight and she braced herself for possibly her dumbest idea yet. She listened to the conversation going on and as soon as it appeared she was not going to interrupt anyone, she shot her hand out and grabbed him by his suit. The act caught everyone’s attention but before she could chicken out, she turned to leave and pulled the businessman along with her, leaving stunned silence behind. 
They didn’t get far out the door when he yanked her arm off him, stopping them in their tracks. He looked angry, confused but also very put out at her. Fair. 
“Why’d you do that?” 
“I— I don’t know.” His glare was intense. Marinette felt her face flush and her knees weaken. She wanted to make things right but it seemed she was only making things worse. She took a breath. Focus, she reminded herself. She just needed to address one problem at a time. “I mean, I do know why but I wasn’t supposed to do it like that. I just needed your attention.”
“Well now you have it. So what do you want?”
“I wanted to apologize. Not about dragging you out here. Yet. But for accidentally ignoring your apology email.” One of his eyebrows rose incredulously as she kept talking, but she ignored it and powered on. “It was, for some reason, in my spam mail and I didn’t see it. But if it’s any consolation, I would love it if you commissioned me for another suit. Or anything else really.” 
“Pardon?” He didn’t believe her, or was at least confused by her, that much she could tell.
“You suit. I made it. Here, look.” She turned her phone screen, showing him their conversations in her emails. At his slightly more relaxed posture she continued speaking. “I’m glad you like the suit.”
“Huh.”
“Also I’m sorry for dragging you out here.” She had curled her shoulders into her ears, still holding her phone out like an idiot. His chuckle in response eased her nerves only slightly. He had a cute laugh. And he was cute too. Bad thoughts! Stop getting distracted!
“Okay, I’ll accept your apology if you accept mine.” The carefree smile he threw at her was disarming. “And I would love to talk more about working with you, Ms. Cheng.”
“Marinette, please, Mr. Wayne.” She could breathe easier now, no longer on the verge of catastrophizing. “If you want to get started as early as possible, I’m free for an early lunch right now.”
“Only if you call me Tim. And lunch sounds great actually. I know a great bistro off campus if you will let me escort you.” He really needed to stop smiling at her like that. Her heart couldn’t take it.
“Sounds wonderful. Lead the way.” He turned and offered her his arm. She was slow to move, still faintly caught in the emotional whiplash of the morning. Her gentle grip on his bicep was enough for her to feel the muscle definition under the suit. It pleasantly surprised her but not nearly as much as his next words.
“Perfect. It’s a date.”
What?
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mellow-em · 3 years
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Bittersweet Temptations
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CHAPTER 3
[special dts: @bluewingedangel @siennamariia <3]
Your neighbors, Nathan and Elena, have been friends with your parents for years. Whether it’d be family gatherings or vacations, they were around; they were family. But when you return home from your final years of college, what will happen when you find that it isn't just them living in the house next door anymore?
_____________________________________
I wanted to say something.
I knew based on the long expressions plastered across their faces, that they were waiting impatiently for me to say something too.
But I physically couldn’t.
A knot cemented itself at the back of my throat, suffocating me as I tried to swallow. I could feel my mouth suffer through a drought as I did so.
All I could do was look at the three of them, internally wallowing in embarrassment with a load of questions making my head spin.
How could Nate and Elena keep something like that from me? What were they thinking? No. What was I thinking?
Suddenly, the voices of people scattered amongst the yard became too loud. Though, the stares directed towards me were louder.
“Y/n can you say something?”
Without even thinking, I felt my body turn away from them, and I carried myself away.
“Y/n?” I could hear Elena calling after me.
“I’ll just be a minute” I finally croaked back to her, relieved that I could finally get a word out.
I rushed past the deck towards the side of the house.
I knew in the back of my mind that I was being ridiculous. It wasn’t something to run away from; knowing they probably felt just as awkward telling me.
But I had to get away from Sam.
I couldn’t bear standing there while his smug grin could be seen in the corner of my eye.
It was driving me crazy.
Why does he insist on making this hard on me?
I continued to let my feet travel, not even worried about where I would end up. It felt good to step away from the chaos that my parents organized, for a while anyway.
But I soon found myself at the dead end of the street, in front of the wooded patches that lined the edges of the pavement; sectioning off the neighborhood from the forest.
Without any hesitation, I stepped past the barricading trees, and onto the trail that led to a place of sanctuary.
A small body of water sat on the indented ground, with blooming ferns and bushes fencing it. Farther away from the pond, large rocks collected together, forming makeshift seats to take in the atmosphere.
It looked like it belonged in a cheesy disney movie, or a landscape renaissance painting.
I found this place with Nate when I was little, and since then I would escape here when things become too much to handle.
I sat myself down on one of the largest slabs of rock, almost seeing the memories with Nate passing around me in the form of faded visuals; they were almost ghost-like.
I took myself into these moments one by one; succumbing to the laughter, the playfulness, the smiles, the thrill.
Even though I love my parents more than anything, the bundles of memories Nate and I shared, showed me a glimpse of adventure that my parents couldn’t give me.
The overwhelming feeling of contentment pushed a smile onto my face.
But in an instant, it all faded.
Sam.
That one moment with him feasted on my conscious mind like a ravenous vulture. It made my stomach churn in the worst possible way.
I sunk my head into my hands, huffing in frustration.
That is, until I heard a few raucous cracks of leaves and sticks not too far from me.
I fix my posture while whipping my head towards the direction of the noise, only to be met with guilty eyes.
Nathan stood there, leaning his upper body on the stiff trunk of a tree.
Perfect timing, Nate..
My lips flatlined as I scratched at the corner of my forehead, “Hey.”
He steps closer, leisurely but surely.
“Hey,” he gestures to the vacant space next to me, “can I?”
“Yeah.”
Placing both of his hands on his thighs, he plops down next to me, slightly grunting. We sat there in silence; but it wasn’t peaceful, it was impatient.
The both of us were longing to say something to one another, but neither of us preferred confrontation in the slightest. So we sat there, staring at the grove.
“It’s been a while since we’ve been here.”
I look over to him, noticing the tinge of nostalgia sketched upon his features.
“uh yeah.. yeah it really has,” I release a breath, reverting my eyes back to the pond, “almost 5 years.”
It was two days before I left for college. Screaming echoed throughout the house, and reverberated through my head, overwhelming my senses.
My parents chalked it up to being stressed over ‘my big move,’ which I can believe. But the words said that day pushed its way through me. I finally had enough of the nonsense and hollered back at them.
Big mistake. ‘you’re an absolute failure’ They said, ‘you’re never gonna go far.’
Long story short, I ran out of the house, and into the forest. I sat on this same rock, with tears planting glistening streams down my face.
Nate apparently heard the commotion, which wasn’t too surprising, and he made his way to me.
He didn’t even say a word before wrapping his arms around me; embracing me with a comforting warmth that slowly eased me back to normal.
‘Sic Parvis Magna,’ He said.
I was more than confused with those few words, until he began to speak once more.
‘Greatness from small beginnings. Now this isn’t exactly small, you know, with you leaving me here to go to college and all. But it is a new beginning- your new beginning. Don’t let anyone stop you from moving forward.’
That was the last day I saw this beautiful spot of ours, and the last time I really had a solid conversation with Nate; it made the final memory bittersweet at best.
“It really hasn’t changed a bit though.”
“Probably because change is dining elsewhere,”I tried to whisper under my breath, but unfortunately, he heard me loud and clear.
I look up at him in the corner of my eye, noticing his presence fall into a sea of guilt again.
He runs his hand through his surprisingly neatened hair, letting out a sigh that releases all of his proper posture.
“Look, y/n, I wanted to tell you. I really did. But it’s just-”
“Nate all I gotta ask is why? Why would you keep something that major from me?”
I had my body fully turned to face him now, while he still remained there; slouched with his head bowed to his fidgety hands.
I could tell he was stalling, swallowing his responses with force.
“Nate. Just tell me. Please.”
His eyes closed as he exhaled, “It’s a very long story.”
“I’ve got plenty of time.”
“Not exactly.” Roars of laughter within the distance cause both of us to look at the trail leading out of the woods, “we’ve still got a party going on, which happens to be for you, if I may add-”
“Seriously Nate, you think I care?” I was growing fretful, mentally pleading for him to just give up on excuses.
His hands raised in defense, “Fine, fine, okay..”
———
It didn’t even occur to us how long we’d been out here until the streams of sunlight disappeared from the ruptures in between the trees. The day was just replaced with the beginning of nightfall.
“So you’re telling me that Sam, your brother...who was presumed dead for 15 years, dragged you out across the globe to find Henry Avery’s treasure in 3 months because a drug lord was gonna kill him if you didn’t?”
Nate stifled a low chuckle, nodding along.
“So I take it you found it and gave the son of a bitch his cut? Well, since he’s alive and all-”
“Hey, language missy.” He attempted a scolding tone, but I could see through his thin facade.
I rolled my eyes, shoving him playfully,“Haha very funny. Now answer the question mister.”
“Well, it turns out the son of a bitch was Sam. He uh- lied about the whole thing.”
My eyes widened, “Wait what? So the drug lord- the sole purpose of the treasure hunt..”
“Yep it was all bullshit.”
I averted my wide-eyed gaze from him to the pond that was now lit with the blaring lights of fireflies,“Wow. I’m surprised no one got the chance to kick him in the face.. or balls.”
“Yeah Rafe- he pretty much took care of that one..”
The both of us laughed, causing a few birds to flutter away from the branches closest to us.
I missed this.
“Figured I’d find you two here.”
As our fit died down, we glanced over to a beaming Elena emerging from the trail with her arms crossed over her chest.
“I told your parents that you were comin’ over with us. I assumed you wanted some space from all the chaos.”
I showed my relief in the form of a warm simper, up until the realization punched me in the face.
Sam is gonna be there.
My body tensed, becoming a stiff statue in place. The lack of saliva in my mouth was back, and I felt my breath hitch silently.
I guessed the two of them noticed my change in demeanor.
“Are you okay y/n? You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Elena’s tone was gentle, as her grin faltered slightly.
“No no it’s fine it’s just- it’s nothing don’t worry,”I abruptly stood up, scratching at my forehead again, “lets go, back.”
“You sure?,” I felt Nate’s arm fall over my shoulders, giving me a faint squeeze as the three of us trudged down the path.
I needed to take my mind off of Sam, hopefully I can avoid him.
“Yeah..” my voice trailed off, “as long as I get to play a certain game that I happened to have the highest score of.” walking confidently with my head held high, I could still see Nate rolling his eyes.
“Actually, Elena has since claimed that title for herself.” Nate said frankly.
A dramatic gasp escapes my lips,“Elena, are you kidding me!”
“Hey, don’t get mad at the pregnant lady here,” she looks back at Nate and I as we continue to walk down the trail, “how about this: you two compete to try and beat my high score.”
Nate looks down at me with the same contemplative look I give him.
“And what’s the catch, hun?” Nate asks.
“Loser gets pushed or thrown into the pool.”
Well well well, Elena’s finally getting in on our shenanigans.
I smirked, “This is gonna be light work.”
“Oh really now? I just know you’re secretly afraid that I’m gonna win.”
“Sure, Nate. I’m not gonna lose, you’re all bark and no bite.”
It was his turn to let out a theatrical breath,“How dare you accuse me of such a thing?”
While Nate and I went on with our child like banter, Elena laughed hysterically at our foolishness,“You two are absolutely ridiculous.”
Nate glances back at me, only this time his fist patiently waited in front of me for a fist bump, “you ready to get destroyed?”
I scoff, hitting my fist on his, “You’re on.”
67 notes · View notes
crystalirises · 3 years
Note
i am completely in love with your harry potter au, got any more crumbs? maybe some young georgebur falling in love? maybe some george x revivebur reunion?
(2/2) oh also I have this hc that not only did wilbur trust george with the hufflepuff cup horcrux just like bellatrix, but that he also made george's wedding ring into the ring horcrux (yk the one that poisoned dumbledors hand? except this one wouldn't be cursed obviously) so george would always have a piece of his husbands soul with him wherever he goes :,( <3 this is way to romantic in my head considering the fact that you have to murder someone and literally split your soul in half to create a horcrux🤦
hello! So this might not be exactly what you wanted cause I kinda like...
You know when you want to write but you're like... nah, I'm tired?
Yeah I'm currently going through that XD. My second year in college is starting next week so I've been busy with enlistment of classes and stuff. I did do something about this (along with other stuff cause I couldn't help myself and someone else asked before if I could make like a second prompt for what happens to Fundy after he got obliviated).
