#very lucky i started feeling better in time to work on these two essays

[coconut-window]

what if i didnt constantly have to stay up all night writing essays

[silverislander]

prof said congrats for writing up a proposal so early i am going to get a good grade in. well this is literally going to be graded. but yk the meme

[makeilayee]

Essay #4

I think I am most proud of my attitude towards life itself. Throughout my limited time on earth I think I have gained a good understanding of my core self including my values and morals and overall outlook on life.

I grew up and am very privileged but my parents raised me in a way that allowed me to understand and realize this privilege. They raised me by example. My parents are kind, giving, hardworking, welcoming, and selfless. Watching them live their life with these characteristics showed me the true impact. My parents also made the decision to move me to a Mandarin Immersion School so as a result my childhood was shaped by the ideals and customs of Chinese culture. So, as I grew up I continued to embody these traits even when I moved back for high school. I think my biggest time of reflection was during quarantine. I had struggled to make friends before so during quarantine my friends were confined to my sister and my parents. I grappled with the idea that I didn’t have friends outside of my family. I found it difficult to be satisfied with what I had. My outlet was working out, improving my eating habits, and improving my relationship with God. I worked out every morning, I made smoothies, oatmeal, salmon bowls, and chicken dishes, and I cut out chips and fries and soda. I prayed everyday relaying my feelings to God in hopes that things would get better. As time went on, I became used to the life on my own. I found joy in my morning jogs, the fresh air, and family movie nights. I became okay with my own self, my own thoughts, and my own being. I grew physically and mentally. When school started, things did get better in the way I wished it to. I went back to school a new person and made new friends. I found a group. This was what I wanted. I thought this would make me happy. Later on I would realize, that there is no such thing as absolute happiness only contentment.

My high school experience was definitely not a typical one. My school is predominantly white so being in that community made me realize my differences to a different extent. My high school was also toxic to a very high level. As I mentioned, I made friends but most of it was highly superficial. My closest friend at that time ended up being a different person from who I thought she was. This was probably one of the most humbling experiences I have had. The breaking of a friendship causes such inexplicable pain and grief but as time goes on one must realize that they too made such a beautiful impact on life. I learned from her actions and continue to cherish the memories we have together. I think life is all about learning and growing. I keep my circle small and know that those who have been constant support for me are those who truly matter. I appreciate those who value my time and reciprocate the energy and time that I give. Going into college, I came across so many different people who I never would’ve encounter back home. It was refreshing yet overwhelming. Before this quarter, I chose my friends selectively. I only had three friends: two of which are my roommates, one of those roommates is my sister, and the last one is my friend I made from my LS7A pod. I appreciate the realness of these friendships. In high school, most of my friendships were a facade impacted by the presence of social media. Being in college, I realize how fake social media is and how nice it is to live life without the pressure of social media friendships and the high school social hierarchy that as so prominent in my school. Now, I have made so many friends and so far I am so immensely grateful for their presence in my life. I feel that I got very lucky. I am excited to futher our relationships.

Overall, to expand on my overall life view, I think being content is more important than happiness. I take things minute by minute, hour by hour, and day by day. I am grateful for every emotion, feeling, experience I get to have while on this Earth. Happiness is fleeting because there is always something that is going to be stressful, sad, or angering. Taking even negative emotions and being at peace with them is so beneficial for our success mentally as human beings. Trying to be content with what we have is the goal even though as humans out instinct is to want more. I try to find joy in the small things in life (which isn’t hard because there is so much beauty surrounding us especially at UCLA). I try to approach friendships and people with kindness and acceptance. I take people as they are and with time embrace those who help me better myself as a person. I try to approach work with dedication and effort. I try to approach life with flexibility and patience. Life is full of highs and lows and I have learned to try to LOVE it all.

[mrultra100]

Let’s have fun (and eat children) in a Dinosaurchestra

As many of you might remember, I did a series of reviews last year covering the first season of the highly beloved Prehistoric Planet. Those reviews were some of the first major writing projects that I’ve ever done, and in between then and now, I’ve gone and done some more essays and such. Now that Season 2 is finally here, I figured that now would be a great time to pick up where I left off last time, by covering all of the Season 2 episodes. And fortunately for you, the reader who’s seeing this, I can say for certain that this new batch of episodes starts off very strongly with Islands.

Not pictured here; Singing and dancing lemurs

As a season premiere, this particular episode sets up a great reminder of what the audience is in for, not only for returning viewers in need of a reminder, but also for newcomers looking for a taste of what they’re in for. While some familiar faces from Season 1 (Think Hatzegopteryx, Zalmoxes, and Masiakasaurus) make their return, most of the animals present here are entirely new to the series, some making their first-ever media debuts.

Zalmoxes gets a break (And the girl too)

The first segment of the episode revolves around a Zalmoxes stuck on a raft drifting downstream. If that was somehow not bad enough, a mosasaur is seen trying to gnaw on him and send him to a watery grave. We’re not even one segment into this season, and it appears that Zalmoxes is getting the short end of the stick like last time. However, in a surprising turn of events, the little dinosaur jumps off and manages to swim to a much bigger raft, and just in time too.

With the raft that he’s now on floating away into the ocean, the Zalmoxes finds out that he is not alot. Another member of his species, a female, is revealed to be on the same raft as him. Now that they have each other, the two Zalmoxes won’t be alone during their long journey to a possible distant island, where they could be the pioneers of a new species. While this first segment was short, it does a great job of how many animals can find themselves on islands. All you need is a raft made up of enough floating plant matter and debris, along with some luck. Oh, and not being eaten by predators while on the waves is a plus too.

Run

Not as lucky as the Zalmoxes, however, is the animal of the next segment. We then cut to what will become Italy, home to a herd of Tethyshadros. These tiny hadrosaurs with serrated beaks were initially thought to have lived in the Maasrichtian, but during production of the show (Right around 2021) it was revealed that these peeps were around earlier, making them part of the Maasrichtian a bit iffy. For our sake, I feel like a select group of these animals survived into the time that the show takes place, a bit like how the Velociraptors work.

Just then, a whole flock of Hatzegopteryx shows up, causing the entire herd to panic and run for their lives, and rightfully so. The azhdarchids are absolutely relentless; snatching up a few babies as they run for the forest. There’s even a scene where a trio of young Tethyshadros are hiding among the pine saplings, with their mother calling out to find out where they are. This, however, only causes one of the Hatzegopteryx to turn around, getting closer and closer to where the babies are hiding. As a result of pure fear, the babies then run out in the open to escape, with one of the predatory pterosaurs snatching up and swallowing one of the babies whole. The rest are able to escape the beaks of these giraffe-sized predators, and they reunite with their mother. The Hatzegopteryx, on the other hand (er… “wing”) fly off to find better hunting spots, with a male in particular carrying off his unwanted prize within his beak. Keep that in mind for later…

Pictured here; The cutest things since Mononykus

We then return to Madagascar, which was shown off a bit back in Season 1. For the purposes of this episode, it’s a 2-for-1 special! Starting off with what might be the cutest little nugget to grace this world (And that’s saying something when Mononykus exists); Simosuchus! For those of you who might not know, this was a pug-sized relative of crocodiles that was not only terrestrial, it was also a plant-eater, making it completely different from its modern day croc relatives. Hell, these guys even FEEL like they’re reptilian prairie dogs, which is made more clear by what happens next.

A female Majungasaurus, a relative of Carnotaurus, targets the Simosuchus group. Due to her critical condition (Even being half-blind), the female is in desperate need of food, and runs towards the land-crocs. As many Simosuchus escape into their burrow, using their backsides to block the entrances, one unlucky male is left to face the predator on his own. So, what does the little crocodile do?

Threatened? Throw it the hell back

As the gif above what you’re reading shows, the Simosuchus’ best chance of defending himself from the Majungasaurus is kicking, hissing, and other such silly-looking (and frankly adorable) threat displays. Despite how she’s 10 times his size, the Majungasaurus is left confused by the display, giving the Simosuchus enough time to escape into his burrow. Even sticking her head in proves futile, as the dinosaur’s head is not only too broad to fully fit, the little croc digs deeper by kicking dirt into her face. The persistent predator then finally gives up, leaving in search of a better meal.

EGG-LAYING MAMMAL OF ACTION

For part two of this detour throughout Madagascar, we meet up with another weird group of animals that share the world with the dinosaurs; Mammals. This is Adalatherium, one of the largest mammals to live during dinosaur times (Right around the size of a badger), and is already weird in the context of the Maasrichtian.

You see, back during this time, the world was a place where creatures with feathers and scales ruled, so it’s rather odd to see an animal with fur running around, especially if said animal with fur laid eggs, like the female Adalatherium did. You gotta remember, mammals that did this sorta thing were alot more common during the Mesozic, with monotremes (The group of mammals including platypuses and echidnas) being relics from that time. And just like now, back then it was hard to raise a bunch of cubs, especially with alot of predators out and about. It’s not just dinosaurs and a certain devil toad to worry about, there was even a giant snake in the form of Madtsoia, which was a huge constrictor species in the same thing as today’s boas and pythons. The show shows this in action by having a rather unlucky Masiakasaurus that looking for lunch end up becoming lunch. The sight of that is enough to have the mother Adalatherium gather her cubs up and leave their old burrow in the night in search of a much safer place to call home.

On Thin Ice

The next segment that plays after is…. Well… you readers remember how I added in a scene where a Imperobator chased after some sort of ornithopod in my hypothetical Season 2 article? I actually somehow predicted this very scene for the actual Season 2. The only difference that I can list off is that instead of the prey species being Trinisaurua, Morrosaurus is the one being chased. 

In all honesty, while I don’t have much else to say about the actual scene, it’s neat that my own Season 2 post somehow predicted many of the animals and segment ideas for these episodes. A bit mind-boggling, mind you, but still really neat. As for the scene itself, the Imperobator pack chases the Morrosaurus onto a frozen lake, where one of the predators accidently slips right when the pack catches up with their prey. Due to this tiny screw-up, the Morrosaurus manages to have the predators eat his dust (Or is it ice?), and escape, much to the chagrin of the paravians.

Lemme Smash, but on steroids

You all know how one of the Hatzegopteryx from earlier was seen carrying off a dead Tethyshadros? Well, he gets the focus of this episode’s last segment. After carrying the dead dinosaur to a distant beach, the male Hatzegopteryx prepares a sort of display to attract a mate. He even gets a neat body and beak pattern to signal this change. And soon enough, after preparing his display and spreading his massive wings out, the male is soon visited by a passing female. Now that the female has arrived, our lucky bachelor must prove himself that he’s a worthy mate. The dead Tethyshadros that he brought to the beach proves that he’s not only a good hunter, he’s also a good enough flier to have brought the snack to the display. The female even courageous him by going along with snapping her beak and pressing her head onto his to the rhythm.

However, the fun is ruined when a younger male suddenly arrives, clearly wanting to take the female for himself. Our male quickly fights back by fighting off the intruder. As his rival flies away, it appears that the female has flown off, making it seem like his mating season is over. However, it’s revealed that the female is still here, having watched the battle from a distance. The triumph that our male has is another plus in his favor, as he’s also a good fighter. The two love birds (or pterosaurs) resume their courtship, which ends with the female flying away after having mated. Mating is the only contribution of fatherhood that the male will ever take part in, but it’s enough to help his species carry on.

All and all, this was a great episode to start off the season with, but we’re still not done. Why? Well, it’s really easy to explain…

As if you (somehow) didn’t need more proof that azhdarchids are not to be trifled with.

For these reviews, we’re also posting each episodes’ Uncovered segments. For those who aren’t familiar with the Uncovered parts, they’re basically the behind-the-scenes of Prehistoric Planet, where the showrunners share details about the science that went into a certain part of the episode in question. For this one, it goes into detail how large azhdarchid pterosaurs like Hatzegopteryx, despite being flying animals, were able to hunt on the ground. Things like their long legs giving them a big stride, their man-sized heads, and evidence of them walking in the form of footprints from South Korea are all example on why azhdarchids are alot more scarier than first thought. If a giraffe-sized, reptilian stork took fancy on you as a meal, the fact that they can run makes things worse. You’d better respect an animal like that.

And with that, the first detour on our Maasrichtian roadtrip is now done! Given how I want to make this batch of reviews better and longer than the Season 1 ones, this’ll take alot more time to get finished. Strap in, folks, this is gonna be a wild ride.

[wordtowords]

Relationship Affirmations on YouTube

affirmation - noun - emotional support or encouragement (Google)

Admittedly, I am a bonafide YouTuber in that I sport two channels albeit one is a mistake that I can't seem to erase. What is the reason why I am on YouTube? To find an international audience for my original music and homemade videos, of course. How do I do that? I tend to start conversations with fellow YouTubers to advertise my music.

However, every once in a while in my search for people who could possibly what to listen to my songs, I will come across videos that relate to psychology, a subject of personal fascination and study, and I will learn something about human beings that I didn't already know. Thankfully, to save me some time, YouTube with its superior algorithms will find videos for me based on my existing searches. Just this evening, YouTube found a video for me that Psychology Daily released, providing a litany of affirmative quotes, the best of which, I would like to share with you so as to save you a bit of valuable time. They are in no particular order. "Woke" alert: Some of the quotes assume everyone is heterosexual. If you are someone outside the nomenclature, I apologize. I'm guessing whoever wrote the material did so sometime during the last century. Just substitute in the appropriate nouns and pronouns that will work for you.

The quotations are as follows:  

"If you focus on the hurt, you will continue to suffer. If you focus on the lessons, you will continue to grow."

"A real man/woman will be honest no matter how painful the truth is. A coward hides behind lies and deceit."

"The main reason behind most breakups is misunderstanding."

"A woman can't change a man because she loves him. A man changes himself because he loves her."

"Once you are in a relationship, you think it's going to last forever, but in reality, it only lasts as long as you are working for it. If one person stops working, it falls apart."

"Hearing a single negative thing can damage at least five positive memories. Distancing yourself from negativity is self-care."

"Learn to love without condition. Take without bad intentions. Give without any reasons. And most of all, care for people without expectations."

"Don't treat people as bad as they are; treat them as good as you are."

"We don't need to explain our love. We only need to show it."

"People who hide their feelings usually care the most."

"Crying is actually very healthy. Tears lubricate your eyes, remove irritants, and reduce stress, making you feel better."

"Real people stay faithful to their partners. They don't have time to look for others because they are too busy looking for new ways to love their own."

"A man always remembers the woman who has captivated his mind."

"Without communication, there is no relationship. Without respect, there is no love. Without trust, there's no reason to continue."

"Lucky is the man who is the first love of a woman's life, but luckier is the woman who is the last love of a man's."

#word-to-words, #slice-of-life,  #blog, #blogging, #editorial, #reading, #vocabulary, #ReadersMagnet, #spilled thoughts, #good advice, #personal-essay, #writing community, #writing, #philosophy, #truth #relationships #self #therapy  

[alchemist-of-altoids]

TW: Vivi/dissection, parental abuse, suicidal ideation, dehumanization, dissociation, violence

Sorry for not updating this sooner. Anyways, this is the longest part yet, and also by far the darkest. This chapter gets pretty graphic, so be careful. Don’t worry, this is the worst before it gets better.

“Dude! Hell yeah!” Tucker said! “The Justice League has been kicking ass since you met them!”

“And you’re finally getting some real help.” Sam smiled. “It’s about time.”

“Hey, Val’s super helpful!” Danny argued. “And she barely ever tries to kill me anymore!”

“Yeah, that’s not exactly reassuring.” Sam said flatly. “But seriously, them getting rid of the Anti-Ecto Acts and the GIW has been a huge help.”

“I know!” Danny said. “That’s why tonight, I’m going into the Zone to get gifts for them.”

“Do you know what you’re going to get them?” Tucker asked.

“Yeah. I can’t tell what I’m doing for Batman, because that would reveal his identity. And, out of professional respect, I can’t do that.” Danny said.

“Boo! Lame!” Tucker threw his napkin at Danny.

“What’s the point of having a superhero friend if they don’t tell us the juicy superhero gossip?” Sam complained as well.

“Yeah, yeah, complain all you want. You two can figure it out yourselves.” Danny said. “But for Martian Manhunter and Superman, I got some messages from their families and a plant from their planet. For Wonder Woman, I had a sword and shield made. Nth metal, ectoplasmic coating, magical reinforcements, and an engraving from Pandora herself. And then for the magic dude, I’m collecting his soul. He’s sold it so many times. It’s in literally hundreds of pieces. I’m picking up the last 4 tonight. Ancients these past few weeks have been so tedious.”

“Damn, you continue to be the absolute best gift giver I’ve ever met in my life.” Tucker said. “Well, good luck. I still haven’t started on Lancer’s essay. See ya!”

“Bye Tuck.” Danny called. “I should probably get going too. Wanna get a head start on this.”

“Okay. We hanging out this weekend?” Sam asked.

“Definitely.” Danny smiled. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

When Danny walked into the house, something felt off. He had the feeling in the bottom of his stomach he gets on bad days, before he knows what’s going to go wrong. He decided to hurry up and get into the Zone, before his parents got home. So he quickly transformed and went through the portal. He was going to get the gifts, and leave as soon as possible. If he was lucky he might be able to get five hours of sleep tonight. However, in his haste, he failed to notice the new camera set up in the lab

“Is that enough proof for you?”

“I… yes.”

“Good. Then I trust you’ll take care of this.”

“Of course. That ghost will pay for mimicking my son.”

“It’s going to wish it never formed. Thank you Agent A.”

“I’m just glad to see someone can keep up the work of the Ghost Investigation Ward. I’ll be in touch.”

Three hours had passed since Phantom went through their portal, and the Fentons were prepared. They were going to make up for not noticing earlier. For not realizing that Phantom had killed their son and was pretending to be him. As soon as Phantom came through, they would catch him in the Fenton Fishing Net. Then, they’d use an aerosolized blood blossom gas to knock him out. After that, it was smooth sailing.

They were glad Jazz was living in her college’s dorms. Not only was tonight likely going to be very, very loud. But also, Jazz was so vulnerable to ghosts’ manipulation. She thought they were thinking, feeling beings. If she knew what they were doing she’d try to stop them. She may even believe that Phantom is Danny.

“How did we not notice…” Jack said sadly.

“We didn’t know ghosts could do that. Phantom may be a special kind of ghost.” Maddie reassured her husband. “He was very convincing.”

“I just… I can’t believe any of this.” Jack said. “I saw it with my own eyes, and it doesn’t feel real. I just talked with him yesterday. He talks and acts just like my boy…”

“I know sweetie.” Maddie said, resting her hands on her husband. “But we’ll fix this. We’ll avenge our son.”

“Don’t worry Danno. You’ll finally be able to rest in peace after tonight.”

“They’re beautiful…” Danny said, staring at the sword and shield Pandora had made. The sword was a large xiphos. The crossguard was shaped like a ‘W’, with the Nth metal cast to look gold. The handle was leather made from the pelt of a Nemean lion, dyed to be a bright red. The pommel was made of ecto-ice. The shield was similarly beautiful. It had a red ring, lined with gold trim, around the edge, going about three inches towards the center, with six stars evenly spaced. The center of the shield was a deep blue. And as the true centerpiece of the shield, there was Wonder Woman’s insignia, cast in the same gold as the stars. The wings on the ‘Ws’ extended to the edge of the shield.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Pandora said.

“Ugh, please stop it!” Danny playfully moaned at this. “I’m so sick of the titles and platitudes! Ancients, if I’d known taking down Pariah would mean I’d have to deal with this I would’ve made someone else do it.”

“No you wouldn’t.” Pandora said.

“No I wouldn’t.” Danny agreed with a sigh. “But seriously, thank you. I can’t wait to give this to her.”

“Of course. It was my pleasure.” Pandora said, wrapping the sword and shield in a leather cover, and putting them in Danny’s bag of gifts. “If I recall correctly, this is your final one, is it not?”

“Yep! Got everything I need!” Danny said, grabbing the bag and throwing it over his shoulder. “It was good seeing you!”

“You as well Danny.” Pandora smiled fondly. “Remember, we have a lesson in two weeks!”

“I’ll be there!” Danny smiled back as he flew off in the direction of the portal.

“Man, this was easier than expected. Constantine’s soul was a pain in the ass,but it wasn’t really all that hard.” Danny said. He pulled out his phone as he approached the metal ring that meant he was home. “Oh man, I really did it! I’m getting five hours tonight!”

