#they work at the resorts and get international credit for school

[gravitywonagain]

House Party

(a Fresh Powder in the Pine Trees story)

.

The house is very easy to spot. The building itself doesn’t stand out in any way on this street full of giant, expensive interpretations of log-cabin-chic. Upper Biling is full of this style of architecture. No, it’s the cars in front of it, in both sheer number and apparent condition. Almost none of them were made in the last decade. Almost all of them are plastered with bumper stickers (Wei Ying’s favorite is the white silhouette of a snowboarder on a chairlift that says “Do you even lift?”). 

The music is loud enough that the beat can be heard from the driveway, but not loud enough for lyrics. The combined smell of weed and beer filters through the pine trees from, presumably, the back patio, along with wood smoke and happy voices. 

Wei Ying and Lan Zhan walk up the stairs to the front door and scrape their feet off on the snow grate to the right of the welcome mat before entering. 

It had been surprisingly easy to convince Lan Zhan to come to the Peruvians’ house party once they’d invited him. He hadn’t previously understood that the invitation was open to pretty much all of the employees at Cloud Recesses, including all levels of management. Once Wei Ying told Diego to ask Lan Zhan in person if he was coming (“make it casual as fuck,” he’d said and Diego had nodded along and delivered spectacularly with a “hey, Boss, you like any particular flavor of fizzy waters? I’m stocking up for the party on Tuesday”), Lan Zhan had a very hard time saying no. 

Stepping inside, Wei Ying immediately realizes it’s too loud in here for Lan Zhan. Realistically, it’s too loud for Wei Ying, too, but he’s used to it so he’d live with it for the warmth and the friends. Lan Zhan has no problems with the cold so they decide to keep their shoes on, wipe them off on the ratty, pink towel that’s been laid out like a mat for this purpose, and stay off the carpet on their way to the patio -- via the kitchen, of course. 

Wei Ying makes a point of saying hi to almost everybody they pass. Quick little greetings, nothing that will drag him into a conversation, but just enough to make his and Lan Zhan’s arrival known. 

He finds Ben and David in the kitchen. David points Lan Zhan to the fridge where he pulls out a can of carbonated water, just as Diego had mentioned (loquat flavored, because the man fucking follows through). Ben offers to make Wei Ying a mixed drink, but Wei Ying begs off.

“Nah. Nothing hard for me tonight,” he says. 

“Cool, man,” says Ben, entirely unbothered. “Beers are out back!”

The thing about winter parties in a ski town is you never run out of ice. 

As they walk out the sliding-glass door to the back patio, they see there is a berm built around one side of the fire pit area with many varied cans of beer sticking out of the snow. It’s super easy to build your own backyard refrigerator as you shovel over the course of the season. And it’s always fun to see what melts out of it when spring rolls around. 

It’s quieter out here, but still very much part of the party. There’s an Alexa speaker playing the same music as is playing inside and a handful of other people out here either to smoke or to escape the noise. They snag a couple of chairs by the beer wall and sit down next to Remy and Elizabeth. They’re both instructors in Juniors’ Club so Wei Ying pulls them into conversation easily, placing Lan Zhan between them and himself so he feels included. And he is included. The women ask him his opinions, they prompt stories from him. They don’t make him feel weird either for being there or for not being there before. It’s good. It’s easy. 

The fire is close enough that Wei Ying doesn’t even need to keep his hands in his pockets. He gestures when he talks and it only gets worse the more he drinks. The vanilla porter he’d grabbed when they first sat down is almost gone already and he contemplates his next drink. He’s just decided to see what the fuck Luponic Distortion tastes like when he hears his name. 

“Hey, Wei Ying,” it might be Nick from Rentals, “is that an 805 by your head?”

Wei Ying turns his head to survey the cans in the snow, finds the black and silver label he’s looking for, and tosses it easily into maybe-Nick’s waiting hands.

“Thanks, man!”

“You got it!”

Wei Ying turns to Lan Zhan and grins. “Usually I get tipped for that kind of service,” he says with a wink.

“Do you work at a bar?” asks Lan Zhan, head tilting slightly to one side. It’s an absurdly cute look on him. 

“Only sometimes. Yanli-jie lets me pick up a shift or two when I ask.”

“Why would you need to ask?”

“She’s not a mind-reader, Lan Zhan.”

Lan Zhan’s eyebrows are unimpressed.

Wei Ying cracks up at just how bitchy he looks. “Okay, sorry, sorry,” he says and then continues, “The resort pays me enough to cover food and rent and to pitch in for the car, but sometimes I want a little extra. So I pick up a shift at the Lotus Tavern and whatever I make in tips, plus some under-the-table hourly, I can spend on whatever I’d like.”

“What kinds of things?”

“Oh, you know what I like, Lan Zhan.”

He’s not sure if he’s matching the heat in Lan Zhan’s eyes or the other way around, but they lock eyes either way. It’s intense. 

Wei Ying is so into it. 

“Snowboards,” he says finally, still not looking away. 

“Mn.”

“Mhm.”

Remy clears her throat subtly. Wei Ying hears it but doesn’t realize it’s directed at him until she says something about her dogs and Wei Ying jolts out of whatever trance Lan Zhan had trapped him in. 

“Okay,” he says, “I need another beer.” He stands because suddenly he has all of this energy with nowhere to put it, but realizes that he does not, in fact, need another beer as he’s barely started in on this one, the can still heavy and full in his hand. He doesn’t let that stop his momentum. “Do you want another water or anything, Lan Zhan?”

“I’ll try a beer.”

“You --? You don’t have to. If you don’t want to drink, it’s fine.”

“Can you drive us back?”

“Uh... yeah. I’ll stop after this one,” he says, gesturing with the mostly-full can. 

“Then I would like to try a beer.”

“O-okay. Sure. Yeah. What do you want?”

“You’re the bartender. What do you think I’ll like?”

Wei Ying laughs off the flirtation in Lan Zhan’s voice because he is trying, okay? Lan Zhan is stepping outside his comfort zone, even more now, and Wei Ying needs to respect the boundaries that have been set. No matter how hard Lan Zhan wants to make him. It. It, not him. Obviously. Pull yourself together.

Lan Zhan’s lips curl in a tiny, almost-smug smile and Wei Ying knows he’s doing this on purpose. He hates it. He loves it. 

“Let’s start you with something a bit mellow. You’ve never had beer before, right?”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan confirms, “I tried baiju once, on my twenty-first. I don’t remember it.”

Wei Ying laughs and says, “Okay. Beer will be easier on you, I think.”

“Mn.”

Wei Ying selects a Fat Tire from the wall and wipes off the top of the can before he hands it to Lan Zhan. 

“Alright,” he says after the crack-hiss of the tab being opened, “this is an amber ale. It’s not too hoppy, but it’s not sweet either. It’s a pretty average beer. A good quality, average beer.”

Lan Zhan waits until Wei Ying is finished explaining before he lifts it to his mouth. 

He takes a sip -- a tiny sip -- and immediately scrunches up his nose at it. 

But he goes again. Another sip, slightly bigger this time. His nose wrinkles only slightly less. 

Wei Ying laughs, his smile stretching his cheeks. “You don’t have to like it, Lan Zhan,” he says. “I’ll finish it for you if you don’t want it.”

Something not unlike a pout begins to form between Lan Zhan’s lips and he holds out a finger, “Give me a moment.”

The faces don’t stop over the course of the next few sips, but they don’t seem to impede Lan Zhan’s determination so Wei Ying leaves him to it and drinks his own beer. 

He’s adorable, Wei Ying thinks as he watches Lan Zhan, so fucking cute. 

The alcohol works fast in him, it seems, as it’s not very long before Lan Zhan begins to slump in his chair. His eyelashes flutter as if trying to stay open. They fail. Wei Ying catches the beer can as it slips from Lan Zhan’s long, loose fingers. 

It’s a little bit insane, but Wei Ying thinks Lan Zhan might be asleep. 

He lifts the can of Fat Tire and shakes it gently in his hand: half of the beer is still left. Did Lan Zhan really just pass out after half a can of beer? Half a can of pretty tame beer? 

Lan Zhan’s lips are slightly parted and, as soon as they are free of the beer, his hands settle clasped together in his lap. The firelight dances across his sleep-slack face and Wei Ying can’t help but stare a little bit in wonder. 

He’s aware he should probably wake him. This cannot be what Lan Zhan expected from this night. Not that anybody has even really noticed, but it could be awkward, Wei Ying supposes, to have fallen asleep at a party surrounded by coworkers -- if Lan Zhan is still Lan Zhan and hasn’t realized that he’s One of Us yet. 

But just as Wei Ying makes the decision to stop staring and Do Something, Lan Zhan’s eyes blink open. 

He looks a little glassy. Wei Ying thinks that maybe he’s just groggy from the surprise nap he just took. But then Lan Zhan looks up at him and Wei Ying knows -- despite the composure he maintains as he rights himself in the chair, despite the perfectly stoic set to his face -- Wei Ying knows immediately that Lan Zhan is -- actually, really, in real life, somehow -- drunk. 

It’s in the subtle tilt of his body, leaning toward Wei Ying like he’s leaning into a turn. And then… and then he starts becoming… a little bit… clingy. 

It wouldn’t even be noticeable were it anyone but Lan Zhan. Just a few small touches: knees bumping together, elbows, shoulders. Lan Zhan’s full attention focused on Wei Ying. But it’s not obvious to anyone else, it seems, and it’s nice. Wei Ying is enjoying it, possibly a little more than he should. So he’s prepared to just let it ride for the time being. Let Lan Zhan be comfortable with himself for a moment. 

That is, until Shawn shows up. 

When Shawn walks out onto the patio, it’s clear to Wei Ying that he’s there with a purpose. Wei Ying can even hazard a guess to what that purpose is. He’s not surprised when Shawn spots him and nods before making a bee line for where he’s sitting with Lan Zhan. He is surprised, however, to see Lan Zhan not quite glaring at Shawn as he approaches. 

Shawn notices it too and makes a small, uncertain wave of his hand, like he’s trying to convince Lan Zhan that he comes in peace. When nothing changes, Shawn shrugs it off and squats on the other side of Wei Ying’s chair. 

Wei Ying knows what he’s going to ask, he knows why he’s getting so close to ask it. The hot chocolate machine in question is still a secret, after all. 

“It broke again?” he asks and Shawn nods. 

Shawn leans in closer, presumably to give details, and Wei Ying feels Lan Zhan’s hands close around his forearm and bicep. His head whips around so fast, he almost smacks his chin into Shawn’s cheek. Lan Zhan never initiates this kind of touch. It’s jarring and wonderful and so not the time. 

Wei Ying turns back to Shawn, schooling his face into a cool nonchalance and trying to block Lan Zhan from his view. He missed whatever details Shawn had given him, but he doubts that it really matters. 

“Yeah, man,” he says with an easy smile, “I can take a look on Monday.”

Shawn takes his cue and stands to leave. He says his thanks and grips Wei Ying’s shoulder before he goes. When he does, Wei Ying looks back to Lan Zhan and sees… well… 

Since their conversation on the chairlift, Wei Ying has noticed certain changes in Lan Zhan’s behavior. There’s been a playful undercurrent of flirtation. It’s subtle, a look from across the room or a murmured comment by the lockers. This is… not that. This is possessive. Pouty and jealous in a way that seems specifically designed to break Wei Ying into pieces. Hot and suggestive in a way that has Wei Ying’s pulse racing. 

Lan Zhan looks like he wants to crawl into Wei Ying’s lap, right now, in front of all these people. And, while Wei Ying would absolutely love that, Lan Zhan has very specifically said that he would not, so Wei Ying needs to… do something. As soon as he can get his brain back online. 

“Let’s,” says Wei Ying, giving himself a moment to think, “let’s go for a walk.”

He stands and Lan Zhan looks up at him with eyes like honey. He holds out his hand to help Lan Zhan to his feet and, though Lan Zhan takes it, the man stands with a fluidity and grace that can really only be called seductive. Wei Ying just hopes that he’s the only one to notice. Somehow he doubts that he is. 

He pulls Lan Zhan back inside and through the house back to the front door. He makes excuses as he goes but whether anyone actually buys them, he has no idea. He stops by the fridge to grab another fizzy water for Lan Zhan, waves his thanks to Diego, and gets himself and Lan Zhan back out onto the street. He’s fairly certain he manages to play off Lan Zhan’s drunken clinginess as drunken instability, but he’ll probably never know. He just hopes Nie Huaisang will help him out with that one. 

-

Wei Ying takes a deep breath as they step off the driveway. The night is cold away from the fire, but Lan Zhan is warm against his side. Their breath condenses into small clouds that waft away in the light breeze. 

They walk together down the twisting streets of Upper Biling, past houses that Wei Ying couldn’t even guess the price of, and through neighborhoods that lay almost empty for three-quarters of the year. Summer homes and winter homes to people who can afford five houses and put snow tires on their sportscars. 

While they walk, Wei Ying rambles. 

It’s easy to talk to Lan Zhan. He’s a good listener, a good friend. When he does choose to interject it’s always with something relevant and often with some new perspective that pushes Wei Ying out of his own spiral. 

Or, at least, he is when he’s sober. 

Drunk Lan Zhan still listens -- actively even, nodding and humming at appropriate intervals. But he also wanders off mid-sentence to try to climb his way to the top of a very icy snow berm. 

When Wei Ying directs him away from the potential death trap, Lan Zhan pouts again, harder. 

“Boring,” he says, and Wei Ying can’t help but laugh. 

“Oh, ‘boring,’ is it?”

Lan Zhan nods. 

Wei Ying laughs. “Is this what you secretly want to be like all the time?” he asks. “Clingy and flirty and cute?”

“I am not cute,” says Lan Zhan, sounding almost offended at the implication. 

“You are adorable.”

“No. No, I’m cold and ‘hostile.’” He says it like a quote. Like something he’s heard before. Wei Ying wants to find out who it was who said that and throw them off a mountain. 

Since that is not an option available to him, he jokes instead. “Ah, yes. So hostile, Lan Zhan.”

“People are afraid of me.” 

Which, annoyingly, is true, but, “People are idiots.”

“You’re not afraid of me?”

Wei Ying scoffs so hard he thinks he might hurt something. “I was a little afraid you were going to jump into my lap and claim me when Shawn was just trying to ask me for a favor.”

Lan Zhan looks at him and hums. It’s not dismissive or in any way negative. A smirk even starts curling in the corner of his lips. 

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” says Wei Ying. “You’re secretly possessive, too.”

“That’s not much of a secret.”

The intersection is one Wei Ying recognizes. If he’s honest, he’s maybe a little lost. But he is pretty sure that up this road is a park that he has walked to with Jiang Yanli, his sister, and Jin Ling, her son. Like eighty percent. Sixty-five. It’s fine. Lan Zhan follows him easily as he steers them toward it. 

“Oh no?”

“I’m rich. Doesn’t that automatically mean I’m possessive?”

“I think the only thing that automatically means is that you have money.”

“I don’t want it.”

“The money?”

“It’s my parents’ money. It’s still supposed to be theirs.” 

Dead parents are not a super fun topic of conversation at the best of times. At the drunk of times, the tone can get very sad very quickly, and that very much is not where Wei Ying wants this to go. Lan Zhan doesn’t need to get maudlin drunk, preferably ever. So Wei Ying deliberately brushes past that. 

“You’re twenty-six. Wouldn’t your trust fund have kicked in by now, anyway?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“Ah?”

There are swings in the park. The black rubber of them is dusted with snow, easy enough to brush off. They sit, turned toward each other still in a way that, once they start swaying a little, causes that awkward torsion in the swing. 

“It was my birthday last Sunday.”

Wei Ying’s mouth drops open. “Lan Zhan! Happy birthday! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What would you have done?”

“Whatever you wanted me to.”

“Hm… Whatever I wanted?”

Suggestive. But it’s not Wei Ying’s rules they’re following tonight. “Anything.”

Lan Zhan cocks his head to the side. “You wouldn’t have told everyone?” he asks. “Thrown a big party?”

“No,” Wei Ying laughs, “you’d hate that.”

“But I’m here, aren’t I?”

Oh. Oh no. 

Does Lan Zhan think that this is what Wei Ying wants from him? Did Lan Zhan agree to come just because he thought it would make Wei Ying happy? 

Oh fuck. 

Wei Ying stops swinging and grabs hold of the chain of Lan Zhan’s swing too, turning him, forcing their eyes to meet. 

“Lan Zhan,” he starts, “I’m not trying to change you. I just want you to see that you’re welcome here. That people like you. Not that you have to want this all the time. Just… that you can have it… when you want it.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes narrow with something that’s probably skepticism but might be genuine curiosity. He repeats Wei Ying’s words, “When I want it.”

Wei Ying nods hard and fast. And then, “Which you don’t have to! I just--” he takes his hand back and wraps it around his own swing chain. “You seemed so lonely.”

Silence settles between them. It’s not comfortable, but it’s not exactly uncomfortable, either. It just is. The kind of silence in which words are processed. Feelings are processed. Wei Ying doesn’t want to rush it, but there’s an emptiness to it that crawls under his skin. 

He pushes against the ground with one foot, swing creaking back into motion. 

“But I would never force this on you for your birthday!” He gestures vaguely in the direction he thinks the party might be. “That would be absurd.”

“Absurd?” Lan Zhan’s voice is warmer around this repetition. A genuine question, this time. 

“Yeah! Your birthday should be about you. Not anybody else. If all you wanted was to drink tea and read, then you should have that.” Wei Ying shakes his head, “I would just like to have bought you the tea.”

“What if I wanted you there?”

“Then I would be there.”

“What if I want you now?”

Wei Ying tenses. It’s not so much that Lan Zhan’s tone has shifted or his voice has changed. He still speaks with the same smooth baritone, the same stoic serenity, that he’s had all night. But it’s like the air around them charges with electricity. A chill shoots up Wei Ying’s neck. He drags his toe to slow his swing again. 

“Ah… haha. Now is a different story. You’re drunk now. After,” Wei Ying raises his eyebrows and shakes his head, still in disbelief, “half a beer...” Like that’s a thing that happens in real life. 

There’s a sound like a pine bough cracking under too much snow and then Lan Zhan is standing in front of him. His long fingers wrap around the chains on either side of Wei Ying’s head, arresting his momentum as he looms, beautiful and radiant in the soft light. His eyes are bright with intention. He’s so close, Wei Ying can feel the heat of him. 

“Ah… And because you’re drunk,” Wei Ying says very carefully, “I have to stick to guidelines as previously discussed.”

Lan Zhan doesn’t look convinced. He drops to his knees slowly, fingers dragging down the chains. The sight and sound send shivers down Wei Ying’s spine. Without asking, his thighs spread wide as Lan Zhan settles between them. The snow beneath Lan Zhan’s shins crunches and then starts to melt. 