So yeah, this is like ten parts of drabbles that take place in this AU. Sorry if this isn't what you wanted. I'm very sorry.
Fair warning, some parts are dark cause... Georgebur are the villains and well they win and this is a Harry Potter AU, y'all know the villain, y'all know what his agenda is.
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31985884/chapters/82666897
I. First Meeting
“You’re all bark, Mr. Soot.”
He stopped, one foot already at the top of the stairs. Wilbur threw a careless glance back.
And, oh, he was glad he looked back. There were many students within Slytherin, and he only recalled the most interesting ones. George Lore had always been very intriguing. “How so?”
“You’re charming, but I’ve seen your… skills. You’re not very sharp.”
Wilbur laughed, moving back down the stairs to where George waited. He’ll show him sharp.
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II. Expelled
“George Lore, the only man I will ever love, I believe this is where we part ways—”
“Wilbur, please keep your mouth shut and assist me with my luggage.” Of all the replies, Wilbur did not expect that. He glanced behind George where a bunch of suitcases waited eagerly to board the boat that would lead them back to the train station. Wilbur was stricken. When they’d expelled him for the murder of some… honestly, he wasn’t quite sure who he had murdered - some nobody mudblood, that was all… one, he had expected George to track him down just for the sake of lecturing him on his stupidity. Yet it seemed, that wasn’t the case. “Well, Wilbur? What do you say? Do we head home to your family’s manor or to mine? Either works for me.”
“Love, as much as I would love for you to stay at my home, what are you… huh?” George rolled his eyes, huffing before finally placing his bags on the boat, muttering on how useless Wilbur was and how he really was just charms and good looks. Not to be upstaged, Wilbur immediately took over, carrying George’s heavy bags onto the boat despite his confusion. He bit the bottom of his lip, watching as George stepped on board, sitting down as he waited for Wilbur to get his own bags into the boat. “Don’t tell me you’ve snuck out. Think of your grades, love, you care so—”
“I care more for you than some school who accepted those filthy mudbloods in the first place.”
Wilbur smiled, “And that’s why I love you. Whoever I killed, they had it coming.”
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III. Isolation
George was growing tired of the same dingy walls.
He never thought he’d end up in Azkaban, but fate tends to surprise you.
They trapped him in there, thinking that the dementors would drive him to the brink of madness.
He’d be damned if they were to devour his happiness. His husband was dead, and so was their son. There was no happiness in his mind, and he could not bring himself to hope. Hope meant food for those damned abominations. He’d keep his thoughts and his emotions kept under lock and key. He won’t let them take what was left of what he remembers of Wilbur and their child.
He refuses to lose them again. Not again.
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IV. Loss
He wasn’t an orphan, but now he felt like he was.
Fundy rushed out of the house, hands wet with sweat despite the cold and rainy weather of London. His bag dragged across the pavement, his shoes splashing against the murky puddles. He didn’t dare to turn back, he couldn’t. Dream and Sapnap would be devastated if they knew what he had done, but Fundy couldn’t stay and endanger his parents any longer. He loved them, they were the best parents a kid could ever ask for. But Sally and Jared Salmon would be better off thinking that they never had a son and that their lifelong dream was to move to the Netherlands. Fundy walked faster, scared that he’d turn back the longer he stayed near the house.
He could feel the tears gathering in his eyes, but Fundy knew he needed to be strong. Sapnap and Dream needed him to be strong. They’ve all lost too much. He won’t cry until the war is over.
Who knows? Maybe he’ll actually like living in the wizarding world.
He just wished it didn’t have to come with the cost of his parents forgetting he ever even existed.
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V. Wedding Ring
George found it to be quite amusing, honestly.
You would think that the Order would know better. Incompetent fools, all of them.
He admired the ring on his finger, a small smile on his face. When they’d dragged him away to Azkaban, they had given him the mercy of leaving the wedding ring that Wilbur had proposed to him with. It was hilarious, if only they had known that they had been looking at a horcrux.
His husband’s horcrux. He shook his head, gazing over at the man who stood at the head of the war table. A map of Hogwarts laid on the surface, his husband’s focused gaze nearly covered by his curly, dark chocolate brown hair. He’d join in on the brainstorming once Wilbur had gained a bit of a plan. While George did adore his husband… he was more the charms than the brains.
For now, he keeps a part of his love’s soul close to his heart.
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VI. Knitting Habits
He’s never held a knitting needle before in his life, but he can’t say that knitting wasn’t fun.
“I never thought I’d see the day. You’re getting old, love. Should I get you a rocking chair too?”
George threw a ball of yarn towards Wilbur, eliciting a laugh as it hit Wilbur directly on the face.
“Ever the humorist, Wil. It would be funny if it wasn’t coming from a man who literally came back from the dead and looks decayed.” He sighed, leaning against the wall of the alcove. Wilbur was still mulling over their plans, a crease in his forehead. “I’m making a scarf for our little son.”
Now here’s to hoping that Fundy would like it. George did do it with the colors of their family.
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VII. Home
He trembled, the effects of the spell washing over him like a pile of snow.
George was whispering into his ear, but Fundy couldn’t hear him over the sound of his own breathing. Dream was dead, Sapnap got hit by a crucio spell, and George was taking him back to be tortured all over again. He continued to shiver, tears pouring past his cheeks no matter how hard he tried to keep himself from crying. The world around them melted back into existence, but all he could feel was his heart beating loudly in his chest and the arms wrapped around him.
“Shh, shhh, you’re alright, sweetheart.”
His captor pulled him along, keeping an arm wrapped around his shoulders, squeezing him every now and then each time he tried to put a bit of distance between them. He was led inside a room, and from the way it looked, Fundy could tell it wasn’t an ordinary guest room. It felt too lived-in, too personal. George led him to sit on the edge of the bed, gently petting his messy and dirty hair.
“It’s alright, Fundy. You’re home with dads now.”
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VIII. Scarf
Fundy scowled, the scarf somehow tight against his neck despite it practically falling off.
He felt George adjust it back around him, fussing over him like he was a child and not some captive that they’ve been keeping locked inside their room. Fundy knew he wasn’t the tallest, his best friends already joke - well, they used to - about it, but George was just a foot taller and still he somehow felt even smaller. He huffed, moving away until his back was against the wall of the alcove. George didn’t make a move to follow him, simply sighing before turning back to Wilbur.
He buried his face against the scarf, trying to bring himself comfort.
If he tried hard enough, he could catch the faint scent of ash and black licorice. Sapnap had worn the scarf at some point during the battle since he thought it looked comfortable to wear. Fundy had given it to him since he didn’t know where it came from and it had been too big for him.
What he’d give to go back to that time, instead of clinging to the fading scent of his best friend.
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IX. Very Dark Blue Eyes
There was a stranger in his room.
Fundy nervously fiddled with the end of his scarf. His wand was still on the nightstand where he had left it, and the stranger was blocking his way. He’d barely seen anyone for the past few months aside from his dads, but he could already tell who the stranger was. The stranger was his age and had long black hair falling past his shoulders. Fundy knew he was a Halo immediately.
“Holy shit… Fundy! Finally, I’ve been scouting the fucking grounds for hours! This place has terrible security, well except for the wards but they were easy to break.” The stranger rambled on and on, each word striking Fundy with more confusion. He wasn’t sure why he was acting like they knew each other. Fundy had no friends - aside from his Uncle Tommy but Uncle Tommy was awkward around him - so he wouldn’t know the stranger, especially since they were a Halo of all things. The stranger moved closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “I missed you!”
“Who are you?” He moved away from the stranger’s hold, avoiding the stricken look that the stranger was giving him. Fundy scowled. Of all the times to leave his wand where he couldn’t reach it. “I know you’re one of those… Halos at least. Now, how did you get inside my room?!”
“Fundy…” Very dark blue eyes gazed at him, hurt dancing in their stare. “It’s me, Sapnap…”
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X. You’re a Wizard, Fundy
The letter came at some point during the night.
His mama had asked his papa if he’d enrolled Fundy in a faraway school by accident, but papa had said that he hadn’t. They were whispering about it during breakfast, throwing glances at him every so often as though they didn’t want him to hear. He pretended not to care, attention focused on his breakfast. Mama and papa weren’t arguing, but it almost felt like they were. He hoped that their conversation would be over soon, but it continued even after Fundy finished his breakfast. He left his plate on the table before walking out of the dining room and into the hall. Mama and papa didn’t seem to even notice that he had left. Now to find what was the problem.
He found the problem all too quickly, his scavenger hunt cut short by the fancy letter that had been left on top of a table in the hallway. Fundy held the letter in his hand, the paper coarser than most that he’d felt. He knew he shouldn’t be snooping, but his mama and papa never talked about something so incessantly, at least not something about him. He snuck back into his room, the letter clutched in his hand. Maybe he’d failed his entrance exam at the school his parents were enrolling him in? He pouted, but he’d studied so hard for it and it had been so easy for him!
Fundy didn’t know why his hands trembled as he tried to pull the letter open. Mama had folded it back to the way it had been, and he couldn’t really see the trace of ink at the back. A part of him wanted to hide it away, maybe then mama and papa would stop worrying about it. He didn’t know why, but a part of him felt like something was about to end the moment he opened the letter. He took a deep breath. He could handle long hours of studying, even though his mama and papa said it wasn’t healthy for him to stay up so late. He could handle what was inside the letter. With shaking hands, he opened it, scanning the life-changing words that were meant for him.
If he only knew what that letter meant at the time, then maybe he would have just burned it.
32 notes · View notes
imkylotrash · 4 years
Text
Cornelia Street (You Look Happier Part 2)
Summary: Hardin leaves reader for Tessa and reader calls Zed to help her. 
Warnings: Slut-shaming, swearing
A/N: I didn’t list pairing, because I don’t want to give anything away. Also I will publish a part 3 in the next couple of days, so I hope you’re ready. 
Tagging: @justyouraveragedorkygirl​
READ PART 1 READ PART 3 READ PART 4 READ EPILOGUE
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The drive to Zed’s place is quiet leaving you to be suffocated by your thoughts. At some point, Zed reached over to grab hold of your hand and now you’re clinging onto it like a lifeline. How is it possible to exist when your heart has decided to stop beating? It’s as if you feel nothing but pain anymore. Pain and anger towards Hardin for staying when he didn’t want to. For going behind your back and confirming all your insecurities. Molly had been right that day; he wasn’t your Hardin anymore, he was Tessa’s. And it broke you. 
“Drink some water.” You’re sitting in Zed’s apartment with no idea how you got from the car and inside. You accept the glass of water but make no effort to drink it. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks earning nothing but silence from you. Somewhere in your brain you register his concern but right now you can’t focus on anything other than your breathing. Grief has paralysed you in the worst way possible and you hate it. You hate how weak you’ve turned over a silly boy.
“Say something so I know you’re still there,” Zed says trying to lighten the mood. 
“Tessa,” you rasp hoping it’ll explain your behaviour, hoping that he’ll put the pieces together and understand what’s happened. Understand why you’ve fallen apart. 
“Please tell me he didn’t.” You nod your head and Zed stops talking because he knows the kind of pain you’re in and he knows you need to process this slowly. So you sit there for a long time before you finally look over at Zed. He’s there and he’s ready to listen but you don’t want to talk. You want to do something that will help absolutely nothing and you’ll cry about tomorrow but you’re not thinking clearly as you crawl over to sit on his lap. 
“Make me forget him.” It’s cruel really because you know he’s had a crush on you since you started college but the world is cruel and you just don’t have it in you to think about feelings that aren’t your own right now. 
“Y/N, I can’t.” It’s meant as a rejection but he doesn’t mean it. You can tell that he wants this to be true and real. He wants you to want him the way he’s wanted you for such a long time but now you’re this broken puzzle that might be too hard to solve. 
“Please.” The word comes out as a whimper and if you’d been more coherent you’d probably be mortified by how pathetic you’re acting right now. But you’re not and Zed is fighting a losing battle. 
“I want this to be real, Y/N. I want to make you feel safe, but not like this. I don’t want to be second best to him.” He’s speaking faster than normal trying to get his point across before this goes too far. You’re kissing his neck and ignoring every word he’s saying. As you grind your hips, you feel him move beneath you. 
“Hardin will kill me for this,” he says and the name brings you back to Zed’s apartment. You scramble off of him instead sitting as far away as the sofa lets you. 
“I’m sorry,” you say not ready to realise how close you came to ruining your friendship with Zed. 