Danny excitedly flew through the portal. Except, the second he was on the other side, he was trapped in a net.

“Oh man. I can’t believe I got caught like this.” Danny groaned. “Any chance you’ll just let me go?”

Danny got worried when they didn’t respond. Simply walked forward with some sort of spray bottle.

“You’re going to regret what you did to our boy.” Maddie said, leveling the nozzle of the aerosol solution at Danny.. At that, Danny’s eyes widened in fear.

“No, I swear it’s not what you think! I-” Danny didn’t get to finish his sentence.

“Ugh…” Danny groaned as he woke up. He lifted his hand to- Danny’s eyes snapped open. He looked down at himself. He was strapped to a table in the lab.

“It woke up sooner than expected.” Jack said. “Glad we got it strapped in in time.”

“No matter. Ghosts don’t feel pain.” Maddie responded. “Although frankly, Phantom, I wouldn’t care if you did. It’s the least you deserve.”

“Guys, I swear, it’s not what you think!” Danny said, starting to panic. “I am Danny! When I turned on the portal, I was inside! I-”

“Subject is behaving as expected.” Maddie said into a recorder. “It is doubling down on the lie in an attempt to manipulate us into freeing it.”

“I’m telling the truth!” Danny begged. “I’m still Danny! I’m still your son! Mom, Dad please-”

“SHUT UP!” Jack roared. “Don’t you DARE call us that ghost! You are not our son! You’re a heartless monster who killed him and took his place. Maddie, begin incision.”

“No, please don’t! Please, Mom! I- Ahh!” Danny screamed as the scalpel sunk into his flesh. He could feel it glide down, tearing his flesh cleanly. “Please, please stop, mom it hurts, please mom stop please mom!”

“Subject is continuing to maintain the illusion.” Maddie spoke. “It is possible the subject has deluded itself into thinking that it and its victim are one and the same.”

“Mom, please I swear it's me!” Danny screamed, thrashing around. “Please! Dad stop her! Please, it hurts! Someone help me please!”

“No one’s coming to help you ghost scum.” Jack said, hatred lacing his voice.

“Fascinating…” Maddie said, staring at the ghost boy on the table. She hadn’t yet finished her cut, leaving it as a V, instead of a Y. “Jack, come look at this.”

“Please, sto- op… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Danny cried as Jack walked over to see what his wife was talking about. The ghost was no longer moving, other than the shudders of its sobs. “I’m sorry! I never wanted to come back… I know I should’ve died. Please…”

“That looks like…” Jack said quietly.

“Blood.” Maddie replied, excitement in her voice. “There’s blood in its ectoplasm. It really is a type of ghost we’ve never seen before.”

“I wonder what else we’ll learn.” Jack said. “Continue the incision.”

“No, please!” Danny started struggling again. “Please! Sam! Tucker! Jazz! Please someone help! Please!”

Maddie’s scalpel cut through ectoplasmic flesh like butter. She finished the third cut, and was finally able to open up the ghost. She adjusted the camera, making sure she was getting a proper view of the insides. Then, at last she pulled back the skin.

“Jack, are you seeing this?” Maddie asked.

“A ghost with organs and bones…” Jack said. “Incredible…”

“Please…” Danny groaned weakly. “Please… stop…”

“There’s still so much we can learn.” Maddie said.

“Please… Mom. Dad.” Danny begged, barely still conscious. “Please… just kill me… Please…”

“Oh no.” Maddie said. “We still have so much left to do…”

For the past week, the Justice League had been laser focused on their new objective. Overall, they’d found great success. The Anti-Ecto Acts were on their way out, just waiting for official approval. The GIW was no longer sponsored by the government, and the Justice League had raided most of their bases. The group would likely stick around, but they had been absolutely crippled and were now considered a terrorist group.

There was only one major GIW base left. The one in Amity Park. They knew this one would have the greatest defenses, and likely had ghosts being kept prisoner, so they had taken extra precautions. However, it proved mostly unnecessary as the GIW didn’t seem to have any weaponry that was effective on beings other than ghosts. After taking out the base, they decided to pay a visit to Phantom. However, they were unprepared for the reaction they got when the citizens saw them.

“Get out of Amity!”

“We don’t want you here!”

“We have our own hero!”

“What if they’re with the Guys In White?”

“Stay away from Phantom!”

“Jeez, I’ve had more pleasant interactions with villains.” Flash said. “Seriously, why do they hate us so much?”

“Apparently, they’ve been dealing with ghost attacks for the last two years.” Batman answered. “Their calls to us were blocked, so as far as they know, we abandoned them.”

“So what do we do?” Flash asked.

“I’ve spoken with their mayor, Vlad Masters.” Batman said. “We’re going to hold a press conference and apologize, explain what happened, and promise to do better.”

“Well, that and we’ve got our surprise.” Superman smiled

“We have some time before our conference. We’ll split into two teams.” Batman said. “One will stay in costume, the other will change into their civilian clothes. We’ll both try to get a feel for the town.”

“I call dibs on Hal and Vic!” Barry said quickly. “We’ll go in our civvies! See ya bats!”

And with that, the three of them walked out. Superman, Wonder Woman, and Batman watched as they left.

“So, Batman. What places did you want to check out?” Superman asked.

“On a later trip, I want to check out Nasty Burger.” Batman said. “There’s some suspicious activity with their money. Before the conference, I think we should visit the Mansons and the Fentons.”

“Any particular reason?” Wonder Woman asked.

“The Mansons are billionaires, however they seem to mostly care for the social aspect. They appear at galas nearly every week. Despite this, they seem to have no particular care for politics.” Batman said. Then, with a smile, added; “Well, the parents don’t. Their daughter, Samantha, is extremely active in many activist circles. I want to make sure they’re just a vain couple with too much money, and that it isn’t a cover for anything more sinister.”

“And the Fentons?” Superman asked.

“Ghost hunters. They seem to have been the ones who patented most modern ghost hunting technology, and had a contract with the GIW.”

“Understood.” Wonder Woman said. “Where do you want to stop first?’

“Mansons are closer. We’ll go there first.” Batman said. “Let-”

At that moment, there was a knock at the door.

“Hey! Justice League!” A young voice called from outside the door. “Open up! I know you’re in there!”

The three Leaguers walked over to the door. They opened it and saw two teenagers. One was a goth girl, and the other was a boy in a red beret.

“Finally.” She said, seeming impatient. “Danny needs your help.”

With those words, there was an instant tension.

“What happened?” Batman asked.

“We don’t know.” Sam admitted.

“He’s been missing for almost five days now.” Tucker told them. “He’s never been gone this long. Definitely not without saying anything.”

“You two seem awfully calm considering the circumstances.” Batman said, his tone unintentionally accusatory.

“Yeah, that’s what happens when you’re the one helping with someone’s superheroing.” Sam said, stepping into Batman’s face. She looked up at him, glaring from mere inches away. “And if you ever accuse us of doing something again, I’ll make Poison Ivy look like a child playing with potted plants.”

“Sam, come on.” Tucker said. “Sorry about her, I promise she’s not evil. Just protective.”

“No need to apologize. Batman here has a tone issue.” Superman said. “He wasn’t accusing you. That was actually his impressed tone.”

“Hn.” Batman huffed. Superman sighed.

“You really aren’t helping.” Superman said. Then, he turned his attention back to the kids. “Do you have any idea where he might be?”

“We’re thinking FentonWorks.” Tucker said.

“They haven’t left their house in five days. The timelines match up.” Sam explained.

“And they’ve always had a specific grudge against Phantom.” Tucker added.

“We were planning on investigating the Fentons anyways.” Batman said. “You two wait here, we’ll-”

“Fuck no!” Sam interrupted. “There’s no way in hell you’re leaving us behind.”

“We can’t bring civili-” Superman started.

“Yeah, no offense, but if we’re civilians so is Oracle. And Martian Manhunter.” Tucker said. “Just because we aren’t generally front line fighters, doesn’t mean we aren’t part of this. Plus, we can absolutely hold our own.”

“You-” Wonder Woman tried once more, only to be interrupted as well.

“There’s no convincing them.” Batman sighed. “It’s like trying to convince Robin to stay home. It’s not going to work. Just stay close.”

“Will do B-Man!” Tucker said. And the group left towards FentonWorks.

“Their security is… unnerving.” Wonder Woman said as they neared FentonWorks.

“They’ve actually toned it down…” Sam murmured anxiously. “Tucker, open it up.”

“Got it.” Tucker said, pulling his PDA out.

“I’m sure Batman is more than capable of this.” Superman said.

“I’m sure he is. But I’m faster.” Tucker said. “I know this system inside and out.”

“Hrn.” Batman grunted.

“You don’t need any more kids.” Wonder Woman said. “Besides, he has parents.”

“What?” Sam asked, concerned.

“Batman has a tendency to take in strays.” Superman explained. “Kids, animals, reformed criminals, whoever.”

Sam and Tucker snorted. After another minute, the door clicked and the guns all retracted.

“Boo yah!” Tucker said. “Now, let’s go save Danny.”

The group walked through the house slowly and carefully. Superman used his X-ray vision to see into the basement.

“They’re in the lab.” Superman said. “It looks like Danny is lying down, and the Drs. Fenton are… on the floor? They-”

Before he could finish, Sam and Tucker ran off. The heroes ran after them, but the two teens were shockingly fast and clearly knew the house better than them. When the heroes got to the basement, the sight of it was… horrifying. Danny’s hair was black, and his skin was a pale green. But the heroes barely noticed that. No, what really got their attention was everything else. Jack Fenton was on his knees, facing a wall. He almost looked as though he was expected to be executed. They could see dents and cracks in the wall, where he had obviously punched it. Maddie, on the other hand, was sitting on the ground. She held her knees and was sobbing hysterically. Both were covered in blood and some green substance. Maddie turned to them, although the heroes knew she wasn’t really seeing much of anything. Her eyes were glassy and blank. If he didn’t have super hearing, Clark would have missed what she was mumbling to herself.

“They lied to us. It was him… Our baby boy… what did we do to you…”

Now that they were fully in the lab, they had a better view of the table, but Sam and Tucker we still blocking most of their view.

“Danny, it’s gonna be okay now. Hang in there.” Sam reassured, crying.

“The Justice League is here. They’ll help you.” Tucker said.

As the heroes approached, they got queasy. They saw a boy, still conscious, opened like a corpse. They recognized the Y cut. The ribs were cut. The could see his organs pulsating, working overtime to keep him alive. Nestled next to his heart was a glowing, light blue sphere. It was about 3 or 4 inches in diameter. As the three heroes got near the table, Sam walked away. Batman sprung into action, working to do what he could to help for the time being.

“Superman, I need your help.” He barked at his teammates. Then, much more gently, he spoke to Danny. “We’re gonna get you cleaned up and bring you to the Watchtower. You’re gonna be okay chum.”

The two worked in tandem to get the boy ready for transport.

“You bastards! What did you do to him! He’s your son!” Sam’s screams sounded through the lab. Diana turned to see what was happening and saw Sam over Maddie. She held her by the fabric of her jumpsuit and was laying punch after punch. Maddie was catatonic, and hardly reacted. However, Sam was sobbing. She screamed and sobbed and she hit the older woman. Her knuckles bloodying on the woman’s face. Diana pulled the girl back after a moment. Sam’s knuckles were twisted, cracked, bruised, and bloodied. But that was tame compared to Mrs. Fenton’s face. He nose was clearly broken. Her entire face was puffy and red. She clearly had a concussion, and you could hardly see her face through the thick curtain of blood. “Fuck you! What’s wrong with you!?”

Sam kept sobbing as Diana pulled her back. Diana held the girl, one hand on her back, the other on her head. She held the girl close to her as she cried.

“I hate them… How could they do that to him…” She mumbled as she kept sobbing.

“I know. I know sweetie. He’s gonna be okay. We’ll get him the best care there is.” Diana said quiet reassurances to the girl.

“It’s my fault… I killed him… I… Something’s wrong with me…” Sam’s crying slowed, but didn’t stop. “It’s all my fault…”

I Don't Want to be Great, I Wanna be Me.

So we all know the classic ‘JL meets Phantom through summoning’ prompt, and we usually get Danny “High King, Savior of Worlds, Eldritch, Cryptid, Ancient, No Shits Given, Chaos Gremlin” Fenton making an appearance, cool and confident, running circles around the JL. But what if, this High King they summoned, just… wasn’t.

The Justice League was prepared for anything, with the latest BBG threatening the world they had to take drastic measures. The JL Dark managed to scrounge up the summoning spell they… “liberated” from a cult group a couple months back. At first the JL was against the thought of summoning another highly powerful unknown, but with extensive research, Constantine and various others vouching for this so-called “King Phantom'' , and no option left, well, their hands were tied. Said to be the vanquisher of the previous Tyrant of the throne, Savior of the Infinite Realms, thousands of years old, infinitely powerful, infinitely old, and some smaller rumors claimed, infinitely kind. Phantom is said to be extremely protective of humans (something they were banking on),�� loyal to its subjects, and said to rarely get angry (yeah right). A terrifying creature, tall and confident in its destructive power.

So yes, the League was prepared. They gathered as many members as they could spare for this meeting, everyone ready for a fight, but praying for none. The Big Three stepped forward while the rest hung back. Constantine and the Dark members start chanting, beginning the ritual.

The chanting ends. The silence hangs. Bodies still. 

Then, a flash from the hieroglyphs on the ground and an explosion of wind with no origin, a blinding light originating from the summoning circle grows in strength, letting out a vibrating hum that causes Superman to cover his ears and wince. The hum starts shaking the ground and the light condenses into itself, revealing the silhouette of an object. 

The wind stops. The light is gone, the vibration a memory. Everything is as it is before, with one exception.

Wonder Woman, wasting no time, straightens, “High King Phantom, Ruler of the infinite Realms, We are the Justice league, We ask your help in vanquishing The BBG, it threatens the lives of all those who live…” Her eyes widened as what stood before her.

This… this didn’t look like a High King, Vanquisher of Pariah Dark. This little thing did not give any indication of confidence, power, or age… it looked… young. The only thing terrifying about this creature is the size of bags under his eyes. Drowning in soft clothes, hunched over, looking utterly defeated, Nothing like they expected. Diana would almost mistake it if for a human child if not for the glowing eyes, fangs, and slight aura it gave off. But this, this was no King… Is- are those tears in its eyes?!

____________

Danny has not been having a good day. Or week. Or month, or- anything really. It seems like dying was only the beginning of his problems. No, scratch that, this all started with his parents’ damn obsession with ghosts. Danny swore they were part ghost too with their utter infatuation with all things Ecto. If only they hadn’t tried to access the ghost zone, if only Vlad hadn’t been involved to become Danny’s biggest nightmare, if only his parents gave up their research once they had kids, if only he didn’t walk in that stupid portal to impress his friends. 

If only he had stayed dead.

If only he didn’t gain powers, then he wouldn’t be stuck in this mess. 

Danny scowled to himself and let himself flop onto his bed. He’s been spending the last couple weeks cycling through this whole rogue gallery, TWICE! Plus fighting a handful of random ghosts who thought they could take on the ‘Ghost King’ (Pariah’s evil reign and thousand year slumber didn’t help either with all the paperwork that’s left for Danny.) Running from the GIW, his parents, and Val as usual, (Ghost Scum, 

Dealing with ‘Mayor’ Vlad’s Evil Plan of the Week -Danny’s powers were still on the fritz after that encounter, painful, was a word for it- Not to mention school, between Dash being Dash, forgetting his science homework, missing a test because of Skulker, Lancer and his threats of, “Black Beauty Fenton! If your grades keep dropping you’ll spend the rest of the year in detention! With ME!” and now his teachers (and Jazz) are talking to him about college? He’s still a sophomore, give him a break! It isn’t Danny’s fault the whole universe is apparently out to get him.

The real cherry on top of this whole thing was the recent ‘summonings’. No thanks to the Fruit Loop and his meddling, with Jack Fenton unknowingly helping him, again. A nice little instruction booklet called, “How to Summon the Ghost King, Made Easy!” got out onto the internet and the world, free for any psycho to speed dial Danny away from his life. At various points in the last month Danny has been forcibly -and if he was honest, painfully- ripped from anything he’s been doing and dumped smack dab into the center of various cults’ plans, usually they wanted power, money, or world domination. His saving grace was the process of summoning forced him to transform or no identity reveals, thank The Ancients. 

Sam and Tucker have been a godsend in getting the Booklet wiped from the internet, Danny would be lost without them. He would’ve fallen apart the first week into his powers if not for them. Who knew watching your friend half dying created lasting relationships? They really kept him going and he trusts them with his life, really he does.

But Danny would never tell them about some of the things he’s seen getting summoned, he couldn’t do that to them. The various groups of psychos seemed to think Danny was more likely to listen to them if they offered sacrifices.. human sacrifices. Some nights he couldn’t stop smelling blood and incense, couldn’t get those images out of his mind. He hated himself for keeping track, and hated himself for not wanting to. 15. 15 people, so far just because some handful of lunatics wanted some money or something equally stupid like that. Danny was 15, that’s one whole human being, for every year he was alive, one of them was even younger th- she was just- Danny couldn’t- she was- so small…

Pulling his blankets over his head, Danny took measured breaths against the tightness in his throat. It’s Not fair. It’s not. He didn’t ask for this. He didn’t want to be King of the undead, he’s just a kid himself isn’t he? It was just an accident turning on the portal. He didn’t mean to. Why is he stuck fixing everything? Can't he just be a normal kid? Go to school, get good grades, become an astronaut? He’s so completely out of his depth, who is he kidding, it’s just a matter of time before he screws up again and someone gets hurt, or worse. He's trying, though, he is. He tries so hard to be good, to do good. To not turn into Dan.

‘Stop it, Danny. Now’s not the time for bad thoughts.’ This is the first time Danny’s had a chance to sleep in two days, his parents are out and left the home defenses are down, Jazz is studying at the library, Sam and Tucker are playing Doom while keeping an eye on ecto readings around town. He has maybe 4 blissful hours to spend in dream land. He sighed and sunk into his pillow trying to blank out his thoughts before he could spiral again.

A tightening in the chest, and eyes snap open, ‘NO! NO! Please not now!’ is all Danny manages to think before the unfortunately familiar sensation of space displacement takes hold. His transformation is forced on him as he feels himself fall apart and get put back together simultaneously.

‘Just a couple hours rest, is tHAT SO MUCH TO ASK!!??’ The anger leaves before it can fully form due to the pure exhaustion that washed over his ectofied bones and straight to his core. It feels strained, like glass under pressure, not knowing if the slightest change will shatter him. He slowly gets his bearings and- oh, this almost seems worse than a regular cult summoning. At least there’s not a dead body. 

It’s the Justice League, and Wonder Woman is talking to him. And Danny, Danny can’t. He can’t. He doesn’t know if they want to trap him, kill him, experiment… if the GIW got their claws into the JL… Danny can’t anymore, He can practically feel his core splintering into jagged gut- wrecking pieces. He just wants to rest, to feel safe, for just a little while. Why can’t he?

Throat burning and eyes watering, Danny realizes he can do something, just one thing. It’s the only thing left that he can do. Something he hasn’t done for a long time, ever since dying.

Danny starts crying.

[bush-viper-cutie]

New Student, New Friend

Pairing: Young Snape x french!reader

Word Count: 2,751

Request: #1 “Hi! Can I request a young!Snape x french!reader where the reader's transferred from beauxbatons and isn't fluent in english/has a thick accent? Love your work!!”

#2 “Hi hi! Love your work! Can I request Young Snape x French reader? Sorry if I dont speak well, english is not my first language <3”

Warnings: none

A/N: Hello everyone again! :D I combined both requests because they are pretty similar so enjoy!

Posted: 9/10/21

Masterlist

---

~*~*~ = time skip

(Y/n) = first name

(L/n) = last name

~*~*~

~*~*~ = POV change

---

~*~*~*~*~ *~

There was a strange static in the air this morning, one Severus couldn't quite place. He brushed his long hair back behind his ear and listened in to the hushed whispers of passing classmates.

"...Beauxbaton, can you believe it?"

"Nice to not know someone for a change - "

Beauxbaton? Severus gathered they were talking about a new teacher perhaps? Although it wasn't that odd to get new professors in the middle of the school year. Just last year the Dark Arts professor was promptly replaced when he went mad after a spell backfired on him; In fact, every year there was a new one.