He smiles and it’s devastating. “So you don’t want me to…”

Lan Zhan’s palms are hot on Wei Ying’s thighs, searing even through the thick denim of his jeans. Wei Ying bites his lip to keep from whining at the touch. They slide higher and higher until Wei Ying draws on all of his meager self-control and stills them. He takes a deep breath and screws his eyes shut against the stunning vision of Lan Zhan, wanton and willing, looking up at him from his knees. 

“Fuck, Lan Zhan,” he groans. “Don’t do this to me. Don’t make me the responsible one. I’m not good at it.”

He opens his eyes and that small, infuriating pout has returned to Lan Zhan’s face. Wei Ying has to take another breath before he can move. 

He grips Lan Zhan’s hands and brings them both to their feet. His arousal is obvious in his jeans and Lan Zhan definitely notices, but Wei Ying ignores it, ignores Lan Zhan’s raised eyebrow, ignores the way he licks his fucking lips. (The man is a menace, truly.) 

Wei Ying clears his throat against the lust threatening to choke him. He walks Lan Zhan back over to the other swing and gets him sitting down on the cold rubber again. He moves behind him so he doesn’t have to meet Lan Zhan’s eyes, wraps Lan Zhan’s hands around the chains, fingers lingering longer than strictly necessary, then starts pushing him. 

The motion is good, distracting. Something to do that doesn’t involve actively ignoring the heat in Lan Zhan’s gaze, the pout on his lips. If he holds Lan Zhan’s waist a little too tight, nobody else needs to know. 

When Wei Ying regains control of his body, he lets himself chuckle a little. “You’re probably not even going to remember this in the morning, are you?” he says, watching his breath condense. 

Lan Zhan just shrugs and hums a non-committal sound. 

Wei Ying rolls his eyes and says, “I bet you only had one shot at your twenty-first.”

The night is quiet except for the metallic scrape of the swing as Wei Ying pushes Lan Zhan in an easy rhythm. He tries not to think about other rhythmic activities and to focus, instead, on the cold air biting his cheeks and on keeping Lan Zhan upright on the little plastic seat. 

The cold is good. Sobering. Wei Ying breathes it into his lungs and lets it soothe him. There’s woodsmoke in the air, too, from somebody’s fireplace or backyard pit. 

He looks down at Lan Zhan who is listing to the side like he’s falling asleep. His jeans are wet-dark around the knees and down his shins and Wei Ying realizes that he needs to get Lan Zhan inside somewhere before he freezes or becomes too tired to walk. Wei Ying is strong, but he’s not sure he can carry a passed out Lan Zhan up Northwoods Blvd. Or down Northwoods, to be honest. 

Wei Ying still doesn’t remember how to get back to the Peruvians’ house from here, but he does recognize this park as the one he’s visited with his sister and nephew. Jiang Yanli’s house is actually fairly close and Wei Ying is pretty sure he knows the way. 

Lan Zhan is pliant and amenable when Wei Ying asks him to stand. He’s still listing to the side so Wei Ying gets an arm around his waist and tries to think about anything but the press of Lan Zhan’s body against his own. It turns out to be easier than he thought because the worry takes over. Lan Zhan is cold. He’s leaning hard into Wei Ying’s side and even if he is playing it up a little -- as Wei Ying suspects he might be -- he still needs to get to a bed soon. 

It’s only about four blocks to Jiang Yanli’s house from the little park. Wei Ying sees her mailbox sooner than he expects and points it out to Lan Zhan. Wei Ying and Jin Ling painted the little silver and gold stars on it together. 

Lan Zhan smiles at them and Wei Ying’s knees buckle, which is sweet, but they’re about to climb the driveway and Lan Zhan still requires support so Wei Ying really has to pull himself together. 

Jiang Yanli’s house is huge. Wei Ying always kind of forgets until he’s standing in front of it, but it’s an obscenely large house. The driveway climbs almost fifty vertical feet from the street and the house rises two stories from there. Hidden from street view, the back of the house drops another two stories down the side of the mountain with a wooden deck that gets near-panoramic views of the valley. Floor to ceiling windows in the living room. High, vaulted ceilings. All pine and granite. A fucking elevator. 

It’s way too big for a single family but Jiang Yanli married Jin Zixuan, scion of the Gold Peony Resort Jins. A family that owns hotels and golf courses in three countries. Jin Zixuan, himself, owns the Lanling Golf Course in Caiyi Town. 

Bad enough he’s a golfer, but Jin Zixuan was a real jerk to Jiang Yanli when they were teenagers and Wei Ying has never forgiven him for it. He can admit, however, that he’s treated her well since he managed to get his shit together and ask her out properly. They’ve been married for more than five years now. It’s fine. 

He texts Jiang Yanli instead of ringing the doorbell because children have bedtimes, Wei Ying, and it’s like 11pm and that seems awfully late for a four-year-old to be awake. Lan Zhan curls closer into Wei Ying’s arms as they stand in front of the door and wait. 

Jiang Yanli doesn’t text back but Wei Ying can hear movement inside the house and sees a light turn on inside before the porch light attempts to blind him, and she opens the door in her slippers, a pair of sweats, and what Wei Ying assumes is Jin Zixuan’s high school mascot t-shirt. (A wolverine, he thinks.) 

“A’Ying?”

Her voice is thick with sleep and guilt churns his stomach until he remembers that he’s not really here for himself. 

“I’m so sorry, Yanli-jie,” says Wei Ying, “I know it’s late, I just didn’t know where else to go and hypothermia was becoming a concern.”

Jiang Yanli’s eyes go wide and she takes in the man who may or may not be asleep on his feet in Wei Ying’s arms. “Is he okay?”

“Oh, he’s fine!” Wei Ying says, quick to reassure her but still trying to keep his voice down. “He’s fine. Just drunk. And a massive lightweight. Seriously, I’m never going to let him live this down.”

It’s then that Jin Zixuan pokes his head around his wife’s shoulder, eyes squinting against the (really, incredibly bright) porch light.

“Lan Zhan?” he asks, recognition and concern screwing up his face. 

“Okay…” says Wei Ying, looking to his sister. “Why does your husband know my boss?”

Jin Zixuan, not as useless as one might be tempted to think, steps out and gets his arm around the other side of Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan wakes up at the new contact but seems to recognize him and allows this so, together, the three of them start moving toward the guest bedroom, following Jiang Yanli down the stairs. 

“We were rich kids on the high school downhill team together,” says Jin Zixuan, and Wei Ying struggles not to laugh.

“See,” he says, “that’s the kind of thing I would have guessed, but I would have done it in a mocking way. You just said that with so much aplomb that I can’t even make fun of you for it now.”

“Oh great, he’s using words like ‘aplomb.’”

Wei Ying can’t actually see Jin Zixuan in their current configuration, but he knows an eye roll when he hears one. 

“Shut up, I’m more literate than you are, Business Degree.”

“A’Ying,” Jiang Yanli chides from below them. 

“Sorry, Jie.”

They settle Lan Zhan on the guest bed which, because Jiang Yanli is a real adult, is a real bed with a real comforter and far too many useless pillows. Wei Ying kneels to take off Lan Zhan’s shoes which, along with his own, have tracked road dirt and snow all through Jiang Yanli’s beautiful house. Lan Zhan is no help in this, but he does, to Wei Ying’s great relief, agree to take off his own pants. 

Wei Ying gets him tucked under the covers and Lan Zhan falls asleep almost immediately. 

Wei Ying sets a glass of water on the nightstand. He fishes Lan Zhan’s phone out of his jeans and sets it next to the glass along with a pair of ibuprofen tablets. He has no idea if Lan Zhan gets hangovers or not -- if someone can even get a hangover from half a beer -- but better to be prepared. 

Wei Ying takes off his own shoes and carries them with him as he goes to meet his sister and her husband out in the kitchen. He sets them by the door, next to Lan Zhan’s. He tries not to think about his and Lan Zhan’s shoes together in his sister’s shoe rack, like they’re dinner guests or visiting on purpose rather than too drunk and too lost to find their way back to the car. 

In the kitchen, Jiang Yanli has a kettle on the stove already and is plating what looks like rice cooker bread, because she is a literal angel. Jin Zixuan is sitting at the counter helping her sort through their many teas. Wei Ying does have to admit that he is a very good husband. Golf course or not. 

“Oh no,” says Wei Ying, eyes widening with a startling realization as he sits on the counter next to his sister and looks imploringly at Jin Zixuan, “please don’t tell me he golfs. I like him too much to stop now.” 

It’s a joke (mostly) that Wei Ying hates golf. And golfers. Environmental concerns aside (which they really shouldn’t be), it’s a mind-numbingly boring sport. Wei Ying loves to poke at Jin Zixuan with this particular stick whenever it comes up.

Jin Zixuan huffs. “Why would--? Nevermind. He does not golf. You’re safe.”

“Oh, thank god,” says Wei Ying with an exaggerated sigh. He turns to cover up the even more startling realization that he would probably still like Lan Zhan even if he did… occasionally golf. Wei Ying elects to keep that to himself.

The bread melts in his mouth. It’s so delicious that his eyes actually close on their own. She’s a goddess, his sister. 

Even though it’s clear that Wei Ying pulled them out of bed, both Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan stay up with him for a little while as he finishes the bread that keeps appearing on his plate and the water that keeps refilling itself in his glass. 

“I’m fine, Yanli-jie. I only had two beers. It’s Lan Zhan I’m worried about.” 

Which, unfortunately, prompts a conversation about why he and his boss were wandering around Upper Biling together while drunk -- “Not drunk!” -- and courting hypothermia. 

Wei Ying is not subtle in his diversion as he directs the line of questioning away from how he feels about Lan Zhan. How Lan Zhan feels about him. It’s not-- It’s not the time for that talk. Not now. Not when Jiang Yanli is stifling yawns behind her hand and Jin Zixuan is still right there for some reason. 

If they were friends, though, Wei Ying does have a question for him. 

“Were you at his twenty-first?”

Jin Zixuan nods, looking uncomfortable at where this might be going, but still answers, “I was.”

“It was only one shot, wasn’t it?”

There’s a pause, and then Jin Zixuan sighs and nods again, “It was.”

[tangerinesgirl]

Kinktober 2024 - October 6th

A/B/O Heats or Ruts // Sadism-Masochism // Anonymous Sex

Herr König x Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+, explicit

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, omegaverse, breeding kink, voyeurism, threesome, monster fucking

Notes: So, this one was interesting as 1) I've never written omegaverse before and 2) figuring out the dynamics in the Cuckoo universe. Basically König is a beta, Reader an omega and the Cuckoo's are alphas.

I don't go into a lot of detail about the world, character decisions, or a lot of the backstories as I would be here all day. So I'm hoping everything makes sense and stands alone here, and is open to interpretation.

Kinktober List || Masterlist || AO3

The reception bell has a very satisfying old school ding. You look around and admire the resort, you imagine a lot of people would think it's dated, but it felt nostalgic to you. You can't help but think Shining though, but luckily it's the middle of summer and there's no evil twins (yet).

You turn back around and a man is suddenly behind the desk, without a sound. You jump, "Oh Jesus".

The man smirks, "Ah not quite my dear. Welcome to the Resort Alpshatten. My name is Herr König, how can I be of assistance?".

König has a very heavy German accent, it takes you a while to process what he's saying. He's about in his 40s, well groomed with stubble and a slight moustache, and the most piercing blue eyes you've ever seen. You almost get lost in them before you remember.

"I would like a room for two nights please".

"Ahh I see, you are omega, no?"

You nod, "Yeah... I uh heard you have special facilities here? I want to make sure this time is comfortable".

"Of course, we have whatever you so desire. I just need a quick signature from you and your ID or credit card."

You hand him your licence and start signing and dating the paperwork, at a glance it seems like any other hotel agreement, don't trash the room, etc.

König returns your licence and unhooks a key from the wall.

"Let me show you to your room".

He reaches down to grab your suitcase. You noticed he's a beta as you catch his scent.

You both walk together to a little secluded cabin.

"This is a very special room for a very special guest. We call it The Lovers Nest".

Internally, you cringe at the name. Even if this is a free upgrade, the facilities seem basic to you, cheap and cheerful. You nod as you take in your surroundings, "This is great".

"I will leave you to get settled in. Let me know if there's anything you need...any time."

---

The start of your heat hits you like a wall through the night. You were hoping this villa away from civilisation would help see through your heats. You were too tired of seeing them through on your own. But you trust König. The hotel had great reviews and has been going for years. You try to distract yourself with the television, having a bath, pleasuring yourself, but nothing seems to be working.

You wonder what else the hotel may have, so you ring reception. A familiar voice picks up the phone, "Alpshatten Reception, König speaking".

You breathe heavily down the line, "Can I get... uh... something, for my room?"

"Say no more, I shall be right over my darling", König hangs up the phone.

---

You throw on some clothes to look somewhat put together. About ten minutes later there's a knock at your door. It's König. He looks at you and notices your clothes dripping with sweat, "Oh this will not do."

You motion for him to come in. Your pheromones are through the roof you're almost dizzy from it. You need relief, stat.

"König, I-"

He catches and places you on the bed noticing you nearly fainting.

"Say less, my dear", his gaze drifts down your body briefly, then back to your eyes, as he kisses you passionately.

He starts to take off your clothes, and you help him. He removes your underwear, slick seeping from your entrance.

"Looks like you really do need my help", König starts to undo his belt, his cock bounces free. He starts rubbing himself with your slick around your entrance, before inserting himself into you.

You wrap your legs around his waist as he starts to thrust inside you. Your hand drifts to your clit, searching for more, rubbing in the same rhythm as his thrusts. König nuzzles into your neck, he pauses a moment and looks at you. He's silently asking for permission to mark you. You pause a moment looking into his deep blue eyes. You've never heard of a beta doing this before, and it kind of excites you. Even though you've just met, you are extremely attracted to him, trusting him. In the heat of the moment, you hold the side of his face and nod.

You arch your back as you feel him bite your scent gland. His teeth dig into your neck while he continues thrusting into you. Your nails claw at his back, still searching for more friction. König licks your neck after claiming you, travelling down to your breasts, licking and nipping his way down your body. Bruises already start to form as he does so.

He picks up his pace, fucking you aggressively into the bed, before his hips start to stutter as he cums inside you. He groans as his seed fills you up, mixing with your slick...but it's not enough.

"König, I- I need more. I need an alpha."

He removes himself from you and nods. Walking over to his trousers, he sits down on a chair next to the bed, removing a wooden flute from the pocket. König begins to play it.

You squirm on the bed, body on fire, rubbing your hips against the bed sheets. Fucking König just made your heat worse.

Something stands at the doorway. The overwhelming alpha scent invades your nostrils as you exhale with relief. They're not like any other alpha you've seen, making a noise like a croaky bird when they see you.

They're on top of you in an instant, shoving their cock inside you, no hesitation. König watches from the sidelines, stroking his already fully erect cock, still coated in his cum and your slick.

You moan as you feel the alphas cock deep inside you, your heat already calming down from their smell and the friction. It doesn't take you or the alpha long to cum. You can feel the alpha's cock stretch you out as they start to knot you. Their cum mixes with the already existing fluids. Your body twitches as you reach your climax, feeling the seed hit against your cervix, filling you up perfectly.

König watches the spectacle, rubbing his cock in his hand. He stands up and walks over to you, lifting your hand to replace his. You stroke him a few times before you adjust your position to be more comfortable.

You roll over so the alpha is on the bed, and you're straddling on top of them, their knot still deep inside you. König can even see it from his angle, the sight making his cock grow harder.

You move over to the edge of the bed and take König's cock down your throat. He starts thrusting inside you, grabbing the back of your head to steady himself. His hands then trail down to where the knot is inside you. He presses down on it, feeling it pulsing seed into you. The sensation sends him over the edge as he cums down your throat. His eyes roll into the back of his head from pleasure as you rub his balls, milking him for all the seed he has. You moan against his dick, feeling the seed drip down you, some leaking out of your mouth, towards your neck and breasts.

You feel warm and satisfied, as your cunt clenches from the knot, when you cum again, moaning loudly. You look towards König who is transfixed on you, watching as you grind your hips down onto the alpha. They release another load of cum deep inside you. Slick seeping out of your entrance.

You have a feeling the three of you will be here for a long time.

[laurentrvls]

My Curse

I really can't exactly pinpoint when I was cursed. I just knew something wasn't right when I lost my phone for the third time while working at Disney World as an intern for nine months. 

It was 2011 and I had finished my first semester of college the December before. During the summer between my Senior year in High School and my first semester at CCRI my sister asked if I had ever heard of the Disney College Program (or DCP). Since I was a theatre major I thought it was a dream come true to work for one of the biggest names in entertainment. I applied that night with my sisters help, had my phone interview and waited by the mailbox everyday for an acceptance letter. I told them I would like to work on rides, be a Jungle Cruise Skipper or one of the actors on The Great Movie Ride (RIP). But honestly I was happy with anything not food service related. I got "Merchentainer" or basically a cashier that worked in a giftshop. Once I got that role then I just hoped I wouldn't be stuck at a resort store all day. Luckily I was placed in Epcot surrounded by everyone from the Disney International College Program (as a wannabe traveler this was a DREAM).

Anyways, after making a few friends we would start going to the parks on our days off. I had just gotten home from The Magic Kingdom and couldn't find my phone. Luckily I had my laptop and emailed my family just for my mom to tell me that someone had called her saying that the phone was in lost and found. Next day I went to L&F and sure enough they had it! This happened 3 more times. One time it was missing for four days so my mom told me to use the insurance she got on the phone to get a new one. The day the replacement phone was delivered to my  apartment someone from the laundry room (where all the uniforms were washed) contacted my boss and said my phone was found in one of my pockets.

I remember as a child going to Pennsylvania to visit Hershey Park or Sesame Street Water Park my dad had this habit of checking everything before we left the hotel room. Even if we never unpacked from our suitcase. Even under the beds where most hotels block it so you can only slide your hand three inches underneath my dad would pick up the comforter on all sides and check. I have never asked him if he's the one that cursed me but now I'm thinking he may have something to do with it.

Since my time working for the mouse I have consistently left something behind or forgotten it at home before the trip even starts. Before my last trip to Greece my sister said something that I repeat to anyone nervous about travelling.

"As long as you have your Passport and a Credit Card, the rest you can figure out"

After our trip to Greece she said "that quote was not a challenge you know, right?"  

[nehagargredkite]

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[pineapple-hoseok]

Happy Birthday!