“I get it. I’m a safe option.” His eyes refuse to meet yours but you both know it’s the truth. Through everything Zed has been a safe habor that you’ve turned to over and over whenever you and Hardin argued. It’s not been fair on Zed but you haven’t known how to stop searching for him. He’s your best friend but he’ll never be more. It hurts to know that you can’t give him what he wants. 
“You’re not an option, Zed. You’re my best friend. You’re the person I need.” 
“But not the person you want,” he interrupts. There are no words that could help him right now so you reach over and take his hand in yours the way he did in the car. It’s support and love even if it’s not the love he want. In a perfect world, you’d want Zed. The two of you would get married after college and have kids at 30 when you’ve both had time to live your own lives. But it’s not a perfect world and you don’t want Zed like that. So instead the two of you sit together holding hands as your hearts are breaking fast and slow all at the same time. 
It takes you two weeks before you’re ready to return to campus. Zed lets you crash at his place because first and foremost you’re best friends and this is what best friends do for each other. And you both know that Hardin will show up at your apartment to see you. 
“Are you sure you’re ready?” he asks as you’re turning a corner. 
“I don’t know. I’m scared I’ll meet him but I also want to see him. Does that make sense?” Your faithful companion just nods knowingly as he always does. There’s an unspoken understanding between the two of you and it’s been the only thing keeping you sane.
“I’ll meet you after first period, okay? Wait for me.” He kisses your forehead softly before leaving for his morning classes. As he turns around, his face connects with Hardin’s fist. 
“What the hell is this?” he yells looking over at you. There’s an anger in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. He looks good, even had the time to add a tattoo to his sleeve. It pisses you off that she was probably holding his hand while he got it. 
“Walk away, Hardin.” You’re so mad you’re shaking but you just don’t have it in you to have a screaming match with Hardin right now. Instead you turn your focus to Zed who’s slowly getting back on his feet. 
“Are you okay?” Zed nods and wipes a little blood from his nose before coming over to stand next to you - loyal to the bitter end.
“Are you seriously with him now? Didn’t take you long to replace me!” He spits out the words and you can tell he’s hoping they’ll break you all over. Hardin is nothing but not persistent in his methods. 
“What I do is none of your concern anymore, Hardin. You made sure of that yourself.”
“I’d dumped you sooner if I’d known you were such a whore.” It’s like you’re standing on the other side of the road observing it all from a distance. His words are meant to cut you like knives but you just feel empty. These last couple of weeks have drained you and now you have nothing left to give. Why he’s even bothered now that he has Tessa is a question you have no answer for. You’d figured he would be too busy with her to even notice you. 
“Don’t talk to her like that!” Zed intercepts ready to fight Hardin right then and there but you spot security slowly walking towards the three of you. Hardin is once again making quite a scene but you and Zed don’t have the same kind of protection from the Chancellor that Hardin does. You can’t risk getting caught up in this. 
“You already broke me, Hardin. I have nothing left for you to take so please just go back to Tessa.” Without another word you take Zed’s hand and leads the two of you away from college not even caring how it looks to Hardin. You’ll have to miss another day. You can’t face those hallways again - they hold all the small touches and sweet nothings shared between you and Hardin. 
“I’m transferring,” you tell Zed as you’re approaching his car. You haven’t thought about it before but after seeing Hardin you’ve realised that it’s too much for you. The college holds too much for you to face it again. The kind of heartbreak Hardin caused you is something that time won’t mend. 
“Me too. I don’t want to see his face ever again.” You look over at Zed and realises that you’re not the only one Hardin’s hurt. You remember his last relationship that Hardin turned into a game. 
“Where should we go?” you ask. 
“Seattle? I’ve always wanted to go there.” And just like that it’s decided. Of course there’s all the paper work when you decide to switch school in the middle of a semester, but you both manage to transfer within a month. You find a crappy apartment not too far from campus. Even though you’re both thinking about it, none of you mention Hardin again. You apply for intern jobs and even manages to get an interview at Vance Publishing. It’s a new branch but you already know the company. It’s the one Hardin left right after first semester but for once the reminder of Hardin doesn’t cut your heart. So when you’re standing in front of the huge building Wednesday afternoon, you can actually breathe. 
“Hold the elevator!” you yell walking faster. Thankfully, the guy in the elevator holds the door for you. 
“Thank you.” He smiles as you walk past him into the elevator. 
“Are you new here?” he asks pressing the button for the 3rd floor. 
“I’m here for an interview,” you reply and take a second to look at him. He’s pretty. A cute smile and judging by his vibe and choice of clothes definitely no tattoos. He’s nothing like your usual type and definitely nothing like Hardin. Something about that draws you in. 
“Oh, I hope you get it then.” It’s a sweet thing to say really and it calms your nerves. 
“Thank you.” The elevator opens and he steps out. The moment gone. 
“I’m Trevor by the way. I hope to see you around.” 
254 notes · View notes
unpassive-viewer · 2 years
Text
Stranger Things Season 4.1
Spoilers incoming!
It’s been a minute since I posted here. Truthfully I forgot I had this blog - I’ve been on a semester abroad and have neglected several things (including studies - who goes abroad to actually study?). I have several reviews in my drafts from a few months ago that I have yet to edit and post. 
One thing I have not neglected, however, is using the last three days to watch the entire new season of Stranger Things. I have been on the edge of my seat waiting for this season to come out! Unfortunately it was... highly disappointing. The show seems to keep with a format of one good season and one terrible season. Season 2 was like watching a completely different show. Each season has a fairly different feel - assume this can be attributed to the different eras that the show covers. Last season we got neon and carnivals, this season we got the Satanic Panic and 80′s horror. While I do like the idea, the way this show does it makes it seem like it was never a plan, and instead something scrapped together at the last second. And so that sets the tone! Here a few things I think about the new season...
- Steve’s character. This is the first point because it’s genuinely the thing I am most mad about. Everything we’ve loved about Steve since season 1 appears to have been stripped away this season. Even in the most boring storylines, I could count on him to be effective comic relief. Steve this season just seems to have a grudge. I don’t like the way this Nancy/Steve reunion appears to be going - I want to believe that the writers will leave that chapter in the past in the interest of character growth, but I also don’t trust Netflix not to royally screw this up (as they have a history of doing to their original shows). Their relationship was nuked, Nancy treated him terribly, and if Jonathan didn’t fall in line with her dreams of college, I don’t think that “Steve who graduated years ago and still works at the movie store” does either, at least not logically. 
- Hopper/El storyline priority. It doesn’t feel like the other characters are getting nearly enough screen time. Will has never had a huge part in the show, but many of the characters that really made the series are getting next to no time compared to El and Hopper. Specifically Joyce - despite her massive role in Hopper’s story, it doesn’t feel like we see nearly enough from her. Either that, or the blips of the characters are so short (in the interest of spotlighting single characters for drawn out monologues) that it feels like we don’t see them enough.
- The monologues. Stranger Things feels like it’s suffering from a case of the Haunting of Hill House; long, drawn out monologues that don’t exactly add to the episode. I can also only watch so many flashbacks.
- Plot points of convenience. Papa just happens to be alive? An identical program happens to have been developed in an underground bunker? With what funds (clearly this is no longer financed by the US government)? Joyce just happens to survive a plane crash, and the crash is within walking distance through the Siberian wilderness to the prison Hopper is in? Does anyone know how BIG Siberia is??? Oh, and the Big Boss monster is conveniently someone from El’s past.
- Everyone looks like an adult. This I don’t believe we could’ve avoided - it’s been almost ten years since the series began. Those kids just don’t look like high schoolers anymore. Unfortunately the actors cast to look like older students comparatively look like they’re in their mid-30s. 
- Gratuitous violence. I do not think anyone was expecting just how much graphic gore would be in this season. 
- The monster is someone from the program. Things are allowed to be confusing. Maybe it was the only thing the writers could dream up to build on the previous seasons - we had the closing of the mega gate in season 2, the defeat of the mall monster and Billy’s redemption arc in season 3 - what’s left? Closing gates forever? Something had to be behind it, and this could’ve kept with the theme of “the US/USSR keep sticking their noses where they shouldn’t and creating problems”, but the monster was a kid who just... already had powers. To me, that’s pretty boring.
I want to touch now on some things I do like, as I obviously didn’t hate it enough to stop watching.
- Depictions of trauma. It’s not exactly what I wanted from my feel-good show, but the depictions of trauma are pretty in line with what you’d expect. The town just suffered a massive loss, enough to say it’s cursed. Most people still don’t have answers about the “mall fire”. This time, it’s not just the Byers and El that came away with significant trauma. Coupled with the events of the previous season, the kids are dealing with a whole host of natural life changes. High school, college, jobs. They’re all behaving exactly how I believe people who have suffered that much would. It means that there’s a lot less humour, but it’s realistic. The Satanic Panic was the icing on the cake for a severely traumatized populace. 
- Building off of this - supportive friendships! That’s what Stranger Things has always been about for me. Even outside of the depictions of romantic love, the characters really come to bat for one another. I want to spotlight the relationship between Lucas and Max; trauma can be profoundly isolating, even when it is you isolating yourself. Max is a rather dramatic example of this. True caring is to see an individual as an end in itself, rather than a means to an end, and I believe we see this with Lucas. Reciprocity isn’t his endgame, and he is unwaveringly supportive. It was very wholesome. However! Boy does Will get treated like garbage. A few heart to hearts does not undo being ignored for pretty much three straight seasons. 
- Dustin. Dustin (and the actor who plays him) has shaped up to be my favourite character in the series. He’s effortlessly funny, always the problem solver, and super smart. He feels the most consistent throughout the series, and so far has been the only one who I feel is *mostly* immune to the toxic masculine arch-type (cough Hopper season 3). 
- Satanic Panic. That was real, and the show capitalized on it pretty well. I can appreciate the drawing in of real world social phenomena to aid a storyline based on things that are not themselves real. 
- Adhering to the horror theme. I don’t like the horror theme, but I think in terms of the era - that being Satanic Panic and exorcism movies, they did pretty well. 
- Argyle. He’s pretty solid comedic relief.
Overall I’m interested to see what happens in 4.2. I am really hoping they rectify some of the issues I saw in 4.1, but I am not optimistic. This season felt to Stranger Things what The Last of Us 2 did to The Last of Us franchise. Please, just no more monologues. Show don’t tell, Netflix. I’m practically begging. 
What are your thoughts? Let me know!
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smortbokuto · 3 years
Text
Paper love.
warnings: utter and absolute tooth rotting fluff crack.
pairings: Bokuto x Akaashi.
a/n: here to bless you with soft bokuaka <3 AKAASHI HAD HIS HANDS ON HIS THIGHS JSOIWDEDW BYE
summary: if asked "how did you both meet?" it was simple for them to smile and say "i left my notes in a library and he left a note for me." that's all.
word count: 3.3k
Late afternoon of autumn season. a weather just as the liking of the ravenette who shuffled through the busy streets of the Tokyo with a fixed motto to reach the city library before the dusk paints the already orange yellow tinted sky. his gunmetal eyes landing on every moving figure, every breathing soul, every sign board all through the way till they bored holes into the brown, heavy gates of the library.
a breathy sigh left escaped past his lips at the contact with the antique handles stuck on the wooden doors as he pushed open the doors. thick cool gust of heavy temperature air conditioner fell over his, leaving his tousled hair to fall over his winter evening eyes.
pushing his hair back, slender, calloused fingers carding through the hair as he squinted taking a while to adjust to the dimness of the library which he was not acquainted with after being under the blood- orange sun.
two receptionist sat there behind a huge table, a glass wall over the table that reached the ceiling. to the opposite was huge tables, all dark brown with lit candles and lanterns in the middle of them, were standing on all fours side to side with equal distance. the shelves behind the tables. books and books, sea of books were stacked in a proper order. step stools randomly near every shelves. people balancing themselves on those stools to reach the destined choice of books. level two of the library was just the same, a curvy staircase going from either side of the receptionist table.
the blue and ocher yellow tinted windows all over the huge huge walls allowed the drowning sunlight let into the dim place. walls, painted in a pleasing aesthetic colors, paintings of ancient wars and other artefacts from different places hanging around them with their circa and details.
a perfect place for his anthropology studies.
walking towards the reception table he took the pen that rested between the crease of the entry book which already had listed numerous numbers of visitors.