It was strange that the new teacher should be a transfer from another school such as Beauxbaton... Maybe they were fired and no one else wanted them, must be down on their luck. And if that is the case, how very fitting for Hogwarts, home of inadequacy.

Severus, still deep in his bitter thoughts, almost tripped over the shoe that had extended out in front of him. He caught himself and whirled around angrily. "Watch it!" he growled, straightening.

James Potter smirked. "Oh, Snivellus. Didn't see you there.” His Gryffindor friends snickered behind him, bolstering his ego. "I'd get along to class if I were you. Wouldn't want to be late on your first day back."

Severus grit his teeth and did everything he could to not growl his displeasure of being in so close proximity to the pinnacle of mediocrity that was Potter. It had been a week after winter holidays had ended but after another nearly fatal encounter with Black, he’d been forced to stay in the Hospital Wing un-zippering his mouth and a couple of fingers before being allowed back.

The memory of the experience made his knees weak, making keeping his riled demeanor that much harder. He was lucky he'd had the foresight to cover his nose before Black unleashed his hex. It wasn’t a quick run from the lake to the nurse, and he certainly wouldn't have made it with his nostrils zippered together as well.

"Mind your own business, Potter." Severus spat out his name like rotten apples, furrowing his brows in an attempt to seem more threatening however he could not help but notice the hallways getting emptier by the second. He knew better than to get caught alone with Potter.

He laughed and turned to catch up with his friends. Severus watched him go, only relaxing his shoulders after Potter had rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight. The hall was empty.

He turned and continued down the corridor when his hearing perked at the scuff of loud footsteps. He whirled around, hand plunging into his robes, but it was too late.

"Levipeds!"

Severus' head snapped back as his feet whipped out from under him. He hung limp in the air, watching his wand roll away on the stone floor. His hair nearly touched the dirty ground.

James laughed. "Welcome back, Snivellus!"

He closed his eyes as his boiling blood rushed to his head. He was hanging upside down in the air, alone in the empty corridor. He couldn't scream for help, he'd just get yelled at for disturbing lessons, and he couldn't reach his wand - as long as his limbs might be, his wand might as well have rolled down into the dungeons. He'd have to hang there until classes were over or one of the portraits decided to help him out for once.

"Eh... Excuse moi?" A quiet voice wrapped in a thick French accent broke the silence.

His eyes flew open and stared straight into the face of a beautiful but completely unfamiliar student. She bent down low to meet his eyes. She must be the mystery person from Beauxbaton, the new student as it turned out.

This was worse, so much worse than being caught by anyone else in the school - except for a very select few. Severus looked around in search of anything that might make this all less embarrassing.

"You need help, no?" Her voice was more confident this time, laced with a hint of friendly amusement.

"Uhh..." He met her eyes and hoped this new student would excuse his red face to be due to all his blood rushing down.

She straightened and pointed behind him. "This is your wand? I'll give to you?" His wand was in his hand with one quick flick of her own.

His eyebrows automatically shot up at her use of nonverbal spells. "Thanks," he tried swallowing but ended up coughing. He covered his mouth and performed the counter-hex, dropping to the floor with a grunt.

She rushed forward, looping her arm through his and helping him up to his feet. She laughed and dusted the dirt off his back while he stood paralyzed.

"Better, no?" she smiled, facing him a foot from his stiff figure. "I'm new seventh-year transfer... And you?"

For a moment his mouth opened but no words flew out, and then all at once words poured out as fast as if under a curse. "I'm - oh - yes you're from Beauxbaton, right? Yeah - er - yes, seventh-year as well."

Her hands flew up and she waved them in front of herself with a laugh. "Slow please!" she laughed again. "One more time?"

Severus gave an awkward laugh that matched hers and nodded. "I'm also a seventh-year."

"Oh!" she held out a paper and pointed down to the class he was late for. "I am so lost! You help me now? Oui?"

She smiled up at him and his heart nearly leaped out of his mouth. He nodded quickly, "Yes - er - oui, I'll help you... Actually, that's my class too..."

"Oh!" Her smile widened, "I need partner for the class! You have one?"

For once Severus thanked his unlucky past self. His time in the hospital wing all week meant everyone would be already partnered up. "No, I don't..." his face flushed red again and he cleared his throat, looking away. "We could be partners?"

"Bon! Lead the way, partner," she motioned for him to lead, keeping a very close pace next to him as they walked. "I am lucky to find you, did not know anyone yet. You are only third person met!"

He gave her a small smile as they walked together, but he knew it wouldn't take long for her to find out his status at the school. Being a new student, he was sure she’d make all the friends she could ever want by the end of the day. Then she'd reconsider her luck after everyone tells her all about her lab partner, 'Snivellus'.

~*~*~

They made it to class late. The professor looked up and frowned, ready to tell them off when Severus' new ‘friend’ spoke up.

"Excuse us, Professor, I am new and got lost."

The professor sighed and waved his hand, giving her a pass. "And I see you're back Mr. Snape. Get to your seats, you'll both be working together - get moving."

The two back seats were empty and Severus was glad to be away from the front for once. His new partner set down her things, and as she bent to pick up her books Severus caught a glimpse of Sirius Black glaring at him from the front, a seat behind where Severus had been sitting the last term. Black had anticipated his return and was obviously annoyed with the change in seating.

"What may I call you, Mr. Snape?" The new student whispered, giving him her full attention despite the lesson continuing.

"S-Severus." He looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to him. He'd die of embarrassment if they started teasing him in front of her for daring to open his mouth. "And you?"

She smiled. "Severus Snape? That's a beautiful name." She looked back up to make sure their conversation was still private and turned back. She reached up and gripped his tie, pulling him towards her. She leaned and held a hand to his ear, moving her lips inches from his ear. "(Y/n) (L/n)."

Severus’ heart beat faster than it ever had before. The immense drumming in his ears almost made it impossible to hear her whispers. When she released him, he turned to look at her, feeling his face heat up either from proximity or from her warm breath flowing over his face. "(Y/n)... Good to know." He swallowed and realized he had not moved since she had pulled him towards her. He would have felt like an idiot if she wasn’t looking at him so playfully.

"You gonna kiss her, Snivellus?"

Severus pulled back quickly and clenched his jaw at Black.

The professor smacked Sirius' head with a roll of parchment. "Mr. Black, disturb my class again and I'll assign you an essay for every night this week." Severus smirked. "And you, Mr. Snape," the Professor smacked the board, creating a puff of chalk, "- will hand me your notes tomorrow before class - legible notes, might I add."

Severus nodded as the class snickered and turned away from (Y/n). The rest of the lesson went by agonizingly slow. Severus counted the seconds until he could run away to the library, away from taunting eyes. He hated himself for turning so red, but he hated Black even more for making him the fool.

~*~*~

~*~*~

You could tell the boy, 'Mr. Black', had embarrassed Severus greatly. He was hunched over his parchment, focused completely on the professor's words, and never once looking back up at you.

You read the words on the board but soon your eyes ventured down to look at the tall lanky boy currently trying to visibly shrink in his seat. The moment shared between you both still played on your mind. He had beautiful long lashes and deep dark eyes to match. It had been fun to see him so flustered over you, but the guilt of what you'd caused sat heavily on your chest. That boy had noted Severus had been in the perfect position to kiss her, which... did she kind of wish he had?... Just to see - for just a curious taste.

You didn't know what specifically was so alluring about Severus, but you could imagine yourself wrapped in his arms, pulling on his long hair, biting his lips, and hearing that deep voice of his purring for more. Something about him - or maybe everything about him - made you wonder how gentle those hands of his could be.

The bells rang in the distance, marking the end of the lesson. You packed your things and sat waiting for Severus to do the same. He was slow at first and then after a quick flick of his eyes up to you hurried along.

You stood at the same time and motioned for the door, scrambling to translate your thoughts into English. "Lunch now? We can sit together?"

People filed out of the class, which Severus watched closely before turning back to her and answering. "Look, this isn't the only time… I'm not someone to hang out with unless you like hexes and spells to be thrown in your direction."

You could see the hurt in his eyes, the way his brows furrowed, and his down-turned eyes filled with tears that wouldn't fall. Before you could bring yourself to respond, he sighed shakily, giving you pause.

"It's not your fault... I'll show you down and then I suggest you forget about being friends." He pulled open the door and held it open for you without meeting your eyes.

What could you say to him? You stepped out into the corridor, contemplating how to phrase what you were thinking when laughter pulled your focus.

"I see you've met our Snivellus." The stupid boy, Black, came forward talking to you but keeping his attention on Severus. He had long curly hair nearly as long as Severus' and was taller, with proud shoulders held in a loose demeanor that still made him seem important in some way. His eyes shifted to you, "Hope he didn't drip any snot on you while he tried for a kiss."

You scoffed, “You do not understand what you saw. Please leave us alone.”

“Love, maybe you’re not understanding me. For your own safety I insist YOU leave this sniffling slime alone.” Black took a step closer.

Severus pulled out his wand but held it low, at the ready in an instant. "I’m done with your games. Unlike you, you nitwitted tower troll, I have places to be." He finally glanced your way, "Excuse me," and made to leave.

Black blocked his way, laughing at the now pointed wand in Severus’ hand. "Go ahead, I’ll be glad if you finally get expelled for using wands in the corridors. Mine's not even on me."

You eyed the smirk on his face and the tiny shift of his hand towards his trousers pocket. Was that a lie then? Whatever the case, you had enough of this game too. "My friend, Severus, is showing me to lunch. We are going now." You stepped between Severus and Black, giving the taller boy an annoyed look.

"I’m telling you, be careful," Black chuckled. "He might try to kiss you again if you’re too nice."

You paused and stepped back, looking up at Severus, whose eyes were fixed on Black, staring daggers into him. You bit your lip and chuckled the same way Black had, finding a different kind of amusement than him in this situation. "I hope he will."

Severus' head snapped to you, his cheeks slowly going a light shade of pink all over.

Black made a disgusted sound and a show of his fake nausea. “Darling, I don’t think I understood you correctly. Check your dictionary and if that’s not the problem maybe your eyes.”

This boy was really getting on your nerves now. If you’d been back at Beauxbaton you’d’ve already hexed him into a soggy pile of starter yeast, baked him into the perfect Pain au Levain, and chucked him out the tallest tower window. “Move it,” you made sure your French accent coated the word heavily.

Severus’ hand wrapped around your arm, pulling you back. He kept his wand and eyes trained on Black but spoke to you. “Go down to lunch. I’ll stay here to have the chat Black so desperately wants to have with me.” He looked up again, “Let her leave.”

Black smiled, “That’s fine. Been meaning to ask how your winter holiday was after I last saw you.”

You turned to Severus, ready to protest when the door to the classroom opened, cutting Black off. You all stood very still and awkward, hoping to hide the atmospheric hostility that had been created.

The Professor locked the door with a flick of his wand and looked at everyone with concern. "Off to lunch, no need wandering the corridors. Now." He ushered everyone down the stairs, walking close behind in equal silence.

You reached the floor second to last, after Black and then Severus, and pulled on Severus' arm the second your Professor had turned towards the staff room. You kept your hand on him to make sure he didn’t decide to leave before you could talk to him. Before Black could step towards you to continue the ‘conversation’, other Gryffindor students pulled him towards a small crowd gathering across the floor. Whatever it was seemed to be of higher interest and he left with only single backwards glance.

You both watched him go dissolve into the rowdy group and suddenly the air around you shifted. Severus turned instantly, searching your eyes with an intensity you could almost feel. You blushed and slid your hand down his sleeve and lingered on his bare hand. Neither of you said a word but the electricity connecting your eyes and the comfortable silence that enveloped you both spoke volumes. "We could eat together, no?"

His eyes settled on your hand still on his until you let go. "Oui," he whispered with a smile pulling at his lips. “Lunch then.”

As you both walked on, he slowly crept closer with every step, making your shoulders brush against his arm. His pinky tickled the skin on your wrist, making you cough to hide a giggle as you entered the Great Hall. Your eyes flickered up at his and you smiled, seeing a gentle blush and an even gentler smile on his face.

~*~*~*~*~ *~

Masterlist

—-

General taglist:

@setsuna-meiou31

@severuslovebot

@bionic-otp

—–

[360iris]

Unlocking The Marauders Daddy Kink

Calling Remus “Daddy” for the first time:

It’s the summer before 7th year. Remus has been sleeping over at your house for two weeks before going to visit James and Sirius at the Potter’s.

You’re in the middle of putting together an Ikea couch that’s intended to go in the flat the two of you are getting after graduation, but in the meantime it’s staying in your room.

You’re focusing in on the directions and manage to accidentally get your finger pinched under the wood.

“Ouch!”

“What’s wrong?” Remus asks, popping up from the other side of the mountain of blocks and cushions. “Did you hurt yourself, angel?”

“Yeah.” You answer with a wince, showing him the finger. “I just pinched it, but damn that hurt!”

He chuckles at the pout on your lips, gently clasping your hand and pressing a comforting kiss against the offended digit.

“My poor baby, how’s that feel?” He asks in an overly sweet voice and you grin despite his patronizing tone.

“ ‘S okay now. Although I’d feel even better if you gave me more kisses, Daddy.”

You laughed at the way he froze, you loved the rare moments when you got to one-up him at quick thinking.

Something you didn’t account for was how his brow arched in intrigue, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before they slid into a sly smirk.

“Really now? Well I can give you more than just kisses, sweetheart. How would that make you feel?”

Calling James “Daddy” for the first time:

It was the morning of Hogsmeade weekend and you’d figured it wouldn’t hurt to check on the assigned plot in the greenhouses, that was granted to you by Professor Sprout, after breakfast.

And no matter how many warnings you gave, James insisted on tagging along even though it was clear he was freezing from the snow and extreme temperature drop.

He stood all but subtly shivering beside you as you checked the soil, watered the plants and fussed over whether or not they needed to be pruned.

“You could’ve waited inside the castle, love. It’s not like I’m in any sort of immediate danger out here.” You noted teasingly, beginning to put away your tools.

“I know.” He huffed, attempting to warm his hands for the umpteenth time. “Just didn’t want you to be alone. Besides, instead of you walking all the way back to the common room to find me, we can head straight to the Three Broomsticks from here.”

You laughed at his justification, not once since you’d started dating had he made a single decision without considering how it’d involve and affect you.

Cupping a hand on his shoulder and leaning up on your tippy toes, he ducked down closing the distance, allowing you to kiss his cheek sweetly.

“Hm, I have such a caring daddy. How’d I ever get so lucky?” You remarked with fond smile, turning back to the chore of clearing your work table.

Just as you closed your kit, you felt him lifting you over his shoulder, a firm arm hooked around your thighs.

“Oh! What are you doing!?” You tried not to scramble, desperately clawing at the back of his coat to keep you from slipping.

“Well, Hogsmeade’s canceled now, love. But don’t worry, we’ll still have plenty of fun.”

Calling Sirius “Daddy” for the first time:

“Don’t make such a put-out face, Y/N. I didn’t say no, I just said you’d have to wait.” He rolled his eyes dismissively at your severe pout, turning back to the unfinished Transfiguration essay on the table in front of him.

You looked down at your lap sadly, kicking your feet aimlessly and picking at your fingernails. His timing was impeccable. The exact minute you’d randomly slipped into a fuzzy headspace, he’d decided it was ample time to start his homework.

Your thoughts were moving very slowly, but the main idea at the forefront of your mind, was that you wanted him. It didn’t matter if he spent an hour teasing you, you just wanted to feel him. To run you fingers through his hair- to moan his name.

“I-“ You began, only to be interrupted.

“Y/N, I don’t want to hear it right now. Let me at least finish the initial draft. Don’t start acting like a brat.” He hadn’t even bothered to look at you and this snapped the thin cord of patience you’d been weakly trying to maintain.

Suddenly it didn’t matter that you were in the library or that you were a seventh year and not a preschooler.

He hadn’t given you the only thing that seemed to matter at that second and you couldn’t help but let the tears spill. Cradling your face, you sobbed weakly, your hands shaking.

“Are you- What are you crying for?” He asked exasperatedly, causing you to cry a little harder at the thought of upsetting him.

“I’m sorry.” You whined helplessly, working yourself up into nervous hiccups. “Didn’t mean to make you angry. I just wanted you, Daddy! Wanted to feel you in me.”

He tsked at your state, taking one good look at you before pulling you into his chest.

After a good minute of rubbing your back and reassuring you he wasn’t really cross with you, your sobs ceased and breathing evened. The only signs of your tantrum were your puffy eyes and the occasional hiccup.

“What did I tell you about looking so sorry for yourself.” He scolded mildly, tenderly yanking at your nose before moving to stand. Neatly collecting his parchment and quill set, he extended a broad hand your way.

“Cmon, dear. Let’s get you taken care of.”

[dragon-kazansky]

Yes, sir! | Niki Lauda

Professor Lauda AU! 👨‍🏫

Gender neutral reader

Dedicated to @lieutenantn and @scuttle-buttle

I'm using the first names of people I know in real life for the friends, so I apologise if you share the same name 😅

And thank you @scuttle-buttle for letting me make references to your fic 'The interpretation of dreams'

Some of my German translations may be wrong, I'm still learning 🥺

[Next chapter]

Part 1

You sat outside on campus. Your classes didn't start until tomorrow, but your friends started today. You agreed to meet them for lunch. You hadn't been sat outside for too long when they came out. Upon seeing you, they rush over, smiling.

"Lucky you with your extra day off," Katie says, grinning. She was studying music. This girl and her guitar were a force to be reckoned with, that's for sure.

"It's only one day," you laugh.

"One day more than we got," Michael added. When it came to computers, you knew no one better.

"Still, must be exciting not that you've started your classes. I'm not scheduled until tomorrow."

"Speaking of, what did you even pick? You never actually told us," Michael asks, sitting down next to you.

"Literature and languages."

"Ooo, look at you with your 2 subjects," Katie laughs.

"Just wait until I can tell you fuck off in other languages, then we'll see who's laughing," you grin.

"Funny. Can we go eat now?"

You nod and the lot of you go to the nearest cafe for lunch. The Red Wing is a nice little place to meet with friends and catch up, and it was really close to the university.

You grab a table near the window while Michael goes to order for everyone.

"Do you want to know who your Professors are going to be?" Katie asks, pulling out her phone.

"You know?"

"You can see the teachers on the website, I can check for you," she says, already signing into the website.

You say nothing and try to peek at the screen as she searches for the right page.

Michael returns and takes a seat.

"Uh oh," Katie says, looking at her phone strangely.

"Uh oh? Why uh oh?"

She looks at you with a bitter expression.

"Your language professor... you have Professor Lauda," she tells you.

"Professor Lauda? Why is that uh oh?"

Michael and Katie share a look.

"He's, uh... he's a bit of a perfectionist. Kind of strict. He has thrown students out of his class if they haven't kept up with assignments or he thinks they're just wasting time," Michael tells you.

"Oh, I see. I'm sure it will be fine. I'm taking languages because I want to."

Katie shrugs, "well, your funeral."

You narrow your eyes at her. They were making it out as if he was some demon teacher who worked here. You were sure it would be fine.

"What about my other professor?"

"Professor Barnes? He's alright. Cute. People like him," Katie sighs.

"There we go then. I'll be fine!"

Michael and Katie share a look again. You roll your eyes and ignore them as your food arrives.

You're back at your apartment early, in time for an early night so you can be refreshed for your classes tomorrow.

You weren't worried about what your friends had said. You were sure you could handle what ever this Professor Lauda would throw at you.

You arrive to your literature class early. Professor Barnes is friendly and welcomes you into his class. You take a seat near the front and wait for the other students to arrive.

When everyone has settled, the class starts.

Barnes introduces himself, introduces you the schedule for the term, and spends a bit of time getting to know his class. He makes a joke here and there. He's definitely going to be a favourite yours, you just knew you would enjoy his classes.

He dismisses you all with a gentle smile.

You have some time before your languages class. For some reason a lite bit of dread settles in. You really wanted to do well here, but what if you didn't? Would he actually kick you off the course?

Michael was able to meet up with you as you made your way to your next class. He had just left his class cor the day when he saw you on the way to yours.

"Hey!"

You stop and let him catch up with you.

"On your way to Lauda's class?"

"Yes."

"I think it's very brave of you to take this risk," he says, placing his hand on your shoulder.

You roll your eyes.

"You're over exaggerating! He's just a Professor!"

"Y/N, there are only two professors in this university that scare me, and Lauda is one of them."