Pairing: Yoongi x f!reader

Genre: A whole lot of fluff, soft Yoongi, 13+

Warnings: Some cuss words and Yoongi being a lovesick puppy

Word Count: 3.7k (wow that’s the longest one shot I’ve ever written)

Summary: It’s your birthday and Yoongi doesn’t know what to get you. He has a huge crush on you and he wants everything to be perfect.

---

Your birthday was tomorrow. You knew it, your best friend knew, the boys knew it, Yoongi knew it. How could Yoongi forget one of the most important days of the year? Well, it wasn’t as important as everyone was hyping it up to be, but it was for Yoongi. Especially because he had the biggest crush on you since Jimin introduced you to him and the others over a year ago. And he was going to use this day to finally tell you how he felt, using the advice Jimin gave him.

The only problem was, he didn’t know what gift to get you. You were supposed to be meeting up at their dorm tomorrow afternoon so they could celebrate with you and Minah, one out of two of your best friends, and he still had no idea what to buy.

Even as he stood in the middle of the shopping mall about a mile from the dorm, he was clueless and running out of time. So he did what he thought of as a last resort and dialed a number.

The boy on the other line answered with a tired ‘Hello?’, making it clear to Yoongi that he had just woken up from a nap. “Jimin-ah, I need your help.”

“Are you trying to find a gift for Y/N but you have no idea what to get her so you’re calling me to see if I can give you an idea of what to buy since I’m her best friend and I know her better than she knows herself?” That left Yoongi speechless.

Jimin knew of the older boy’s crush on you, hell, all the boys did. Even Minah, who was also one of the densest people in all of Korea, knew. Everyone could tell by the way Yoongi’s mood would lift every time you walked into the room, his obvious attempts of getting closer to you on movie nights, spending hours in his studio showing you songs he’d been working on, even letting you hear him sing after he swore he didn’t have the ability to. And when you told him you loved his songs and his voice, he felt his heart do a backflip in his chest. But somehow, you didn’t notice.

“How the fuck did you know that?” Jimin rolled his eyes so hard, Yoongi could practically hear it.

“You’re so easy to read when it comes to her, hyung.” The Busan boy sighed, sitting up in his bed once he realized he wasn’t getting any more sleep. “You already know Y/N’s really into photography, and I just happen to know her camera just broke. She needs a new one.”

Yoongi’s eyes widened, wondering to himself how he didn’t think of that before. “Thanks Jiminie, I owe you.” Jimin mumbled a simple ‘hell yeah you do’ and hung up the phone, but not without reminding Yoongi how much he loved him. The older male externally gagged, but internally smiled.

He knew you would never accept a brand new camera from him, but he was going to force you to take it, since he knew how much photography meant to you. He couldn’t live with himself if he knew you couldn’t do the thing you loved, and that he had a way to help. So he walked into Best Buy and made a beeline to the camera section. He knew absolutely nothing about cameras, but he was lucky to have a worker show him the best one for taking 4K pictures. Yoongi thought you’d really like an upgrade from your previous camera, which was kinda crappy considering that you got it for cheap.

Oh yeah, Yoongi thought, Y/N is definitely going to kill me. The boy, who usually kept his feelings to himself, found himself smiling at the thought of what your reaction would be. You’d definitely give him the worst death glare you could muster up, but he knew you would be actually trying your hardest not to cry. So as he swiped his credit card in the card reader, his excitement to give you this gift only grew.

Yoongi sat at his desk later that night, ignoring the calls of all the boys and their questioning of the bag he had in his hands. He pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, getting to work on the second half of his gift for you.

Meanwhile, you were laying on Minah’s bed while staring up at the ceiling, your best friend sitting on her desk chair. You had no idea what she was doing, but you didn’t question it. Everyone seemed to be keeping something from you lately. First, Minah begged you to sleep over, then you caught her talking to Jimin on the phone about god knows what. Now, she was telling you that the two of you were going over to the boys’ dorm because she forgot her favorite sweater there.

You fished your phone out of your pocket and texted the only person you thought you could get information out of.

If Hoseok didn’t know anything, that means they probably kept him out of it. He was probably the worst liar you had ever met, he couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. But you dropped the subject as soon as Minah stood up from her desk chair. She gestured for you to move over so she could get in the bed too. Back in Busan, you, Minah, and Jimin had been sleeping in the same bed since you all were in diapers, so this wasn’t weird at all to either of you.

“Minah?” You spoke in a soft voice, causing the girl to turn to look at you.

“What’s up?”

You bit your lip, thinking for a second. “What if everyone forgot my birthday? The only person that has said anything about it was Hoseok.”

Minah had to keep herself from smiling. “I’m sure everyone remembers, there’s still a half hour until your actual birthday. Don’t worry, okay?”

You took her word for it, trying your best to calm your racing thoughts. For the next half hour, you and Minah talked about memories you both had from middle school, including the time the two of you drew all over Jimin’s face in middle school when he fell asleep in class. He was still holding a grudge against the two of you for that.

Before you knew it, the alarm clock on Minah’s bedside read twelve am.

Minah jumped up and wrapped her arms around you, screaming ‘happy birthday!’ so loudly in your ear that you were sure her neighbors heard her. You laughed, the girl’s strength knocking you down on the bed while you hugged her back.

“Thank you, now get off of me!” As soon as she did, your phone rang. It was your parents calling you from Busan to wish you a happy birthday. You thanked them, making sure to tell them that you were gonna visit soon before you hung up. Other than that, you had no more calls. Not even from the person you wanted to call you the most, Yoongi.

Everyone knew about your crush on Yoongi, the two of you were really bad at hiding your feelings. But apparently you weren’t, because neither you nor Yoongi knew how the other felt.

Every time you hung out with him and the boys, you always found yourself smiling more than usual whenever he talked to you. And the moments you two spent in his studio listening to a song he wanted to show you only made your stomach fill with butterflies. He seemed to get you more than anyone else did, not even Minah and Jimin. You also couldn’t forget how gentle he always was with you, despite what people have said about him having a cold exterior. Whenever you had a movie night with the boys, Yoongi would always end up sitting next to you, even sharing his blanket with you when you got cold. He’d scold you whenever he caught you speaking badly about yourself, telling you never to do that again. Whenever you were upset and needed comfort, he always let you call him no matter what time of night it was. You couldn’t help but fall for him, which is why you felt disappointed when you didn’t get a text or call from him at midnight.

Your lips turned down in a small frown, but Minah didn’t notice. Instead, she explained that the two of you should sleep so you could go to the boys’ dorm early in the afternoon. You turned onto your side, pulling the covers over your shoulder as you closed your eyes and let sleep take over you.

--

You woke up to the sound of a higher pitched male voice singing happy birthday. As your eyes opened, you noticed it was Jimin singing to you while holding a cupcake with a single candle in it, Minah smiling widely behind him. They gave you a second to sit up in Minah’s bed, a wide smile taking over your features. You closed your eyes, making a single wish before blowing out the candle on the cupcake Jimin was holding out for you. He set it on the nightstand, allowing you to jump into your best friend’s arms and thank him profusely. Jimin’s arms picked you up and lifted you off of the bed, spinning you around once before setting you down on the floor.

“Happy birthday, loser.” You laughed, reaching up to ruffle the boy’s hair.

“Yah, that’s noona to you.” You honestly didn’t care about honorifics, but you did it just to tease Jimin about your one year age difference like you always did. He rolled his eyes, pushing your hand away from him while you laughed even more.

“Now go brush your teeth and put on something nice after you shower, you stink.” Minah pushed you towards her bathroom, leaving you confused. If you guys were only going to the dorm to pick up her sweater, why did you need to wear something nice? At this point you learned not to question anything Minah said, so you just went along with it and started getting ready.

About an hour later, you were dressed in a black skirt and a matching black blouse that you found in Minah’s closet after you forgot your clothes at your house. All you did to your hair was brush it out and style it a little, but you liked the way the wavy style looked on you. Once you stepped out of the room, you found Jimin and Minah whispering about something, with Jimin briefly looking down at his phone.

After you cleared your throat to get their attention, they turned to look at you.

“Perfect, let’s go.” Jimin grabbed your hand and brought you over to the door, telling you to put on the black low top vans you came in before leading you and Minah to his car. Throughout the entire car ride to Bangtan’s apartment building, Minah kept bouncing excitedly in her seat. Jimin on the other hand, kept telling her to stop before he threw her out of his porsche.

Soon enough, the three of you arrived at the building, making your way up the familiar elevator before walking down the hall. You were about to put in the code to the front door before Jimin slid in front of you so he could do it himself. What a child.

He sent a quick text from his phone before putting in the door code. The lights were off inside the big apartment, and you wondered where the boys were. Were they all out and Jimin was the first one home? Dismissing the thought, you took your shoes off at the entrance and put on the slippers the boys got you a few months into your friendship with them. You were about to start looking for Minah’s sweater until all of a sudden, the lights turned on and six boys jumped up screaming.

“Surprise!” You would’ve fell on your ass if it wasn’t for Minah who caught you from behind, everyone laughing at your reaction. All around you were balloons and streamers in an array of colors, the entire living area of the dorm looking festive.

You started tearing up, your hand fanning your eyes as you looked around at the seven boys -- plus Minah -- that planned this surprise party for you.

“You guys did all of this for me?” They all nodded, all of them running over to hug you before you could burst into tears. You hugged all of them individually, each boy wishing you a happy birthday. Hoseok came up to you, wrapping his arms around you in a friendly hug. Aside from Jimin, Hoseok was the next boy you considered as one of your closest friends in Bangtan.

“I swear, Y/N, I didn’t know anything about this until an hour ago.” You laughed, hugging the boy tightly.

Next was Yoongi. He walked up to you with a smile on his face, holding his arms out for a hug. Your arms wrapped around his neck as his wrapped around your waist, your heart doing backflips and somersaults in your chest.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you to say happy birthday at midnight, they took my phone so I couldn’t contact you and ruin the surprise,” He spoke, his lips right next to your ear making his soft voice send shivers through your body. You hugged him for a second longer than the other boys before pulling back from the hug.

“It’s okay, I wasn’t worried.” That was a lie, but you decided that Yoongi didn’t need to know that.

The two of you walked over to the living room where the rest of the party was, your body immediately taking a seat next to Seokjin when he offered you one of the switch remotes to play Mario Kart with him.

That’s how the party went for the next few hours. A Mario Kart tournament between you and your eight friends took up a lot of the time, but you ended up beating everyone. You knew all of them had let you win, because there was no way you could beat Seokjin, Jungkook, AND Taehyung. But you didn’t mind, you got a crown made out of paper as your prize.

At last, it was gift opening time. Everyone sat on the living room floor, letting you use the couch as your throne as you opened each gift.

“I told you guys not to get me anything.” You whined, earning a bunch of comments from the peanut gallery to shut up and open your gifts.

So that’s what you did, starting with a gift from Jungkook. He got you the new pair of vans you’ve been wanting and were telling him about last week. Taehyung got you a gucci necktie to match his, Hoseok got you a pin that says ‘I <3 New Zealand’ from when they visited the year before (which you laughed at), Seokjin got you an Eevee plushie to match his, Namjoon got you a copy of the book he was reading which you asked him for a while ago, and Jimin got you a signed cd of his single ‘Promise’. After each of the boys gave you their gifts, you hugged each of them and made sure to tell them how much you really liked everything.

Then Yoongi gave you his. It was in a wrapped box and it felt heavy. You prayed that he didn’t get you something expensive, after you specifically told everyone not to buy you anything expensive. But you carefully opened it anyway, the wrapping paper revealing the box of a brand new Canon camera. A chorus of surprised sounds came from everyone, your eyes widening while looking down at the box. This camera was a huge upgrade from the shitty one you had before, which broke after some random guy bumped into you while you were taking pictures one day.

“Min Yoongi, I’m gonna kill you.” You mustered the best death glare you could give him. If looks could kill, the boy would be six feet under by now.

“Well I’m not taking it back, and there’s no refunds or returns so you have to accept it.” He wore a smug smile on his face that you wanted so badly to wipe off completely. You would definitely murder him in his sleep later.

You set the box down next to you and sighed in defeat, going over to hug him too.

“Thank you, it really means a lot to me.” Your voice was soft as you thanked him, and you could feel him smile against your cheek. You were about to go back to your seat when Yoongi stopped you.

“Actually, there’s something else I have for you,” He looked around at the curious eyes of everyone staring up at him, “in private.”

This set off another chorus of ‘woah’s from all of the boys, Minah only snickering in the corner. After telling them all to shut up, Yoongi stood and gestured for you to follow him to his room. You stood and followed closely behind him, ignoring the stares you felt on the back of your head.

Yoongi led you into his room and closed the door behind him so you two would have privacy. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, wondering why he brought you here.

“So I kinda wrote you a small note, and I didn’t want you to read it in front of everyone so I brought you here.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, handing it to you with red cheeks. You didn’t know how to react except for responding with a small ‘thank you’ before opening the note.

Dear Y/N,

I kinda feel like an idiot writing this letter to you, but I didn’t know how else to tell you. Okay I’m just gonna say it, I like you. Like really like you. I like spending time with you, whether it’s with the boys or alone, I like showing you the songs I’m working on, I like when you sit close to me on movie nights, I like when you smile and literally light up any room you walk into, I like how little strands of your hair fall into your eyes and you don’t even notice it, I like the way your dimples pop out every time you smile, I like everything about you. I really like the way I feel when I’m around you, like I get this tingly feeling in my stomach and I can feel my heart do little flips in my chest, and I just feel really happy when I’m around you. Everything in me just wants to keep you happy, because you look really beautiful when you smile, and your laugh is probably more contagious than Hoseok’s (and that’s saying a lot). My point is, I’m wearing my heart on my sleeve right now and I just wanted to ask you something.

P.S: Look back up at me when you’re done reading this.

You had tears in your eyes by the time you looked back up at a nervous Yoongi, his hands shoved in his front pockets to keep himself from fidgeting with them.

“Now that you know my feelings, will you please be my girlfriend?” Yoongi couldn’t tear his eyes away from yours, not until he heard your answer. Right now, he was giving his heart to you in hopes that you wouldn’t break it. He was revealing a vulnerable side of him that only you got to see, and that he had never shown anyone.

You smiled as a few tears slipped past your eyelids, which made Yoongi immediately go into panic mode.

“Oh shit, did I do something? I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that-“ You cut him off by chuckling lightly, shaking your head.

“Shut up and kiss me, idiot.” Your hands reached up to rest on his cheeks, pulling his face closer to yours until your lips met his. Almost immediately, his hands rested on your waist, pulling your body closer to his.

The kiss lasted a little less than ten seconds before both of you hesitantly pulled back just enough to look at each other’s faces.

“Yes,” You spoke softly, causing a confused look to take over Yoongi’s face. Laughing lightly, you realized he completely forgot about his question. “I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Yoongi smiled his gummy smile that you absolutely adored, his arms wrapping around your waist to hug you again. The size of your smile mirrored his as your hands ran through his hair.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” His head pulled back, leaning down to kiss you again. You broke the kiss after a second, though, much to his dismay.

“As much as I just want to kiss you all night, we have a crowd of people waiting for us outside.” Yoongi whined, only making you laugh more. But you were serious about going back out there, taking hold of his hand and walking back out of his room. The two of you walked hand in hand back to the living room, smiling at all of the surprised faces staring back at you.

“Finally!” Jimin called out, earning himself a slap on the back of the head from Seokjin. But everyone agreed with Jimin’s opinion, congratulating you and Yoongi.

You all decided to end the night with cake and a movie. Everyone called for you to pick the movie while Minah got up to grab the cake in the kitchen, so you picked ‘Toy Story 2’ again. They all started complaining, but you just smiled and pressed play on the screen.

Instead of sitting on the couch like you normally would’ve, you decided to sit on the floor in between Yoongi’s legs, leaning your back against his chest. You felt two strong arms wrap around your waist, looking back to see your now boyfriend looking back down at you with a smile on his face. Making sure no one was looking, you leaned up to quickly kiss his waiting lips before resting your head back on his shoulder, your arms resting on top of his.

This was officially the best birthday ever.

[zero00kiryu00]

MHA Unhealthy Habits Headcanon Pt. 1

▵ This headcanon dawned on me while I was thinking about my own unhealthy habits.

▵ You don't have to agree with what I'm about to say here, but please be respectful.

▵ TW for topics relating to mental health and dysphoria. ▵

▵ Deku never allows himself to be a priority. Why would he? As the successor of the former number one hero, Deku has an immense amount of pressure and expectation resting on his shoulders.

▵ Everyone else is more important than him — everyone else’s needs go above his own.

▵ For Deku, coping with stress and anxiety is practically a non-existent concept. The boy doesn’t know when he needs to take a break and refuses to do so when other people suggest that he should relax for a while.

▵ Everything, including himself, is a project for the benefit of others based on external expectations.

▵ Bakugou needs to hydrate, and he knows he does — his quirk is reliant on his body’s sweat, which of course is produced by the water in his system — but he rarely drinks water at all.

▵ He will drink literally anything else before he drinks water, making him the most dehydrated out of any of the other 1-A students.

▵ He won’t get angry when someone reminds him to drink it, but he will absolutely do so begrudgingly and glare at whoever it was the entire time he’s swallowing down the glass of water like a kid after playing outside on a hot summer day, gulping and gasping when the glass is empty.

▵ He won’t drink a second glass of it afterwards for at least a while.

▵ Uraraka likes to give herself small rewards when working on tasks. One of these is food.

▵ She uses it as motivation to complete a task, but because of the nature of things, her so-called motivation is more punishment than anything.

▵ “I’ll eat as soon as I finish this assignment!” She’ll say, working on an essay for class that takes twice the usual amount of time because she can’t stop thinking about Mochi and grilled eggplant, listening to her stomach growling as her focus disappears.

▵ She eventually finishes the essay and goes to eat, but it took way longer than it should have.

▵ Denki’s internal body clock is practically non-existent.

▵ His sleep schedule is so horribly messed up that he can nap anywhere at any given time because of how exhausted he is.

▵ He finds himself staying up late, initially to work on schoolwork to help his grades or to keep socializing with friends.

▵ He doesn’t realize that what he’s experiencing is revenge bedtime procrastination — he just thinks that the nighttime is the only time he can do whatever he wants.

▵ He stays up playing video games, reading comics, or just about anything else to delay his sleep to avoid acknowledging the reality of needing to go to hero training in the morning.

▵ Kirishima’s experience at Fat Gum’s agency was definitely one that helped advance his career as a hero, and he was very thankful for the opportunity.

▵ But with that advancement into his career came a change in his body type — to the point where it was noticeable to other students at UA who commented that “Fat Gum must’ve taught you to eat well!”