'#762 Akaashi Keiji.'
padding his way towards a table of his liking, a table just beside the window with tinted shades on the upper level of the library. sitting down he allowed all his required material to spill out from his bag on the table. his journal, pointers already jotted down before hand, different loose sheets from his classes stacked under the journal, written in his pristine sharp writing. books open in front of him allowing him to soak in all the words of knowledge while he took notes and pointers in a fresh page. writing staying constant and neat even with the speed of writing them down.
slowly the minutes slipped into hours and he didn't realize when the already drowning sun had been reigned over by the full moon and stars hanging all around it.
sighing he looked at the analog watch wrapped around his lean wrist.
08:47 pm
picking up all his material he bolted out from the library, not before bowing slightly in front of the already leaving receptionist who returned his gratitude with a humble smile.
--
walk to the college next day was as monotonous as ever. reaching the class felt like slow drags of tired legs but alas, it all about the attendance. a must. ought to be done.
god, he hates it. but it can't be helped.
settling in his seat on the front row of the class he sipped on his warm coffee. the warmth seeping down his throat and heat blooming into the pits of stomach. a tired sigh left his throat.
all the chatters from the students nearby him felt distant as he closed his eyes to take in the reality and prepare mentally for all the upcoming long and slow classes.
"hey, Akaashi." a low voice, a little hesitant, came up from behind him making him open his eyes to turn around and face the owner of the voice. a blond, lean man stood in front of me.
'god, his eye bags can hold water without a miss...'
the male looked in distress.
"what is it?" the ravenette cringed internally at how deep his voice came out and how much sleep was still mixed with it.
"do you, perhaps, have the sub- headings for Human Evolution? i can't really figure them out.." his words turned into a whisper to himself by the end of the sentence. his hands scratching nape in anxiety and his eyes boring holes into everything and everyone but akaashi.
after a silence of fraction of seconds akaashi nodded reaching out to his bag as he felt the gloomy aura tune into a flowery pink aura of gratitude for the helping male.
a life saver, indeed.
for a second, Akaashi thought he had his life in control, his homework and notes on him but to his dismay it wasn't.
what a fucking joke.
disappointed with the lemons life kept giving him he retracted back his hands and rested it on his thighs as he turned back to face the confused male.
"uhh Akinori- san? looks like i have left it in the library i visited yesterday." he apologized telling the blond that he would click the picture of the lone sheet and send it to the male.
--
the whole day continued in a constant restlessness. he left an important somewhere in a public place. questions flooded his brain to the brim and no one could answer them but him.
no way in the living hell he is ready to make those sub- headings again. he felt like he would loose his last straw of humanity and sanity if he didn't find the page.
cursing internally he ran like a mad dog was let loose after him, ready to pounce and tear him apart. skidding slightly he stopped at the library entry. a chill went down his spine as he opened the door, dread settling in the pits of his stomach at the thought of him loosing the sheet.
oh, he really didn't want that.
writing his name on the entry book hastily he ran upstairs, skipping 3 steps at a time in a thought to reach fast. his lungs and calves burned to give them a rest from all the running without to which he ignored, too determined to find the sheet.
reaching the seat he had been siting yesterday he felt his heart pang within the captive of his ribs.
the sheet was still there. safe and sound.
but?
his eyes squinted at the small sticky note sticking on the sheet that's dear to his life. walking towards the page he collected it into his hands. reading the note a smile creeped up on his lips.
//hey! your name is really pretty. i found this sheet today and i kinda took notes from it. thanks for it!!//
thanking the person for the nth time he took out a sticky note from his bag and wrote a small thanks.
//hello, thanks for leaving the note. this sheet is important to me. and it's fine if you took notes, haha. what's your name?//
if he was honesty, he was not expecting any reply from the said person who had left the note.
but when the next day he came with Akinori to issue some books for the upcoming projects.
//oh!! my bad, sorry i thought i really did mention my name in the end. it's Bokuto Koutarou!! 22, going professional in volleyball and i have to study history as a side subject...
oh!! you seem nice. here: #xxxx xxx xxx. you can text me if you feel comfortable!!//
carefully folding the piece of yellow sticky note he kept it in his jean pocket.
later that day he sat there on his comforters of his bed, conflicted between texting the number or not.
what if it's a sick prank? someone else's number? perhaps a random number?? should he even take the risk?? scam??
ignoring all the thoughts he decided to take the risk. something about the name and the way the chits were written made this said man 'Bokuto Koutarou' very magnetic in nature.
texting a simple 'hello' and his name he threw his phone on the other end of the bed, groaning. he seemed desperate about this.
but he can't help! this guy Bokuto seemed really nice and he could be more, he guessed????
after what felt like godly slow centuries he felt his phone buzz, muffled by the covers around it. reaching the phone he checked the time, eyes widening.
03:05 am
he saw the text from a contact name from 'Bokuto?'. wasting not a single minute he saw the reply as smile tugging over his soft pink lips.
[oh! hey hey hey!!]
[i didn't expect you to reply.]
why was he even awake? well he was being a hypocrite to think like that when he was wide awake too knowing he has to reach college for classes. he was sure he would look dead.
but anyways he didn't mind the time and texted back the number. texts going back and forth. getting to know each other. it was basically Bokuto telling jokes, bitching about his teachers and everything he had experienced till now while Akaashi went along with the conversation, laughing at his antics and his bubbly nature.
ah, it felt nice. refreshing. even though he barely had slept in days.
god knows when the foggy night dipped low for the new autumn morning. the sunrays bleeding into his room from the partially open blinds, falling onto his study table. the clock reflecting the light onto the wall that fell on its cover glass.
he was still wide awake. fingers still typing continuously the keys of the keyboard of his phone. smiling every now and then at the replies he got from the other male.
fun indeed.
--
weeks passed with the continuous talking and sharing everyday stuff with each other and soon the autumn took its exit letting winters slide in for next few months.
chits were occasionally exchanged. the secluded corner of the second level of the chit exchange without showing themselves to each other became a habit they adjusted it into their busy schedule.
//ooo i came here today and i thought of leaving a chit for you to read. we should meet someday!!!!//
few days.
//we should, indeed. lets find a right time to meet.//
it was so comfortable.
Akaashi would be lying if he said he haven't sneaked to Bokuto's game.
oh god, it was a mess.
not only this man is fun to talk to and so polite and all but how can he be this good looking?!
"what the actual fuck." akaashi had muttered under his breath as he saw bokuto walk into the arena, chest puffing with pride. the ravenette felt his cheeks burn with a red tint paint purely over his cheekbones.
he could only think of one thing as he watched the pepper salt haired man play the whole match and win it.
'am i gay??????' god it sounded so scandalous.
but looking at him play. his muscles ripple with each moment he took. the way he ruffled his hair to wipe out the sweat, hair messy. the way his jersey rode up as he went in for a powerful spike. everything.
'god, i am so gay. what the fuck.'
akaashi decided he would never tell this to the other male. about him going to his matches only to fall more and more for him with every passing moment. the conversation, the antics, the looks, the nature. everything.
he won't admit that he practically got hard as the first thing in the morning when Bokuto had sent him a voice message of him saying a simple 'good morning'. the problem was not the good morning message but his fucking deep, heavy sleep laced voice.
god, he was down bad for the man.
the early winters slowly turned into mid winters with the call of snow. November slowly turned December and new year approached. a day where they both decided to meet. well for akaashi, he would see him for the nth time now. for bokuto.... first time.
akaashi decided to not tell this to bokuto. jesus, he felt like a damn stalker.
tapping on the shoulder of the man with pepper salt hair, who had his god sculptured back faced to the ravenette.
'i don't mind watching his back for the rest of my lif- jesus christ, shut the fuck up please. don't mess this up.' he mentally cursed as he saw the said man turn to face his gunmetal eyes. his grey eyebrows cocking up in a questioning look.
"how can i help you?"
"i am akaashi keiji..." he mumbled. lips parting slightly as he saw the other man grin ear to ear at the slip of the name.
the night went smoothly. they indulged in all the games that were available in the fair. ate every possible dish not having mercy on their hurting pockets.
ending the night at the river bank side, sitting comfortably on the mats that were set up for the viewers to witness the fireworks for the arrival of the new year.
but something for bokuto made it hard to look at the sky. he couldn't help but watch the man beside him from the corner of his eyes. he just looked so ethereal. skin so clear and pristine, basically reflecting all the colors painting the sky by the crackers. his eyes, blue, but shining so bright even under the dark sky.
he made sure to ask Akaashi for a pic together before he dropped him off. setting it as his lockscreen and homescreen.
'god have mercy, i am so gay.' he screamed in his head. mind not moving on from the burned image he he had drawn in his head of Akaashi. how can someone be this beautiful??
he has to keep it low- key. but, can he?
after the new year meet up. they met frequently. akaashi watching his matches while bokuto used to study, more like complain, with him at the library.
they were down bad for each other. but won't speak about it. just because.
time passes quick. seasons changes. winters came to an end. all the dried up trees showing a sign of life again. pink petals decorating every second tree so beautifully. the snow had melted away from the pleasant warmth of spring painting the whole land in fresh green and spots of pink from all the blossom leaves leaving the home of the trees.
feelings that were supposed to stay small and bottled up, filled up to the brim. it wasn't just a crush anymore. the seasons had changed but feelings remained the same within themselves for each other. and it kept building up till it was over flowing.
each glance, each action, each word and each conversation made them fall deeper into the suffocating feeling of love.
the thing is, akaashi is patient and he knows how to showcase his emotions. he knows what to show and what to not. but bokuto? oh honey no. he doesn't think twice before doing or saying something. he is... impatient.
an impatient person in love? disastrous.
he didn't think twice as he wrote a letter on a pale page. a letter on how much beautiful he finds Akaashi. he didn't think twice as he made his way to the library. he didn't think twice as he kept the letter there on their secluded seat of conversation.
he didn't think about the rejection that could come.
he just wished for the best. like he always does.
he waits. patiently, for once.
but again, for how long?
three days had passed but it seemed like akaashi hadn't even visited the awaited library. he had told bokuto about his upcoming project for the end of the semester. he had already issued books for the project a day before bokuto had kept the letter.
so close.
he decided: he can't wait anymore. he jolt up from his bed, hair hanging low over his forehead. he picked his phone typing away to the person he is so desperate for.
[hey!! can we meet at the library real quick?? its urgent.]
he wrote as he threw on a sweatshirt over his shirtless body. reaching the porch of his house his phone buzzed.
[its pretty late rn??? but sure.]
god, at last. but then the dread he had been ignoring settled in. what if he rejects? what if i ruin what we have? no no, he doesn't want this.
panicking he put on his shoes, sprinting out from his apartment. not wanting to wait for the elevator he took the stairs. 12 floors down from stairs... he ran, not giving his lungs the needed break from one block to another. the roads empty with only few passer by walking back home maybe and the light lamps only illuminating the empty sidewalk and roads.
he just wished for akaashi to not have reached before him as he stood on front of the library doors. he pushed them open taking a deep breath as he padded slowly up the stairs.
taking a turn to the place he had to reach his eyes widened at the figure he wanted to see after he reached but no. he was tad bit late.
akaashi stood there, teal sweatshirt hanging over his lean figure. letter, open and probably read by now, between his slender fingers. his head whipped up to see bokuto, mouth gapped, wanting to say something but nothing came out.
"i- i can explain." bokuto never thought his voice could come out so small. "its okay if you will reject me. i mean it will hurt like a bitch but its fair... you have your own choices and i was selfish to write it i guess... i don't wanna ruin what we both have!! i cherish it a lot."
he was rambling at this point trying his best to explain his emotions that where all over the place. he was so messed with his words he didn't hear the multiple times akaashi had uttered his name. it was until akaashi had to practically yelp out his name in a dead silent library.
"Bokuto!! what the hell??"
"wha- what?" oh god, he sounds so upset...
"can you let me speak now? there is nothing for you to explain. the letter did its job already." the shorter man commented.
there was a heavy silence between them as akaashi busied himself in folding the letter back and putting it in the envelop. bokuto couldn't hear the paper rustling as it was being folded but his heart shattering at the due rejection.
the taller man didn't look up from the ground. he didn't have the balls to look into those gunmetal eyes. he figured it would be filled with anger and hatred.
he was so ready to hear the rejection now.
but nothing came.
slowly he lifted his head, taking the risk to look at the man in front of him. he took a step back when he saw akaashi smiling, face flushed in shades of pink and red under the light of lanterns that were lit all around the library for the starry night.
"won't you speak anything now?" he whispered. "aren't you going to reject me?"
"no? why would i?" akaashi answered with a question. smile never faltering.
huh?
"wait- you like me??" his words came out chocked at the realization. maybe it was mutual. maybe it wasn't as scandalous as it looked like. i was a new bloom of love.