"Who's the other?"

"Professor Kreizler, but you're not taking his class, so you don't have to worry about him."

You chuckle softly.

"I'll be fine. I have to go! See you later."

Michael watches you go.

You arrive to the class just in time. The class isn't as full as the other class. Just a few students scattered about. Absolutely no one was sitting on the front row. The professor has his back to the class as he organised papers on his desk.

You headed to the front and sat down, taking out the things you would need.

The professor turned around.

Never has anyone made such an impact on you before just from their presence. Your mind ceases functioning as you get a good look at your Professor.

Soft brown curly hair, dark brown eyes, not too tall, not too short, toned, but not buff. Gosh, did he look good in that turtleneck sweater.

His eyes scan the students. The room was only about half full, not that he cared much. He knew he had a reputation in the university. People couldn't deal with him, but it didn't matter because he wouldn't be able to deal with them either.

His eyes land on the only student brave enough to sit up front. He would be able to see you working from there, but that wasn't what made him stop to look at you. No, it was the fact you were probably the best looking person to ever walk into his classroom.

He flickered his gaze away before it could be read into too much by anyone.

You hadn't seemed to notice he was staring.

Still, he was a professional and he would remain so. Nothing wrong with having good looking students in a class.

"Hallo, willkommen. I am Professor Lauda, your languages teacher. This class is for German. Please, if you had no intention of being here, leave now."

No one shifts.

"Very well then. I have written the schedule for the term on the board, copy it down if you must, I will not be repeating it after today."

You note it down, using all your will power not to just look at your Professor.

"I must ask, does anyone here have any basic knowledge of German?" He asks, eyes scanning the class.

A few hands go up. Better than his last class where barely anyone had any former knowledge. Your hand is up too.

"Gut. You," he nods at you, "introduce yourself auf Deutsch."

You hesitate for a second, not expecting he would pick you. Though, you are sat up front. You're an easy target.

"Hallo, ich bin Y/N."

Y/N. Wunderbar. He had your name. He moves onto the next student who put their hand up, and then the next. You were none the wiser to his little trick of just wanting to know who you were.

"Now, listen here," he says, gaining everyone's attention after introductions, "if you so as waste my time, you are off this course. I only want students who mean to learn. If you fail my tests, you can walk tight out. If you fail to hand in an essay, you can leave."

He scans the faces of his students.

"Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir!" The class all spoke together.

"Gut. Now, pay attention."

He begins the introduction for the course. Though you are paying attention, you're slightly distracted by his voice. English or German, you could listen to him talk all day.

You write down notes as he speaks, not wanting to miss anything. You almost miss some details because you just wanted to sit and listen to him talk.

Class is over before you know it. Time had passed far too quickly for your liking.

"Dismissed. Don't be late."

Everyone gathers their things before they go. You close your notebook and glances up at your professor. He once again has his back to the class.

"Danke, herr Lauda."

Lauda glances over his shoulder to see you standing there. He looks you up and down quickly with his dark eyes. He turns back around without saying anything.

You leave, feeling a little awkward.

Michael is waiting outside for you.

"How was class?" He asks, falling into step with you.

"Not that bad. Professor Lauda isn't that bad!"

"You're lying! He's so intimidating!" Michael exclaims.

"He's fine. Maybe I should I meet this Professor Kreizler for reference."

"He's intimidating too."

"Do you actually like any Professors here?" You ask.

"....not really!"

You chuckle softly and keep on walking. Michael has to jog a little as you pick up the pace.

"I dare you! Though he might be OK if his assistant is there."

"His assistant?" You look at him curiously.

"Yeah, pretty sure they're together."

"Hmm. Cute."

"If you say so, Y/N. Right, I have to leave, there's a computer with my name on it," he grins.

"Yeah, whatever. See you!" You laugh as he walks away.

You head back to your apartment, done for the day. You would go over your notes and have some dinner before turning in for the night.

Tomorrow was another day, and you were eager to return to your languages class.

@lieutenantn @scuttle-buttle @rumblelibrary @zemosimp05 @hb8301 @celtic-witch-bitch @somethingthatsaysbubbles @lorna-d-m @anteroom-of-death @belle82devart @vverliebt @alltimebandsexual666 @charistory @mischief-siriusly-managed @thatoneartgalsstuff @mssennimatilda

[autisticandroids]

yknow those episodes where a character's whole personality gets split into 3-5 different distinct separate bodies? what bodies would cas have? I feel like it'd just be a mess tbh, imagine 5 different castiels all of them loving dean to a certain extent but showing it VASTLY differently. one cas would literally want to murder the others lmao

okay so i don’t actually think this trope would be an effective tool for analyzing cas? he’s not conflicted enough in himself. he’s too impulsive, too singleminded, too uninhibited. like, in the end, cas always ends up doing whatever he wants. there aren’t multiple discrete voices vying for control, really, or rather, if there are, one is always significantly stronger than the others. like in the end cas will always end up eating raw meat off the floor, you know? he’ll do what he wants. if i was going to do personality splitting i’d do it to someone intensely internally conflicted, like dean.

however, because i’m in an essay writing mood today, i’ll answer a question slightly to the left of the one you asked. cas may not be internally conflicted, but he is intensely changeable. these two things are related, actually; the same impulsivity and singlemindedness that mean he doesn’t have a ton of internal conflict at any given time mean that different ideas sound good to him at different times, because he isn’t really thinking about, say, what future-him will think of them. and he’s not really trying to maintain an image or identity. he’s just doing what feels right at the time, which is very different at different times and in different situations.

anyway, that in mind, i think a lot about ways to bring together many alternate versions of cas which sort of correspond to different times in the show.

i have a fic in my head about a bunch of cas-es pulled from alternate timelines by some kind of spell. so this would be set during the widower arc because the basic impulse here is to show dean a very bad time. just absolutely put him through hell. also, all the alternate timelines are different because different stuff happened, not because cas made different choices, because if we’re torturing dean it has to be like 5x04, the changes in cas can’t be cas’ fault. they have to be dean’s or just like, the universe’s (which makes them dean’s).

so dean is trying to bring cas back, and he finds some kind of spell that can bring someone “from another world.” and he tries it because hey. can’t hurt to try. anyway i’ve thought a long time about different versions of cas i would put in this and here is what i have. in order of when the timeline split off.

- a cas who never raised dean from hell. think 14x13 “lebanon.” this one i’m not too sure about, like, this could be fun, but i don’t know if it’s different enough from the next one. like this castiel would have lived through the averted apocalypse and subsequent general fuckery that happened as an angelic footsoldier, which would actually be pretty interesting now that i think about it, especially since all that stuff would have gone down soooooooo differently without cas specifically for your average angel footsoldier. like cas has PERSONALLY caused more upheaval in heaven in twelve years of spn than there seems to have been in millennia. so he would be the point of view of a normal footsoldier from a totally other world.

- a cas who died mid season four, and is pulled out of the empty in 2017 by this spell. i’m not sure when this cas died. my thoughts are (1) killed in on the head of a pin by alistair, (2) killed during his torture in the rapture, or (3) simply never resurrected after lucifer rising. (3) makes the most sense, but that cas has already thrown away everything for dean. i prefer the idea of a cas who loves dean, is already on the brink of disobedience for him, but has not yet taken the plunge. both on the head of a pin and the rapture are great places for this, and they both have strengths and weaknesses. if he died in the rapture, he was killed by heaven, which is fundamentally more fun, but he was also really very much over the edge already. if he died in on the head of a pin, he wasn’t killed by heaven, but he is perfectly teetering on the brink of falling for dean. regardless of when he died, the purpose of this cas is to be horrified at all the various and myriad ways he has destroyed and corrupted himself for dean in the other timelines.

- possibly endverse cas, who would have died in 2014, but like s4 cas, would have been pulled from the afterlife by the spell. i’m not so sure on this one. we as a society love endverse cas but i dunno what purpose he would serve. maybe endverse cas didn’t die in 2014, and instead was imprisoned by lucifer, because, you know. he’s the only brother lucifer has left. so he is very excited to see dean alive and well, since his dean is dead, and, not being an angel, cas can’t bring him back. the purpose of this cas would be to horrify dean that cas loves him and needs him so much, and to disgust the other cas-es with his neediness.

- a cas who was in some way on better terms with dean during s6. maybe dean and cas ride off into the sunset together after swan song instead of dean going to live with lisa, maybe dean prayed to cas while he was with lisa because he missed him, who knows. either way, cas has dean’s help with the angel revolution in season six from the start, and never goes to crowley. the plan cas and dean come up with to beat raphael includes breaking into the cage and stealing the grace of michael and lucifer, freeing sam and adam in the process. incidentally, it also involves cas possessing dean, because if cas is gonna eat archangel grace to become more powerful, he’s going to need a stronger vessel. so cas and dean have a whole like. midam situation happening. they’re a double archangel together, and godstiel never happened so none of the other terrible apocalypses that stemmed from that happened, and everything is pretty cool where they’re from, and also they’re obviously uhhhhhh SOME kind of together. the purpose of this cas is to upset dean because this cas shows how much better everything could have been and how much better his and cas’ relationship could have been if dean had simply been more considerate of cas in s6, and also freak dean out with how uh. close. this dean and cas are.

- a godstiel who managed to swallow purgatory without swallowing the leviathans and remained god. he’s probably soooomewhat less scary and murdery than canonverse godstiel because no leviathans, so you know, not as many angel purges or massacres on earth. and he probably went and fixed sam’s wall within about three days because cas is prideful but he does NOT like it when dean is mad at him. so they did kiss and make up, and so this cas would have had dean to act as his morality chain. but he’s still very scary and godstiel. and also he refers to dean as “The Beloved” you know. his purpose is to freak everyone out, because he’s scary, but also, for the past cas-es, because he is a terrifying abomination that they could never imagine becoming, for the future cas-es, because he is a reminder of their worst selves, and for dean, because he is a reminder of how dangerous cas is, but also because he uh. obviously has some feelings about his dean. unclear if they are consummated or not.

- a cas who naomi never rescued from purgatory, and who stayed there. hasn't spoken to another being in half a decade, has not recovered from his emotionally destroyed state in purgatory in s8. believes at first that the spell is his dean rescuing him, and is crushed when he realizes he was wrong. like endverse cas, his purpose is to show dean how much cas needs him and depends on him emotionally, and how he (dean) is capable of destroying cas, as well as his guilt for leaving him in purgatory and how lucky he is that his cas got out. this is especially noteworthy since the guilt for leaving cas in purgatory is part of the reason dean is trying to get cas back.

- a cas who stayed human after season nine, and has built himself a small human life over the next four years. he has a job and an apartment and friends outside the winchesters and yes, he still goes hunting after work sometimes, and he's still in contact with dean, but he is also independent in a way no other version of cas has ever been. he exists to freak out dean because dean has never seen cas independent of him. he is also fairly bitter at dean since dean did kind of stop spending time with him when he was no longer useful, and our dean feels guilty for that.

- a cas who showed up twenty minutes later in 10x03, finding sam dead and dean gone, and had to chase down demon dean, and has now spent three years following demon dean around as his tragically adoring stalker, because he hasn't found a way to resurrect sam yet and he doesn't want to put dean through the demon cure until he can save sam because he doesn't want dean to experience that guilt, but he also adores dean and wants to keep an eye on him and keep him safe and also keep him from doing anything too heinous, so he just covertly follows him around the country and watches from a distance as he commits various murders and fucks his way through every local bar scene. and occasionally cas finds dean something to kill, when the mark gets hungry, and drops it in his path. his purpose is to freak dean out with the lengths cas would go for him, and the depths cas would sink to.

anyway. lebanon cas and season four cas are horrified and perhaps disgusted (lebanon cas more than s4 cas) by ALL of the later cas-es, and how far they’re fallen, all of it for dean. godstiel and archangel cas being abominations, endverse cas and s9 cas being fallen, even purgatory cas and demon dean’s cas for their total dependence on dean.

purgatory cas and endverse cas are just happy to see a dean, even if it’s not their dean. demon dean’s cas, too, in a way. he’s happy to see a dean who is still human, who he can still have as a friend.

human cas is pissed to see that he was right, that dean would have stuck by him if he’d still had his powers, that this version of dean is doing spells to try and bring his cas, who is still an angel, back, whereas he and his dean only see each other once every couple months.

everyone is terrified and disgusted by godstiel, as i said before.

they’re mostly kind of thrown by archangel cas. a lot of them are jealous. godstiel is furious because how dare anyone, even an alternate version of himself, take dean as a vessel (even if dean likes it). godstiel isn’t really there, though, he resisted the summoning and just sort of popped his head through to see what was going on, and he goes back to his own reality pretty fast without murdering anyone.

also to be clear dean has not at this point examined or acknowledged any feelings he may have about his cas besides “friendship,” nor has he wondered what feelings his cas may have for him. given how many of the cas-es were clearly in some kind of relationship with their dean (endverse cas, archangel cas) or just openly in love with their dean (godstiel, purgatory cas, demon dean’s cas), dean is forced to reevaluate the nature of his and cas’ relationship.

[engie-ivy]

The girls have a bet, the boys eavesdrop

“Merlin, Mary,” Marlene says. “You hadn’t noticed that until now? He’s been looking at Lupin like love sick puppy since third year.”

Remus eyes widen, but he doesn’t dare to turn his head to look at Sirius.

Stupid ideas and dumb bets

Boys cannot go up to the girls’ dormitory. Animals, however, have no trouble walking up those stairs, and once upstairs, his Animagii friends managed to pull Remus up as well. Which is how Remus finds himself crouched under the Invisibility Cloak with his three friends in the corner of Lily, Marlene, Mary and Emmeline’s dorm.

James had overheard Marlene tell Dorcas and Amelia that they were all to meet in their dorm that evening, to discuss dates for the upcoming Yule Ball. James had immediately decided that this was a conversation he needed to hear, as he was particularly interested in Lily’s thoughts on the matter. Remus was against the whole scheme, and had lectured his friends on breaching the girls’ privacy, but to no avail. Remus only decided to join to prevent his friends from being creepy, or at least more creepy than they’re already being. Not that Remus actually thinks his friends would do something like peek at the girls. He actually tested James. They had decided that Remus should look into the dorm first to check if all the girls were properly dressed, as Remus is as innocent and unassuming as can be, and he had said that Lily was standing in her bra. James passed his test with flying colours, as instead of immediately looking himself, he pulled Remus back and scolded him for not averting his eyes.

So now Remus is huddled under the Invisibility Cloak, where they only fit if Peter remains in his rat form, on the cold floor of Lily’s dorm besides her bed. He only refrains from complaining about his current predicament because Sirius is pressed against him so close he can feel the warmth of his body and his hair tickling his face.

In the middle of the room, Lily is sitting on her bed, knees tucked underneath her, wearing pyjamas and her hair in a messy bun on top of her head. Dorcas and Marlene are sitting on the edge of Marlene’s bed, Mary is lying upside down on a pillow on the floor, and on some other pillows scattered around, Emmeline, Hestia and Amelia are sitting.

“He’s going to ask you!” Dorcas says.

Lily brushes a hair from her face. “He wouldn’t dare.”

“Any sensible person wouldn’t, but Snivellus…”

“Don’t call him that childish nickname Potter and Black came up with.”

“He’s called you a lot worse,” Dorcas replies.

“Exactly,” Lily says. “And you don’t really think that after calling me the m-word in front of the entire school he’ll have the nerve to ask me to the Yule Ball?”

“You know what would really piss him off?” Mary says with a grin. “If you’d go to the ball with James Potter!”

Remus glances over at James, but he doesn’t look as pleased with this as Remus would expect.

Lily huffs. “I don’t care enough about Sniv- Snape to choose my date purely based on his feelings.”

“Besides,” Marlene adds. “That wouldn’t be fair to Potter. He really cares about you.”

“Potter only cares about himself,” Lily mutters.

“Lils, you know that’s not true,” Emmeline says. “He deserves more credit than that.”

Lily rolls her eyes. “You just like him because he’s the great Quidditch hero with good abs.”

Marlene leans forward with a sly smile “So you have been noticing Potter’s abs.”

Lily blushes and throws a pillow at her face. “Shut up.”

Remus sees James practically beaming. What Remus hopes he’ll learn from this is that he should show Lily his caring side more, and let her know how his feelings for her are sincere. What Remus fears he’ll learn from this is to show his abs more around Lily.

“So what’s the current status?” Dorcas asks. “We have Mary going with Peter, Emmeline going with Gideon, Marlene going with me-”

“Oh?” Marlene asks. “I don’t believe you have asked me yet?”

“Too bad, McKinnon,” Dorcas says, while pulling Marlene in and kissing her temple. “That was part of the deal when you agreed to be my girlfriend.”

Marlene chuckles. “I’m glad I don’t have to go through the trouble of getting one of those obnoxious boys as my date.”

“Who would you pick from the guys if you had to?” Hestia asks.

“Who would you pick from the girls if you had to?”

“Lily.”

“Lily.”

“Lily, for sure.”

“Yeah, Lily.”

“Aaaw, you girls!”

“Now Marlene, who would it be?”

“Sirius Black,” Marlene says. Lily rolls her eyes, but Marlene just shrugs. “If I have to, I might as well go with the fittest bloke.”

Remus can agree with her there, and is suddenly very glad for Dorcas. Next to him, Sirius has a smug smile on his face.

“You’d just do that to meddle with the bet!”

Remus frowns. The bet?

“Oh, you’d know all about meddling with the bet, won’t you, Emmeline?” Amelia says. “I heard you talk to Lupin the other day when Potter and Black entered the common room!”

Emmeline flips her hair over her shoulder. “Why, Amelia, I don’t know what you mean.”

“You kept talking about ‘how broad Black’s shoulders have become since he has started playing Quidditch’.”

“I was just making conversation.”

“You were putting ideas in his head!”

“Mia, please,” Lily says. “I hardly think Remus Lupin needs Emmeline to put the idea of Sirius Black’s broad shoulders in his head. I’m pretty sure they’re well-represented there already.”

The girls giggle, and Remus feels his cheeks burn. He feels said broad shoulders pressed against him, and the owner glance curiously at him.

“Can I still change my answer?” Mary asks. “I had no, but I was sitting across of Lupin and Black in the library, and Lupin was enthusiastic telling Black about this book he had read, and Black was looking at him so fondly!”

“Merlin, Mary,” Marlene says. “You hadn’t noticed that until now? He’s been looking at Lupin like love sick puppy since third year.”

Remus eyes widen, but he doesn’t dare to turn his head to look at Sirius.

“There’s no changing your answer based on new insights anyway.” Amelia takes a piece of parchment out of her pocket. “It stays as follows,” she says, before she starts reading out loud. “Official bets on the matter of whether Sirius Black and Remus Lupin will get their shite together in time for the Yule Ball and be each other’s date: Lily, Emmeline, Alice, Hestia: yes. Marlene, Dorcas, Mary, Amelia: no.”

Remus still can’t look at Sirius. He doesn’t know what to feel. Mortification that he’s apparently been so obvious, for sure, but also hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, the girls are onto something and Sirius is into him as well?

“I don’t want to be pessimistic,” Marlene says. “But honestly, I think it’ll take more time for Sirius Black to get his head out of his arse. We’ll be lucky if they figure it out before next year’s ball.”

“Lupin won’t be much better,” Emmeline says. “He’s a super smart guy, but when it comes to Sirius Black, his IQ drops like twenty points. I was working on a Potions essay with him the other day, and Black was standing behind us throwing the Quaffle back and forth with Potter. I pretended like everything was fine, but he didn’t hear two-third of the questions I was asking!”

Mary chuckles. “Oh Emmeline, you can’t expect Lupin to focus on Potions when Black’s arse is in view!”

Now mortification definitely takes over.

“I can’t handle another year of this, though!” Lily groans. “Every time I’m in a room with the two of them together I wish I brought a knife to cut the sexual tension.”

“I’m surprised you’re all for it, Lily,” Dorcas says. “I know how much you like Lupin, but honestly, I thought you saw Black as an annoying, arrogant and loud prat?”

“Nah,” Lily says. “I’ve discovered there’s more to him than that long ago. And even if he acts brash half of the time, he’s so thoughtful and caring when it comes to Lupin! I’d hardly recognize him.”

“I know!” Mary gushes. “Like, normally he can’t pay attention in class for longer than five minutes, but when Remus is ill and can’t come to class, he takes notes of every word the teacher says, even during History of Magic, just in case Lupin wants to know something. And when does anyone ever wants to know anything about History of Magic?”