▵ Kirishima hates when people point out that he had gained some weight. He knows that it was actually beneficial for his quirk not to be pure muscle, but he can’t help but feel less manly with the bit of pudge on his stomach now.

▵ So he resorts to yo-yo dieting — off and on restricting certain foods in order to keep his muscle mass up and his body fat down, switching to “healthier” alternatives that really just disregard the necessary amount of nutrients he needs.

▵ Iida has an immense amount of respect for himself and the people around him. He admires his fellow classmates, other heroes and mentors in his life, consistently striving to be a better version of himself and a better hero.

▵ On top of that, Iida holds a lot of responsibility, both to himself and to his classmates as class president, which makes it difficult for him to decline something when his plate is already overflowing.

▵ Setting boundaries for himself, letting both others and himself know that he has too much going on, is one of the most difficult tasks.

▵ He'll miss out on social interactions with his classmates to get through whatever extra chore he agreed to do, putting himself at the top of the pedestal for reliability and responsibility, but well below the lowest rung for social growth.

▵ It started out as a joke. A petty way to get back at his dad for being a generic douchebag with lots of cash sitting away in a bank account. Taking Endeavour's platinum credit card didn't seem like that big of a deal.

▵ Todoroki would treat his friends to lunch one day, flashing the bright silver coating on the credit card as he handed it to their server that day.

▵ From there, it became treating his friends to lunch more often, buying things for them that they would complain about needing no matter the cost (especially for Uraraka, who had only basics due to her home life), which then spiralled into buying things for himself that he liked purely on impulse and without thinking it through.

▵ Todoroki's impulse spending became an even bigger problem when he graduated UA and became a pro-hero, spending every last cent of his paycheque on mundane items after paying for his basic necessities.

▵ After all, he has an issue with impulse, not responsibility.

▵ Mina does very well to keep herself presentable and stylish when spending time around people. Her bubbly and flashy outfits are proof enough of that.

▵ But what Mina projects -- a bubbly outgoing personality and a clean appearance -- is not necessarily what takes place behind her bedroom door.

▵ While she keeps herself clean, her space is always a mess, to the point where walking through her bedroom is impossible, unless she's the one navigating through it. There is just enough space for her to walk through an endless sea of school books, costumes, outfits, accessories, and takeout food packets strewn all across the floor.

▵ Since Mina enjoys spending time with friends in their rooms or homes, or at the mall or movie theatre -- literally anywhere aside from her bedroom -- she never cleans her space.

▵ Her school desk, locker, and even her purse are an absolute disaster zone. Denki swore he found a two-week-old sandwich in the back of Mina's locker once.

▵ Part 2 can be found here. ▵

[lovinkiri]

Undercover Wild Cat, Chapter Twelve

Description: Sasha finds herself interning with Hawks! She gets hero experience and has done tough questions to deal with along the way.

Author's Thoughts: Just a chapter showing what Sasha's internship was like!

OC Credit: @jix-the-dragon

Art Credit: @.jabberwockyface

<<< ♡ >>>

“You’ve got to be kidding me. I can’t believe I’m here.”

Sasha stood there in her hotel room, staring down the winged hero who she’d be interning for. “I’ve been seeing too much of you lately.”

“Well, that’s for work.” Hawks grinned casually. “This time, we’ll have fun. We’ll put away bad guys and save people just like heroes.”

She placed her bag on the bed, opening it to unpack her things. “I’m all for kicking ass and stuff. But this is kinda unnecessary. I’ll never be a hero anyway.” She sighed.

She frowned as soon as the statement left her mouth. She really didn’t like the sound of that. After spending weeks with her classmates and learning how to be a hero, she found herself fantasizing about it. Not having to hide, not having to go through agent training, not having to take lives.

Being able to be honest with her friends.

“Friends..” She thought. She never thought she’d call anyone her friends. And look at her now. A high school student with friends who walked her home.

A high school student with a crush.

A high school student.

The thought of leaving that all behind… It upset her, she could admit. And though she was taught to train her emotions, Hawks could see it. Maybe it was the experience, maybe he just understood, but he saw it.

“Do you really wanna be an agent, kid?” He asked, leaning against the doorframe. It wasn’t often Hawks got very serious, but there he was. There was no smile, no playful spark in his eyes. No teasing in his voice, nothing. 

It caught her off guard seeing him like this sometimes. She could only imagine how he felt when she went from being a cold agent to a warm UA student. Or how her classmates would feel were they to witness something like that. Nonetheless, she answered, shaking her head dismissively.

“I chose this life, Hawks. When I was a little girl, I knew what I was getting into. I still haven’t completed my goal anyway.” Her response was uniform, and it didn’t answer his question. Hawks expected that though, he often was able to do the same thing. It came with the territory. That didn’t mean he was gonna let it go just yet though.

“That’s not what I asked. You aren’t just a little girl anymore and you’ll complete your goal sooner or later. Then what? Do you want to be an agent?” 

Sasha remained quiet for a while, choosing to instead not answer. Another tactic from the commission. “If lying doesn’t work, shut up”. That’s what they were told. 

“Fine. But your silence says a million things.” He chuckled, walking over to the balcony. He opened the food, the wind immediately entering the room and lightly blowing at his hair. 

Sasha could feel the room get less tense as his seriousness faded. She couldn’t help but admire how just a change of emotion could affect someone. When he got stern, it felt almost suffocating. Even if he had said nothing with her back turned to him, she’d know he was bothered.

Hawks hoisted himself on the balcony railing. “We start tomorrow, kid. I’ll text you the directions, so just don’t be late.” With a lazy grin, he was gone.

She let out a sigh she didn’t know she was holding back. “He’s so frustrating..” She grumbled, going back to unpacking. “That’s such a weird question. Who actually wants to be an agent anyway? It’s just a last resort for most people anyway..”

Walking over to the balcony door, she stood there for a moment, letting the cool air travel over her skin. Staring off in the direction Hawks flew in, she had a sudden thought. This thought would bug her until she finally found sleep.

“I wonder why Hawks is an agent?”

~~~

Sasha was surprised. She was actually learning quite a bit on this internship, both about Hawks and being a hero.

First, Hawks was fast. She knew he was fast, but she didn’t realize just how fast he moved until she worked with him. Of course, she was fast too, especially with her quirk, but Hawks was on a whole other level. While she may not have been as fast, she was thankfully able to keep up just enough to not lose him.

Second, Hawks could do a lot with his feathers. There were things she saw him lift with his feathers that heroes would physically struggle with. His ability to use his feathers as a sword was another thing. He was amazing, especially with his swordsmanship. She had started to consider using a weapon herself, maybe a dagger?

Third, being a hero was extremely demanding. There was always someone who needed help, someone was needed saving. She didn’t know what she should have expected though, especially working with the number three hero.

Fourth, and lastly, being a hero was actually very rewarding. She couldn't really explain it. She helped people from the shadows all the time, but doing it in the light and seeing their faces was something else…

“Thank you! Thank you!”

Sasha looked owlishly at the woman before her, handing her the child she’d quickly saved from some rubble. The woman hugged her son close before pulling Sasha in too, sniffling and crying tears of relief and gratitude.

“Oh! No problem.. He looks fine, but please get him to a medic who could tell you better than I could..” Sasha said, rubbing the woman’s back in an attempt to calm her. 

The young boy looked up at Sasha in amazement. “... Who are you?”

Before she could answer, Hawks called out to her. “Yo, Namir! Let’s get going, no time to waste!” He grinned, crossing his arms and flying off.

Sasha sighed, stepping back from the two. “Duty calls. Please be safe.” She smiled and immediately ran after Hawks, scaling buildings and running along rooftops just to keep track of the flying hero's location.

The boy looked up at his mother smiling. “She’s a hero, Mama!”

“Yes. Yes, she is, sweetheart!”

~~~

“Finally!” Sasha sighed, leaning back. She and Hawks sat at the top of a skyscraper with bento boxes in their laps. “I didn’t realize your schedule was so full. How do you do it?”

He chuckled, shrugging lazily. “I make time. Someone could die if I don’t. Being a hero is a lot of responsibility, just like being an agent.”

“I see that.. But why does it feel so different?” She mused aloud, looking up thoughtfully. 

“Because we haven’t killed anyone in a shady alleyway.” 

He said it with a smile, laughing even. But he was right. They hadn’t had to take anyone out. They focused more on being saviors than being exterminators.

“Have you ever killed anyone?” She asked, looking at Hawks curiously. She could certainly see him doing it, but she knew better than to assume.

He didn’t give her an answer though. 

“That’s mighty personal,” He said, biting into a chicken tender. “Have you?”

She chose to remain in silence. Of course, she had, not that she could tell anyone. Naomasa didn’t even know. If he had, Sasha was sure he’d either demand for her to quit or disown her. The commission was always ready to take in orphans, but she loved Naomasa. Her parents entrusted her to him.    

She hated to keep secrets, but she just couldn’t tell the truth.

“Are we really good guys?” She looked down at her lunch, lightly picking at it. “Or are we just pretending?”

Hawks looked at her with an unreadable expression before sighing. “It’s a grey area, Kid. I wish I could give you a real answer, but I can’t. Depends on who you ask honestly.”

“Well, I’m asking you, Hawks.” She looked over at him. “What do you think?”

He chose his words carefully before speaking. “Kind of. Especially when you’ve got a good reason and no other way.”

She huffed. “That’s such a bad response. You never give me a straight answer.” She shoved an octopus sausage in her mouth, rolling her eyes at the sound of Hawks’ laughter.

“And you didn’t give me an answer at all when I asked if this was the life you really wanted. Answer my question and I’ll answer one of yours.”

“No way! And stop eating with your mouth full!” She scolded.

He laughed. “C’mon, tell me something!”

“...”

“Cat got your tongue again, Kid?”