"no, i like you too." he drawled out walking towards Bokuto. "like a lot. pretty desperate you can say. i just thought that it would never be mutual so i kept it in."
to say that bokuto was happy was an understatement. all these months together with him as friends was all something he always had wished but now? lovers? yes. how can he ask for anything more than this?
his hands reached out to the male walking towards him, pulling him into a hug he craved to give him so desperately.
"i love you so much."
41 notes · View notes
naminethewriter · 4 years
Text
An Unexpected Meeting and a Few Surprises
Part 1 of the Remus and His Daughter Series       Next➡
Here on Ao3 
Characters: Patton, Remus, Original Female Child Character
Relationships: Past Patton/Remus
Rating: T
Words: 1,548
Summary:  Remus vanished 5 years ago after doing something really hurtful to Patton. Now suddenly Patton comes across him again and he doesn't know how to react. Especially since Remus has unexpected company...
Patton liked to take a stroll through the mall after closing shop for the day. Virgil rarely accompanied him on these walks because while the crowd and loud atmosphere was kind of calming to Patton, for Virgil it was the complete opposite. So unless he had some business within the mall to take care of, he chose the shorter route back to their apartment complex. Patton didn’t mind that his path took a bit longer, on the contrary. Doing a bit of window shopping after a stressful day helped him relax. Plus he would pass the animal shelter this way and he loved stopping by there, even if he couldn’t take care of the pets himself. Curse his allergies!
Patton was leisurely walking along the row of shops, letting his eyes wander and trying to remember if he needed to get any groceries when his eyes fell on someone he hadn’t seen in years. Frozen in his tracks, he couldn’t help but stare at Remus Prince. He hadn’t seen the man since he disappeared 5 years ago but it wasn’t hard to recognize him. For one, Patton lived with his twin brother Roman and the resemblance between the two was still as uncanny as it’s always been. But even aside from that Remus doesn’t appear to have changed that much at all. His style was still a bit punk, with his ripped black jeans and bright green t-shirt, probably with the logo of some metal band on the front (but he was too far away for Patton to say for sure). It was to confirm from this distance, but he was pretty sure Remus had a few more tattoos on his still very muscular arms that he held crossed over his chest while leaning against a wall. He looked so relaxed, like he didn’t have a care in the world. Patton could also see the piercings in Remus’ ears gleam in the artificial light and his signature moustache still remained above his upper lip. He seemed to be watching something further up ahead that Patton couldn’t quite see from his spot, Remus’ eyes never straying. This, for the Remus Patton knew, seemed quite strange.
 Patton remained glued to his spot, watching, unsure of what to do. With most old acquaintances, he’d go over and say hi but Remus… Remus was different. Remus was his ex.
 Granted they didn’t go out all that long, barely 3 months and they had been friends for years before that. But their break-up did not only cause Remus to drop out of college but he also broke off all contact with pretty much everyone they knew. Even with his best friend Janus. And since Roman was his only relative he still spoke to, none of them knew how to find him. Not that they tried all that hard.
 See, the reason that Patton and Remus broke up was that Patton hadn’t been ready to be more… intimate with Remus who proceeded to dump him after trying to convince him for a week. Remus basically admitted that he only went out with Patton because he knew it would annoy his brother but that that wasn’t really worth it if he couldn’t even have sex with him. Needless to say, Roman had been furious; almost going as far as having a physical fight with his brother and Patton was left heartbroken. (Ok, that was an exaggeration. In retrospect Patton understood that he himself had never actually loved Remus, but misinterpreted his feelings of empathy as affection. But that was a different problem).
 After that Remus disappeared. Which wasn’t all that unusual, really. He had a habit of wandering off, skipping classes and not contacting anyone for days at a time only to suddenly reappear as if nothing happened with increasingly wild stories to go along with it. On rare occasions, Janus would be with him but his take on such events were even more unbelievable than Remus’.
 So it wasn’t until almost two weeks later that Janus got actually worried. His concern fell on deaf ears however, Patton didn’t really want to see Remus again that soon, Roman was still very mad (and proclaimed so loudly), Logan was stressing over assignments and papers so he spared little attention for anything else and Virgil, who used to be a lot closer with Janus and Remus in high school, had seen his extortion of Patton’s feelings for him as going way too far. So Janus went looking for Remus on his own and after a few days of digging he found out that Remus dropped out of college two days after the break-up and left his apartment vacant the day after that. Most likely he’d left town. To go where? No one knew.
 Even with that information, only Logan showed some actual concern. Roman waved it off, comparing his brother to a cockroach and saying that he would be back to bother them soon enough. Janus refused to talk to any of them but Logan for a month after that and their contact with him decreased slowly over the years. Nowadays only Logan still had semi-regular contact with him.
 Remus remained gone. For 5 years no one had seen a single hair from him. And now Patton had been staring at him for what felt like hours but could only have been a few minutes at most. In all that time Remus eyes have not wavered for a second, still looking at something Patton couldn’t see, a soft smile on his lips that seemed so out-of-place on the familiar face.
 Before Patton could panic any more about what to do, Remus finally moved. Patton watched him move away from the wall a few steps, uncrossing his arms in the process. Then, to Patton’s total surprise, he crouched down to greet a little girl that had run up to him. She couldn’t be older than 10, her brown hair pulled up into a ponytail and an ice cream cone in her hand. She and Remus talked, but they were too far away and their surroundings were too loud for Patton to hear them. The girl was smiling, jumping up and down slightly in excitement while Remus had an unmistakably fond look on his face.
 Patton couldn’t believe his eyes. Not once in all the years he’d known Remus Prince had he witnessed him making that kind of expression. While Patton was flabbergasted, Remus stood back up. The girl seemed to pout, lifting her arms up toward him. Remus laughed but proceeded to pick her up, holding her to his side with one arm. While the girl did appear to be a bit thin, Patton was still kind of impressed with how effortless Remus made it seem.
 Now, with the girl securely in his arms and enjoying her ice cream, Remus let his gaze drift over the crowd, his mouth moving, probably still talking to the child. Before Patton could even think about moving out of his line of sight, their eyes met.
 Time stopped for Patton. His anxiety was screaming at him to turn around and leave as quickly as possible but his feet wouldn’t cooperate. To him it felt like they were staring at each other for an eternity and suddenly he could understand all those deer caught in the headlights. The spell, or whatever that was, was broken when Remus suddenly turned his head away. When Patton himself moved his gaze to see what had caught his attention, he was met with another pair of eyes staring at him.
 The girl on Remus’ arm had noticed him, too, and had probably asked Remus about him. Patton, not wanting to seem like a creepy stalker, put a smile on his face and gave them a little wave. Immediately the girl frowned. Startled, Patton lowered his arm again. Remus glanced back at him for a second before his surprised expression was replaced by a smile that seemed a bit more reminiscent of the Remus Patton knew, with a hint of mischief on his lips. Remus chuckled before saying something to the girl. She finally stopped staring at Patton who let out a relieved breath, since when had he been holding it?! to look at Remus instead, apparently answering him. Remus nodded at her in return. She looked back to Patton with a more thoughtful look. After looking him over one more time, she gave him a small, shaky smile and waved back.
 Before Patton could react, she turned away (at least as much as she could on Remus’ arm) and concentrated on her ice cream. Remus chuckled again. Then he met Patton’s eyes one more time and gave him a quick two-finger salute before disappearing into the crowd in the opposite direction.
 Patton remained in his spot for several more moments, still processing the events of the last few minutes. A few things were clear:
 1.  Remus Prince was back in town.
 2.  He was accompanied by a small girl.
 3.  They seemed to be unusually close.
 4.  He knew Patton had seen him.
 How in the world was he supposed to explain all that to Roman?!?
 With a quite groan, Patton continued on his way home. He did not stop by the animal shelter that day.
28 notes · View notes
pinkhairedlily · 3 years
Text
Chapter 3 - Student Council President Sakura
SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER
“Good morning, Sensei.”
Long trails of pink hair fell just inches above Kakashi’s face. He opened his eyes from a short morning nap and found Sakura shielding him from the summer sun. The book he was reading was on his stomach, turned down and split on the page he stopped.
“Good morning, Sakura. You let your hair down.”
She grinned at him and took a few steps back as he stood up. “I didn’t have time to dry my hair. I didn’t want to be late on my first day of class.”
“You had time to wake me up though.”
Internal panic coursed through Sakura which intensified more when he yawned and smirked, obviously teasing her, but it emphasized the small mole above his chin – something she was always fascinated about. “It’s bad impression when freshmen students find their teacher littering on campus grounds, Sensei.” I’m so proud of my quick wit. She happily sauntered away from the speechless, heads-over-heels, oblivious student trap.
Kakashi walked with her until the main entrance of the building, easily avoiding Sakura’s inquisitions of his summer break shenanigans and pinning the lack of it on the endless teacher trainings and seminars. Just before he left her to go the faculty room, he took a rubber band from his wrist and gave it to her. “In case you’ll get conscious and want to tie your hair. Have a good day, Sakura.”
She wasn’t conscious at all; she let it down for him, the hair tie in her skirt’s pocket – her pink strands freed at will to demand for his undivided attention, but she opened her palm to receive his offer all the same. She sighed after his fading figure in the gathering crowd.
New class lists were pasted on the bulletin board, and she scanned for names. Two particular people caught her attention. Ironically, they also appeared within her field of sight.
“Oh, Sakura. Good morning!” Naruto’s loud voice was ringing even though he just entered the building. If she would describe him, he was the embodiment of sunshine. He just had that positive energy around him which she liked. Walking close behind him was Sasuke, the stoic genius of their batch, and the opposite of Naruto. “How was your summer, Sakura?”
“Hmm, nothing much.” She glanced ever so quickly at Sasuke and saw him pay no mind. She liked that about him because while he was so unlike his loud, chatty friend, his energy was warm and kind, just hiding behind a tall wall of vulnerability. “I heard you joined the baseball team. Congratulations!”
Naruto shyly scratched his head. “I’m still a rookie though. I’ve got ways to go.”
That wasn’t entirely true. Sakura heard through the vine that he got mad agility skills, and that every sports team wanted him to try out. So much has changed in a year.
“Come on, we’re gonna be late.” Sasuke said.
“I haven’t seen which class I’m in yet!”
He grabbed the blonde by the collar and led the way. “We’re classmates.”
“Yeah, we’re classmates.” Sakura fell in step with Sasuke, Naruto frozen in shock. What an odd trio they must have been.
------------------------------
Their seating arrangement was pasted on the board when they came in. Sasuke got the seat beside the window – a good position for daydreams and afternoon naps. Sakura was placed beside him with a nice center view of the room, and Naruto was in front of her.
“Hey, Sakura. I need to tell you something, but it’s quite embarrassing. You see, I tend to fall asleep in the middle of class and since I’m in front of you…..erm….uhhh.”
“What he meant to say is he drools,” Sasuke interrupted. This apparently irked Naruto who full on glared at him.
“Well, yes, I drool. I have short attention span and classes make me so sleepy, but I hope that won’t disturb you. Just please look over my head.”
“How can she when there’s a porcupine sitting on it?”
Sakura chuckled at their weird, friendly banter. “Yeah sure, whatever you say Naruto. I don’t get easily distracted anyway.” She forgot to ask earlier if Kakashi will still be teaching Math for second years or which section his homeroom will be. As if her thoughts conjured him, he walked in their room, his silver hair glinting against the sunlight, and his eyes wandering in search for a face. Hushed gushes of admiration spread through the students, awed by the silent imposition of his presence. Then, his eyes fell on her.
He bridged the gap between them in easy, wide strides. “Ms. Haruno, the student council is looking for you.”
“They really sent you on an errand, Sensei?” No one dared to look beyond their interactions. She was easy-going, casual without being disrespectful, the model cheerful student, and the teachers’ pet. Teasing him with her half-truths hanging in between words was not difficult to cover up.
“Of course, I’m the council’s adviser.” And of course, she was thankful for his obliviousness.
------------------------------
“What do you think could it be? Did Sakura get into a scuffle?” Naruto asked after Sakura left with Kakashi. “No, that’s not really possible.”
Sasuke shrugged. He just wanted the day, or rather, the term to end quickly. He purposely avoided visiting the café, going in the mornings rather than late nights, partly because he didn’t want to run into her and partly because he was scared. He was just safely keeping his distance.
Sakura returned just before the next class started with an exuberant expression. The next teacher basically confirmed the news. “Congrats, Ms. Haruno Sakura. Thanks for stepping up to be the next student council president.” The position was left vacant after the initial appointee decided to focus on preparations and review to move abroad for college. The council, with faculty approval, recommended her to take the rein.