Remus blinks. Of course, Sirius can be very considerate, and Remus’s circumstances may make him more in need of his kindness, but it can’t have anything to do with Remus himself, right?

Suddenly, Alice bursts through the door. “Frank just asked me for the Yule Ball!” She squeals.

Immediately, the girls jump to their feet and hug her in excited exclamations of delight. In the consternation, James grabs Sirius and Remus’s arms and drags them to their feet and out of the room.

Nobody says anything until they’re back in their own dorm. Remus sits down on the edge of his bed and becomes extremely interested in the floor.

“Ehm,” James says. “I think Wormtail and I should go to… Ehm, well, not be here.”

After they’ve left, Remus hears Sirius scrape his throat. He jumps, as Sirius is standing much closer than he had expected. He looks up in Sirius’s eyes, and sees his nervousness.

“So,” Sirius says. “It seems like the girls are betting whether we’re going to the Yule Ball together?”

“So it seems indeed,” Remus replies with a nervous laugh.

Sirius runs a hand through his hair. “After McKinnon called me an arrogant twat during Quidditch practice, I’d hate to have her win the bet.”

“Do you now?” Remus asks with a smile. “You’d ask me to be your date just to spite McKinnon?”

“That,” Sirius says. “And also because I’ve allegedly been looking at you like a love sick puppy for years, and taking History of Magic notes, as it turns out, is not the best way to woo you. So what do you say?”

A happy, warm feeling spreads through Remus’s chest and he’s suddenly very glad for James and his stupid ideas and the girls and their dumb bets.

“If you don’t mind having a date whose IQ drops twenty points around you and who prioritizes ogling you over Potions essays?”

[ptergwen]

call me cupid

w/c: 3.5k

warnings: very mild angst and a few swears

summary: despite your hatred for valentine’s day, peter attempts to make you a card

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves!! i hope y’all get to spend some time with your people today and eat lots of chocolate <3 love you & enjoy mwah

-

it’s no secret that peter is terrible with words. he gets so flustered he can’t talk or forgets what he wants to say altogether. school presentations are torture. ordering food out is impossible. he’s accepted it at this point, that speaking just isn’t for him.

the one place it doesn’t come across is on paper. peter is ridiculously smart, and he knows all the right words to string together, which is why writing you a valentine should be no trouble at all. should be no trouble at all.

to tell the truth, he’s been sitting at his kitchen table with a blank sheet of paper in front of him for what feels like hours. nothing is coming to him. he’s not sure why this is so hard. you’re his girlfriend, he loves you, he’s said it so many times in every way he could think to. what’s different about it now?

everyone puts way too much pressure on giving the perfect gift when they should really just be enjoying each other’s company on a holiday about love. or, in your words, a meaningless holiday that was created by capitalists as another excuse to take people’s money. 

alright, you aren’t too fond of valentine’s day.

it makes anyone who’s single feel like shit and anyone who’s in a relationship lose their shit.

only mj agreed when you shared your criticisms. ned and betty gave you looks like you were insane, and flash muttered something about you being undateable. peter had laughed and swung an arm around your shoulders, but he didn’t fully agree.

although valentine’s day has its flaws, peter likes to see it as twenty four hours of extra appreciation for the people in his life. you can buy chocolate for your friends and family. it doesn’t have to be a significant other, really. him and ned would do it before he had you and ned had betty.

peter wants to remind you how loved you are even if you’re not into the festivities like he is, that bringing him to writing your card. it’s a simple and clinically underrated way of expressing his gratitude. he’d write you love letters every day if he didn’t suck at them.

may comes out of her room to see peter in the same place he’s been since he got home from school. she looks at him through her glasses, smiling as she comes into the room. he’s tapping his pencil on the table, eraser down, searching his mind for anything to write.

“still nothing?” may asks him, making her way over to the cabinets. peter puts down the pencil and sighs. his shoulders slump. “nope. i haven’t gotten past the intro.” “intro, huh?” she teases her newphew and grabs a jar of sauce. “y/n isn’t your teacher, kiddo. you’re not writing her an essay.” she looks at peter over her shoulder. a sheepish smile creeps onto his face.

“you know what i mean.” he reads over the only words on his paper at the moment. dear y/n. he’s starting to feel like spongebob the one time he wrote a paper. “what are you making?” peter asks may so he can temporarily take the focus off his unwritten valentine. “pasta,” may shakes the box in her hand. “and meatballs.”

“should i dial 911 now or wait until we’re in flames?” peter jokes about her awful cooking skills. may shoos him off and puts the box of pasta on the counter. “worry about your own kitchen nightmare.” she nods at the sheet of paper tormenting him. frowning, he glances back at her. “i’m the worst, may. i really don’t know what to write.”

may struggles to open the jar of sauce as she replies. “i thought you said- jesus.” it pops off. “y/n doesn’t like valentine’s day.” she slides over a pot from the stove and dumps the sauce in. peter stares up at the ceiling. “she doesn’t.” that’s probably why he’s having such a hard time. “why are you writing her a card, then?” may questions, turning on a burner.

“because, i dunno, it’s nice? it’ll make her happy? she might not care, but i do.” he mumbles the last part. he’s a bit of a hopeless romantic, so he hasn’t quite adjusted to the idea you had of not getting each other presents. you’re treating it like a regular day. some takeout and cuddles is all you’re doing.

peter would rather buy you things until his pockets are empty. not that there’s much in them, anyway. the point is that you deserve proper spoiling instead of corny words in his shitty handwriting.

“peter, honey. it might be better to stick with what y/n wants,” may suggests while stirring the sauce in the pot. she’s well aware that a few paragraphs from peter won’t change your mind. your opinions belong to you, and there’s nothing he can do about it, though he does have good intentions.

ignoring what may just said, peter makes a request. “what if you help me write it?” she faces the stove again. he can picture her playful smile when she quirks back, “she’s not my girlfriend.” “no, but you’re a girl... a woman,” he corrects himself, earning a scoff from may. “you’d probably know what sounds good.”

“you know y/n better than me, peter. do it on your own,” she exhales and turns back around with the wooden spoon in her hand. “it’ll be more... heartfelt.” peter hates that may is right because he’s completely stuck. his heart is being stupid today. “okay. i’ll try.” he gives her a slow nod. “why don’t you take a break? come stir the sauce. i’ll start the pasta.”

peter gets up from the table and grabs the spoon from may. she pinches his cheek on her way to the sink, getting a tight lipped smile from him.

this is not good.

-

the next day at school, peter asks around the lunch table for advice while you’re on line getting food. he feels guilty about it because may told him not to. he’s never going to get your valentine done if he doesn’t, though. it isn’t the worst thing in the world to bring on some co-writers.

“ok, what do you have so far?” betty asks, fully invested in the situation. she’s hoping this will switch up your views on valentine’s day. peter pulls out the same piece of paper from last night and says verbatim what’s on it. “dear y/n.” he looks up at ned and betty, the corners of his mouth twitching down. ned motions with his hand for peter to go on.

“that’s it,” peter confesses and folds the paper back up in shame. “dude, you told us it was a work in progress,” ned winces, betty taking his hand that’s resting on her shoulder. “where’s the progress?” betty patronizes him. they’re making him feel worse than he already did. what great co-writers he’s collaborating with.

peter throws a hand up, an eye roll included. “yeah, it’s terrible. can you help me or not?” mj narrows her own eyes at peter from the other end of his bench. she’s not interested in participating when the conversation is about forcing you to celebrate a holiday you don’t like.

“ooh!” betty squeals and squeezes ned’s hand. “you should make a list.” ned grins, leaning his head on hers. “genius, babe.” “a list of what?” peter furrows his eyebrows as he looks between the two of them. “what you love about y/n,” she explains, ned adding on, “stuff you do together, or you appreciate.”

“put whatever you come up with into sentences and voilà,” betty says in her best french accent. “oui oui,” ned agrees, both of them giggling. that doesn’t sound half bad. peter could manage a list about you. “thank you so much, guys. you literally just saved valentine’s day,” he confidently tucks his paper into his pocket. “it’s what we do,” ned tells him coolly.

“you never asked what i think,” mj cuts in, staring down her friends, who reluctantly meet her gaze. she pushes her bag of goldfish aside and raises an eyebrow. “mj, we know how you feel about valentine’s day.” peter presses his lips together. “y/n feels the same way,” mj reminds him dryly.

it’s true, but he doesn’t want to hear that right now. he’s having a breakthrough.

like clockwork, you appear at the table. you slip into the spot next to peter and put down your lunch tray. “what’d i miss?” you comment on the obvious tension, eyeing betty for an explanation. mj gives it to you. “valentine’s day discourse,” she tells you knowingly. peter shifts in his seat, uncomfortable, like he’s been caught doing something he isn’t supposed to.

he technically has.

“yuck,” you murmur, winding your arms around peter’s neck. “yuck, yuck, yuck.” he finds your words ironic because you then kiss his cheek, and peck his lips when he turns his head. peter puts a hand on your side and lets his eyes go up and down your face. a smile spreads across it, which he returns without thinking about. mj huffs in disapproval. she’s seen enough pda.

-

peter makes his list later that night. he decided he isn’t being inauthentic because he’s coming up with everything himself. he breezes right through it, jotting down what he loves most about you across the paper. it’s a mess. scribbled out misspellings and shreds of eraser, single words and whole phrases covering both sides. he’s proud of his actual progress.

he’ll write the official letter tomorrow since you’re coming over tonight. he at least has his material. the next, thankfully final, step is to reword it.

you’re ranting to peter about some drama with one of your teachers. he listens intently as always, chuckling when you crack jokes and grinning the entire time, feeling so lucky to have the most passionate, say whatever is on her mind girlfriend ever. seriously, it’s inspiring to watch.

“no, like, i never know what’s going on in that class,” you snort, peter snaking his arms around your middle from behind. “because you don’t pay attention,” he hums with his face nuzzled into the back of your neck. “because it doesn’t make any sense!” you defend yourself. his lips brush against your bare skin, drawing a giggle out of you.

“back to what i was saying,” your voice drips with sarcasm. the two of you naturally gravitate to his room, you walking in first. “she called on me, and i- what’s this?” you escape peter’s arms and head over to his desk. crap, he was working on your valentine and forgot to put it away. it caught your attention because it’s surrounded by crumpled papers and glitter.

peter was... experimenting... with designs for the front of the card. he’s learned that he isn’t too artistic either.

“wait, don’t read that,“ peter tries, but you’ve already got the list in your hands. he anxiously sucks his lower lip into his mouth and comes to stand next to you.

you first see the ‘dear y/n,’ then focus in on a few other words. my person forever, which makes you coo at the paper. insane (in the best way), which makes you gasp dramatically. i know you don’t like valentine’s day, but...

you drop the card back on the desk and let out a breath, shutting your eyes as irritation creeps in. it wouldn’t be fair for you to be mad at peter because it’s a sweet gesture, it really is. just, not for you personally. you’re on opposite sides of the valentine’s spectrum. you despise it, he sort of loves it. you’d hoped to meet somewhere in the middle.

“i thought we said no gifts,” you keep your voice level and spin around to look at peter. his face is painted with guilt. “it’s a card,” he murmurs, then meets your eyes with his brows knitted together. “i can’t even give you a card?” “i mean...” you shrug and shake your head. “look, peter. we had an agreement. i’m not doing valentine’s day.”

his disappointment comes out in the form of hanging his head. “yeah, you’re right. sorry.”

may tried to tell him this would happen, mj tried to tell him, and now you’re telling him. he should’ve expected it. he isn’t sure why he’s being so mopey about it because he was fully aware of your hatred for anything with the word valentine in it. it still hurts. peter just wishes you’d let him have the one day to love you and only you, give you some special attention.

“it’s nothing against you, babe,” you reassure him, noticing the shift in his mood. you put a hand on his shoulder. “i really just don’t like valentine’s day. it feels so... fake to me.” peter musters up a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. it drops when you loop your arms around his torso.

“if i celebrated, you’d be the first person i’d wanna spend it with.” you punctuate your words with a kiss to his cheek. he rests his chin on your head, you nuzzling your own cheek into his sweater. he’s feeling a bit better now. it’s not about him, that’s what he needs to remind himself. “thanks, baby,” peter speaks lowly into the air. you hum as if to say no problem.

scratch literally everything he’s done.

-

peter rolls over in his bed, rubbing at his eyes as his alarm goes off. it’s today. happy valentine’s day to... himself. he doesn’t think you’d want to hear it.

he’s not as broken up about everything as the other day. you have your reasons for not celebrating, and peter accepts them. hey, he still gets to spend the whole day with you. you’re technically having an unspoken valentine’s date.

he gets up from his bed with a yawn and starts to dig through his drawers for an outfit. you should be over soon.

before you head over to peter’s, you decide to make a quick stop at cvs for a few things. you ended up feeling pretty terrible about snapping on him essentially for loving you. it was over a harmless valentine, something to make you feel good and be an outlet for the hundreds of romantic bones in his body. basically, you were bitter about having a thoughtful boyfriend.

you want to make it up to him by giving him gifts instead. you’ll never be down with the whole exploitive and capitalistic side of valentine’s day, but there’s a deeper meaning to it than what you give it credit for. you see that now. peter was able to show his love for you through a homemade mess of a card, and you felt it. the price tags don’t matter. the meaning does.

dressed in his nicest sweater with his hair all styled, peter answers your knocking at his door. a grin instantly paints his face as he takes you in. you’re bundled up in a coat and holding a bag by your side. “hey,” he greets you and lets you past him. you shut the door behind him, returning the smile and winding an arm around his neck for a hug. his drapes around your back.

“hey. happy valentine’s day.” “happy valentine’s-“ peter realizes what he’s about to say and what you just said, then stops himself. “what?” he breaks the hug, squinting at your odd behavior. you’re the last person he’d expected to hear that from. “it’s valentine’s day. so, happy valentine’s day,” you tell him like it’s nothing.

he stays quiet while you shrug off your coat and throw it over one of the kitchen chairs. you bring your bag along with you, peter following you in. he’s suspicious. intrigued, and suspicious. it’s been less than a day since he last say you. you had a change of heart that fast? you aren’t the biggest valentine’s day anti he knows anymore?

“where’s may?” you wonder aloud, taking both of peter’s hands in your now free ones. he eyes the shopping bag you put down while you lace your fingers together. “with happy. they’re getting brunch.” he’s never particularly psyched to talk about their relationship. it’s always been in a joking way, though. now, he sounds genuinely upset to go over may’s whereabouts.

“they’re so cute,” you comment, tugging on peter’s hands so he looks at you. “you good?” “great,” peter half lies and nods, then presses a reassuring kiss to your cheek. he’s not bad. puzzled is the word. what you say next only adds to it.

“good. i have a few things for you,” you beam at him and grab your shopping bag off the chair. that’s what that’s for? peter isn’t fully sure what you’re up to. it doesn’t stop a smile from stretching across his lips, though.

“what happened to no presents?” he tests you as you reach into the bag. “well, i feel bad about how i acted the other day.” you pull out a heart shaped box of chocolates. “the card was really sweet, and i was too caught off guard to appreciate it. i’m sorry, pete.” peter’s eyes twinkle at you, gazing as you give him a smile with a hint of shyness behind it. you’re leaving your comfort zone and entering his.

“i was wrong and cynical and just, yeah. happy valentine’s day,” you add on and shove the box into his hand. he finally grins, so wide and then lets out a breathy laugh. “thanks, y/n. i know it was probably hard to shop being surrounded by this stuff.” he holds up the box. he’s right. you’ll unfortunately be seeing pink and red for weeks. “it was, but i did it for you.” you happily open up your arms for him.

peter puts down the chocolates and pulls you into his arms, his cheek squished against the side of your head as he hugs you to his chest. “oh my god, i love you so much,” he mumbles out, you squeezing him in response. “i love you, pete.” you press a quick kiss to his neck and hold him at arm’s length so you can see him. “i have something else for you.”

“baby,” peter coos, a pout on his lips. “you don’t have to do all of this. i would’ve been fine without the chocolates, even.” “stop, you deserve it,” you shut down the part of him that’s way too nice and selfless. “you’re my real present,” he says lower and with a toothy smile. shaking your head, you reach behind you and into the bag.

he can’t believe you’ve switched stances on valentine’s day. you’re the present pusher, and he’s refusing them. peter thinks it’s some sort of miracle that you’re not only acknowledging the holiday, you’re also partaking in it. his hopeless romantic side tells him it’s actually love, and it is. that’s the cheesy, hallmark movie truth. you suffered through shopping at a heart themed cvs because you love him. simple.

you return with a pink envelope that you place into peter’s hand. his face softens as he closes his fingers around it. “y/n, you made me a card?” “kind of,” you laugh at his overstatement. it’s obviously pre-made. you’d used a pen to fill it out in the store, scribbled a few words and tucked it into the envelope.

“it really doesn’t compare to yours, though,” you simultaneously warn and compliment him. peter dismisses you with a lighthearted click of his tongue. “oh, shush. that was only a rough draft.” “which proves my point even more. open it.” you grip onto the bottom of his sweater and grin.

he keeps his eyes on you while ripping open the envelope, then looks down and chuckles at the gag of the card. it has r2d2 and r4d4 from star wars on the front. inside is already written, “r4 is red and r2 is blue. if i was the force then i’d be with you.” you giggle to yourself, watching him read what you wrote next. i love you more every day, especially on valentine’s. xo, y/n.

peter holds the card to his side and slings an arm around your waist. “they make star wars valentines?” he murmurs, another smile breaking out on his face, one that you of course return. you use his sweater to pull him closer. “apparently. perfect for you.” peter tosses the card down next to the chocolates, both arms now holding you.

“thank you so much, baby. you’re an angel,” he sighs and pecks your lips after. “call me cupid,” you answer.

you give him a longer kiss back, tilting your head up to deepen it. your hands find their place on his biceps, earning a hum from peter as he moves his lips against yours. you can feel his love in every little movement, how he hugs your waist like you’re made of glass, rests his forehead against yours. when your lips mutually detach, peter speaks first, voice slightly husky.

“happy valentine’s day, cupid.”

you breathe out, peter closing his eyes in content.

“happy valentine’s day, r2.”

[rwprincess]

Midnight Sun'd Prologue (Brian Johnson x Fem!Reader)

Masterlist

Word Count: 10.5K (She like...20 pages long. Sorry).

Synopsis: My movie/Canon Prologue, but from Brian’s POV. That’s right, I’m Midnight Sun-ing this b*tch.

CW: Underage marijuana smoking, suicidal ideation, self-deprecating thoughts/self-doubt, low self-esteem, swearing, child abuse, parents being terrible, sexuality (since this is based on the movie, nothing is really outside the scope of the movie in terms of content).

Saturday, March 24th, 1984

Shermer High School, Shermer Illinois

Brian knew why he was here. In fact, he thanked his lucky stars that Saturday school, or detention, rather, had been his punishment. If this hadn’t been an extremely out-of-character first offense for him, he surely would have been suspended, or even expelled. His family had made their disappointment clear, especially when his mother told him to find a way to study and make amends today, even if he was asked to just sit in a room with strangers and reflect on what he did. When he arrived in the library, he was surprised to see Claire Standish already sitting there. She, of course, did not look up or make eye contact with him, but he chose to sit at the table behind her nonetheless. Before he could gather the courage to ask her what a popular, polished girl like herself could possibly be doing here, another two figures approached the doorway. Andrew Clark’s large, stocky frame loomed there for a moment before excitedly spying Claire. Again, no attempt was made to include Brian; he was practically invisible at this school, which was a big part of his underlying problems and self esteem here at Shermer High. It wasn’t so much that Brian wanted or needed popular people like Claire or Andrew to notice him. He didn’t really look up to them or desire their attention. It was just that, sometimes, it felt like everyone looked through him, as though he wasn’t even there. Adults acknowledged him, sure. He was polite and an overachiever, the perfect student. But his peers didn’t take much stock in him. He had a few loyal, true friends, but rarely did anyone outside of his particular interest groups reach out to him.