“You are just the worst.”

~~~

“I’m fine, Naomasa.”

“Are you sure? I can swing by your hotel and bring you a couple of things.”

It was every night that they spoke on the phone. They had both lived together and cared for each other for so long that it was hard to get used to their absences. 

“No, I’m fine. Thanks though. How are things at home?”

Naomasa sighed. “Quiet. Very different. I’m not used to you being gone yet. I have no clue what I’ll do when you move out.”

“What do you mean? I’ll never move out. You’re stuck with me forever.” She chuckled, patting dry her face after shaving just washed it. She looked into the mirror, pouting as she noticed a bruise on her cheek. Hero work hurt sometimes.

“Good. Someone needs to remind me to eat when I’m swamped with work.”

“Speaking of which-” 

“Yes, Sasha, I saw your text earlier and I had lunch. I’m sure you’re busy with Hawks though, you don’t need to worry about me.”

Sasha smiled. “I’ll always worry about you. Someone has to, you know.”

“Oh yes, because you are the parent.”

“Yes, and you are the grown man on the force who forgets to eat lunch and still falls asleep on the couch.” She teased, sitting at her bed and laying back.

“Yeah, yeah..” He grumbled.

“Oh, and we can’t forget that one time I did our laundry and-”

“My underwear is normal, Sasha.”

“Sure. Hey, when would you even wear purple heart-eye emoji boxers?” She laughed, grinning wide at the memory. That was definitely a good day for her.

“Yeah, yeah. Well, what about you? Having fun?”

Her laughter died down with a content sigh. “Mhm. Hawks is pretty weird, but he’s a good man and I’ve learned a lot from him. And helping people during the day is really nice since I don’t have to be so careful.”

“Good.. I’m glad. Listen Sash, I gotta go. I’m actually visiting someone tonight.”

Her eyebrows raised in curiosity. “Got a date with a special lady?”

“A date? No, no. I’m far too busy for that.” He chuckled. “But I am meeting up with someone special to me.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Nao. Love you.”

“I love you too. Goodnight.”

With that, she hung up. She always felt relaxed after talking with Naomasa at night. There was a sense of familiarity with every call. She felt much less alone.

“... He’s so lucky to have me.” She mused to herself, staring at the ceiling above her.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. It was a bit late, so she wasn’t expecting anyone. She figured it was probably Hawks coming to annoy her with a surprise patrol. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Sighing, she stood and walked over to the door, swinging it open. “Hawks, no more midnight patrols-!” She cut herself off, taken aback by the sight before her.

There stood Naomasa with a tupperware container in hand. “Midnight patrols? Do I have to have a talk with the number three hero?” He rose an eyebrow. 

She smiled, hugging him tightly. “Nao! Oh my gosh, you’re here! Why are you here?” She looked up at him.

He put a hand on her head, lightly ruffling her hair. “Well, I made some of my famous steak last night and accidentally made a second helping for you. I didn’t want to put it to waste.”

She grinned, grabbing the container from him excitedly. “You brought your steak?”

Naomasa smiled down at the girl before him fondly. She was staying at a 5-star hotel, a hotel that probably served food prepared much better than he ever could. But there she was, still gushing over some steak he made at home. 

“Someone’s excited.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “You do love steak though. What’d I expect?” 

”No, no. I love your steak! It’s my absolute favorite! I missed it!” Her eyes seemed to sparkle at the steak in her hands. Then they lifted to meet his. “And I miss home.”

The two talked for a bit more. Catching up in person was a lot better than talking over the phone. From the joyful smiles to the embarrassed expressions from teasing.

Naomasa couldn’t stay too long. He had work and Sasha had interning. So the two parted ways, Sasha trying to insist on walking him to the entrance of the hotel.

“C’mon, just let me walk you!” She sighed, pulling away from their farewell hug. 

Naomasa shook his head. “You should just get some rest, Sasha. Besides, if you walk me out, how will I know that you got to your room safely?”

She sighed. “A text, Nao, I’ll send a text.” She crossed her arms.

“Not good enough for me.” He ruffled her hair once more. “I’ll see you when you come home, alright? And really, let me know if I need to speak to HAwks.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m fine, you don’t have to get all angry parent on him. I love you, Nao. Goodnight, for real this time.”

“I love you too, Sasha. Goodnight.. For real this time.”

[gryffindors-weasley]

Relighting A Flame

Ron Weasley x Reader

Summary: A routine day at work resurfaces unexpected feelings when you encounter the very person responsible for them.

Requested by @snitches-at-dawn : ��can i get a ron fluff about bumping into him in diagon alley after years of having broken up”

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: mentions of death, grieving, break ups, angst, fluff

A/N: This will be part one of two! Thank you for the request, Liz!

(not my gif, credits to the maker)

It was a busy day, a long shift ahead of you at Amanuensis Quills. Students, both new and experienced, had swarmed the old cobblestone walkways of Diagon Alley. The bustling commotion filtered in with no intentions of stopping any time soon; it was always the busiest time of year for obvious reasons. You had your work cut out for you with a seemingly endless amount of quills to stock up for the new school year, an equally daunting amount of ink to shelve as well. To make matters worse, you had been left to run the shop by yourself for the day.

Fortunately for you, quills hadn’t been on the top of the list of priorities for most students and their parents, it certainly was never on yours. They’d much prefer to get their brooms in preparation for quidditch and even more excitingly a wand carry with them through their years of magical endeavors. That was always your favorite part.

It was a nice place to work, one with a welcoming familiarity that was very much appreciated. A job outside of the wizarding word didn’t seem quite like a good fit for you, so this was your best option. You were happy though, Flourish and Blotts was right down the walkway for you to stop in on your lunch breaks. They always had something new to appeal to your taste in literature and that was enough to give you something to look forward to each day. It was a cozy place to be in with its winding pathways and perfectly imperfect buildings, and the lanterns dotting along every one had only added to its warmth.

For the most part, you were as happy as you could be given the circumstances of your personal life. You had been accepted into the best training program to become a healer at St. Mungo’s, something you’d always wanted and now it was finally coming together. The training was rather rigorous as one would expect, but you’d always had Madame Pomfrey to help you along when you attended Hogwarts. It felt as though you had a stable footing in your education and you were right where you wanted to be.

You had your own apartment not far away, furnished exactly how you could dream of and maybe even better than you imagined. It was quaint and it was warm and it was yours. No pesky neighbors and you were free to use however much magic you’d like given everyone around there had been witches and wizards. You couldn’t ask for anything better than what you have, though maybe you could think of a few things.

It was a fairly good life to live after the wizarding war, one that was more fortunate than you could have thought to have. Though the burdens of such a historic event still weighed heavy on your heart if thought on for too long.

The small brass bell on the countertop had rung out behind you once to signal a new customer, effectively pulling you from your thoughts and grabbing your attention. It was a perfect and much needed break from the task you’d been working on for the better part of two hours, and it was one you accepted without an ounce of hesitation. You set down the cardboard box in your hands, turning to greet the person who had been responsible for ringing it. Though in that moment, it seemed as though the words had been taken from you completely and pushed out of your mind. Familiar blue eyes had met your own, eyes that had always been obstructed by strands of near unruly red hair. They belonged to someone you hadn’t seen in the better part of six years.

Your mouth hung slightly agape, your heart stilling in your chest and your surroundings fading around you.

“Hey,” Ron managed, fighting a smile because he wasn’t entirely sure if it had been appropriate in that very moment.

You swallow thickly as you try to collect yourself in your flustered state, though the heat blossoming in your cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Seconds of silence had ticked by unforgivingly, each one more agonizing than the last and you quickly began to realize you needed to say something soon or it’d just get worse.

“Hey.”

That was all you could manage, just one single word. But to be fair, how does one broach talking to someone they so desperately longed to see, someone that held so much meaning yet felt so far away?

He scratched the back of his neck as the quiet tension became increasingly more apparent, averting his gaze from you momentarily before the tips of his ears burned any hotter. It was as if he’d just met you, as if the years of endeavors at Hogwarts and countless late night kisses hadn’t ever existed. He felt ridiculous for being so timid around you, for you were not a stranger and you never will be.

“How...is there something I can help you with?”

Your question seemed to have baffled him, and he found himself scrambling to think of just what shop he had even been in currently. The mere sound of your voice had him forgetting all else and he hadn’t realized just how much he longed to hear it. Truthfully he’d been there for you; he’d plucked up the courage to do so after hearing this was where you’d been. George had told him after he had bumped into you on your way to work one morning. Of course he would tell his brother, he’d missed you too after all. But not as much as Ron had, and he would never tell you that.

Your patient but expectant look had pulled him from his daze, his cheeks flushing a pale scarlet as he stood a little straighter and smoothed his loosened tie. His grip on the strap of his bag had tightened as he cleared his throat.

“Y–Yeah…could I get a package of quills?”

The words tumbled out so pathetically as he stammered them, humiliation seeping into every fiber of his being. He knew this was a bad idea, to come and see you. He debated it for months and though maybe it’d be okay. But it was clear you didn’t want to see him; at least that’s what he’d been thinking.

You nod with a soft smile and disappear around a corner momentarily, leaving him to stand in his own regret and offering you an opportunity to release the jittery sigh you’d been holding. Every word you said had been one you over analyzed, and you felt maybe you had been too dismissive, too short with him. Maybe you had come off as though he was the very last person you wanted to see, when in reality he was the first. He’d been the first for years now and you felt you had yourself to blame for that.

Stuffing your feelings down, you reach up on your toes and snag a fresh box from its slightly dusty shelf, taking a breath before willing yourself to go back. He’s standing right where you left him, his gaze so focused on you that he looked away in an instant to pretend it’d just been coincidence. He was always so blatantly obvious. However, it was something you came to be grateful for when your arm snags the corner of the counter, sending the delicate quills flying from their box and fluttering to the ground. The tiny metallic clangs against the floor in the quiet shop were a deafening reminder of your clumsy blunder, and your cheeks burned fiercely when he had looked at you once more.

“I’m sorry, Ron,” You rush with a soft laugh, internally scolding yourself for acting so foolishly in front of him. You’d known him since you were twelve after all, so it shouldn’t have been so difficult.

Your hands shook as you gathered the soft feathers and you tried not to focus on the way you felt him staring. If you had, you just might make another mistake. He was too busy reveling at the sound of his name falling from your lips for the first time in what felt like forever, something he’d thought about more times than he could count. He was too busy dealing with the emotions cascading over him to care about your inherent clumsiness, for you’d always been that way.

You stood to your feet once everything was as it should be, your hair falling ungracefully in your face at the sudden action, and set the box down in front of him. He’d resorted to looking over every inch of the place in that moment in hopes it’d make you forget he’d been gawking.

“I’m sorry,” you say once more, much more meek than you had anticipated it to be.

“It’s okay, lo—” he cut himself short, nearly falling into old habits. He couldn’t call you that anymore. “It’s okay.”

You nod with a soft laugh, looking in his eyes for the first time since he had come in, a small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“What ever could you be doing with thirty quills?” You ask curiously, anything to stave off the tension, though you also wanted to know. Your smile had been returned at your teasing question.

“I’m a professor,” he says, breathing out a nervous laugh of his own. “I’ve uh…I’ve taken over for Lupin. It’s my first year teaching on my own.”

Your eyes widen a fraction at his explanation and you smile a bit brighter at him from your spot across the counter.

“That’s wonderful, Ron!” You exclaim, your hand reaching out to grab his arm in excited habit. Realization was quick to hit you, and it felt as though sparks of electricity had mingled between you, the contact leaving flushed skin in its wake. You quickly recoil your hand, the heat traveling from your cheeks down to your neck. “You’ve…you’ve always wanted to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. Ever since Umbridge had taken over for a bit.”

“Yeah,” he laughs, nodding his head in agreement. “That was quite awful.”

The familiar silence was soon to settle over you again, his eyes meeting yours. You’d love to know just what he was thinking, though you were uncertain if your heart could take it if you knew. What you did know was that it was a near impossible feat to look away from him, however, no matter how much you told yourself to. But a rather annoyed throat clearing had sounded and you peered just over his shoulder at the source. A growing line had formed behind him and he reluctantly spared a glance too, dread pooling in his stomach.

“I guess this is goodbye,” you say, offering a small smile.

“I guess it is,” he laughs softly, digging around in his pocket for money. He paid in exchange for his quills, trying not to think about the way your fingertips brushed against his. Or the way he wasn’t quite ready to leave just yet.

“It was nice seeing you again, Ron.”

He looks up at you, a bittersweet smile on his lips as he nodded. “You too, Y/n.”

He brought himself to look away after several moments no matter how much he didn’t want to, but the series of huffs over his shoulder were hard to ignore. He turned around and walked past the very apparent line of customers giving him a sideways glance for holding them up. You watched after him for a moment until he left, disappearing around the corner and out of view as your smile fades. You found yourself rather disappointed at the brief interaction, you wanted more time and your heart squeezed in your chest at the thought. But your attention is quickly stolen by the next customer in line.

—

The rest of the day had gone by quite differently, and the weather had clouded up seemingly to reflect your mood. Every day had been routine; you wake up, you come to work, you go home, and you do it again the next day. Any bit of heartache is easily shoved down and forgotten should there be any that boil over. It’s not everyday that the very love of your life, your best friend, comes in and singlehandedly resurfaces every one of those feelings you fought to keep at bay. The good and the bad.

The brief interaction set back six years of progress you’d made with yourself, six years of trying to live a life without him in it. That small window of time had taken that progress and diminished it to nothing. You missed him, so much so you found yourself looking out of the display windows at the front of the store all day in hopes he’d come back. You missed him and you didn’t want to, you wanted to revert back to the time you didn’t feel as though seeing him completed your day. Now you had seen him, you had talked to him, you had looked in his eyes. You’d been happy to see him and sad all the same. Now the cycle would begin again.

It had been Ron’s decision to take a break from your relationship, just under a year after the war. He had been too overcome with grief over the loss of his brother that he’d withdrawn himself from you, from everyone really. It wasn’t unlike him, and you couldn’t blame him for it either. He loved his family very dearly, and he fought fiercely to protect them. You can’t say you hadn’t expected him to respond this way, you were quite sure you would too and you had been to an extent. But not like Ron. For that, he didn’t feel as though it was fair for you, he didn’t want you to feel responsible for mending his broken pieces. He didn’t want you to feel as though you’d been ignored. You deserved better in his eyes, someone who didn’t feel like a mere shell of the person they once were. Someone who didn’t sulk around and confine himself to his room.

So he broke up with you, regretfully at that. But he couldn’t and wouldn’t forgive himself if he allowed you to feel unloved or unwanted. Because that—that would never be true.

You’d like to think that you handled it very well when he told you, it was a reason that was more than justified. There was no animosity, there were no hard feelings or resentment, not even a little. But that didn’t stop the hurt that settled deep within you. It was a feeling you felt somewhat selfish for but it remained nonetheless. It stayed and it only got worse with each day that passed, with each unanswered letter, with each visit to the Burrow to check up on him only for him to avoid your gaze and tell you softly that he was fine. It was nothing personal, yet it very much felt like it.

In time, you’d wrote to him less and less. Your visits to the beloved family home became few and far between until they had stopped altogether. It wasn’t because you didn’t care, you don’t believe you could ever stop caring for him and his family. But that very feeling was what had been hurting you the most. And any wall you had built has since crumbled unceremoniously to the ground with the days events.

With a sigh, you stacked the last of the shipment of quills and fresh ink onto their respective shelves, brushing the dust on your hands off on your jeans. The chaos of the day had finally ceased now that the sign on the door was flipped to ‘closed’, a quiet settling over the shop. You loved the week before the new school year and hated it all the same; it was endearing to see excited new students frequent Diagon Alley for the first time like you had done years ago. But the frenzy of flustered customers that almost seemed never ending was very much something you could do without.

You gave the room a once over, each package neatly organized, the floor swept and the empty shelves dusted. Perhaps you went above and beyond to distract yourself and keep from going home to simmer in your thoughts, but the darkening clouds had urged you to reconsider. You didn’t have anything particularly exciting to do that evening save for reading the book you’d bought earlier that morning. Though you didn’t think you could concentrate on the story at this point. You were tired and you were replaying it over in your mind.

Reluctantly, you switched off each lamp that dotted around the small shop, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you step outside with a soft sigh. The smell of the rain had immediately hit you, and it was a breath of fresh air compared to the smell of cardboard and ink. Pulling down the shutter over the window on the door you close it and lock it behind you, stuffing the tarnished set of keys in your pocket.

It was significantly less busy at this hour but you made it all of three steps before spotting the ever familiar head of red hair, your heart skipping a beat once more. Your brows furrow as you look up at him, nearly bumping right into him as your head tilts to the side in curiosity.

“What are you doing here?” You ask softly, hoping it hadn’t sounded too expressive of how you’d been feeling.

Ron’s cheeks flush again as he laughs, fidgeting before you as his box of quills sat tucked under his arm. “I was…I was just visiting George,” he says, pointing in the general direction of his brothers shop just down the way from you. “That’s all.”

He could have kicked himself for stumbling over his own words, you had to have thought he sounded ridiculous. He really had gone to see George as he had very frequently, but that had been no less than two hours ago. You nod your head.

“Oh,” you say quietly, offering a small smile in response. “I see.”

He hums, and you look at the rain drops splashing against the cobblestone one after another. You wanted to apparate away, to shut out the world and be in the comfort of your own home so you could unpack the day. And yet you wanted to stay, no matter how much your heart ached upon seeing him you still enjoyed his presence and felt miserable when it was gone.

“I should be going home now,” you say, risking a final glance. He appeared as though he was about to say something before you had beat him to it, and you turned away from him to head to your apartment.

“Y/n wait,” he calls after you, effectively stopping you in your tracks. You look over your shoulder, turning around fully once you see the look on his face. Your brow raises as you await his words, watching as he struggles to find them for a few passing moments. “Would you…would you want to have tea on Thursday?”

Your breath hitches as you stand there, your heart beginning to pound in your chest. The rhythmic beat rang loudly in your ears, so much so that it had to have been heard over the rain. You were quite sure the rise and fall of your chest had been painfully obvious, not to mention the heat in your cheeks that was rapidly trickling down your neck. The numerous thoughts swirled around in your mind in a whirlpool in that moment; it should have been an easy decision, an immediate yes. But the wall you built wasn’t completely destroyed, and the reluctance to get your hopes up for something good was clouding your judgement.

You knew you looked like a fish out of water as you stood before him and each wordless second that passed you by hadn’t been helping your cause. Ron was beginning to worry he overstepped, but he hadn’t said anything either.

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” you manage, exhaling a shaky breath before timidly meeting his gaze.

The look on his face is enough to make your heart burst in your chest but you bite the inside of your cheek, your eyes bouncing between his. He swallows thickly at the soft statement, nodding his head as he looks away from you. You mimic his actions and the grip on your bag tightens as you will away the tears that fought to spill.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, nodding as if to convince himself that he believed you. “Yeah you’re probably right.”

His laugh is soft and humorless, more so to cover up the fact that his heart had dropped down to his stomach. Or the fact that he was embarrassed. He didn’t want to accept this kind of fate, he didn’t want to accept that you felt it best to be apart, even if you didn’t really. He hadn’t expected you to run into his arms, but he didn’t want you to leave.

You nod and clear your throat, the rumble of thunder providing you with an excuse to go your separate ways. With all the hesitation in the world, you lift your hand and give a half wave, unable to trust your own voice with a proper goodbye. You look at him once more, his gaze so full of what could only be longing that you couldn’t bear it.

Spinning on your heel, you try and make your leave again despite your heart cracking and the soft sigh behind you. He couldn’t see you like that. It felt wrong to leave, for the life of you, you couldn’t give yourself even a half decent reasoning for it other than to protect yourself from any more hurt. Spending the last six years without him paled in comparison to this.

“I miss you.”

You still completely at the shaky declaration, and it felt as though the breath had been stolen from your lungs. The words were gentle and you almost convinced yourself you hadn’t heard him correctly. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you peer over your shoulder. He stood there with hope, a feeling that could get him in a great deal of trouble but he can’t bring himself to care about the repercussions right now.

“What?”

His tongue swipes over his lips as he takes a deep breath, willing himself to keep talking. “You’re my best friend, and I miss you. Okay?”

He hadn’t meant to sound so aggressive and forward, but he felt he needed to say it before he didn’t have the chance to. He didn’t expect you to take him back, he didn’t even expect you to give him the time of day. But if there was one thing he could say, that would be it and he took full advantage. It was something he wanted to tell you for far too long. He watched the myriad of emotions wash over you as you face him wholly, and he braces himself for your response.

Your reasoning for leaving seemed to falter and break apart the more time that went by, the more he looked at you like that. The look that was reserved for you, though you were always unaware of that fact and Ron was far too bashful to admit it. Anyone and everyone knew that look had always just been for you. He wasn’t known for being discreet with his feelings.