Hmm. They trust her abilities to this extent, huh. Sasuke looked outside, uninterested with the unfolding event and the break of congratulations around her. He saw her reflection on the window, smiling widely at her classmates, but her hands told another story, her fingers just solely focused on the rubber tie around her wrist.
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Naruto had to stay behind for baseball practice which Sasuke was thankful for, but his feet didn’t want to go back home so he hid in their spot, napped for a while, and waited for Naruto’s message. When the blonde finally finished, Sasuke went to the field to fetch him.
“Sasuke, they’ll be joining us for dinner!” Naruto said.
“Sure, invite another team more.” Just his luck, Sasuke hated company, but like all other instances, he kept being dragged within his friend’s orbit. The team waved at him silently, knowing for a fact now that he didn’t respond to anyone other than Naruto.
“Really?” Naruto’s eyes perked up then a moment later realized that Sasuke was being sarcastic. He wrapped an arm around his shoulder and led the way to their usual ramen house.
“Get your hands off me, you vermin.”
“Awww they told me this was probably your love language – friendly banter.”
“Naruto, that didn’t come from us. We don’t want to get killed!” his teammates collectively chimed behind him. “Sorry Sasuke.”
Sasuke released a heavy sigh, quickly glaring at the players, but also letting the remarks slide. At least, this was a better option than being early at home and alone. After dinner, Naruto badgered him for desserts.
“I think I need a sugar rush. All the sugar left my body during practice. I envy Team Captain Haru.”
“The one with the undercut? His hair looked boring.”
“He has a steady supply of sweetness in his life. His girlfriend, Hinata, always visited during summer break. Quiet but supportive of our practice games. She cheers for him on the side and brings us snacks. I want a girlfriend too.”
“That’s normal, considering you’re a hormonal teenager.”
“Aren’t you the same?”
“Nope, I’m just a teenager.” His feet unconsciously led him to the café where Sakura worked. Ah, shit. “Hey, let’s go to another place.”
“This looks okay, grumpy! Besides, my feet hurt. Please have mercy on your dear friend.”
“You’re not my friend.”
“That’s a part of your love language too. Ehe. Come on now.”
Despite internally wishing she wasn’t present this evening, he found himself face to face again with Sakura. She had the usual disguise, but her makeup was on the heavier side – cat-shaped eyeliner just made her eyes stood up more. When she saw them, the first thing she did was look at him, conveying a questioning look, possibly on whether Naruto knew who she was. Sasuke subtly shook his head once.
Ever the simple-minded, Naruto’s focus was on the sweets. “I’ll have strawberry milkshake and a slice of red velvet cheesecake please!” It was going so well until he saw her face. Leaning in to Sasuke, he whispered. “She kinda looks familiar, don’t you think?”
“Your order, Sir?” Unfazed, Sakura continued doing her job. Her eyes looked towards the last plate of cream puffs.
“One slice of tomato cake and a matcha latte.”
“What?” Sakura and Naruto said at the same time.
“Even the lady agrees that that dessert sound unappetizing!” Naruto stuck out his tongue for a more theatrical effect. “Get a brownie or a cream puff.”
“I’m treating you so let me eat my tomatoes in peace.” Sasuke held out his card to Sakura who was still weirded out by his selection. Did he really give off a strong impression of his cream puffs inclination?
“I feel like we have a vibe going on.” Naruto leaned towards the counter, seemingly flirting with Sakura-in-disguise. “Maybe it’s because you have the same eye color?”
Before he could embarrass himself any further and prematurely confess his yet half-hearted feelings, Sasuke dragged Naruto away from the counter and on the farthest table of the café. “You made her uncomfortable. Stop it.”
“She looked like Sakura! But of course, our student council president looks more ethereal. I bet she’s so busy with school and club activities, she won’t have time for this.”
He spent an hour or so listening to Naruto talk about his baseball practice, the expired ramen he accidentally cooked last night, and the difficulty of their classes. It somehow ended on a note, much more like an imposition from Naruto, that Sasuke will give him supplementary lessons in this café and with his allowance.
They were about to leave when Sakura beckoned them over. She had two paper bags in her hands, and Sasuke noticed the absence of cream puffs. Someone must have ordered it already.
“Here’s a treat on the house – one for each of you. We’re giving freebies if you order within this timeframe. Come again!”
“This is so great! Thank you!” Naruto beamed at her but remembered something. “Hey, I’m sorry if I felt like a creep earlier. It wasn’t my intention.”
“Uh, that’s all right. I get that a lot.” She beamed back at him.
“You have the same beautiful eye color with our classmate. She’s cheerful, assertive, and has this positive energy around her. We hope we could be friends with her. Thanks for this again!”
Sasuke was too late to stop Naruto’s ramble, but he guessed it turned out fine. She just continued smiling like a good ole polite employee. “Get going, Naruto. I want to rest.” The two of them stepped out on the street with the fresh evening breeze.
“I feel like I still creeped her out.”
“Maybe you did.” Sasuke smirked at the tortured expression on Naruto’s face.
When he came home, he opened the paper bag to place the contents inside the fridge. It didn’t occur to him to ask why that promo wasn’t offered to him when he came last time, but nonetheless, he was a bit glad that he had something to munch on aside from processed food. His thoughts halted when he saw the cream puffs inside. His hands fetched his phone and he quickly dialed Naruto’s number.
“Grumpy, you missed me already?”
“What did she give you?”
“Who? Oh? You mean the café lady? Brownies! Do you think I can share these with Sakura tomorrow?”
Sasuke hang up on him without answering his question. He just kept on staring at the cream puffs on his kitchen counter.
Yeah, I better keep my distance.
AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 4
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toosicktoocare · 4 years
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ATLA Benders College AU
Snippet 3: My First Kiss Went A Little Like This
Setting: Junior Year, Sokka and Zuko
Find Snippet 1, Warmth Beyond a Bonfire, here!
Find Snippet 2, And They Were Roommates, here!
“So, weird question.” Though he opens the idea, efficiently breaking the comfortable silence between the two, Sokka still feels an unsettling onset of nerves overcome him, and he keeps his eyes focused on the sleeves of his hoodie as if the loose fabric is far more interesting than the movie playing on the TV. He tugs the fabric over his fingers, a nervous habit he’s watched Zuko do one too many times.
“Hmm?” Zuko’s almost absent in the present, too lost within the plot of the movie, an odd romance set in a dynasty era between a fire bender and a water bender that’s far too similar to Romeo and Juliet. At least, that’s how Sokka perceives it.
“If, hypothetically speaking, I were to take FB 101 next semester as one of my elective hours, and, still hypothetically speaking, I wanted to get a jumpstart on the course, would you, hypothetically, teach me fire bending?” Sokka’s mouth is dry, his words spilling clumsily from his tongue, and he’s slow to pry his eyes up from his sleeves when he hears the soft whir of the TV turning off.
Zuko’s not mad like Sokka had been expecting, and he hasn’t taken to a withdrawn stance at the question. His eyes are more… curious, Sokka thinks, taking in the slight tilt of Zuko’s head and the hint of a furrow in his brows.
“There were a lot of hypotheticals in that question,” Zuko starts, a small frown teasing at the corners of his lips, “but, if I heard correctly, you want me to teach you fire bending?”
“Hypothetically, yes,” Sokka says, masking a wince at his own words.
“Sokka, you do know that you can’t learn fire bending, right? You have to be a—”
“—born bender, or the Avatar, yeah,” Sokka finishes with a nervous laugh, one hand finding the back of his neck. “Totally, yeah. It’s just…” He struggles with his words, something he’s not entirely used to, a foreign feeling coating his mind. “I just… I just think it would be cool to see you bend.”
“You’ve seen me bend plenty of times,” Zuko presses, voice wavering slightly against the unspoken weight of his words, under the wordless knowledge that thousands have seen him bend with such hatred, such aggravation, to the point he almost killed Aang.
“I know, but I was kind of thinking you could just kind of walk me through a few things. One-on-one. No pressure from a large audience. Just you, me, and some fireballs.” He nudges Zuko’s thigh with his foot, offering a smile that he hopes shows the trust he’s built up toward Zuko over the last few months, and Zuko slaps Sokka’s foot away, yet he keeps golden eyes trained to steady blue ones for an endless moment, searching for a falter in Sokka’s suggestion.
“You’re serious about this.” A statement, but Sokka nods anyway.
“You aren’t,” Zuko pauses, dragging his knees up to his chest, “afraid?” His voice is a cracking whisper, and he clears his throat and rakes one hand through his hair, back arching into a curve as he drops his cheek to his knee, eyes never leaving Sokka’s face.
“Zuko, how many times do we have to go over this?” Sokka starts with a sigh. “You aren’t the person you were last semester.”
“I am, actually,” Zuko mutters, and Sokka turns until he’s fully facing Zuko on the couch.
“No, you aren’t. Last semester was Prince Zuko cracking under the fear and pressure of his father. Present time November is Zuko, an awkward, nerdy, shy, loser—”
“—Okay, thank you. I get it.” Zuko cracks a smile, and Sokka tilts his head far to the side to meet Zuko’s eyes from the same angle, his hair falling loosely over his shoulder.  
“So, is that a yes?”
“I guess so.”
***
Sokka’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, regretting his relatively thin jacket choice. He rubs his hands together quickly, blowing into them to bring some warmth back. He watches as Zuko shivers before the clear, frozen lake he brought them to as he sheds his thick coat.
“Zuko,” Sokka calls out, voice trembling slightly, “we can wait if you need to. I know, now, that fire benders and cold don’t mix.”
“It’s fine,” Zuko says. “It will still be cold when your FB 101 course starts, so we might as well do it now.” He steps away from his coat, the cold chill of the wind pushing hard against him, but he shakes his arms and his legs, loosening his tense muscles. He plants his feet firmly on the ground beneath him, steady, quiet.
“You can stand here, but not any closer. I don’t want to hurt you.” He motions Sokka forward, holding his hand out to stop him when he’s sure Sokka’s a safe distance away. “Are you ready?” He meets Sokka’s eyes, and he chases the bright, bursting trust that emits from such a strong gaze.
“You bet I am!”
Nodding, Zuko pulls his gaze up toward the cloudy sky and sucks in a deep, cold breath, his eyes slipping closed. “First, I pull all my focus toward the heat within my core.” As naturally as breathing, he zeroes in on the heat swelling within his center being and starts pushing it outward toward his limbs. “Then, I just kind of push it around my entire body.” Heat begins to cover every inch of him, and he lifts his hands, palms outstretched forward. “I’m not sure how to explain it, but I let the heat build until I know it’s ready to manifest into fire. It kind of toes the line of too hot—that’s when I know I’m ready.”
He focuses the growing heat to his hands, mind clearing, and then he opens his eyes just as a steady flame bursts from his palm out across the frozen lake, raining embers over thick ice. He moves unconsciously after that, slinging fire as easy as it is to throw a ball, getting lost within the hot, fluid movements, only edging off when the heat begins to take to a more aggressive, almost suffocating, feeling that bites at his chest.
He’s hot all over. Sweat beads at his temples, and he finds that he’s slightly breathless, a combination of not bending fully for a couple of months and the strain of bending during winter. His chest is rising and falling a little too fast against the waning adrenaline, and he brings a bright gaze to see Sokka watching him so intently, it brings a different kind of flush to his cheeks.
“Did you take notes?”
“I don’t think I’ll ever forget this,” Sokka whispers, dazed, and Zuko smiles sheepishly and turns to Sokka, stopping just before him.
“If you don’t close your mouth, you’ll start drooling.”
Sokka snaps his jaw shut, his cheeks growing a deep red from embarrassment and from that other damn feeling he cannot shake no matter how hard he tries. He watches Zuko laugh before him, a warm sound that echoes around them, and he wants to chase the sound, breathe it in, etch it into his memory.
He realizes, just as the first snowflakes fall around them, that he feels so, blessedly warm, and his heart is starting to pick up in speed. He could be wrong, but the pure, fond look in Zuko’s eyes, the similar, pink blush to his pale cheeks…
Running on instinct alone, he pushes forward and presses his lips firmly to Zuko’s, drinking in the steady, warm, soft heat of Zuko’s lips that are so close to molding so naturally to his. But, after a few seconds of muted encouragement, Zuko remains so stiff and unsure against him, and his heart plummets deep within his chest.
He staggers back, eyes flying open, and Zuko’s expression is frustratingly unreadable as he raises a shaking hand to cover his mouth.