As Brian settled into a seat behind Claire, he took note of the second figure who had entered, the one who came in shortly after Andrew. It was her. Brian had to restrain himself from gawking when she entered the library, as she was one of the absolute last people he could ever picture earning a detention. Brian knew her from his English class last year; he had been stunned by her beauty the moment she entered the room that first day of high school and felt the same nervous, heart-pounding sensation he felt now, seeing her enter the library. He lamentably had zero classes with her this year, but he would see her in the hallways sometimes and that old familiar feeling would come rushing back to him, reminding him of the crush he had on her all last year. Back then, he had sat behind her, across the room and would catch himself staring at her or admiring her answers and volunteered opinions. His strong suit was in the more concrete subjects: science, math, that sort of thing. So the insightful analyses she would give always impressed him, and through them he got the sense that she was smart but also kind. This was precisely why he was shocked to see her here now, having earned the same consequence he had for bringing a weapon into school. But he couldn’t imagine her doing anything like that, anything to warrant this. He not-so-discreetly watched her as she hurried across the room and took a seat in the front row opposite to him. She, like Claire and Andrew, had not made eye contact or acknowledged him. Her seeing right through him hurt more, though.

Brian had sat down, but had not quite unpacked as he was still reeling from the revelation of Y/N being in the same detention as him, and that meant he would be in the same room as her for nine hours. He hadn’t even noticed John Bender stalk into the library, surveying the landscape that he was clearly king of. That is, until Bender stopped in front of him and snapped his fingers to get his attention and indicated for him to move out of his seat. Even if Brian weren’t the type to try to accommodate someone, a people pleaser, he would have followed John Bender’s instructions. Everyone in school knew of his reputation, and while some things were probably a lie (like throwing flaming toilet paper over Mrs. Applebaum’s house), some were definitely true, including his penchant for getting into fights. Brian had never had to fight someone before and he was pretty sure he lacked the capability to do so. Simply put: he would get his ass kicked. So he got up immediately and moved to the next seat over...right behind Y/N. He noticed that she stiffened, sat up straighter, as he slid into the seat behind her. So she had noticed his existence. But from her body language, he assumed that she didn’t particularly enjoy his presence. ‘Great. Perfect way to start this whole shitty day,’ he thought. At one point, Brian would have fancied himself an optimist, but lately that attitude was all but gone...not that his current situation helped much.

He also noticed the girl with black clothes, heavy makeup, and messy hair quickly walk along the outside of the tables and sit behind him, facing away from not only himself, but the entire group. He raised his eyebrows in disbelief, ‘Should be an interesting time,’ he thought while taking stock of her, Bender, the populars, and...Y/N. It still puzzled him that she could be here. Bender made total sense. Everyone knew that he practically lived here in detention. Based on how she looked and seemed to make herself comfortable, Brian guessed that the girl behind him also was a regular here. While he didn’t exactly expect Claire or Andy to be here, he wasn’t hugely shocked by it. Claire probably skipped school or was rude to a teacher or something and Andrew was an asshole anyway. He fit into the jock stereotype pretty well, all brawn and no brains, picking on those that he saw as weaker than him. Maybe that’s why he was here.

Vice Principal Vernon walked haughtily in, looking down on each and every one of them; a lord surveying his fiefdom. Brian’s posture stiffened as he both tried to show respect and unconsciously showed his fear of the man. The last conversation with him had also involved his parents and that was abhorrent, a total disaster. The recollection of the event made him nauseous. Right after he spoke, Claire raised her hand, “Excuse me sir, I think there’s been a mistake. I know it’s detention, but, um...I don’t think I belong in here.” Internally, Brian rolled his eyes. He didn’t really know Claire (he suspected that no one really truly did), but he had always been under the impression that she was full of herself. All of the popular clique seemed to be that way, just full of arrogance. And here she was announcing how she was better than all of them in front of them. Vernon completely ignored her statement and told them it was 7:06, on the dot. Brian quickly looked down at his watch and aligned it to Vernon’s time. He was very particular about organization and precision.

As Vernon started his speech about rules, Brian tried to shift slightly over, get comfortable. But Vernon looked right into him and Brian could swear he saw into the depths of his soul as he said, “You will not move from these seats,” and pointed right at him. He froze like a deer in the headlights and quickly moved back. Brian had almost always blindly followed authority and now was definitely not the time to change that. Vernon continued and Brian only half-listened, looking around to gauge how the rest of the group was reacting, until he heard him say, “Good. So, maybe you’ll decide whether or not you care to return-” He saw this as the perfect time to redeem himself and started to stand up, raising his hand.

“Um, you know, I can answer that right now, sir. And that would be a no for me-”

“Sit down, Johnson.”

“Thank you, sir.” Brian sat back down, gulping. His embarrassment was only made worse noticing that Y/N had turned around to look at him when he started speaking. He wasn’t so invisible now, just his luck.

*~~~~*

There was little to no surprise that Bender antagonized the group. His main targets seemed to be Claire and Andrew, but he was making snide or crude remarks to everyone, and this made Brian very uneasy. He hated conflict and confrontation, which was probably why he had brought a flare gun to school rather than talk to his Shop teacher about replacing his failing grade or talk to his parents about how much he was truly struggling. He tried to take his mom’s advice about just doing work. He tried to convince the others to just write their assigned essays and not end up in a fight, but it didn’t work. He reasoned that he could at least do the right thing, but he couldn’t help but keep getting drawn into their conversations. It was almost like watching a trashy soap opera...or a staged wrestling match. “Go to hell!” Claire screamed at Bender, and Brian looked nervously to the door. Vernon surely heard that and would come storming back in, right?

But he didn’t, so Andy continued their conversation and got in a new dig at Bender, “You know, Bender, you don’t even count. If you disappeared forever it wouldn’t make any difference. You may as well not even exist anymore.” Brian gulped, thinking about his recent and frequent thoughts about how he himself ‘may as well not even exist anymore.’ He was doing...okay since the day he had had a semi-plan to take his own life, but the feelings didn’t just stop. He was still failing Shop, of all classes. He was still a disappointment and burden to his parents. He was still invisible at school, to Y/N. None of that went away when Mr. Ryan found the gun in his locker. Bender turned Andrew’s comment around and said he’d go out and join some clubs.

Now, Brian saw his opportunity to be less invisible, maybe. “I’m in a math club!” He blurted out. No dice. Bender and Claire just continued bickering, ignoring him completely. But he couldn’t help it when he stated “I’m in the Physics Club, too,” in their direction just hoping, praying that someone would acknowledge him. He hadn’t counted on that person being Y/N, though. She’d turned slightly towards him and his blue eyes flickered to hers and he froze. Having been lost in the argument between the others, he had almost forgotten that she was there. She gave him a gentle smile and a nod that made him gulp. He’d suddenly failed to remember how to breathe, how to function and his mind was only filled with a channel of ‘Oh shit. She’s looking at me.’

But then she added, “I’m in the Drama Club.” Of course, he knew that, but it was still nice for her, of all people, to be making conversation with him. He was immediately forced to snap out of it, though, when Bender addressed him.

“Excuse me a sec. What are you babbling about?” While Brian hated the look John gave him (it was much too similar to his parents’ frustrated looks when he was clearly ‘bothering’ them with something), Brian felt compelled to answer. He had wanted to be noticed, to be involved in the conversation, right?

“Well, what I’d said was, I’m in the Math Club, the Latin Club, uh, and the Physics Clu-Physics Club,” he stumbled through his words nervously. He felt regret instantly as Bender turned it around as a slight on Claire, and also managed to insult him by calling him a dork in the process. Still, he yearned for his attention and approval, so he eagerly answered John’s follow up questions. He just wanted to get along with everyone and have them accept him, and even though John was just using his input as ammunition against Claire, he liked that he was at least being included.

*~~~~*

It was a long, dragging morning. It was only around 10AM and topics of conversation seemed to already run out. Everyone was now more or less keeping to themselves. At first, Brian thought about writing his essay, as he said he planned to, but why bother? There were still many hours to fill, and how was he possibly supposed to answer the prompt of Who Am I? He truly did not know. He’d actually been pondering that a lot lately. All of his life he was praised for his smarts, but the ‘real world’ was showing him that that didn’t mean jack shit. Sure, he could understand difficult concepts and dissect complex equations, but that meant nothing if he couldn’t apply it. He thought he was taking the easy way out with Shop. It was meant to be a class he didn’t have to worry about; a stress-free A to keep his GPA up while juggling various clubs and volunteer opportunities to put on his college applications next year. But it ended up being a total nightmare. He was absolutely terrible at it, and he had never failed at anything before. Now the burn-outs and underachievers had the upper hand and were able to make their projects work and look good and he had...nothing. He failed so miserably that it tanked his self-esteem and now he was stuck in an identity crisis. It was much too early on a Saturday to confront those demons, so instead he chose to sit and daydream. And subconsciously, as with many teenage boys, his attention fell to girls. As much as he thought Claire was self-centered and spoiled, he had to admit that she was attractive. She carefully curated herself to be so. She had perfect, beautiful red hair that was never out of place, flawless makeup, perfectly fitting chic clothes...and she was staring into space licking and biting her lip, which had him completely flustered. Y/N only added to it by adjusting and stretching in her seat. Her beauty was more effortless than Claire’s, or at least seemed less...intentional. She did not have the designer clothes and her hair was more natural than trendy but alluring in her own right, and the way she was pushing her chest out was not helping. He could feel the shift and tightness in his khakis and tried to nonchalantly clear his throat, but now Y/N was turned three-quarters around and could clearly see him, so he tried to sneak his hat into his lap and acted like nothing was going on by setting his head on the desk. ‘Oh shit. Oh fuck.’ were the chorus of his thoughts as he could see her quickly turn back around and face forward. ‘I’m sure she thinks I’m a creep now. Great going, Johnson,’ he chastised himself.

Vernon was almost a welcome sight when he strode into the library at 10:20 to allow them to use the “lavatory.” Brian almost let out a sigh of relief. Almost. When they returned to the library and it was clear that Vernon wouldn’t return for a while, Bender started ripping up a book and when he threw it at Brian, the latter took that as his cue to walk away. He spotted Y/N looking through the catalogue of books and approached her. “Hey.” He nodded in her direction, trying to play it cool and seem neutral. ‘Smooth. Great opening,’ he thought. But to his surprise, she actually said ‘Hi’ back and smiled. He had no idea what to talk about and didn’t really think this through, but the black-clad girl let out a startling, “HA!” that made them both jump.

Brain looked back to the others and heard Andrew sarcastically say, “Oh, you’re breaking my heart,” to Claire.

“Sporto?” Bender asked, “Do you get along with your parents?” Brian started to look between the two of them nervously.

“Well, if I say yes I’m an idiot right?” Andrew responded. Bender leapt over the ramp’s banister and started at the other boy.

“You’re an idiot anyway. But if you say you get along with your parents, then you’re a liar too.” Not only did Brian not like being involved in confrontation, he also hated being witness to it. As Andrew followed Bender, he felt compelled to go break it up, put a stop to this.

“You want me to turn it up?” Bender asked, flipping off Andrew as Brian stepped between them, placing a hand on one of each of their shoulders. They smacked his hands away, almost in sync and he withdrew, but he knew words could be just as powerful as actions.

“I, I don’t like my parents either. I don’t know. Their idea of parental compassion is just...whacko.” Brian confessed.

“Dork? You are a parent’s wet dream, okay?” Bender replied, clapping him on his shoulder. It was a friendly enough gesture, but it actually dealt a devastating blow. Brian knew he was a disappointment to his parents. He was being open and honest with the group and was shut down immediately anyway. “...face it, you're a neo-maxi-zoom-dweebie. What would you be out doing if you weren’t making yourself a better citizen?” Another hit. This one made Brian sink against one of the tables. He hung his head and didn’t even notice Y/N approach him until she softly placed her hand on his shoulder.

“You okay?” She offered, gazing into his eyes. He was terrified that she would be able to read him and to see the truth, to see the sad and scared kid he truly was inside. Instead, he stiffened up and sat rigidly, clearing his throat of emotion.

“Yeah, thanks.” He also tried his best to ignore that she was touching him. If he weren’t in detention being told he was the epitome of geek by John Bender, he’d have sworn this were a dream. Bender now moved his disdain to Claire, asking if she were a virgin. Y/N shifted uncomfortably away from Brian and crossed her arms over her chest, but still stood next to him, watching the same drama unfold. Bender and Andrew soon stood in front of them, fully in a heated argument and Bender took a swing. Brian didn’t think twice and reflexively shot his arm up to shield Y/N. Sure, his crush on her might be stupid or silly, but he was not about to let her get caught in this crossfire and get hurt. He watched as Andrew wrestled Bender to the floor and Bender said, “I don’t want to get into this with you, man...cuz I’d kill you.” Andrew let him up and they seemed to separate and cool down, so Brian finally moved his arm back down, assuming the danger towards Y/N was gone but he was on-guard still, ready to move again if he needed to. “It’s real simple. I’d kill you and then your fucking parents would sue me and it would be a big mess, and I don’t care about you enough to bother.” For some reason, this hit Brian hard and he had to look away, look down to escape. But then he heard a click and his head shot up. Bender had pulled out a switchblade. His eyes went wide and he looked cautiously at Y/N who looked just as shocked. They all relaxed a little when he stabbed it into a chair instead of Andrew’s flesh, but immediately panicked again when the door audibly unlatched and opened. They scrambled to get to their seats, Bender quickly striding to the front and sitting far away from Andy so as not to implicate himself. But that meant that he had stolen Y/N’s seat. On her original route to it, she diverted and sat quickly and silently next to Brian. He swallowed hard in response.

Instead of Vernon, Carl the janitor walked in. They collectively sighed with relief and he addressed Brian. “Brian, how ya doin’?” Brian quickly averted his eyes, both embarrassed to be seen here by Carl (he stayed late in many clubs and had built up a good rapport with the man and didn’t need him thinking less of him for being in detention) and by being seen as associated with him by his peers. Carl was a great guy, really funny and nice; accommodated every need each one of his clubs had...but Brian was still a teenager and image was everything and being thought of as ‘dweeb who is friends with the janitor’ was not how he wanted to be seen.

“Your dad work here?” Bender inquired, smirking deviously. Brian just shook his head in response and didn’t answer Carl, either. “Carl, can I ask you a question? How does one become a janitor?” Bender continued.

“You want to become a janitor?” Carl asked, knowing that Bender didn’t really want to know.

“No, I just want to know how one becomes one. Andrew here is very interested in pursuing a career in the custodial arts.” Bender glanced over at Andrew and smirked again, pleased with his implied put-down.

“Oh really? You guys think I’m some untouchable peasant, serf, peon? Maybe so. But following a broom around after shitheads like you for the last eight years, I’ve learned a couple of things.” Carl looked towards Brian and Y/N, “I look through your letters.” Brian thought he saw her stiffen and freeze, just a little bit, as if Carl were addressing her. She suddenly shifted away from Brian and he wasn’t sure what to make of that. “...I am the eyes and the ears of this institution, my friend.” Carl stopped and smiled, “By the way. That clock is twenty minutes fast.” Brian looked at it and then his watch, noting that he was right. He wasn’t sure if he should adjust his wrist piece or not; to go with the time on the wall or the time Vernon was keeping. But he couldn’t be bothered with the choice when Bender stood up and faced his table. He was afraid of what he might do or say to them, but he simply nodded towards Y/N’s seat, indicating that she could have it back.

“I’m good for now,” she said, surprising Brian. He assumed she would have moved back, a moment ago she moved away from him, but now she was looking at him out of the corner of her eye before glancing back up at John, who was raising an inquisitive eyebrow. “Thanks for not dicking with my stuff though,” she said.

“Oh, shit.” Bender said “Do you think I should steal something or has the moment passed?” The tension seemed to drop and they all smiled as he went back to his seat, but he turned his attention back their way. “So, you’ve been pretty quiet, what’s your name?” Brian had a bad habit of blurting out. He liked answering questions as it was, showing his knowledge. A lot of the time, it didn’t matter if he was being asked or not. So, without thinking, he responded to Bender’s question and told him Y/N’s name. It was a reflex, but one he instantly regretted, feeling like he just shot himself in the foot. Bender gave him a look and he steeled himself for his worst, for the mockery sure to come, but instead he just looked at her and followed up with “Is that true? Is that your name?”

She didn’t acknowledge his weirdness either. She simply nodded and told John, “Yeah, (Y/N). Or, I guess you could call me (Y/N/N) if you want,” and Brian let out a quiet shaky exhale in relief. That could have been...disastrous. After a moment, while Bender was otherwise occupied, she turned to him and said, “Thank you, for earlier. I mean, blocking me when those two were getting into it.” He felt his heart race; he wasn’t sure she had even noticed that earlier, even though he wasn’t exactly subtle.

“N-no problem.” He responded, trying to restrain the smile creeping up onto his face. He wanted to play it cool, like it was no big deal, like that’s just what manly men such as himself do: put themselves in harm’s way for others.

Vernon came in to dismiss them for lunch much too early for his liking. He didn’t really have much of a chance to talk to Y/N while she was sitting next to him, and as soon as they were allowed to mill about like the caged animals they currently were, the remaining members of their detention gravitated towards Bender near the center of the library. Brian was slightly disappointed when she wandered off into the stacks as Bender looked through books and Claire continued her daydreaming. Not really sure what to do with himself, Brian folded his long legs over one of the ramp railings and sat atop it, hunched over. He looked up when Bender called out, “Hey, Peachy!” There were a few moments of silence before Y/N looked back over in their direction and Brian froze, immediately disliking Bender addressing her as such and worrying what uncouth thing he might say to her. But he just asked her what she could be in detention for, because she didn’t seem the type, which Brian wholeheartedly agreed with. He waited intently for the answer, as every interaction he had with her (or every observation, rather), she seemed so...sweet.

“Oh. Well, you know how in Biology they dissect like, frogs and shit every year?” She looked a little defeated and a blush crept up her cheeks as she continued, “I---sort of stole and freed the frogs.” Brian couldn’t help but laugh. That seemed like something you shouldn’t get detention for, anyway, but it was definitely on-par with the personality he knew her for. He felt relieved that the reason aligned with how he thought of her. She was in here for something nice, and debatably, the right thing. His heart melted a little when she told Bender that she had researched enough to let the frogs go responsibly; that she would have adopted them if they wouldn’t have made it on their own and he couldn’t help but smile in her direction. Bender, of course, moved on quickly, scanning one of the books in his stack to find new material to talk about, to bother the girls with, but Brian’s gaze was still fixated on Y/N. She was running her fingers along spines of books, seemingly in her own world. He felt like maybe it was fated that they were both here, like he was getting a second chance. He still hadn’t really conjured up the courage to talk to her yet, but they were only half-way through their day; there was still time.

“Claire? Y/N? You wanna see a picture of a guy with elephantitis of the nuts?” Bender asked, “Pretty tasty. How do you think he rides a bike? Oh Claire, would you ever consider dating a guy like this?”

“Wait,” Y/N’s eyes lit up and she looked their way again. “Elephantiasis? Like the movie The Elephant Man? Great movie! Really sad though.” Brian grinned at the way she scrunched her eyebrows together in remembering the emotion from the movie. He had seen it, too. It was really good...and touching. Maybe that could be his ice-breaker. Movies were normal things that normal teenagers talked about, right? He didn’t really notice that Bender and Claire were still conversing until it implicated him, though.

“Oh! Watch what you say. Brian here is a cherry.” Brian looked at him, startled.

“A cherry?” He asked, indignantly, cheeks flaring up with a red hue. “I am not a cherry.” He didn’t need Bender calling him out like this, embarrassing him. He didn’t need the obvious association that the nerd was a virgin. Especially in front of beautiful girls, particularly Y/N. She didn’t need to know that he was an inexperienced loser.

“When have you ever gotten laid?” Bender asked, doubtfully

“I’ve laid lots of times.”

“Name ONE.” Bender said, sarcastically, hoping to catch him in a trap.

“She lives in Canada. Met her at Niagara Falls; You wouldn’t know her.” Brian said, prepared with this answer from previous conversations about this topic. It wasn’t the first time he’d been involved in a conversation about virginity that he couldn’t be entirely honest about, nor was it the first time he had been mocked for being a virgin or doubted about the non-existent relations that he didn’t have. Even though part of his brain felt like it was glaringly obvious to the outside world and must have been stamped on his forehead that girls did not typically talk to him, nor had he even kissed a girl before, but he still lied about it anyway. He knew he didn’t precisely have an ‘image’ to protect, but he didn’t want to seem like a total lost cause or dweeby stereotype.