One tea couldn’t hurt, it wouldn’t break you, right? Surely it would have been better than spending your day at home. His words made your heart flutter, and he spoke them with the utmost of sincerity. It would only be self sabotage to reject this offer.

“Thursday you said?”

He felt so overcome with relief that he’d laughed softly, clearing his throat to try and rid himself of the lump forming there. He almost felt as if he’d conjured up the thought, but the soft smile you were biting back was confirmation enough.

“Yeah,” he nods, his rain dampened hair flopping over his eyes. “Thursday.”

“Okay,” you say, looking up at him. Your heart was still beating wildly, the rain pelting over you softly. “And Ron?”

His brows raise as he holds your gaze. You were reluctant to say it and make yourself vulnerable again. You gulp and think better of it.

“I’ll—I’ll see you then.”

—

Tags: @vogueweasley @theweasleysredhair @loony-loopy-lupinn @lupinsclassroom @amourtentiaa @hahee154hq

[emmy-writes-sometimes]

Happiest Place on Earth

You’ve had a rough go of it recently. Your boyfriend, Chris, schemes with your boss to give you the vacation you deserve.

-

           You couldn’t lie. Your day got a million times better when you saw Chris’s contact picture light up your phone. It was a picture you’d taken of him at the beach, smiling as he held Dodger in one arm and your old dog in the other, and it made your heart melt like anything in the Los Angeles summer sun. You picked up the phone right away, walking away from where everyone was editing.

           “Hey,” Chris’s voice said brightly. “How’s my favorite girl doin’?”

           “Not great,” you responded honestly. “A bunch of files got corrupted, so then we had to get different cuts, and that means re-shoots, which means more work, and…” You sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be complaining.”

           “It’s okay to get frustrated. I was going to ask when you think you’ll be done this afternoon?”

           “I don’t know, maybe seven? I know that ruins dinner, but…”

           “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry about it. Just get home when you can, bubba, alright?” You melted again at his sweet nickname for you and sat down at your desk, flicking your Nomad Steve bobble-head that you’d gotten as a joke when you’d started dating Chris.

           “Okay. I’m sorry.”

           “Don’t say that, you’re just doing your job. I’ll see you around seven-thirty, okay?”

           “Okay.”

           “I love you.”

           “I love you too.” He hung up a second later and you rolled your chair back over to the large computer where everyone was reviewing footage. You were lucky enough to get a job in Boston right after you finished working with Marvel, so while you had an amazing job editing, it took the life out of you. Computers were finicky, and you’d just lost half of what you’d done so far because someone had dropped the hard drive and corrupted everything. You were about to cry and it was barely 10 AM. But you loved it, so you stayed, despite all of the bad. You just wanted to see this video get edited, even if it took until the middle of the night.

           Chris sighed as he hung up the phone on you. He could hear in your voice that you were frustrated beyond belief. An idea popped into his head and he scrolled through his phone until he found the phone number he was looking for. Your boss, Jenna, had gone to school with Chris, and he just so happened to have her number. She answered right away, and Chris explained everything. That you were completely burned out, your fifteen year-old dog had died last month, and that even though you desperately needed a vacation you weren’t going to do it yourself. So he took ten out of the twenty-five PTO days you’d saved up over the past year, since they rolled over and you hadn’t taken a vacation the last year or the six months before that when you first started. Your boss said she’d send you home at seven even if you weren’t done and she’d send an intern to take your spot for a few days, and Chris grinned to himself as he hung up.

           He went directly to his computer and the website auto-filled before he even typed the entire thing in. He picked out the resort that your family used to stay at when you were kids, hoping he remembered it correctly, and he calculated how much time it would take to drive there and back because he knew you would be even angrier at him if he spent money on last-minute plane tickets. Then he got tickets, one for each park, and a whole extra day for the Star Wars park because he knew you were excited to go, and typed in his credit card. Would you be pissed? Probably. But would it be worth it when he drove through the gates and saw you smile? Definitely.

           You were a little alarmed when your boss sent you home, especially with that grin on her face that meant something was going on, and you tried not to be suspicious. You got to the house to see that the SUV had moved – you’d taken Chris’s car that morning, since he wasn’t planning to go anywhere, but he must have because it was backed in close to the back gate. You stuck your hands in your coat, locking the car in your pocket, and went in the front door. Dodger greeted you like he always did, jumping up on one of your legs until he could see that you weren’t hiding a treat in your hand. You greeted him with ear scratches before deciding to look for Chris.

           “Chris?” You asked. You saw him coming up the basement stairs and walked over to him. He was holding your laundry, which he usually complained about doing. “Why are you doing my laundry? Did you break something? Are you trying to butter me up?”

           “Not everything is about you, sweetheart,” he said as he put the white bin down. He greeted you with a kiss that he just smiled into.

           “Why are you so smiley?”

           “Can’t a guy smile at his girl?”

           “Nope, not you. Spill, Chris, what did you do?” He giggled, actually giggled, and took your hand. “Are you going to give me a hint?”

           “Nope. I’m going to lead you to your suitcase…” He took you up the stairs and then let you go in your bedroom, where he’d already gotten your suitcase out. “… and you’re going to pack for approximately eleven days. Bring triple the underwear, because you know why, at least three swimsuits, and your Chacos, and two cute outfits, but mostly functional. We’re going to be walking a lot.”

           “What?” You glared at him. He was just smiling, a shit-eating grin on his face, like he was waiting for you to figure it out. ���Are you why Jenna sent me home early?”

           “Maybe. Maybe not. You’ll never know. But we need to leave within the hour, and we’ll be in the car for quite a while, so download some podcasts and music for us to listen to because you’re the DJ.”

           “Have I ever told you how much I hate you?”

           “Yep. Every day, gorgeous.” He cupped your cheeks in his hands, kissed you, and then called Dodger’s name. “Dropping the dog off at Carly’s, I’ll be back in about, eh, half an hour? What snacks do you want?”

           “Uh, the usual road trip snacks?”

           “So combos, sour patch kids, and Chick-Fil-A on the way out of town?”

           “Well, if you’re offering.” He rolled his eyes and left the room. You weren’t going to say no to whatever he had planned, because he wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t think you would need it. So you packed everything he told you to pack, throwing in exactly what he told you to, but you went and grabbed some of his shirts to sleep in just to spite him.

           You finished packing your makeup, because he hadn’t really said anything about that but you just assumed, and shoved the bag in your suitcase. You packed up your personal computer, knowing he would kill you for taking your work computer, and gathered all of your chargers. He was back in a few minutes and you loaded everything into the SUV, grabbing a pillow and your favorite fuzzy blanket like he told you to, and you changed into road trip clothes, also known as shorts and one of Chris’s sweatshirts.

           “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” You asked as he pulled out of the house. He moved the GPS mount to the other vent, by him, so you couldn’t see.

           “Nope. You’re either figuring it out on the road or when we get there. So turn your location off.”

           “Whatever,” you said, showing him that you were turning your maps off. “How long are we driving? It’s almost 9.”

           “We’re driving until sunrise. And then I’m checking into a hotel, we’re sleeping, and then going on.”

           “Why couldn’t we fly?”

           “You would’ve been even more pissed off.”

           “Yeah, you’re not wrong.” You turned on your road trip playlist for about an hour before turning on the true crime podcast you and Chris liked to listen to whenever you got the chance to, which lately wasn’t very often. You fell asleep after a couple of hours and Chris turned on cruise control, since there wasn’t really anyone on the road, pressing the button to adjust it every so often. But for the most part, he was looking over at you and smiling, trying to figure out how the hell he managed to get you there.

           He herded you into a hotel as the sun was coming up, and you were so tired that you didn’t even care where you were. You just passed out on the bed and Chris tucked you in, heading to shower before joining you. When you woke up you checked in on Dodger, FaceTiming him, and then he got the two of you breakfast. You decided that he had to be driving down the coast because you kept seeing signs for beach highways, and that meant you were probably going to the Outer Banks or something like that. You were curious, but you trusted Chris. He wouldn’t take you anywhere he didn’t think was worthy of ten vacation days. You ignored most of the signs, but you determined after looking at freeway signs that you were going south.

           “Can I drive?” You asked, noticing that Chris was getting a little tired. He had moved his left leg a little bit and even though he’d been holding your hand for a few hours, he was getting antsy.

           “Nope. But I am stopping here.” He pulled over at a rest stop for the two of you to go to the bathroom and stretch your legs a little bit, but you were back in the car first. He looked happy as he walked back. He was wearing his gray sweat pants and a t-shirt and his Red Sox hat over the mop of hair that he hadn’t brushed that day. He threw away your food trash and then walked back, noticing you were looking at him.

           “What?” He asked. “If you’re going to keep looking at me like that, let me know and I’ll find another hotel.” You rolled your eyes, elbowing him. He scratched at his beard a little before moving his hand in between your thighs underneath the blanket, gripping your leg with his gigantic hand. He squeezed it three times – I love you – and then let you go so he could drive again.

           You spent most of the night blasting music, mostly bad pop-punk music from your childhoods, and probably listened to most of Blink-182’s discography along with the Top Gun soundtrack and even some Disney soundtracks, before moving back to podcasts. You saw a sign that said welcome to Florida and looked over at him.

           “No fucking way,” you said, suddenly catching on. He was heading toward the middle of Florida, not the coastal highway anymore, which meant you were either going to Orlando or the Keys, and the amount of hours added up to…

           “You okay?” He asked, grinning. “You understand now?”

           “Did you seriously steal my vacation days so we could go to Disney World?” He turned down Creep with his right hand and reached over to anchor his hand at the back of your head before leaning over to kiss your hairline.

           “I did. If you’re okay with that?”

           “Definitely. I love you.”

           “Yeah, I love you too.” It would be the second time you’d gone together, the first time being Disneyland at a Marvel event where he’d asked you to be his date. You usually just drove up to Maine or something for a couple days to relax at the beach, or there was one time when he took you to New York for the weekend to see your favorite show on Broadway.

           You were eager and sitting up as you listened to the last couple of podcast episodes you’d downloaded. Chris drove into the sunrise for another few hours before you finally saw the gates of Disney and you took your phone out, taking a video for your Instagram story. Chris just smiled at the camera, making it known that this was all his doing, and he slowed down. He made you cover your ears for what resort you were staying at, but when he pulled into the Port Orleans resort you realized it was because that was where your family stayed when you were a kid and you always talked about how you loved the French Quarter section. When he led you up to the room you found out that he’d gotten a view of the lake.

           “Have I ever told you how much I love you?” You said as you put your suitcase down.

           “Nah, you don’t need to.” He handed you your magic band from the last time you’d gone together – you hadn’t really gotten a choice since Marvel had sent them to Chris, but when he realized that it Peter Pan on it, who was your favorite Disney character, he’d given it to you while he took the Mickey one.

           “Yeah, I do. I love you.” You hugged him tightly and he just smiled down at you. His beard got caught in your hair and he had to un-tangle it before you could part ways.

           “I love you too. We should probably take a couple showers. Since it’s the smallest I figured we’d hit Magic Kingdom today, eat dinner there, and stay for the fireworks? If you’re not too tired we can stay after hours.”

           “Sounds good.” The two of you hopped in the shower together, mostly just to save time because you were both eager to get to the parks. You grabbed coffee from the shop downstairs and waited for the bus to take you there.

           You spent almost the entire day there, until it was a couple of hours until dinner. You’d both chosen to get on a water ride even though you weren’t dressed for it, so you had to go back and take another shower before then. You decided to dress up a little bit, since he’d told you what restaurant you were going to, and saw him smile as he emerged from the bathroom. You went back out to eat dinner and then he dragged you over to where the fireworks would be, even though they weren’t for half an hour, trying to get the two of you a good spot. He was like a little kid. You were both sitting on one of the fountain edges, sipping at beers, and then the fireworks were starting. You finished your beers and stood up, throwing them away before making your way back to Chris. He stood behind you, guarding you, and put his arms around you from the back, squeezing you into a hug as the music started.

           “Thank you,” you said to him, smiling as you turned to kiss him.

           “It’s the happiest place on Earth, babe.” You laughed and started watching the fireworks. They were over way to soon and you both decided just to turn in. You were exhausted, and you nearly fell asleep on him on the bus ride back to the resort. You took your clothes off, deciding to just deal with your leftover makeup tomorrow, and watched Chris as he got ready for bed.

           “What?” He asked you, looking you up and down. He finished what he was doing and walked over to you, a smile on his face, and pulled you close to him. You could smell his cologne even though he’d taken his clothes off, too. His skin still had a sweaty sheen on it from how hot it was outside, but you didn’t care.

           “I’m going to say something so cheesy you’ll want to punch me in the face.” He chuckled and wrapped his arm around your waist, kissing your neck and your shoulder until they were red.

           “What would that be?”

           “I’m glad you’re here. You’re my happy place. Even if Disney kind of is too.” You had both known you were in it for the long haul awhile ago, but you’d never admitted that to him; that you were never as happy as you were when you were with him. No matter where you were, or what situation you were in.

           “You just had to steal my spotlight, didn’t you?” He said against your skin.

           “Sorry.” He squeezed your body closer, tangling your legs together.

           “No. I don’t know if you noticed, but I’d do anything to make you happy. I love you so much, bubba. And I’m sorry I stole your vacation days.”

           “I love you too. We’ll discuss your punishment for that when I wake up.”

           “Ooh, punishment, I like the sound of that.”

           “We are in Disney World, Chris, get your mind out of the gutter!” The both of you laughed against one another for another few minutes before your conversation shifted to the next day’s plans, and with a final I love you, you were both asleep.

A/N: This is literally my dream so thanks to whoever requested! I loved writing this one so much! 

Taglist (if you’d like to be added, send me a message!): @an-adventureland, @firstangeldragonranch, @ssebstann, @winterreader-nowwriter

[mcheang]

“Then we can both run away...to an island.”

Post reveal. Adrien and Marinette are dating. Chloe sulks but Lila is already calling Gabriel to fret about Adrien dating such a bad girl.

Gabriel wants to akumatize Marinette so he forbids the relationship. Adrien seemingly agrees.

The next day at school, Adrien and Marinette tell their BFFs they are going to run away for a while and not to tell anyone else; especially Lila or Chloe. They also inform Kagami. They can spread the news after they are gone, that Gabriel is a controlling tyrant, who blackmails his son into choosing between his Girlfriend or his school life. Nino is up for anything against Adrien’s dad.

Marinette leaves a note for her parents, explaining she and Adrien wouldn’t be irresponsible. (She can not afford to be pregnant right now with Hawkmoth on the loose.)

Then with Kaalki’s help, they travel to the Bahamas and check in at a resort.

It’s a time to just chill and relax. All the kwamis play at their pool. Kaalki is boasting they owe it all to her.

Meanwhile, Nathalie is wondering where Adrien is since it is almost time for school. Then Sabina calls, frantic to ask if her Daughter is there. Apparently the couple have run away to be together.

Gabriel is understandably not pleased. He doesn’t sense enough negative emotion because Marinette and Adrien sent pictures of their unsanctioned vacation to her parents and the Gorilla. They are not so agitated with these pictures showing their kids are safe.

Gabriel orders Gorilla to trace the phone and go pick up Adrien.

Sadly for Gorilla, Marinette and Adrien decide to island hop. The next day, when Gorilla arrives, Adrien sends him a picture from Hawaii.

How did they get enough money? Adrien stole cash, and he does have a credit card.

How did the post resort employees let teenagers rent a room? Trixx is present to disguise them. Marinette would never leave the miraculous box unguarded.

Adrien and Marinette enjoy their time in various countries and regions, always choosing a beach. At one point, they hijacked a cruise ship.

Gorilla is frustrated but he is too far away to be akumatized.

Back at home, Nadja interviews Adrien’s friends who all complain about Gabriel being a controlling jerk.

Gabriel finally sends Adrien a text: Come home now. You can date Miss Dupain Cheng.

Adrien replies: I’m already dating her w/o your approval. I don’t care if you approve.

Gabriel: I will offer her an internship and pay her twice as much as a regular intern. She can work at flexible hours and if she doesn’t want to work at Gabriel, I will offer enough money to start her own business.

Adrien paused. Despite the publicity their stunt was gathering, Adrien knew Nathalie would soon have everything under control. It was better to strike while the iron was hot.

Adrien: Stop threatening me about cutting me off from my friends and school. Drop Lila NOW. Actually get a restraining order for me and Marinette against Lila. And I’ll come home tomorrow.

Gabriel:....Done.

Adrien:....I’m bringing home a hamster. I’m keeping him and his name is Miracle. (There is a photo attached)

The next day, Adrien and Marinette arrive at the airport, having taken a real plane this time. Gabriel assumes Adrien used cash for previous plane tickets.

Nadja reports that Gabriel had been warned about Marinette from Lila. He realizes his mistake and is hosting a party at his mansion for Adrien’s class.

Miracle sleeps in a cage and eats sunflower seeds. Plagg is appeased with exotic cheese because he was getting jealous of a hamster!

At the mansion, Gabriel formally apologies to Marinette and offers her the internship. Marinette is now able to tell her friends she got a summer job. Meanwhile Alya and the others are still looking. Well, except for Kim. He’s teaching Swimming lessons to children. Undine is a lifeguard for the summer. Alya is unhappy that Lila was Gabriel’s spy, who was noticeably not invited. Instead of receiving an invitation, Lila received a warning not to go near Adrien or Marinette, and also, she’s fired from Gabriel.

Lila is hoping for an Akuma but Gabriel is tired of drama and can’t be missed at the party anyway.

At school, Ms Bustier welcomes Adrien and Marinette back. Lila has been transferred to another class because of the restraining order, and Gabriel’s influence.

At lunch, Marinette and Adrien go to a cafe and happily share dessert.

Marinette: this is the best plan you’ve ever had, Adrien.

Adrien: what can I say Milady, I’m a man of infinite wisdom.

Marinette nudges him. “Hardly. But what do you say we drop by Italy tomorrow for lunch? My Nona told me of this amazing pizza place where they sell pizza sandwiches.”

Adrien: “You had me at pizza.”

For the record, there is such a place in Italy where they cut really long pizza into squares/rectangles before flipping them over to make sandwiches. I really want to try another one but I can’t remember the name. Anyone know it?

[missysmadhouse]

The Vampire of Sacramento

Richard Trenton Chase, The Vampire of Sacramento; Photo: Wikipedia

Richard Chase had a distorted, macabre funhouse mirror view of reality. He lived with the delusion that someone stole his pulmonary artery, that the bones of his skull were growing out of the back of his head and that members of his family were plotting his demise. It would be the belief that his blood was disappearing from his body that would cause him to commit murder. Chase believed that ingesting blood would correct his condition - even save him from death. First, he started with animals. When animal blood failed to help, he began to kill human beings.

Richard Chase would terrorize the streets of Sacramento, California from December 1977 to January 1978, which would leave six people dead - including two children.

On December 27, 1977, Ambrose Griffin returned home from grocery shopping with his wife. He went out to the car for one last bag and was shot and killed by Chase, who was driving past the house.

Chase entered the home of Teresa and David Wallin on January 28, 1978. Teresa, age 22 and three months pregnant, had left the door unlocked as she was cleaning the house. Chase shot and killed her. He then proceeded to mutilate and eviscerate her body, leaving a yogurt cup with blood on the bottom near her body. Her husband found her body in the bedroom that night. Teresa's stomach was cut open and a nipple was cut off.

Teresa Wallin; Photo: documentingreality.com

Finding the garage open, Chase entered the home of Evelyn Miroth. A divorced mother of two, Miroth lived with her sons, Vernon (13) and Jason (6). Vernon had already left for school. Miroth's boyfriend Daniel Meredith (50) visited that day while Miroth was babysitting her 22-month-old nephew, Daniel Ferreira. While Meredith and Jason were gone shopping for supplies for an outing with neighbors, Chase broke in and shot and killed Miroth and young David. Meredith and Jason were killed when they returned from the store.

Chase proceeded to mutilate and desecrate Evelyn Miroth's body. Miroth was sodomized both with a knife and by Chase post mortem. David Ferreira was missing when the murders were discovered by neighbors. There was blood near his crib, along with brain matter.

Daniel Ferreira; Photo: thevampirekiller.weebly.com

Jason Miroth; Photo: thevampirekiller.com

Evelyn Miroth; Photo: thevampirekiller.com

Investigaters determined that all of the murders were committed in close proximity of each other with a.22 caliber pistol. Police had only a very basic, common description of a suspect: a white male in his 20's with long hair. Investigaters suspected that the perpetrator lived nearby and began to canvas the area.

Chase's life up until December 1977 had been a rollercoaster of highs and lows with periods of stability, followed by extreme instability. He had a few brushes with the law and spent time in mental institutions. Chase's troubles begin during adolescence.

Richard Chase; Photo: richard-chase.weebly.com

Richard Trenton Chase was born in Sacramento, California on May 23, 1950. During childhood, Chase seemed normal. He participated in Little League and was a Boy Scout. However, his parents, computer specialist Richard Chase Sr. and schoolteacher Beatrice, did not get along. Beatrice accused her husband of cheating on her and abusing drugs. Chase's younger sister, Pamela, described her father as a stern disciplinarian who had no qualms about doling out physical punishment, to his son in particular.

The beginning of Chase's troubles can be traced back to his first arrest for possession of marijuana in 1965. Chase was by all appearances a normal teenager. He had joined Track and Field and began dating. His drug use began around the time that girls who dated him spread stories about Chase's sexual inadequacy. The teenager suffered from erectile dysfunction. Besides marijuana, Chase began using LSD and amphetamines. His demeanor changed as Chase went from neatly groomed to dirty and disheveled. He became irritable and inconsiderate.