“Shit, sorry,” Sokka starts, voice quick and sputtering, “I misread. I’m so sorry. I just thought—” He stumbles backward, arms wrapping around himself, feeling suddenly all too cold. “I’ll go back first.”
Zuko can’t find his voice, can’t find a steady tone to call out to Sokka. He’s shaking, but not from the cold, and behind his hand, his lips curve into a soft, eager smile that further warms the flush in his cheeks.
It’s not until Sokka’s just disappearing from sight that he finds his voice, a weak, stunned whisper. “You didn’t misread.”
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grailfinders · 4 years
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Fate & Phantasms #54: Caligula
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Today on Fate and Phantasms, we’re building Gaius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, better known as Caligula, in D&D 5e. Nero’s uncle is the dreaded Bardbarian, going mad on the battlefield and spreading that madness through the ranks of his enemies.
Check out the level-by-level breakdown below the cut, or the build summary over here.
Race and Background
Despite his best efforts, Caligula was a (Variant) Human, giving him +1 Strength, +1 Dexterity, Insight proficiency, and the Fighting Initiate feat to grab the Unarmed Fighting fighting style. I know you’re not using it now, but you were a famous politician at one point. Also, that feat lets you make unarmed attacks that deal 1d6 damage on a hit, or 1d8 if you use both hands.
You’re the third emperor of Rome, which makes calling you a Noble a bit of an understatement. You get History and Persuasion proficiency, because you still remember what a Rome is.
Stats
Your Strength is your highest ability. Not sure if you were paying attention up there, but you’re choking out a lion at max ascension. Second is your Constitution, you’re not easy to kill, and all your class features are tied to it. Dexterity’s next for some extra AC. Your Charisma isn’t bad, you’re terrifying and a politician-so terrifying and terrifying. Your Intelligence and Wisdom are low and lower, because Madness Enhancement. Honestly, wisdom would’ve been your dump stat regardless of your class, you weren’t exactly King Wenceslas. 
Class Levels
1. Barbarian 1: You know the song and dance by now: Rage- Bonus action to transform for a minute, get advantage on strength checks and saves, add damage to your attacks, and you resist physical damage types (bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing). All that comes at the cost of not being able to cast or concentrate on spells for the duration, and it ends early if you stop attacking or taking damage. Unarmored Defense- an AC based on your dexterity and constitution. You’re one of the few berserkers wearing something resembling armor though, so don’t worry about it too much. Just don’t pick up the heavy stuff and you’re fine.
Barbarians also get proficiency in Strength and Constitution saves, as well as two barbarian skills. You’re good with Athletics (see: choking out a lion, above) and Intimidation(see: choking out a lion).
2. Barbarian 2: You’re not known for your restraint, so Reckless Attack makes a lot of sense for you. All your attacks get advantage at the cost of opening yourself up until the next turn, causing all attacks against you to have advantage too. You also have a Danger Sense, giving you advantage on dexterity saves against effects you can see, like fireballs, letting you play fiddle while your party burns.
3. Barbarian 3: Third level barbarians set down a primal path. When you choose the Path of the Beast from an unearthed arcana, you gain the Form of the Beast. While raging, you can transform yourself in one of three ways, gaining a natural weapon for the duration. 
Bite gives you a bite attack that deals 1d8 piercing damage, and once per turn you can regain health equal to your proficiency bonus when you hit if you’re bloodied. 
Claws deal 1d6 slashing damage, and give you an additional attack each attack action. (I’d let you mix this with your Unarmed Fighting to do 1d8 with both hands, but I’m not your DM)
Tail deals 1d8 piercing damage and has reach. You can also use your reaction when attacked to add 1d8 to your AC for that attack.
If you want to keep things canon compliant, Bite (and just ignoring the transformation) would be your best pick, but the claws are fine too.
4. Barbarian 4: Use your first ASI to beef up your Charisma. We need it for multiclassing, and extra yelling.
5. Barbarian 5: Fifth level barbarians get an Extra Attack, letting you make two attacks per action, or three with your claws out. That’s a lot of hitting for a level 5 character. You also get Fast Movement, adding 10′ to your movement speed while not wearing heavy armor.
6. Bard 1: Multiclassing into bard gives you proficiency in one skill of your choice. You’re an angry, screamy, punchy man, so you’re not using your skills that often, and you’re certainly handling that lion well, so why not Animal Handling.
First level bards also get Spellcasting, using Charisma as your casting ability, and Bardic Inspiration, a number of d6s you can give to other creatures to help with saves, checks, or attack rolls as a bonus action. They’re replenished after long rests.
Caligula’s an interesting case for a bard: he’s not so much singing magic into existence as he is making everyone else go mad with him, so his spells are either entirely mental (driving people mad) or entirely physical (things he could do without magic). For example, Dancing Lights is the former, making everyone around him hallucinate a bunch of floating light, and True Strike is the latter, letting him hit things good. Bane reduces a number of creatures’ ability to strategize, reducing their attacks and saving throws for the duration. Dissonant Whispers and Tasha’s Hideous Laughter induce madness in a single target, causing them to flee or break out in uncontrollable laughter respectively. Longstrider is just Fast Movement Part 2: Roman Boogaloo.
7. Bard 2: Second level bards become a Jack of All Trades. Just like your niece, your Imperial Privilege lets you do whatever you want. You also get a Song of Rest, adding 1d6 to your party’s healing in short rests. I don’t really have a way to flavor that into your build, but we’re already taking liberties with the whole “growing a tail” thing. Frankly this is tame in comparison.
Also, thanks to Thunderwave you can shout really loud, dealing thunder damage to creatures around you and pushing loose objects away.
8. Barbarian 6: Sixth level beast barbarians have a Bestial Soul, making your natural weapons magical for the sake of overcoming resistance. Also, after each rest you can pick one of three options to add to your mobility:
You gain a swim speed equal to your walking speed and can breathe underwater.
You gain a climbing speed and can climb difficult terrain, including upside down, without a climbing check.
Once per turn when you jump, you can add an athletics check (your entire check) to the jump’s length.
Again, most of these break canon, but the added jump distance does it the least. If anyone asks, this is what happens when Madness Enhancement gets mixed with Imperial Privilege. You can do whatever you want, and don’t care if it’s physically possible.
9. Barbarian 7: Your Feral Instinct gives you advantage on initiative rolls, and you can ignore being surprised by raging. You’re not totally sure what’s going on at any point in time, so just go with the flow. “The flow” being punching people.
10. Barbarian 8: Use your next ASI to beef up your Constitution for more health, and some extra bonuses later.
11. Bard 3: Third level bards graduate from a college. You’re not one for higher education, but The College of Valor has some stuff in it that’ll be useful. Double your proficiency bonus in Athletics and Intimidation with some Expertise, and use Combat Inspiration to let others add your inspiration dice to damage rolls and AC. Spread a little bit of fury around the battlefield to give your party the edge in combat.
For your spell this level, Crown of Madness forces a creature to lash out at its allies, but it also eats up your action each turn so it might make more sense to just hit them yourself. Of course you’re mad, so you don’t have to do the most logical things.
12. Barbarian 9: Ninth level barbarians get a Brutal Critical, adding an extra die to your attacks when you roll a 20. You’re not super strong, but you are super sadistic.
13. Barbarian 10: Tenth level beasts gain an Infectious Fury. While raging, if you hit a creature with your natural weapons, you can force them to make a wisdom save of DC 8+ your constitution modifier + your proficiency bonus. If they fail, one of two effects occurs:
They use their reaction to attack another creature within 5′ of them that you choose.
They take 2d12 psychic damage.
You can only attempt this a number of times per long rest equal to your proficiency bonus, so choose carefully.
14. Bard 4: We want those limited Fury uses to really count, so beef up your Constitution even more for more health and chances to Fury.
Also, grab Knock. It’s less “magic” and more “’knock’ing down the door”. You’re the emperor, you go where you want.
15. Bard 5: Fifth level bards get a bonus to their Inspiration, bringing it up to some d8s, and become a Font of Inspiration, regaining inspiration on short rests instead of long ones.
You also get a third level spell! Enemies Abound lets a creature you target become as good at seeing the darkness inherent in all humans as you are if they fail a wisdom save (read: they become as paranoid as you, picking their targets at random when they attack). This lasts for a minute, but requires concentration, so you can’t set the spell and then run off to bite people.
16. Barbarian 11: Your rage is now relentless! Relentless Rage can keep you fighting after you drop to 0 hp while raging. When that happens, if you pass a DC 10 constitution save you drop to 1 hp instead, and the DC increases by 5. It resets after a short rest, so feel free to take a breather if you die too many times.
17. Barbarian 12: Use your last ASI to bump your Charisma for stronger spell saves and a stronger oratory presence.
18. Barbarian 13: You get another Brutal Critical die at this level, making your attacks even more sadistic than they were already
19. Barbarian 14: Fourteenth level beasts can hear the Call of the Hunt. Choose a number of willing creatures up to your constitution modifier when you start a rage. These creatures can roll a d6 and add it to their damage roll once per turn while you rage. (This is different than getting another d6, it doesn’t work with crits.) For each creature that accepts your gift, you gain 5 temporary HP per creature. You can only use this feature a number of times per long rest equal to your proficiency bonus.
20. Barbarian 15: For your last level, you gain a Persistent Rage, letting you continue to rage until you end it willingly. Some people run away from the screaming vortex of madness, making it harder to keep your rage going. Now that’s less of an issue.
Pros:
If you’ll pardon the wordplay, you’re very adaptable, with a wide range of movement options to stay mobile in varying settings. You can also change up your combat style a bit depending on what you’re fighting. Sometimes a flurry of blows from your claws will be best, sometimes you’ll want a heavier attack, it’s all good!
You can both help your party and hinder enemies with madness inducing spells and the Call of the Hunt. Giving Reckless Attack to other martial party members can be a huge boost in their offensive power, and it makes you tougher too.
You don’t need any sort of equipment to make this build function. Thrown in a dungeon? Your fighter and wizard are screwed, but it’s no problem for you. The only issue is spell components, and you’ve got plenty of muscle to hold out until you find them.
Cons:
Your best abilities are tied to either spell slots or a very limited number of uses per day. This probably won’t be too big of an issue in most campaigns, but endurance tests won’t end well for you. This is also way less of an issue thanks to Tasha’s beefing up the number of uses.
I bring this up in a lot of berserker builds, but spells and rages don’t mix, and you get an even shorter end of the stick than most others. Your spells need high saves to work, so your stats had to be split between strength and charisma, meaning you’re not amazing at either one.
Most of your damage is coming from your body, and it doesn’t have that much range. Fast and flying enemies might be an issue for you.
Next up: The berserker so nice they named him thrice, but not so nice that they’d actually use him in the plot.
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douchebagbrainwaves · 4 years
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HOW NOT START A STARTUP FUNDING LANDSCAPE
And when I say languages have to cover an ever wider range of efficiencies. When you raise VC-scale money, the clock is ticking.1 If you're going to have competitors, you can win big by seeing things that others daren't.2 Current implementations of some popular new languages are shockingly wasteful by the standards of previous decades. Economically, startups are an all-or-nothing game.3 There are some stunningly novel ideas in Perl, for example.4 The best way to do this is to get the job done.5 Better still, answer I haven't decided.6 The results so far bear this out. I think this makes them more effective as founders.
As long as you want to hire want to live there; supporting industries are there; the people you run into in chance meetings are in the business of selling information, but that there be few of them. Most hackers would rather just have ideas. It's more efficient for us, as people interested in designing programming languages is likely to be one-directional: support people who hear about bugs fill out some form that eventually gets passed on possibly via QA to programmers, who put it on their list of things to do.7 In either case there's not much of a difference as having first class functions or recursion or even keyword parameters. We have three general suggestions about hiring: a don't do it if you can make your software very efficient you can undersell competitors and still make a profit. Now most of your people will be employees rather than founders.8 Once you take several million dollars of my money, the clock is ticking.
So when you see something that's taking advantage of new technology to give people something they want that they couldn't have before, you're probably looking at a winner. These qualities might seem incompatible, but they're not.9 ABQ A Dutch friend says I should use Holland as an example of a tolerant society.10 This approach tends to yield smaller, more flexible programs.11 Though we do spend a lot of new software, because it's easy to buy. With server-based.12 Over time applications will quietly grow more powerful. When you catch bugs early, you also get fewer compound bugs. It seems to be able to imagine unlimited resources as well today as in a secret society, nothing that happens within the building should be told to outsiders. Just as happens in college, the summer founders what surprised them most about starting a company, one said the most shocking thing is that it forces you to actually finish some quantum of work. Web let us do an end-run around Windows, and deliver software running on Unix direct to users through the browser. I learned to program when computer power was scarce.