Bender, however, wasn’t having it. “You ever lay anyone around here?” He scoffed and Brian panicked. He had noticed that Y/N had turned back to the aisle of books and was praying she wasn’t listening, and Claire didn’t seem to be paying attention, so he tried to gesture to Bender to keep it down, to let him off the hook before either girl noticed him or this conversation. Bender immediately twisted it around and attacked him with it, though. Brian felt his heart being squeezed and felt overwhelmed, instantly, as Bender said, “Oh. You and Claire did it.”

“Oh, uh I-Let’s just drop it, okay? We’ll talk about it later,” Brian attempted to get out of it again, praying that John would have one ounce of mercy on him. However, Brian was never really very lucky.

“Well, Brian is trying to tell me that in addition to the number of girls in the Niagara Falls area, that presently you and he are riding the hobby horse.” Brian’s eyes slammed shut in embarrassment.

“You little pig,” Claire growled at him and his eyes shot back open wide. He scrambled to defend himself.

“No! I’m not! John said I was a cherry and I said I wasn’t. That’s it. That’s all I said.”

“Well then what were you motioning to Claire for?” Bender followed up, not giving Brian any wiggle room.

“You know, I don’t appreciate this very much, Brian.” Claire sounded more disappointed and hurt than anything, which made Brian feel like a slug, instantly. He didn’t mean to implicate her or to bring her down. He was just trying to hide his embarrassment from John and the girls.

“He is lying!” Brian tried one last attempt to deflect.

“Oh, you weren’t motioning to Claire?”

“You know he’s lying, right?”

“Were you, or were you not motioning to Claire?” Brian hated this. He’d been stuffed in lockers before and yearned for that over the torture Bender was inflicting now. He couldn’t save face; either he was a disgusting creep saying he had had sex with Claire when he didn’t, or he’d have to tell them the truth and feel humiliated at telling everyone he was a virgin. He grit his teeth and chose to go with the latter.

“Yeah, but it was only- it was only because I didn’t want her to know I was a virgin, okay?” They looked almost...shocked by his response, which he wasn’t expecting. He thought it would be a ‘Well, duh, you’re a virgin, Johnson! Who would want to touch you?’ But Claire and Y/N looked surprised. “Excuse me for being a virgin, I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you want me to know you were a virgin?” Claire asked honestly, like it was no big deal. If she only knew...

“Because it’s personal business. It’s my personal, private business.”

“Well, Brian, it doesn’t sound like you’re doing any business,” Bender snuck in another jab and Brian was brought down to what he knew all along, that they were just going to laugh at him.

“I think it’s okay for a guy to be a virgin.” Claire’s unexpected response gave him instant relief. She was taking his side and Bender had no more ammo. Brian perked up even more when Y/N agreed with her. It wasn’t an embarrassing secret for him now because they didn’t mind. They almost seemed to admire him for it. The thought caused his lips to twitch and he hid his smile by leaning his head against his knee.

*~~~~*

During lunch, Bender didn’t have any food, so his appetite turned to targeting the rest of the detainees again. He started in on Claire for a bit, but then came over to taunt Brian. It seemed like it could be friendly, at first, as John just examined his lunch. But as he drew out each item, his tone became more and more sarcastic. “Here’s my impression of life at Big Bri’s house.” Bender went on to mock him, painting his life like it was some episode of Leave It To Beaver where the family would all hug it out at the end. Brian’s throat became dry and he could feel eyes on both Bender and himself, trying to judge his reactions to John’s farce. He hated being such an easy target. He hadn’t done anything towards John personally, but he was still constantly in the hot seat because John could get away with it and the others would laugh and enjoy it. At least Andy fought back...even Claire did. And Bender didn’t even really bother to mess with Allison. She had an aura of ‘don’t fuck with me,’ and he didn’t even touch her as a subject, even though she was just as odd and out of place as Brian. Not to mention, he was wrong. It wasn’t all peachy-keen happy endings at Brian’s house. If it were, Brian wouldn’t be here today.

Still, it was hard not to be drawn in by John, and he watched his next dramatic retelling of his own home life in stunned horror. John’s dad called him terrible names in this act and hit him. “Is that for real?” Brian asked, brows furrowed. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe John, it was just that...well, the situation sucked and he needed to be told it wasn’t true. Like a kid hearing that a ghost story was made up and there was nothing to fear. But he knew by John’s pained expression that it was, even before he spoke.

“Wanna come over some time?” Bender asked him and he flinched away. Andrew didn’t believe him though, and questioned it so John revealed to them all his very real cigar burn scar on his arm, claiming he got it from spilling paint in the garage. The group collectively flinched and no one moved for a few moments while Bender said, “I don’t need to sit with you fuckin’ dildos anymore,” and raged through the library.

“You shouldn’t have said that,” Claire admonished Andrew.

“How would I know? I mean he lies about everything anyway.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.” Y/N snapped at him and looked back towards Bender as though she wanted to follow him. Brian tried to will her silently not to; he didn’t really trust that Bender would control his emotions and she might get hurt. He felt relieved when she turned around, but then his heart began pounding once more as she gathered her lunch into the sack and stood up. ‘No, don’t do it, Y/N.’ He stared at her, but she didn’t seem to notice as she cautiously walked past and crept up the library stairs to where Bender was and sat next to him. Brian felt a little calmed when Bender didn’t lash out; he just rolled his eyes but stayed rooted to the spot. Meanwhile, the rest of the group at their lunch in silence.

*~~~~*

Brian felt guilty for leaving Bender behind, for allowing him to sacrifice himself for the group. Hell, they all did. Especially when Vernon started shoving him around and saying he was going to be in jail. Brian couldn’t help but wonder if he could become like John. It’s not like he was born into that life. But he had it tough at home, struggled at school, and had problems with authority (particularly when they lied). Brian could see some parallels. He, too, was unhappy at home. While his parents didn’t beat him like John’s did him, or berate him to the same degree, he couldn’t help but feel like a disappointment. And he felt like he was just slipping. Now he had broken school rules, brought a gun to school, watched as others destroyed school property, and was gaining a healthy distrust of authority by seeing how Vernon acted today. He’d even corrected him once, when counting Bender’s detentions, not that the truth seemed to matter to Vernon anyway. What if he continued down this path? What if things just kept getting worse at home? Would it really be that bad to be like Bender? Despite being a total jerkwad, he had the charisma to draw people in. He’d even had Y/N eat lunch with him! It just didn’t seem like the deal was all bad when he looked at it that way. ‘What’s next? Are you going to take up smoking?’ His brain scolded him, even though he had completely forgotten that he had drugs stashed in his pants right now...until Bender fell through the ceiling and asked for them back. He dug them uncomfortably out of his underwear and handed the bag over. Bender took off to smoke in the library and Brian realized he had a choice to make. Boy, was he tempted. ‘What’s one more rule broken today?’ He felt more emboldened when Claire stood up and followed John. Andrew tried to talk him out of it, shaking his head. Brian drummed his hands on the desk. He wasn’t sure he’d have another opportunity. Most of his friends and acquaintances didn’t do drugs...to his knowledge, anyway. He thought momentarily about his cousin Kendall, and how he started smoking pot and didn’t feel like he belonged anywhere. ‘You already don’t feel like you belong anywhere,’ His mind reminded him, and with that, the decision was made; what did he have to lose? So he slunk off to join Bender and Claire.

It was...definitely a different experience. Brian didn’t care for the way his thoughts seemed so disjointed, that he couldn’t keep one train of thought going. For someone who was known for his intelligence and felt like his brain was his one good quality, it was a little scary to have that slip away. But, there was a sort of numbness that came with the drug that made him worry less about that. He felt less worried and anxious in general, actually. His focus was being pulled in too many directions to wonder what his parents would think or if he was saying the right thing, or if this could even be a mistake. He felt relaxed and oddly open. He was even making Bender and Claire laugh, which he hadn’t expected. It was like there was a new persona underneath that was unlocked. He didn’t know what he was doing, but it wasn’t the worst thing ever. He was, however, surprised by how long the effects lasted. It was a little more than an hour later and the whole group was sitting in a circle (Y/N and Allison never seemed to have joined them in the marijuana. Not that he had noticed, anyway) and Allison was telling the group that she was a nymphomaniac, which was exciting. Particularly to someone with zero experience, to hear someone claim she’d done ‘almost everything’ was utterly fascinating. However, his head was still swimming and he seemed to have a lack of filter between his brain and his mouth. He couldn’t catch his words fast enough, which was often a problem for him sober, but now it wasn’t just supplying corrections or information, the more cruel thoughts slipped through, too.

“Obviously she’s crazy if she’s screwing her shrink,” he added to the group without even thinking. Y/N was sitting to his right and promptly hit him on the arm with the back of her hand.

“Brian!” She hissed and gave him a glare. ‘Oh shit. Did I say that out loud?’ He thought, looking at her with wide-eyed fear. The realization sobered him up pretty quickly and he was much more in control of his thoughts and words after that. Despite the weed taking away most of his worries, he still cared how she perceived him. From then on, he was more focused on the conversations in front of him and how he added to them, but it was harder to control his emotions when Andrew began telling them about why he was here today.

“You guys know what I did to get in here today? I taped Larry Lester’s buns together.” Andy said, with a hint of a smile. ‘How can he just smirk like that? He has to know it was a shitty thing to do and that he hurt Larry.’ Brian thought. He knew Larry had been attacked this week by one of the sports, but he didn’t know who. Larry didn’t even know the kid’s name, had never talked to him, but still got jumped anyway. An experience that Brian was all too familiar with.

“That was you?” Brian asked, somewhat surprised, but started to get angry.

“You know him?”

“Yeah, I know him.” He said quietly, trying not to let the anger bubble past the surface.

He had to bite his tongue when Andy made Larry into a joke, “Then you know how hairy he is right?” Bender and Claire chuckled at his joke, at him bullying one of Brian’s friends. ‘I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything different,’ Brian thought dejectedly. But he was hoping that they were all better people than...this. The realization that they weren’t better than that, coupled with Andrew expressing his feelings about his father got Brian thinking. “I...hate him. He’s like this mindless machine that I can’t even relate to anymore.” Brian felt so disconnected from his parents, too, even though the rest of the group thought they lived in a fairytale. He was their pride and joy once, but it felt like ever since he started high school, he just wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t a good enough student, he didn’t do his chores right, he wasn’t setting himself up for college correctly, he wasn’t a good role model or brother to his sister...it all just added up and weighed on him immensely. He covered his face with one of his hands to hide his emotion and expression from the group. He didn’t even react when Andrew started screaming what his father had told him, but when everything settled down, he took the chance to speak.

“That’s like me, you know, with my grades. Like, when I step outside myself. A-and I look in on myself...and-and I see me, I don’t like what I see,” it was a difficult thing to admit but after what Allison and Andrew shared, he felt like maybe this could be the space to do so, too.

“What’s wrong with you? Why don’t you like yourself?” Claire asked. He knew it was meant to be nice, encouraging even, but it just made him feel worse. This beautiful, popular, and rich girl asking someone why they weren’t happy with themselves? Like she could have any sort of clue. No wonder it baffled her; she had everything. But he could also see Y/N nodding vigorously, agreeing with Claire. He didn’t want to put her on the same plane as Claire, he felt like she would be above that. But she clearly didn’t understand the way he felt, either. That just made him feel more alone.

“It’s stupid, but,” Brian said, “because I’m failing shop. We had this assignment to make this, uh, ceramic elephant. Anyways we were supposed to-it was, it was a lamp. When you pulled the trunk, the light was supposed to go on. But my light didn’t go on. I got an F on it. I’ve never got an F in my life. When I signed up, y’know, for the course, I thought I was playing it smart. I was, uh, ‘I’ll take Shop, it’s an easy way to maintain my grade point average.’”

“Why’d you think it would be easy?” Bender chimed in, not making eye contact. Brian had been lost in his own thoughts and his story and not looking at the group either, really. He had wanted to be honest, but he was also embarrassed. Honesty would have been hard to maintain if he was looking at them and seeing their judgments in real time.

“Have you seen some of the dopes that take Shop?” Brian asked, not realizing it would strike a nerve.

“I take Shop.” Bender responded, now turning his eyes to him, “You must be a fucking idiot.”

“I’m a fucking idiot because I can’t make a lamp?” Brian snapped defensively. He should have known it would be a mistake to put himself on the line like this, to open himself up to their judgement. He knew Bender was lashing out because he was insulted, but that didn’t make his jibes hurt any less.

“No, you’re a genius because you can’t make a lamp.” Bender shot back, sarcastically.

“What do you know about Trigonometry?” Brian fought back.

“I could care less about Trigonometry.”

“Bender, there’s no engineering without trigonometry.”

“Without lamps, there’d be no light.” Bender replied grumpily, grasping at straws for a fair comparison.

“Okay, so neither one of you is any better than the other one,” Claire jumped in. Before either of them responded, Allison added her own odd addition.

“I can write with my toes!” Both Bender and Brian looked at her incredulously, but she did calm the two of them down and add levity to the moment.

“I can make spaghetti!” Brian said cheerfully after a moment. Y/N smiled at him and his heart fluttered. He returned the smile and for a moment, forgot all about his blunder. Maybe that smile had given him the courage to participate again, to be open and vulnerable. Claire and Bender began fighting again, which wasn’t a surprise, but it opened a door for Brian to ask what had been weighing on his mind since their circle began. He felt like they had all bonded. They had told each other some of their deepest secrets and biggest pains, but did that really make them friends? “I know it’s kind of a weird time, but you know, I was just wondering...what’s going to happen to us on Monday? I mean, I consider you guys my friends,” he continued, looking around the circle, “I’m not wrong, am I?”

“No,” Andy reassured him. So, he wasn’t imagining it, they felt like friends, too.

“So on Monday, what happens?”

“Are we still friends, you mean? If we’re friends now?” Claire asked.

“Yeah.”

“You want the truth?” Claire couldn’t meet his eye, and Brian knew from the question she posed, he really didn’t want the truth. He knew what was coming, but he continued anyway.

“Yeah, I want the truth.”

“I don’t think so.” Claire responded and he somehow still wasn’t prepared for the blow. It still hit him hard, causing a squeezing pain in his chest and he looked away, clenching his jaw to hold the tears back that were welling in his eyes.

“With all of us,” Allison asked, “or just John?”

“With all of you,” Claire confirmed, looking away from the group.

“That’s a real nice attitude, Claire,” Andrew said gruffly.

“Oh, be honest, Andy,” Claire groaned, “If Brian came up to you in the hall on Monday, what would you do? Picture it, you’re with all the sports.” Brian glanced up at his name and looked at Andy hopefully. In his heart, he knew Claire was probably right, but he wanted to believe that Andrew was really his friend, that they all were. “You know exactly what you’d do. You’d say hi to him and then you’d laugh and cut him all up so your friends wouldn’t think you actually like him.”

“No way.” Andy denied, and that gave Brian a glimmer of hope, one he so desperately wanted to believe.

“What if I came up to you?” Allison asked.

“Same exact thing.”

“You are a bitch!” Bender yelled at Claire.

“Why?! Because I’m telling the truth? That makes me a bitch?”

“No. Cuz you know how shitty that is to do to someone and you don’t have the balls to stand up to your friends and tell them you’re gonna like who you wanna like…” Bender continued berating Claire, but Brian now started to fail to hold back the tears that had been threatening so long to fall. He didn’t make eye contact with anyone in the group and tried to quickly wipe the tear away, hoping no one was paying attention to him; that they couldn’t see how they had impacted him. But he still felt eyes on him, particularly when he wiped the next tear away. He let Claire and Bender’s argument surround him. They called each other out, that neither would associate with him or Allison, that their image was too important to protect to reach out. It was a story that Brian had lived all of his life. ‘How could I think that one day would change everything?’ He thought, pitifully.

“So I assume Allison, Y/N, and I are better people than you? Us weirdos?” Brian interjected when Claire and Bender were silently fuming from their spat. “You, would you do that to me?” He asked Allison.

“I don’t have any friends,” she replied, which made Brian smile a little, even though he rolled his eyes some.

“Okay, but if you did?” He let out a light chuckle, urging her to answer.

“No. I don’t think the kind of friends that I’d have would mind,” Allison replied and Brian nodded, then steeled himself to turn to Y/N and ask the same question. He saw her quickly swipe at her face with her sleeves and realized, suddenly, that she had been crying too. He wasn’t sure why; she had been very quiet through this whole exchange, but maybe that was because it hit home hard for her, too. He felt a painful pang in his chest, both from seeing her tears and from fearing the possibility of her answer. He had spent the day hoping that this was a second chance, that he could get to know her. This was a bold move and would tell him if there was even a chance or not; and he feared the ‘not.' She locked eyes with him and he gulped, petrified to dive in but knowing he had to.

“What about you, Y/N?” He asked, quietly. It felt like the question hung in the air for an agonizing eternity, even though she answered right away. Time worked differently when you were waiting to hear if your world was going to be shattered.

“I would be honored to be your friend,” she replied with a shaking voice. Even though it was strained, it filled him with instant relief. He believed her as he had believed Allison and nodded, biting his lip.

“I just want to tell, each of you, that I wouldn’t do that,” he turned to the group,” I wouldn’t and I will not. Because I think it’s real shitty.”

“Your friends wouldn’t mind because they look up to us.” Claire told him and he couldn’t help but laugh derisively in response. Next to him, he heard Y/N give a sort of squeak but figured that it carried the same disbelief towards Claire as his gesture did.

“You’re so conceited, Claire. You’re so conceited. You’re like, so full of yourself. Why are you like that?” Brian noticed the tears falling again and swiped them away. He didn’t want Claire to think she wounded him, that she had the upper hand. While it stung to have all of his beliefs about how the popular kids perceived him and his friends confirmed, that wasn’t what really was bothering him. It was more that it reminded him that he was invisible, he didn’t matter, which was exactly why he was here today.

“I’m not saying that to be conceited. I hate it. I hate having to go along with everything my friends say.”

“Then why do you do it?”

“I don’t- I don’t know,” Claire sighed, and Brian noticed that she was drying her own tears. He didn’t necessarily like having caused them, but it was nice to know she was still human, that she was feeling the way he was, too. “You don’t understand, You’re not friends with the same kind of people Andy and I are friends with, you know? You just don’t understand the kind of pressure that they can put on you.” That, however, lit a fire within Brian. ‘Pressure from other assholes is so important? Try your own parents, Claire.’

“I don’t understand what?” Brian began, gesturing towards himself and planting his fingers into his chest. It relieved some of the dull ache there. “You think I don’t understand pressure, Claire? Well, fuck you! Fuck you!” ‘Also, fuck ‘bravery’ or saving face,’ Brian broke down into sobs in his elbow before calling out from his hiding spot, “do you know why I’m here today? Do you?!” He sat up to look at the group, the people he considered friends, to share his pain with them. “I’m here...because Mr. Ryan found a gun in my locker.” The words turned thick as they left his mouth and took on a life of their own. His eyes darted quickly around the circle, noting Claire’s dropped jaw, Allison’s tearful eyes that couldn’t meet his own, the way Andrew looked away and Bender seemed to know how he had felt, but also how he was surprised that Brian had the balls to do such a thing, and finally...tears silently and consistently slipping down Y/N’s face.

“What’s the gun for?” Andrew asked, interrupting Brian’s thoughts.

“I tried. You pull the fuckin’--trunk and the light’s supposed to go on and it didn’t go on, you know?” ‘You’ve said too much. They all thought you were a weirdo, now they think you’re a psychotic weirdo.’ “Forget it. Just--forget it,” he said in an attempt to brush it off, as if everything could go back to normal with the bombshell he just dropped on them.

“You brought it up, man,” Andrew insisted.

“I can’t have an F. I can’t have it and I know my parents can’t. Even if I aced the rest of the semester, it would only be a B. I’m ruined.”

“Brian…” Claire started, but there was nothing she could say to make this alright. ‘You’re a failure, Brian, and now you’ve become a freakshow. Look at her pity,’ his brain taunted him and he lashed out to hit the stool on his right, not even thinking about it until Y/N jumped up in her seated position, startled. The last thing he would want to do is hurt or scare her. ‘Shit, great. Another fuck up.’

“Sorry,” he mumbled in her direction before setting his head on his knee and continuing with his story from before, “Just considering my options, you know?”

“No, killing yourself is never an option!” Claire yelled at him, which made him scoff.