Shortly after enrolling in American River College in 1968, he left to start the first of many jobs in the office of the Retailer's Credit Association. He also began seeing a psychiatrist for his erectile dysfunction.

During Chase's adulthood, he would move around from house to house and apartment to apartment. He moved back and forth between his divorced parents in Sacramento, his grandmother in Los Angeles and lived with roommates as well as on his own. His mother would complain about Chase's violent outbursts. His grandmother witnessed him talking to himself and wrapping his head with towels filled with orange slices. His father, in denial of his son's mental illness, thought his son just needed to get a job.

Chase's roommates complained about his constant drug use and extreme paranoia. Chase boarded up his bedroom door and created a hole in the back of the closet for him to come and go through. He also walked around naked in front of female company.

Chase complained about his physical ailments constantly, claiming that his heart was stopping, that he had trouble with his blood circulation and that he had pains in his chest and legs.

Photo: crimemuseum.org

Eventually, Chase's bizarre behavior would cause him to be committed to a couple of mental institutions. He would enter withdrawn and defiant then show a complete turn-around. Upon release, Chase would revert to his former behavior.

After his last release from the Beverly Manor psychiatric institution, his mother decided to take Chase off his medication. She didn't like the "zombielike" effect medication had on her son. Soon after, he went back to taking illegal narcotics.

He had also been arrested for a fight at a friend's party where it was found that Chase was carrying a .22 caliber pistol. He was also arrested in Pyramid Lake, Nevada where he was found running around naked and covered in blood. He had two blood stained guns and a bucket of blood containing a liver that was later determined to come from an animal. He also had his two dogs with him. Chase was released.

Shortly after the investigation began, police received a tip from a high school acquaintance of Richard Chase. Nancy Westfall crossed paths with an unrecognizable Rick Chase, a man who was dirty, disheveled and behaving strangely.

Chase opened the conversation with the bizarre question: "Weren't you on Curt's motorcycle when he was killed?" She said no and asked him who he was. Recognizing the name and not the person, Westfall tried to get away from Chase. He followed her around the store and still tried to talk to her. Chase even followed her into the parking lot and tried to get into her car. Westfall was so creeped and out by Chase that she sped out of the lot.

Westfall's description of Chase piqued Detective Bill Roberts' interest. He decided to pay Chase a visit at his apartment complex on Watt Avenue. However, Chase lived in two different units at the apartment complex, apartment 12, then 15. Detective Roberts had apartment number 12 as his address.

Photo: Murderpedia

Unable to locate Chase, the detective didn't give up. He continued looking deeper into Chase's background and found out about Chase's prior arrests, history of violence and confinement in psychiatric institutions. He also found out about Chase's arrest in Nevada and his current address at apartment 15 on Watt Avenue.

Detectives Roberts, Irey and Baker unsuccessfully tried to get Chase to open the door. They told Chase that they were leaving to get a warrant. Detective Roberts was going into another apartment to call the station to give his superiors an update. Detectives Irey and Baker walked downstairs and waited just out of sight to see if Chase would try to leave.

As Detective Roberts was on the phone, the apartment manager burst in, yelling that his partners needed help. Downstairs, Detective Roberts found that after a scuffle, Detective Baker subdued Chase.

Chase was in possession of the following: a box containing bloody rags and papers, brain matter in an envelope and David Ferreira's diaper pin; Daniel Meredith's wallet, containing the deceased's driver's license and credit cards in his back pocket and a .22 caliber pistol.

Chase's apartment reeked and there was blood everywhere. Pieces of David Ferreira's brain were found in the bedroom, along with feces on the floor and pictures of human internal organs decorating the walls.

Photo: Pinterest

At first, Chase denied having anything to do with the murders. He was interviewed by four psychiatrists to determine whether or not he could be determined "legally insane." However, the legal definition of insanity differs from what the general public would consider insane. If found to be legally sane, Richard Chase would face the death penalty.

All four psychiatrists determined that while Chase was mentally ill, he was cognizant of his actions. Chase understood that murder was wrong.

Eventually Chase broke down and admitted to the murders. He said that he knew it was wrong to kill his victims but saw no other alternative since he was denied medical treatment. Chase saw ingesting blood as a treatment for his imagined disorder. Animal blood didn't work so he decided to resort to killing humans for their blood.

David Ferreira's remains were found in a box by a janitor at Arcade Wesleyan Church on Whitney Avenue in Sacramento (which intersects the street where Chase lived). It was determined that the child was decapitated and his blood and brain were consumed by Chase.

After five hours of deliberation, Chase was found guilty of six counts of murder in the first degree on May 8, 1979. He was sentenced to death one week later.

Before he could face the gas chamber, Chase was found dead in his cell at San Quentin Penitentiary on December 26, 1980. His death was officially determined to be a suicide. Chase overdosed on an antidepressant, Sinequan, which he was hoarding instead of taking.

- Missy Dawn

Sources:

"Vampire: The Richard Chase Murders," by Kevin Sullivan, published by Wild Blue Press, 2014.

Articles on crimemuseum.org and Murderpedia.

[brandingexpert]

Branding Studio For Growth

Working with Bethany made the creation of our new website such a fun and exciting project. She is very organized and ensured smooth communication throughout the whole project. She is also a very intuitive designer, and managed to visually translate our branding studio spirit perfectly. The team of BMRTN + Citizen was essential in helping us translate a major organizational pivot into updated brand positioning. Thanks to this team https://craftandroot.com/ we preserved the best of our brand and maintained the trust and support of our partners during a time of major organizational change. Communication so simple, it makes people fall in love with the brands created here. We partnered with Pinterest Business to create a website that’s as useful and engaging as their platform, while helping to tailor their new branding for the digital space.

Twenty Four 7 was tapped to augment research, synthesize data and outline a strategic plan. We weren’t given a tangible deliverable like a retail experience design, or brand framework, or roadmap for marketing – though we did all of those things. We were asked to re-think their position in the marketplace and light a path to success. Websites and web applications evolve with business needs, long past their original launch. We stick by our clients for the long haul to help them get the most out of their digital projects.

We are Daylight, a digital firm specializing in the design and development of unique, results-driven experiences. Our expertise and collaborative approach to working with our customers delivers products that exceed expectations.

Independently define and direct creative workflow and creative project process across organization. Proactively assess, refine and optimize processes on a continual basis to ensure project and team success. Suzie has done award-winning work for global brands like AT&T, Holland America Line, Microsoft, Starbucks, Vail Resorts and others.

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Our sights are set on strategy, design, storytelling, and creating an impact. Lifestyle brands to tech, startups to venture capitalists, professional services to professional sports—we dig down to build up.

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Every touch point is covered in order to create a complete brand experience that satisfies and delights your consumer. Once we understand exactly who your customer is and what they want, we find a way to turn your brand into an experience that will not only satisfy but that will delight your consumer.

Our branding services, coaching, workshops and DIY tools and resources help you launch, grow or pivot your business. Our focus is giving you what you need to be a successful, thriving business that supports your values. That's what it felt like when Anna asked us to help her reposition her coaching business and align her branding and messaging with her renewed focus. As a Three Principles Coach, Anna speaks the same high-vibe language we do, and we share the belief that fulfillment comes when you tap into your truth to serve your greatest purpose. As in coaching, our process always begins with a discovery session to determine a client's needs and goals. In addition to a full website redesign with new icons and infographics, sales + outreach tools, copywriting and a lead magnet.

She has served as an instructor of copywriting, design and creative concepts at Seattle’s School of Visual Concepts. Suzie also serves on the board or in an advisory role with the American Parkinson Disease Association, Campaign for Female Education, Boys & Girls Clubs of America and others. In concert with empowering future generations, we also invest in women and minority led businesses. With our incubator and accelerator program, TF7 offers its expertise in business strategy and brand marketing to support the severely underserved communities in the start-up world. This work contributes directly to individual entrepreneurs, VC’s or non-profit organizations focused on serving this community. This year is different though, and brands won’t be able to employ the same marketing strategies as in years past to engage customers. This year requires an approach that is deeply connected, authentic, and thoughtfully responsive to consumer needs during a time when nothing is status quo.

We also helped Anna with her email marketing and a curated look for her social media feed. We create brands and we tell stories that are as unique and powerful as you are.

Xo Agency

In 2016, Ali followed her passion for small business and obsession with design, and founded Amari Creative. Two years later, she brought on Rachel as the Copy + Content Creator, adding a whole new (and highly requested!) aspect to the business. Since the inception of Amari, we’ve worked with hundreds of small businesses and solopreneurs to build effective, striking brands. It does not matter if you sell a product, heavy-duty equipment or a hotel room what the consumer wants is an experience.

They have an incredible design aesthetic, which has led to a great new look that we’re thrilled about. From tech and usability, to design and branding, Studio Misfits are a top-notch team. DBC is a branding agency that infuses design with data to solve complex communication issues. Treebird occupies a modern, industrial space on Atlanta’s Westside where locomotive horns punctuate branding projects and visitors are always welcome. To us, branding is an investment into your company and your customers experience. We are a full service branding studio in Charlotte, NC that works with businesses who are passionate about craft & cuisine. We specialize in logo design, crafting full brand identities & producing smaller design projects like packaging, menus, catalogs & other print collateral.

Whether you’re a start-up or established business, we deliver a uniquely ownable story that can be easily translated across all brand touchpoints. Shelf helps you stand out from the pack™, by combining data-driven strategic insights and consumer-centric design principles. Character is a branding and design agency with studios in New York and San Francisco. M studio creates purpose-driven strategy, branding and communications for a worldwide audience. Caliber Creative is an independent,full-servicebranding agency specializing in cultivating brand experiences from initial concept strategy through final design execution. Manifesto is a creative branding and strategy agency that transforms beliefs into authentic behavior through the power of culturally disruptive ideas.

Now that you’ve established what you are delivering and when it’s time to get to know the organization you’re branding. Ask for copies of any marketing and branding strategy materials they’ve already developed. You’ll need everything from their mission and values to target market demographics. If your client doesn’t have much of this you can conduct interviews and surveys to suss out what makes them unique. Some companies provide just a few of these services and it is totally fine.

We use provocative design, communications, events and social media content that commands attention and creates buzz in order to put your brand at the top of the consumer’s mind. The brand refresh has made social and print media more streamline and simple with go-to designs. I feel like my business now has a more professional and clean branding image.

It had more cranes in the sky than any other U.S. city, fastest growing home prices in the country, the second most popular city for immigrants, and six-figure job openings – many with six-figure salaries. The landscape – both physical and figurative – was changing daily. In the midst of this boom, Seattle Metropolitan Credit Union began a brand audit that would change the trajectory of the company.

the visual designer and illustrator behind Spark & Bloom. I collaborate with small business owners and entrepreneurs to create brand identities that make a positive impact.

Oregon Lane Studio creates visual brands and beautiful custom Showit websites for passionate business owners ready to reach a new level and spark incredible growth. As a creative business owner, trying to stand out in a crowded market is a huge challenge, but it doesn’t have to be. With a clean and professional design that lights you up and makes you so excited about your brand, you can present yourself as the expert you are. Knowing that your brand visuals are sharing your business even when you’re not in the room. Whether you’re a start-up brand or a seasoned entrepreneur, you know how important it is to get your branding right.

Whenever a potential customer encounters you, they should feel like they are talking directly to you. Your brand is an extension of who you are and what you want to be known for. We create brands that look and sound like you and speak directly to the people or companies you want to work with. DesignGood is a full-service, high-vibe design and branding studio that helps you build your business and brand around the life you want to live.

Proven experience managing complex projects with multiple deliverables and tight timelines. Facilitate internal meetings, negotiate conflicts, build up teams and group dynamics, and enable creative thought processes and strategy. Provide structure around disciplines where needed.

From strategy to identity and beyond, we are your dedicated partner across the entire branding journey. We listen, observe, research, and collaborate with our clients every step of the way to guarantee authentic results. If your brand is ready to make a change, we are here to guide you through it. No matter where you are right now, working with DesignGood will help you create the vision of where you are headed and give you the tools and resources to get you there. We help you pinpoint your audience, spotlight your expertise and establish your business as the go-to source for whatever you're creating in the world.

If you’re ready to feel empowered with a new visual identity that not only accurately reflects your business and brand aspirations, but also resonates with your desired audience too, you’re in the right place. The importance of branding is often overlooked by most companies. As discussed in this article from The New York Times, “A brand is a company’s face to the world.” At Level8 we take that very seriously. Detail-oriented, proactive and a protector of both the creative and the creative process with an eye on the budget, timeline, team, vendor relationships, and production partnerships.

A boldly artistic creative studio specializing in branding and web design. At Studio Brand, we know that our success depends on the success of our clients' campaigns, and ultimately their business. This is why we've pooled a talented team of creatives and analytics who are laser-focused on being great at what they do. We treat our clients' business like it's our own and work tirelessly to ensure we are bringing value to each marketing dollar we spend. A wide range of a-la-carte graphic design services can be added on to the main packages. We will happily curate a custom combination for you! Brand Labs provides entrepreneurs, small business owners, and independent designers with the tools to help objectively build a foundational brand strategy.

In our opinion, for digital products, the bare minimum would be a visual identity and marketing website. On the projects I collaborate with some extraordinary and talented people and as a result branding.studio continuously delivers extraordinarily. Make your brand well defined with solid structure, engaging personality and beautiful visual assets. Our minimal, reductive style of design allows clients to create clarity and transform their brands into powerful assets.

By doing so, we've made some good friends along the way. Technology is really the story of our future, and it’s a story we love to uncover here at Incubate. I love rounding projects out with gorgeous printed goods, and professional designed websites. This ensures the whole package - your entire brand experience - is a cohesive journey.

[wistcrias-arch2]

a little meta on how I see cady: I think, after watching a boot with danielle wade (my main cady inspo) as cady, I have a bunch of thoughts about how I view and write cady. I guess I’ll start with sorting her. cady is definitely a slytherin, simply put. I do want to take the deeper hogwarts sorting quiz for her, because I feel like her values are gryffindor, but the way she approaches them ( her secondary house ) is slytherin. outside of that quiz, though, she is definitely a slytherin if I had to choose!I think she is cunning in the sense of like... being able to view the world the way she was raised, in that everything is an eco-system and has a hierarchy. cady does value community, and though she’s not as fiercely loyal as slytherins can be for their own in the musical, I don’t think we had a chance to see it, which I’ll touch on later. 

cady’s also achievement-oriented, and while she’d like to play fair ( burned hufflepuff possibly? ) when the going gets touch, she’s not above resorting to less than palatable means. but as we saw in the mathletes competition, cady loves winning, and she loves being on top, but I think though her natural inclination is to be like the predators she was surrounded with most of her life, her heart and mind want her to be better and go against that instinct and try to play fair. to be better than an animal, in a sense. or, regina, if you want to be clever about it. she wants to win the competition, but not by squashing another girl’s self-esteem for no reason. this doesn’t even speak to slytherin, in my opinion, honestly, because she really doesn’t benefit by bringing someone else down? like the musical tells us: you’re not smarter for having called someone else dumb. but that’s just how cady sees it; someone else might think they benefit by doing that.

I do think cady’s also very ambitious, but here’s where danielle’s portrayal really takes route in how I write cady. danielle’s cady has a lot more anxiousness and a kind of... desperation and longing to fit in and be liked than erika’s. erike’s in my opinion is more relaxed, and catches onto things quicker. her decisions seem to be more voluntary and earnest, whereas I feel like with danielle’s she’s at first pressured into doing things because she wants to be liked and accepted. her distress is evident in where do you belong, and so is her anxiety. I feel like a lot of her actions are impulsive, and in a sense... immature, because if you think about it, cady hasn’t had much social interaction at all. she’s a child in that sense, and learns based off what she sees. like many primates do, the people she surrounds herself with become her identity to a degree. she learns revenge from janice, and she learns what makes you powerful at school through regina. it’s a very human, and natural thing to do. and it does, make her cunning and ambitious, or rather, it brings those things out that I think are in all of us to a degree. 

it’s only when we get to the end of the musical that we can start to really see who the real cady is. she is ambitious and clever, but she also wants to be kind and wants to be accepting and better than her base self. she’s also still trying to figure out who she is and what she believes in. and for someone who’s experiencing such immense culture shock, puberty, and public school for the first time, let alone trying to navigate complex relationship dynamics, you can’t really blame her not fully knowing better. and to her credit, she does take accountability. and while regina tells her not to apologize for things that aren’t her fault (which is good advice), cady’s apologies are heartfelt and unlike regina, she doesn’t see them as a way to weaken yourself, but rather a strength. regina also uses the “if i was a guy itd be different” explanation/excuse and “don’t be sorry” stuff in a not so great way, but that’s a meta for another day. 

and another thing: cady is new to all of this western world stuff, so when internalized misogyny plays a role in the dynamics between women in adolescence, since she has nothing to relate it to in her life, she relates it to the only thing she possibly can: something that a lot of people do. for her, that’s her life back in africa, again. it’s the only way this could make sense for her. and because of that, I think she feels less guilty about all the actions she had to take, because if we’re going off an eco-system, that’s just the way the world works. natural selection and the more “fit” animal comes out on top. but they’re not animals. and when cady tries to justify being “the good guy” she realizes how messed up everything’s gotten, and she realizes that she’s a person, and so is regina, and so is janice. and she has to –– must –– be better than that. she has to be fearless. 

[stories-you-wont-hear]

– precedence. pt 1

hey everybody! it’s ya girl! back at it again! with a new story! in lieu of the final part of due process! i swear it is slowly coming together, but i want to be able to do justice to the characters in the story and give them an ending that’s neither cotton candy and butterflies nor... slushy snow and subway rats (does my idea of the bad end of things give away where i’m from lol).

 aNyWaY here is part one to what will mostly likely be a mini series/prequel to due process in which we find out why y/n is the way she is and how billy came into her life. 

bear in mind that this is the same reader from due process, but i don’t think you have to read due process to understand things here, however certain characters will cross over. i hope you all enjoy this, and please give me love! it is so difficult to find motivation to write things when no one pays any attention. i know i write for myself, and for the fun of it, but it can be tough TT enjoy! xoxo mira

   ___________________________________________________________

There was a special place in hell for the person who decided Latin would be so heavily incorporated into the American legal system. Was English not enough? You secretly figured the people who set up this whole shebang got into a pissing contest with each other and resorted to using fancy Latin phrases to try and one up each other, and as a result, you were sitting at your desk and poring over legal Latin phrases.

You were not about to be the next associate fired for fudging up Latin in a brief that ended up being presented in court by a senior partner, who got an earful from the judge and ended up losing the hearing on a matter of technical wording. That day had been about two weeks ago and since then, every single associate at your firm, Wesley King Randall, had been brushing up on terminology. 

Every free moment was spent scanning through reference books and a study guide someone had made, and all that was saying a lot since associates at any big law firm barely had time to breathe. From the corner of your eye, you saw one of the name partners making their way towards the area where the associates were situated and you quickly slipped the papers you had been studying from into your bag and turned to the papers on research about property law. Apparently not everyone had sensed the shift in the air as several other associates still had out their Latin books. 

“Didn’t you bumbling toddlers learn what mens rea means in whatever law school your daddies bought your way into?” the woman said as she walked through the playpen of associates, causing a wave of frazzled yuppies to quickly shut their books and turn towards the woman who would fire each and every one of them without a moment’s hesitation. 

“A guilty mind,” one particular young associate said. Big mistake. 

“Is that what your copy of Legalese for Dummies says?” she replied, eyes piercing through the man who had had the audacity to reply to her. The poor kid was now probably kicking himself for not interning at Landman and Zack. You sucked in your breath, unsure what his fate would be until another man walked towards the bullpen area.