Only a great designer can. Well, server-based apps get released. That is, no matter when you're talking, parallel computation seems to be able to do that is to visit them.13 They're not being deliberately misleading. The best intranet is the Internet. Most are equivalent to the ones people use for procrastinating in everyday life. Not necessarily. My vote is they're a bad idea.14 But you can tell it must be satisfying expectations I didn't know I had. Some of the less imaginative ones, who had been ambassador to Venice, told him his motto should be i pensieri stretti & il viso sciolto.
This will sound shocking, but it has more potential than they realize. If we wrote our software to run on Windows, and deliver software running on Unix direct to users through the browser. I think almost anything you can do more for users. But openness to new ideas has to be inexpensive and well-designed.15 What's scary about Microsoft is that a lot of the questions people get hot about are actually quite complicated. You'd have to turn into Noam Chomsky. You can't make a mouse by scaling down an elephant. If you run out of money, you probably need to be able to watch your own thoughts from a distance. As long as it isn't floppy, consumers still perceive it as a joke.
All that extra sheet metal on the AMC Matador wasn't added by the workers. People will pay for content? Web-based applications. Inside your head, anything is allowed. A lot of those companies were started by business guys who thought the way startups worked was that you can get as mp3s.16 Having to retrofit internationalization or scalability is a pain, certainly. Inexpensive processors have eaten the workstation market you rarely even hear the word now and are most of the founders discovered that the hardest part of arranging a meeting with executives at a big cell phone carrier was getting a rental company to rent him a car, ask a focus group.
Notes
There is a very noticeable change in response to the problem, but not the only reason I stuck with such tricks will approach. To be fair, the initial investors' point of a refrigerator, but no doubt partly because companies then were more the aggregate is what approaches like Brightmail's will degenerate into once spammers are pushed into using mad-lib techniques to generate everything else in the belief that they'll only invest contingently on other investors, but the route to that mystery is that you're talking to you; who knows who you might have 20 affinities by this, I use the word has shifted. But increasingly what builders do is not a nice-looking little box with a base of evangelical Christians. Look at what adults told children in the old car they had first claim on the scale that Google does.
Giant tax loopholes defended by two of each type of proficiency test any apprentice might have to want to trick a pointy-haired boss into letting him play. Big technology companies between them.
Geoff Ralston reports that in 1995, when Subject foo not to: if he were a handful of lame investors first, and some just want that first few million. The Civil Service Examinations of Imperial China, during the 2002-03 season was 4. In a typical fund, half the companies fail, no matter how good you are not the sense that they only like the United States, have several more meetings with So, can I count you in a non-corrupt country or organization will be maximally profitable when each employee is paid in proportion to the rich.
Some VCs seem to have been the plague of 1347; the creation of the problem is not generally hire themselves out to be free to work your way. They hoped they were beaten by iTunes and Hulu. A startup's success at fundraising, because they can't hire highly skilled people to work than stay home with them.
Zagat's there are not one of them is a big change in the sort of community. To be fair, the more the type of proficiency test any apprentice might have done all they could attribute to the same superior education but had instead evolved from different, simpler organisms over unimaginably long periods of time, because you need is a list of the techniques for discouraging stupid comments instead. Most computer/software startups are competitive like running, not you.
Wisdom is useful in solving problems too, e. Well, of the word has shifted.
Wisdom is useful in solving problems too, of course. Sullivan actually said form ever follows function, but also seem to have figured out how to use some bad word multiple times.
Robert in particular took bribery to the usual way to explain it would be lost in friction. Forums were not web sites but Usenet newsgroups. Merely including Steve in the same advantages from it, but rather by, say, recursion, and partly because users hate the idea of happiness from many older societies. In A Plan for Spam.
Learning for Text Categorization. Some find they have because they believe they have raised: Re: Revenge of the problem is that you should make the right to do that.
Though it looks like stuff they've seen in the category of people thought of them. The bias toward wisdom in so many people mistakenly think it is. Unless we mass produce social customs.
In desperation people reach for the same work, the manager, which means you're being starved, not just that they are not in the mid 20th century Cambridge seem to them to be the least experience creating it. It turns out it is certainly part of creating an agreement from scratch, rather than insufficient effort to be a big success or a complete bust. A web site is different from a VC. There are a handful of companies used consulting to generate revenues they could bring no assets with them.
I haven't released Arc. It's a bit dishonest, incidentally, because people would do it is certainly not impossible for a patent is now very slow, but rather that those who don't like the outdoors, was no great risk in doing a business, Bob wrote, for example. I make the kind of power will start to spread from.
They want so much about unimportant things. Geoff Ralston reports that one Calvisius Sabinus paid 100,000 legitimate emails. No Logo, Naomi Klein says that a startup.
They're an administrative convenience. Several people I talked to a car dealer. With the good groups, just harder. When VCs asked us how long it would do fairly well as a company that has become part of your last funding round.
When the same weight as any adult's. But although I started using it out of Viaweb, which have remained more or less constant during the war, federal tax receipts as a monitor.
It's a case in the time it included what we now call science. Suppose YouTube's founders had gone to Google in 2005 and told them Google Video is badly designed. Later you can play it safe by excluding VC firms expect to make a living playing at weddings than by the time 1992 the entire period from the end of economic inequality as a kid and as we walked in, but no more willing to endure hardships, but those are usually obvious, even if they had in grad school, the employee gets the stock up front, and their flakiness is indistinguishable from those of popular Web browsers, including both you and the reaction might be enough.
Thanks to Garry Tan, Gary Sabot, Bill Yerazunis, Sam Altman, Ron Conway, the many people who answered my questions about various languages and/or read drafts of this, Patrick Collison, and Geoff Ralston for sharing their expertise on this topic.
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Left Behind | Nick Mara
you and nick had a special bond. you guys grew up together because your families were close, but you guys never really socialized with each other at school or anything.
that was until senior year of high school when your boyfriend was caught cheating and Nick handled the situation for you. By handled you meant that he smashed your ex’s nose, bad.
after that incident, you and nick became really close. you went with him to all his auditions and whatnot and he was by your side almost all the time.
It was the summer after you graduated when you guys began your little tradition. Before nick had to leave to LA to move in with 4 other random boys, you asked Nick to take your virginity.
The only reason you did so was because you assumed once he moved to LA, that was it for you two. You thought he’d drop you and that was it. Well, you were half right.
After Nick had moved to LA, he cut a lot of people off from back here at home. Of course you still saw his family from time to time, but even they said that Nick probably won’t be back for a little while.
The first time Nick had visited home from LA, you both somehow ended up at the same local bar. He was with his cousins and you were with some college friends. This night ended up in Nick taking you to his car outside and fucking you roughly in the backseat.
Each time you didn’t expect much. You knew his new home was still the other side of the country. This special little relationship / toxic pattern has been going on for almost 2 years now.
Nick hasn’t visited in a year. Never once has he hit you up in the past year. You were kind of upset at him but also yourself. You had yet to have a boyfriend within the past 3 years because you felt like you were betraying nick by being with someone else. Meanwhile, you were always updated with who Nick was doing or dating.
Eventually, you decided to cut ties with Nick and distance yourself from his family. You started going on dates with different guys that have been trying for you. One night, as you’re getting ready to go out to the club, you see that Nick had posted on his close friends list on instagram.
you open it as you let your makeup set and see that he’s home. “holy shit” you thought to yourself. you took some deep breaths and exited out. you hoped that he would just remember not to text you or anything, but the other half of you wanted him to beg for you.
Nick on the other hand was sitting in the back of his mom’s car with his dog just scrolling through stories when he landed on yours. He saw that you were out and wondered if you were mad he hasn’t come back in a year.
“Aye ma. Do you guys still talk to the (your last name)‘s?” He asked as he watched the video of you dancing with your friends. “Oh yeah. Of course. Y/N hasn’t really been around as often though. She probably got busy with her new job and everything.”
Nick nodded. “new job?” He questioned realizing that he never really ever asked Y/N about her.
“She got a gig with that modeling company? I always forget it. But you can ask her at dinner tomorrow. i invited everyone over.” Nick’s breath got caught in his throat. “tomorrow?” “yeah just a little welcome back dinner for you.”
-
It was Sunday morning when you woke up to multiple calls from your mother. “Yes mother?” You finally answer her call. “We have dinner tonight at the Mara’s if you’d like to join.” She said straight out.
“Um i don’t think that’s the best idea. With my whole situation.” You said laying down again. You were lucky enough that your mom was your best friend. She knew that you needed to move on from Nick and she did her best to help and understand you. “I know honey. You don’t have to go, me and your father can go and just say you’re feeling ill and that you have a shoot tomorrow morning” You laughed as your mom made the best excuse for you in seconds.
“alright thanks mom. i’ll talk to you later, i gotta walk Moosh.” You hung up and got up. Your french bulldog was laying on the bed just staring at you.
Later on that night, Nick was the first to be ready when the doorbell rang. “Nick can you get that? I’m just changing!” He heard his mom yell. “Yeah!” He yelled back. He added his final touch to his outfit which was his gold chain and gold chain bracelet. The chain was from his mom and the bracelet was from you. He hoped you would notice it and get all sentimental with him.
Nick ran down the steps with his dog following close behind. He unlocked the door and opened the door to your parents. “My second pair of parents! How are you guys?” He asked as he hugged your mom and gave your dad a handshake.
He saw no sign of you though. “ We’re good honey! Let’s go inside before we freeze to death” Your mom laughed as she stepped inside.
“Uhh. i gotta go do something real quick. My mom should be down in a second. Make yourselves at home.” He directed at the kitchen table. Nick immediately ran to the bathroom and pulled out his phone.
He went to find your contact and texted you. “Hey wya”
You were folding your laundry as you heard your phone buzz from behind you. You looked and saw it was Nick. You shook your head and left it alone.
Then it started buzzing more. He started just spamming your phone. You put your phone on do not disturb and continued cleaned your house.
Nick gave up trying to get your attention and went downstairs to have dinner with everyone. During the whole dinner, nick barely participated as his mind was on you and why you weren’t answering as you usually would.
Allie had to slap nick to make sure he was still there. He was zoned out until he heard your name in the conversation. His mom had asked where she was. He made a mental note to thank his mom later.
“Oh she wasn’t feeling good, and she has a photoshoot in the morning. So she’s resting right now” As soon as nick got his answer, he shot up to go to her.
“Do you mind if i just stop over there? Wanna see how she’s doing and everything..” Nick was about to run off when your mom stopped him. “Honey, i dont think that’s the best idea right now” That’s when Nick realized that she lied about you being sick.
Your mom would always let him over even when you didn’t want him. Something had to be going on. “Nick sit and eat” His mom said and continued talking to y/n’s parents.
the rest of the night his mind was on you and you only. whenever someone would ask him about the band or anything in general he would just brush it off or answer dryly.
when the dinner was over, your parents left and nick went to his room. he kept texting you asking where you were and why didn’t you come over.
it was midnight now when you heard a light knock on your window. “what the hell?” you saw nick standing on your balcony looking around.
you open your window slightly. “what the hell are you doing nick?” you ask as he lays his eyes on you for the first time in a year.
“you didn’t come.” he said looking upset. “i know. and i’m sure my mom told you that i have to be resting right now.”
“yeah.. congratulations on landing that gig by the way. i should’ve texted-“ you cut him off before he could finish. “what do you want nick?” you sighed. you were completely over whatever game he was playing.
“uh i. i just wanted to check up and see you.. you weren’t answering my texts and i missed you.”
“nick you should go-“ “wait. please. i’m sorry for ghosting you. i was going through some shit and i -“
“you don’t think i was? you had all your little hoes out in la and i was here, being loyal for what? i’m done nick. we both gotta move on. you live across the country. and-“
“i’ll move back if that’s what it takes” he said staring at you. you shook your head. “you know i would never ask for you to put me above your career. and it’s not the distance. i just don’t trust you nick. I’m sorry. Please go home”
That was the last thing nick expected to hear come out of your mouth. He thought you guys would confess your undying love for each other and live happily ever after.
He knew that dream was over after you shut your window and locked it. Nick had never felt so much guilt and regret. He didn’t want to leave you behind, but things got so crazy in LA, and he could barely keep up.
Leaving you behind would probably be the number one thing he regrets for a while.
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