 “Eva, you came to choose an associate, not to choose a lamb to slaughter,” Richard Wesley said, his teeth sparkling as he came in, shaking his head as if to admonish the woman with whom he shared the name of the firm. 

“It’s not my fault they’re all sheep,” she replied back bitterly, her mood seeming to worsen with the addition of her colleague.

 “How about Monty?” Richard suggested, gesturing towards William Montgomery Jr., who immediately stood up when his name was called. “I’d prefer someone who won’t call me a frigid bitch behind me back, Dick,” Eva deflected. Monty's face immediately reddened as Eva reiterated the words he had used to describe her last week at an associate's happy hour outing.

"The walls have ears, Mr. Montgomery," Eva cautioned, her eyes scanning the faces of the associates, who were all probably trying to hide either their fear or their contempt of the female third of the law firm.

Eva King was many things. She was poised, she was ruthless, and she did not give a shit what people thought of her. And now, Eva King was looking directly at you. "You," she said, and you immediately rose up, hand reaching for your bag without a word as she beckoned for you. Eva turned to leave without so much as another word, but you caught the look Richard Wesley was giving the rest of the associates, namely the male associates in front of him.

It was a look that was meant to pacify them. It wasn't that they weren’t worthy, Eva chose you because you were a woman. At least, that's what those man-babies would tell themselves as they nursed top shelf liquor tonight after work. It was the same reason why Richard Wesley doubted your ability even though you had just wrangled a property case for him just last month.

"I don't have time to coddle you," Eva said as you followed her through the firm, heading for the elevator. "I don't need you to," you replied, stepping into the enclosed space behind her. "That's what I like to hear," she said, granting you a look that was probably as close to warm as she could get.

"You were the one who figured out that clever little loophole in the Grant case will, weren't you?" she asked after a moment of silence. You attempted to pull back at the grin that wanted to pop up on your face, it was the very case Richard Wesley had taken as a favor for an old family friend, making sure that man would get every pretty penny from his grandmother's will. It was also the case that some second year associate had gotten the credit for just because he was being groomed for Wesley's good old boy club. Yet, Eva King knew what you had done. You had barely had a conversation since you started here three years ago, but she knew about you.

"Yes," you replied, hoping your faux indifferent tone was masking the fact that you were internally jumping for joy. "Don't be humble," Eva insisted, "Every goddamn thing you do here, you write your name in big bold letters on. You don't do that and some ass with a trust fund is going to write his own name on it." You attempted to take in her words as the elevator dinged, marking your arrival to the third and most prestigious floor of the firm.

The desk at reception was marked with the names of the partners in silver lettering and the woman behind it stood up as the both of you stepped off the elevator. "Mr. Russo from Anvil is already waiting in your office, Ms. King," the receptionist called as Eva brushed past her. "Of course he is," Eva muttered under her breath, heading towards her office.

"Stay sharp," was all that Eva supplied before she stepped into her office to find the man you presumed to be Mr. Russo going through the books she had arranged on the bookshelf behind her couch. You could've sworn that her office was probably just as big as your apartment, her desk facing away from the lounge area each name partner had in their office. Eva's was tastefully done, and was as chic as she was. "I think this Camus guy is pretty bleak, don't ya think?" were his first words as he turned towards the two of you, holding up a copy of The Stranger. "Sorry, I'll have Forrest Gump playing for you the next time you visit, Mr. Russo," Eva responded.

The man, who you couldn't help but ogle, was dressed impeccably in a suit you had worked long enough at this firm to know was worth your entire month's paycheck. "Billy Russo," he said, putting the book back on the shelf to step towards you, his movements precise as he offered his hand to you. You shook it, hoping you weren't still ogling him. "Y/N Y/L/N," you supplied.

"Have a seat, Mr. Russo, Y/N," Eva chimed, waiting until the both of you sat before she took a seat a few feet from you on the couch. "What's going on, Russo?" she asked almost immediately. Eva certainly did not beat around the bush, even with clients. "How I love your hospitality," Billy commented with a chuckle. "Can I get you anything?" Eva said exasperatedly.

"Just some fine legal counsel," Billy quipped back as you looked between the two of them. You had always seen Eva as a powerhouse, not taking shit from anyone, but this kind of exchange was almost like banter. You were seeing a new side of her.

"Well, it's a good thing you came to a law firm, isn't it?" Eva shot back, but this time with the tiniest of smiles. "I hear you lot are pretty decent, any truth to that?" he said, this time directing his playful quip at you. "That suit you're wearing isn't cheap, and neither are we," you responded.

"I like her," Billy said, turning to face Eva, who was nodding at you with a look of approval. "So do I," she began, avoiding eye contact with you as she said so, "And she's right. So we can keep making small talk for as long as you want, Billy." Billy smirked, and you knew he had the pockets to keep you and Eva here all day if he wanted. You certainly didn't mind the view.

"What was that joke?" Billy began, "What's the difference between a good lawyer and a bad lawyer? A bad lawyer can drag a case out for a year and a good lawyer..." "A good lawyer can make it last even longer," you offered. "Bingo!" Billy grinned. Eva's expression turned to one of weariness, and you cleared your throat, not wanting her to regret her choice.

"Sorry, Eva," Billy sighed, "I just can't help myself around beautiful women." His grin was wide as he leaned back against the arm chair he had chosen to sit in, and suddenly his face clicked. You had seen him in the papers and perhaps once or twice in the office on the rare occasion you had to visit the third floor. He was the CEO of some private military firm and had deep enough pockets to keep Wesley King Randall on as legal counsel. "Try," Eva replied dryly.

Billy's entire demeanor changed within seconds, sitting up and dropping the grin in exchange for an intense look as he pointed towards the file on the coffee table. "This is a contract that I made with a domestic company to provide accommodations to my men out in Iraq. They're set to go weeks from now, and then this son of-" Eva cleared her throat, raising her brow at him as she leafed through the papers. "Sorry," Billy mumbled, before shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts.

"Now they're telling me they can't provide me the service, and I've got men going out there with no place to go," he continued. "They called you and told you that?" Eva asked, her eyes scanning the pages in front of her. "Yeah, the guy didn't even have the balls to tell it to my face. Let me tell you what I would've done if he had had the gall to walk into my office and tell me that." "Please," Eva cut in again, "If it's not legal, don't tell me." Billy sighed, shrugging his shoulders a bit. He looked tense, his concern for the people who worked for him apparent.

"Fair enough," he sighed. "I just don't want my men out in the cold." You nodded sympathetically, eyes turning to Eva who had set the contract back down on the table. "Does this have anything to do with the fact that the wife of this company's CEO was the one you were laying it on at the gala last weekend? she asked coolly. Billy froze, the epiphany he was having drawing a a slow nod as Eva spoke. "I didn't know that was her!" he cried, "And I can't help it if my natural state of being is pure charm." Eva scoffed, and even you couldn't help but chuckle in reply to that comment.

"What am I supposed to do now? Wait until my men are out there without so much as a roof over their heads?" he said, turning back into serious Billy.

"It's an anticipatory breach," you spoke up, looking up at Billy. Eva nodded in agreement, her eyes on you as you spoke. "You don't have to wait to take legal action until they actually breach the contract. He already told you that they can't honor their part of the agreement. That in turn will affect your ability to complete the job your company was hired for. They could be held liable not just for what you paid them, but for the entire contract."

Billy turned to look back at Eva, who sat up straight, her expression unable to hide the fact that she was pleased with you. "That's right," she agreed, "We can hold them as liable before they actually breach. Do you have proof that he called and stated that on the phone?" Billy nodded, explaining that he'd need to get the recording of the call from the secretary who kept those sort of logs.

"Great," Eva said, standing up to follow Billy's movements as you did the same. "Get that to me and I'll have his head on a platter for you," she said as she began to walk him out. "Thank you, Eva," Billy said, tipping his head in thanks. "And thank you, Y/N," he said with one of those smiles. "It's my job, Mr. Russo," you replied. With that, he was off and you wondered if Eva wanted you in her office as she had taken a seat at her desk.

"Should I-" you began until she gestured for you to take a seat across from her. "You did good," she praised, and for a moment, you wondered if you were in a dream. Eva King, the woman who all the associates called an ice queen, was praising you while you sat in her office. "But you have to be the best," she continued, her eyes set on you. You tried to maintain eye contact, but her gaze was too intense and your eyes dropped to your lap. "I'm serious, Y/N, you have potential," she said, a bit gentler this time. You nodded, thanking her for the opportunity as you sensed it was time for you to return to your regular old cubicle three floors down. "And," Eva called as you got to the door, "Next time don't make it so obvious that you're ogling him."

  ___________________________________________________________

and boom! so that was mainly to introduce the story and the characters and of course, billy. let me know what you think and i hope to have the next part of this as well as the last part to due process out soon. much love, mira

[newstfionline]

Headlines

The Covid-19 economic shock (NYT) The economy’s recovery from the fastest, deepest recession in U.S. history is likely to be a long, grinding affair. More than $6.5 trillion in household wealth vanished during the first three months of this year as the pandemic tightened its hold on the global economy, the Federal Reserve said this week. That’s roughly equivalent to the economies of the United Kingdom and France combined. “This is the biggest economic shock in the U.S. and in the world, really, in living memory,” Fed Chair Jerome H. Powell said Wednesday. “We went from the lowest level of unemployment in 50 years to the highest level in close to 90 years, and we did it in two months.” Almost 90 percent of the 20 million workers who lost their jobs in April said they had been laid off temporarily and expected to return to their jobs, a possible sign the economy might quickly return to normal. Yet economists are far less sanguine. After a quick initial bounce this year, the economy “will go largely sideways” until a coronavirus vaccine is developed, according to economist Mark Zandi of Moody’s Analytics.

Tenants behind on rent in pandemic face harassment, eviction (AP) Jeremy Rooks works the evening shift at a Georgia fast-food restaurant these days to avoid being on the street past dusk. He needs somewhere to go at night: He and his wife are homeless after the extended-stay motel where they had lived since Thanksgiving evicted them in April when they couldn’t pay their rent. They should have been protected because the state’s Supreme Court has effectively halted evictions due to the coronavirus pandemic. But Rooks said the owner still sent a man posing as a sheriff’s deputy, armed with a gun, to throw the couple out a few days after rent was due. The pandemic has shut housing courts and prompted most states and federal authorities to initiate policies protecting renters from eviction. But not everyone is covered and a number of landlords—some desperate to pay their mortgages themselves—are turning to threats and harassment to force tenants out. The evictions threaten to exacerbate a problem that has plagued people of color like Rooks long before the pandemic, when landlords across the U.S. were filing about 300,000 eviction requests every month. The data and analytics real estate firm Amherst projects that 28 million renters, or about 22.5% of all households, are at risk of eviction.

Pandemic leads to a bicycle boom, and shortage, around the world (AP) Fitness junkies locked out of gyms, commuters fearful of public transit, and families going stir crazy inside their homes during the coronavirus pandemic have created a boom in bicycle sales unseen in decades. In the United States, bicycle aisles at mass merchandisers like Walmart and Target have been swept clean, and independent shops are doing a brisk business and are selling out of affordable “family” bikes. Bicycle sales over the past two months saw their biggest spike in the U.S. since the oil crisis of the 1970s, said Jay Townley, who analyzes cycling industry trends at Human Powered Solutions. The trend is mirrored around the globe, as cities better known for car-clogged streets, like Manila and Rome, install bike lanes to accommodate surging interest in cycling while public transport remains curtailed.

Mexico desperate to reopen 11 million-job tourism industry (AP) An irony of the coronavirus pandemic is that the idyllic beach vacation in Mexico in the brochures really does exist now: The white sand beaches are sparkling clean and empty on the Caribbean coast, the water is clear on the Pacific coast and the waters around the resort of Los Cabos are teeming with fish after 10 weeks with no boats going out. There are two-for-one deals and very eager staff. It’s all only an airline flight—and a taxi ride, and a reception desk—away, and that’s the problem. There are a number of ways to think about it: Might it be safer to travel than stay home? How much is mental health worth, and, if people are going to socially distance anyway, why not do it in a beautiful, isolated place? On the other hand, despite the pandemic, flights are often crowded, even hotels in Mexico that bend over backward to disinfect everything have little capacity to actually test their employees, and while fellow guests are likely to be few and far between, they also probably won’t be wearing masks. In Quintana Roo state, where Cancun is located, tourism is the only industry there is, and Cancun is the only major Mexican resort to reopen so far. Mexico’s tourism income crashed in April, when it was only 6.3% of what it was one year ago. Hundreds of thousands of hotel rooms were closed. Tourism provides 11 million jobs, directly or indirectly in Mexico, and many of those workers were simply sent home to wait it out.

Top US diplomat finds virtual path into Venezuela amid rift (AP) A year after shutting down the U.S. Embassy in Caracas, Washington’s top diplomat in Venezuela has found a way to slip back inside the South American nation—at least virtually. Each Thursday afternoon, James Story hits the “Go Live” button on Facebook from his office in the U.S. Embassy in Bogota or his home in the Colombian capital hundreds of miles from Caracas. In a freewheeling approach, he answers questions in fluent Spanish from Venezuelans and the few U.S. citizens still in the country, addressing the latest intrigue and turmoil bubbling over in Venezuela and the United States. For 30 minutes, Story talks about everything from Venezuela’s purchases of gasoline from Iran, despite its vast oil reserves, to recent unrest in the U.S. over George Floyd’s death in police custody to accusations that President Nicolás Maduro is undermining Venezuela’s constitution. Story’s low-budget, weekly question-and-answer session on the popular social media platform is a way for Story to get his message out since he’s deprived of traditional tools such as visiting hospitals and schools, talking to local reporters and hosting cocktail parties for power brokers.

Colombia’s confirmed coronavirus cases rise above 50,000 (Reuters) Reported coronavirus cases in Colombia have risen to over 50,000, the country’s health ministry said on Sunday, as neighboring Ecuador approaches the same milestone. The disease overwhelmed Ecuador’s health system, in some cases leaving authorities unable to collect the bodies of the deceased and forcing the government to temporarily store corpses in refrigerated shipping containers. Colombia’s economy has been battered by the twin ills of a coronavirus quarantine put in place by President Ivan Duque and falling oil prices.

Europe’s borders reopen but long road for tourism to recover (AP) Borders opened up across Europe on Monday after three months of coronavirus closures that began chaotically in March. But many restrictions persist, it’s unclear how keen Europeans will be to travel this summer and the continent is still closed to Americans, Asians and other international tourists. Border checks for most Europeans were dropped overnight in Germany, France and elsewhere, nearly two weeks after Italy opened its frontiers. The European Union’s 27 nations, as well as those in the Schengen passport-free travel area, which also includes a few non-EU nations such as Switzerland, aren’t expected to start opening to visitors from outside the continent until at least the beginning of next month, and possibly later.

Surveillance tech (Worldcrunch) Following pushback from Black Lives Matter activists, Amazon has suspended police use of its facial recognition software for one year. IBM followed suit, also announcing it will stop offering its similar software for “mass surveillance or racial profiling.” But the moves come amid a tumultuous few months for so-called “surveillance tech,” which some have touted during the pandemic as a necessary tool to ensure public cooperation to stem the spread of a deadly virus. Despite the potential medical benefits, the use of geolocation technology to curb COVID-19 has raised concerns over fundamental data protection, especially in countries like China, South Korea and Israel where tracking has been more intrusive: enlisting credit card records for purchase patterns, GPS data for travel patterns, and security-camera footage for verification. In Russia, the pandemic proved a convenient excuse to test a nascent, China-inspired citizen monitoring system, backed by a Moscow court ruling in early March stating that the city’s facial recognition system does not violate the privacy of its citizens. Even places not particularly known for their police state-like tactics are pushing limits: In Paris, cameras were installed at the popular Châtelet metro station to monitor mask use, as it is illegal to take public transportation without a mask. Similar (and seemingly well-intentioned) efforts like fast-tracked coronavirus data collection apps have raised suspicions of data protection breaches by both hackers and governments, including in the Netherlands and South Africa. In Germany, a country known for its hard stance on privacy protection, new surveillance tools are being met with a considerable amount of defiance.

American sentenced to 16 years in Russia on spying charges (AP) A Russian court on Monday sentenced an American businessman to 16 years in prison on spying charges, a sentence that he and his brother rejected as being political. The Moscow City Court read out the conviction of Paul Whelan on charges of espionage and sentenced him to 16 years in a maximum security prison colony. The trial was held behind closed doors. Whelan, who was arrested in Moscow in December 2018, has insisted on his innocence, saying he was set up. Speaking after the verdict, U.S. Ambassador John Sullivan denounced the secret trial in which no evidence was produced as an egregious violation of human rights and international legal norms. He described Whelan’s conviction as a mockery of justice and demanded his immediate release.

For Migrants in Russia, Virus Means No Money to Live and No Way to Leave (NYT) Migrant workers from Central Asia, shrugging off the risk of coronavirus infection, have gathered in groups each day outside their countries’ embassies in Moscow, banging on doors and fences and shouting for officials to come out and tell them when they can finally get on a charter flight home. With regular flights canceled, charters offer the only feasible way out for the more than five million migrant workers from former Soviet republics now stranded in Russia as a result of the pandemic, with many living in increasingly dire circumstances. While Russia has been battered by the virus, with the third most cases in the world after the United States and Brazil, the crisis has hit migrant workers especially hard, as they were the first to lose their jobs and often the last to receive medical help. Many have no money for food and, once infected with the coronavirus, have been left in crowded dorms to fight the disease by themselves. Many would like to return to their countries. But they can’t. Before the pandemic hit, more than 15 flights left Moscow each day for various cities in Uzbekistan, Central Asia’s most populous nation. Today, there are only two charters a week, and the embassy’s waiting list has more than 80,000 names.

Press freedom in the Philippines (Foreign Policy) The journalist Maria Ressa, the founder of news site Rappler, has been found guilty of criminal libel by a Manila court in a case Human Rights Watch described as a “devastating blow” to press freedom in the Philippines under President Rodrigo Duterte. Ressa and another Rappler journalist, Reynaldo Santos Jr., were sentenced to up to six years in prison under the country’s cybercrime prevention act of 2012, which includes libel. The article that was deemed libelous predated the law, but a later online update of a typo was enough for prosecutors to consider it worthy of an indictment.

18 dead, 189 hurt as tanker truck explodes on China highway (AP) A tanker truck exploded on a highway in southeastern China on Saturday, killing 18 people and injuring at least 189 others, authorities said. The explosion caused extensive damage to nearby buildings. One photo showed firefighters hosing down a row of buildings with blown-out facades well into the night. The truck carrying liquefied gas exploded around 4:45 p.m. on the Shenyang-Haikou Expressway south of Shanghai in Zhejiang province, the official Xinhua News Agency said, citing local authorities.

Hong Kong families, fearing a reign of terror, prepare to flee the city (Washington Post) China’s Communist Party has haunted Leung’s family for generations. Her father, Guo Yao, fled forced labor and the violent purges of the Cultural Revolution for a better life in Hong Kong, where he arrived with his wife in 1973 to find relative freedom and prosperity. Now, 17 years after the death of her father, Leung is preparing to flee Hong Kong. A new law approved by the Communist Party to take effect this summer will allow China’s powerful state security agencies to operate in the territory, paving the way for political purges and intimidation of government critics by secret police. Officials are pushing to impose party propaganda in schools. With their political freedoms deteriorating, nurses, lawyers, business people and other skilled workers are rushing to renew documents that could provide a pathway to residency in Britain, or finding ways to emigrate to Taiwan, Canada or Australia. Applications for police certificates required to emigrate soared almost 80 percent to nearly 21,000 in the latter half of 2019 from a year earlier, even before the advent of the security law, coinciding with a crackdown on pro-democracy protests. Animal rescue groups have reported an increase in surrendered dogs as their owners leave Hong Kong. Protesters fearing persecution have sought refuge in Germany, the Netherlands and United States. The exodus of talent recalls the pre-handover years, when anxiety over Beijing’s rule drove tens of thousands of people out of Hong Kong.

Netanyahu turns to rich friend to fund corruption trial fees (AP) Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu is on trial for accepting gifts from wealthy friends. But that has not stopped him from seeking another gift from a wealthy friend to pay for his multimillion-dollar legal defense. The awkward arrangement opens a window into the very ties with billionaire friends that plunged Netanyahu into legal trouble and sheds light on the intersection of money and Israeli politics. Netanyahu has asked an Israeli oversight committee to allow a 10 million shekel ($2.9 million) donation from Spencer Partrich, a Michigan-based real estate magnate, to fund his legal defense. The request for financial aid from a friend is not illegal, and Israeli politicians have a long tradition of hobnobbing with wealthy Jewish supporters abroad. But to some, the optics of Netanyahu’s request are sketchy. “It is a problem that we have prime ministers who have ties to moguls,” said Tomer Naor, of the Movement for Quality Government in Israel, a good governance group. “When the borders blur, you are blinded by the big money. You want more of it. Then all of a sudden the friend asks for a little favor and that poses a problem.”

Nigeria attacks (Foreign Policy) At least 141 people were killed in two militant attacks in Northern Nigeria over the weekend, both have been claimed by Islamic State West Africa Province. The attacks in Monguno and Nganzai districts of Borno state killed at least 60 people, while a separate attack in Gabio district killed at least 81. The United Nations, which has a humanitarian base in Monguno, said it was “appalled” by the attacks.