“Well I didn’t do it, did I? No, I didn’t think so.” ‘She really just doesn’t get it, does she? She still can’t picture why I’d want to--’

“It was a handgun?” Allison asked

“A flare gun. It blew up in my locker.” Brian sighed, but then he heard Andrew start to laugh. “It’s not funny.” Brian asserted. Andrew tried to clear his throat to stop laughing, but he couldn’t and Brian bit his lip and smiled in realization, “Yeah, it is.” The laughter was contagious...and better than crying. “Fucking elephant was destroyed.”

“You know what I did to get in here?” Allison asked the group, and Brian almost feared her answer. “Nothing. I didn’t have anything better to do.” That completely brightened the mood and Brian fell over laughing. It seemed like he was forgiven and that no one here was judging him for the failed lamp or the gun nor would they tell anybody about it. They...they had accepted him in the end after all.

*~~~~*

“...we trust you.” Claire was trying to talk him into writing one essay to cover all of them, and she was using flattery. Lucky for her, it worked. He looked down the row to seek approval from the others and they all nodded. But he liked knowing that they thought he was the smartest and the most capable, that they trusted his words would win over Vernon in a way that they wouldn’t be punished for not doing their own essays. It was a big task and a lot to entrust to him, so he took pride in fulfilling it. Claire took the other girls with her somewhere and it was just Andrew and him sitting silently in the library, so he decided to get to work. Andrew was just lurking about, playing with his jewelry, but he wasn’t a distraction. However, Allison passing by looking completely different was. Brian looked up, shocked that this was the same person he had spent all day with. Her hair was away from her face and he could actually see her brown eyes and she was wearing...white, the opposite of all of the layers of black before. He caught her glare at him staring at her so he tried to give her a reassuring smile, that it was a good look for her. She said, “thank you,” and moved on toward Andrew. Brian turned back to his essay and finished the last couple of lines, not noticing Y/N approaching behind him. If he had, he probably wouldn’t have kissed the essay or given himself a ‘good job’ punch in the arm.

He sat up in startled revelation when she spoke, “That good, huh?” He realized she had just seen everything. He had never felt more like a dork in his life and a blush crept up into his cheeks.

“Uh...yeah, I-I guess. I mean, do you want to read it?” He asked as she started to pull back the chair next to him to sit down.

“If you want me to, but I trust you.” She took her seat and placed her arm gently on his forearm. ‘Holy shit. She is touching me! She’s looking at me. What do I even say? Do I acknowledge the touch or do I just--’ “I’m impressed that you came up with something so quickly though.” Brian felt pride bubble up within him, knowing that she noticed...no, she was impressed by him. He cocked his head and looked at her sideways, trying to figure her out. She quickly looked away and pulled her hand back, now fiddling with her sleeves. ‘Is she...nervous?’ He thought, trying to decode her reaction. “So, um…you said earlier that you were in the Math Club? Um, I mean, if you have the time, do you think you could tutor me? I’m like totally lost in Clarkson’s class.”

He blinked. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t exactly that. Not that he would say no to spending more time with her. He had wanted that second chance, after all. “Yeah, no, I could do that,” he told her and watched as she twisted away and looked behind her, grabbing paper off of Allison’s desk. She leaned back forward and reached for his pen in front of him. She was actually close enough now that he could smell her shampoo and his body threatened to turn into jello on the spot.

“Here...is...my...phone number.” She said as she wrote it out on the paper and handed it to him. “Call me so we can set something up?” She looked up at him and knocked the breath right out of his lungs.

“You--You want me to call you?” He asked with raised eyebrows, wholly surprised by the request. He’d not only not kissed a girl, but one had never given him her phone number before.

“Yeah.” She smiled at him and his heartbeat picked up even faster, if that was possible. She cleared her throat and nodded towards Andrew and Allison. “So, those two, huh? Unexpected, right?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He was suddenly hurtled back to Earth, to reality. “Definitely. Wait, where’s Claire?”

“She...she said she was going to go ‘check on’ Bender.”

“Wow. So them, too.” ‘Everyone is coupling up maybe we should--’ he interrupted his own thought and shot it down. All he could say was, “That’s really...weird.”

*~~~~*

After they were finally released and Brian left his essay on the desk for Vernon to collect, and hopefully reflect upon, they all walked out together. It made sense as they all had to go to the main entrance, but there was a feeling of solidarity within it that made Brian think that the members of what he dubbed The Breakfast Club would continue their friendship come Monday.

Allison and Andrew branched off together, as did Claire and John. Brian looked quickly at Y/N as she walked down the steps with him. His dad was there to pick him up, which he was thankful for. His mom would definitely notice him walking with a girl and have a million questions and a lengthy lecture lined up, but his dad would barely notice, much less think anything of it. He reached for the door handle as Y/N was about to depart, but then she called his name, “Hey Brian,” he looked up, not sure what else she could possibly have to say, especially since they had been silent while the couples had veered off. “See you Monday.” She reminded him and gave him a small smile. He gave a grin in return.

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you on Monday.” He replied, beginning to get into the car, her phone number burning a hole in his pocket. For the first time in a long time, he was actually looking forward to another week school.

Tags:

@criminalwipes

[words-writ-in-starlight]

where's the essay op

Okay so bayonets.  I don't know why I ever pretend that I want to talk about anything but military history and battlefield medicine.  I checked all my sources in the waiting room of a doctor's office so you're just going to have to trust me because they are Gone.  I’m pretty sure this can all be found on a few Wiki dives, though.

First of all, to recap, let me clarify a common misconception.  The triangular bayonet was NOT outlawed in the 1949 Geneva Convention, nor any future revisions—as it was originally a musket weapon, it was fading out of use by World War II and the subsequent Convention.  However, you'll notice that I opted to use to word "violates" rather than "were banned by," which is a fine semantical hair to split and, I suppose, debatable.  Most bayonets were not explicitly banned in the GC, in that there is not an article in the GC saying you can't use them.  However there IS an article in the GC, adopted from the earlier 1899 Hague Regulations, stating that it is prohibited to "employ weapons...of a nature to cause superfluous injury or unnecessary suffering" (originally part of Article 23 of the HR, now Article 35 of the GC, expanded in 1977).  Personally, as someone who knows a lot about how a lot of weapons impact the human body, I think that is a more expansive statement than most people would expect, and should be treated accordingly.  Regrettably I do not work for the UN.

Point is, triangular blades specifically are known to cause wounds that are difficult to heal, highly prone to infection, and extremely likely to never fully recover, while also having a relatively low mortality rate.  This is because the axes of a triangular wound, which is shaped sort of like a Y, make it very hard to stitch closed, and very easy for any "twisting" of the blade to create a large hole with ragged edges that's functionally impossible to stitch closed.  As an added bonus, because of the way scar tissue forms, it's possible for one "line" of a triangular wound to pull open other parts of the puncture while the scar tissue forms and pulls on the skin.  Even by standards in the 1700s, triangular bayonet wounds were phenomenally likely to infect and consistently difficult to repair, and modern medicine has made only limited improvements on that situation.  As such, cases have been made that certain types of bayonet/triangular blades in general are therefore in violation of this article, despite not being explicitly banned.

(Side note: yes, the American military violates the GC on the regular.  The American police violate the GC.  I am excruciatingly aware.  The GC is interesting reading generally, but especially if you're an American and you ever feel like being appalled for a few hours.)

Anyway, with that covered again, let's actually talk about the development of triangular bayonets, which might've been out of use by the time of the GC but DEFINITELY violated that article in a big way for a good two centuries prior and are also a fascinating insight into the fact that humanity, as a whole, is really determined to do things in the dumbest way possible.

The first thing you have to understand about bayonets is that they were originally invented as a way to integrate pikes with guns, not knives or even swords.  When arquebuses and muskets were first invented, you were lucky to get a rate of fire around one round per minute, and you still had to protect your army while they were reloading their clunky black powder guns.  Therefore, most infantries between like...the invention of the gun and the late 1600s were comprised of soldiers equipped with muskets, and also soldiers equipped with pikes (a type of spear).  The idea of a bayonet was "what if we put a pike and a musket TOGETHER and then we could give everyone THAT and have way more guns in our army because we don't need pikemen anymore." Which makes sense when you think about it.

What makes less sense is that the initial effort at bayonets was something called a plug bayonet.  You'll never fucking guess what these geniuses (first record is Chinese infantry around-abouts 1600, popular use of plug bayonets recorded in Europe around the 1630s) figured out for their first try at a bayonet.  Here's a hint!  There's not a lot of places on a gun where you can "plug in" a sword. 

Obviously plug bayonets did not exactly catch on as a fantastic solution, because these guns were either a gun OR a short spear and neither was especially good at their jobs.  A bunch of battles hinged on this problem. Which brings us to the end of the 1600s, when English forces in Scotland got absolutely obliterated by a bunch of Highlanders in 1689 because the English were so busy trying to fix their bayonets that the Highlanders literally just charged them, fired one volley, and cut them down with swords and axes. The English took that one very personally (which, you know what, fair, it was a humiliating defeat, especially since the Highlanders had been using that tactic very successfully for a while) and started developing better bayonets.

This is where we get to socket bayonets, AKA what you would probably recognize as a bayonet from a period TV series or a museum.  Socket bayonets have a metal sleeve that gets attached around the barrel of a gun (in this case a musket), so that you can still theoretically use the damn gun while it's attached.  There were problems with the development of socket bayonets (notably, it took a while to figure out how to keep them from falling off the gun during battle), but overall they worked much better and armies started getting rid of pikemen. This was also when bayonets were shortened to a little over a foot, which isn't really important but made them much easier to maneuver.  Socket bayonets were the European order of the day by the early 1700s, and mostly came in three flavors: single edge (like a knife), double edge (like a sword), and spike (like a...spike).  There were pros and cons to all of these (single edge wasn't great for stabbing, spike was ONLY good for stabbing, and double edge was kind of okay at stabbing and kind of okay at slashing), but most importantly, both single and double edged bayonets were fragile.  The heads of polearms were shaped on patterns other than "sword on a stick" for a reason, and it's because "sword on a stick" is not very sturdy.

Triangular bayonets were the solution to this problem.  Triangular bayonets are basically a single piece of metal creased long-ways, with both edges sharpened and the top fluted to form a third edge at the crease.  This makes a much more resilient weapon than a flat blade, because a twisting motion doesn’t risk snapping the blade in the middle.  It also means that now you have three edges, and human nature is to figure “more knife better.”

And don’t get me wrong, as a weapon of war, the triangular bayonet was a great one.  It was introduced in the 1710s and then got used regularly to maim and terrify through the start of the 1900s.  In fact, the triangular bayonet worked so well that it only began to get phased out of use when the style of war itself started to change dramatically during the World Wars.  When warfare was focused on pitched battle (your old school “two armies enter, one army leaves” kind of warfare), the emphasis of a bayonet was on extending the reach of a gun.  A bayonet lets a soldier have a weapon for closer range combat, where a gun—especially a long gun like a musket—is not as effective.  So when you had two armies on the field and a bayonet was first and foremost a way to keep the enemy at least gun-length away, longer bayonets were better.  

But World War I was the advent of trench warfare, which was a terrible idea and also meant that a long weapon, like a gun with an extra foot and a half of sword on top, was much, MUCH harder to work with.  Either fighting took place in no man’s land, where you probably weren’t going to get close enough to use a bayonet anyway, or in a trench, where a weapon as long as you were tall was just impossible to work with.  

(If you know anything about WWI, you’re probably asking me about bayonet charges right now, specifically the concept of “going over the top.”  Contrary to every media representation of WWI ever, “going over the top” of a trench faded out of use pretty quickly.  It was a type of bayonet charge where the soldiers in ONE trench fixed their bayonets and tried to charge no man’s land in an effort to reach the OTHER trench, but it was basically never effective because no man’s land was often heavily trapped and strafed with gunfire and mortar shells.  Also, it was the kind of battle tactic that military history books talk about with phrases like “total annihilation of whole attacking battalions,” so that’s the kind of mortality rate we’re talking about here.  The Battle of the Somme featured a good number of bayonet charges by the British, for context, so people learned and started using other tactics.)

So, since bayonets were only useful in trenches, suddenly everyone was scrambling to shorten bayonets and guns so that their soldiers could get ANYTHING DONE.  And THEN soldiers started admitting that they were literally taking their bayonets off their guns and using them as knives instead, because for trench fighting that was way more useful, and so everyone just decided fuck it, let’s just make bayonet-knives, which is why WWI weapons with bayonets usually look, very literally, like someone duct taped a short knife to the front of a gun.  This was the start of the decline of the triangular bayonet, a full two hundred years after it hit the battlefield, which is a frankly spectacular run for any weapon since the invention of the gun.  Triangular bayonets held on, here and there, through part of WWII, but they were almost entirely gone by the time of the Geneva Convention being ratified in 1949.  However, spike or knife bayonets are still issued to many armies as a weapon of last resort to this day, although they aren’t often used in actual attacks.  Now we have bigger, worse weapons for actual attacks.

 TL;DR, the development of bayonets went like this:

“What if we put a pike ON a gun?  …oh wait, you still want to use the gun?  Sucks to be you, I guess.”

“What if we put a sword on the gun instead?  Then we could put it somewhere where we can still use the gun!  Good luck keeping it on there, though.”

“What if we actually made something designed to get put on a gun and stab people effectively?  Like, what if we designed something with that purpose in mind?  Perhaps?” SMASH CUT TWO CENTURIES

“Well if you’re just gonna take your bayonet off and stab someone with it anyway, can we just go back to giving you knives, then?”

And now you’re caught up on all the dubiously successful ways we’ve tried to mutilate people with a knife-gun.

[wreckofawriter]

Bubblegum

pairing: remus lupin x reader

word count: 3k

warnings: language, none fluffy

summary: you know you annoy remus but that doesn't stop you from trying to get close to him

a/n: i actually like this fic more than I thought I would... anyway I'm actually motivated again so posts should be more frequent. I plan on writing the next part for pulled apart next

    Remus has always been very good at ignoring distractions. Considering who his best friends were that was really no surprise to anyone around him. He had ignored parties and screams and fights and pretty much everything else you can imagine. He could probably read through a tornado if one happened to strike the castle. But we all have that one thing. 

    The classroom was quiet. The scratch of quills on parchment and the occasional shuffle of feet filling Remus’s ears as he did everything in his power to focus on the test in front of him. Potions was a subject he excelled in, yet he had barely finished the first three questions and now sat practically fuming in his chair, his mind clouded with irritation. 

    A pop once again resonated through the room and no one else blinked, the quills continued their march. Remus gripped his own feather so tight he thought it might break in two. A few moments later  the sound greeted his ears again and he whipped around. His eyes fell on you, your hair bouncing lightly as you tapped your foot to some inaudible rhythm. Soft pink bubble gum lined your lips, the corpse of a bubble being tugged back into your mouth for rebirth. 

    “Would you cut it out?” Remus hissed drawing more than one pair of eyes. 

    You tilted your head in confusion, reminding the boy slightly of a puppy. You glanced behind yourself quickly and then pointed a finger at yourself in a silent question. 

    “Yes you.” Remus scorned, “Stop popping your bloody gum.” 

    Maybe it was because of how rude he had been or maybe it was the cute red tinge of anger on his cheeks, either effect led you to the same action. You gathered the treat in your mouth inflating one of the bigger bubbles you had made that day, popping it between your teeth.  The noise was loud like the snap of a whip. You smiled softly at the boy's stiff reaction, “No.” You hummed turning back to your work. 

    Remus was pretty sure you had verbally slapped him across the face. 

    The library was crowded with people, almost every chair was taken, faces shoved into books and fingers stained with ink.

The quiet atmosphere was broken by James’s loud groan, “Godric, that test Slughorn gave us was dreadful.” he complained, his head hitting the table in front of him. A chorus of hushing which he paid no mind to followed. 

“Tell me about it.” Remus mumbled his mood still sour from the period before. 

Sirius snapped to attention, “Since when do you have trouble in potions?” 

Remus sighed, rolling his eyes at his friend's amusement, “It wasn’t the test you idiot.” 

James turned his head, his cheek now squished against the wooden surface, eyebrows scrunched.

“There was this girl.” 

“A girl!?” Both boys shouted in unison, James’s head popping up from the table. They both were shushed aggressively. 

Remus scoffed, “Not like that-”

“Was she just so hot you couldn’t focus?” Sirius mused, the smirk on his lips mildly irritating.

“Did she have the top few buttons of her blouse undone? I damn near fainted last time Lily did that.” James chimed in.

Remus felt his cheeks go hot, “What? No-”

“So who's the lucky lady Moony?” 

“Yeah I can’t believe you didn't tell us.” James pouted. 

    “I don’t fancy her, you idiots!” Remus snapped, earning multiple glares.

    James and Sirius’s smiles dropped, disappointment finding their faces as all the excitement they had just been tempted with washed away.

    “I knew it was too good to be true.” Sirius mumbled halfeartly. 

    “So what was it then?” James asked, “If you don’t fancy this girl what’s the issue?”

    Remus huffed, “She was being bloody annoying that's the issue. She wouldn’t stop popping her gum, it is one of the most infuriating things I've ever experienced.”

    Sirius quirked a brow, “That's it?”

    “James was there.” Remus continued, “He gets it, it was absolutely dreadful.”

    James shrugged, “I don’t remember hearing any popping.” 

    Remus gauffed, “Seriously? It was so loud.” 

    “I probably just tuned it out,” He hummed, “Why didn't you just ask her to stop?”

    “That's the problem.” Remus groaned, “I did and she was totally rude and popped it right in my face.” 

    “Sounds kinda bitchy.” Sirius mumbled, “Any chance you know who she is?” 

    Remus racked his brain, “I think her name is y/l/n something, I'm not sure.”

    Sirius paused, “Y/n y/l/n?”

    “That sounds right.” 

    Sirius whistled, “She is wicked hot.”

    Remus scrunched his face in mild disgust, “Is that all you have to say on the matter?” 

    Sirius nodded returning to Transfiguration book,

    Remus sighed, “You guys are no help at all.”

If you had heard the conversation that had just taken place you would have been sorely disappointed. In fact you probably would have stormed up to your dorm and pouted fiercely. 

Remus Lupin was someone you knew well. Probably too well considering he had never even looked your way until the period before. It's not like you were a stalker or anything, he was just… really cute.

He had caught your attention in 4th year and never seemed to let go as he slowly reeled you in with hazel eyes and soft smiles. 

You would count his freckles in charms and imagine running your hands through his hair in potions, he never seemed to notice the pair of eyes boring into his curls. You were pretty positive that your crush was hopeless. I mean this was Remus Lupin you were talking about, sure he wasn’t as sought after as Black but he definitely had his fair share of admirers.

Your friends, the few you trusted with important information that is, were always pushing you to take some sort of action on your crush. You ignored them for the most part claiming it was useless and he would probably end up with someone else anyway. Yet year after year he was still single. It was a bit shocking in fact. Almost as shocking as the words you had spoken to him earlier that day.

You buried your head in your hands for the third time that minute, embarrassment and regret were eating you alive. What the hell is wrong with me? You thought. 

Adrianna, who was one of your closest friends and the one seated next to you for the horrific event was snickering behind her hand attempting to turn it into a cough as you glared at her. 

“I mean at least you talked to him.” She chidded and you threw your book at her. It was her turn to pout.

You groaned, your head hitting the table infront of you, “I’m a fucking idiot.” 

Adrianna shrugged, “Well yes.” 

“Why did I say no? Why couldn’t I just say yes and apologize like a normal person?” You complained.

She shrugged again, “Maybe it’s just in your blood to be a dick?” This time she caught a quill on her forehead. “Sorry, sorry,” a pause, “You know you could use this to your advantage,”

You raised an eyebrow, “How the hell would I manage that?”

“You could apologize, you know like a normal person.” she giggled.

You cringed at the thought, “Why would I do that?” 

Adrianna rolled her eyes, “Because you were an asshole. And most people apologize after being an asshole.”

You scrunched your nose, “Do you have any idea how awkward that would be?” 

“You’re helpless.” She mumbled returning to her work. 

You pouted, “Well you're not very helpful.” your mind began to turn as she continued her essay, one you had already finished the night before. Then suddenly an idea struck. 

You marched up to Remus with confidence you didn’t actually have. Your anxieties buried beneath a blanket of boldness. Your hands shook, stuffed deep in your pockets. 

“Yes?” He repeated reminding you that you had indeed called his name. 

You glanced around at his friends, their eyes locked on you with amused smiles. You put on an uncaring mask and rolled your eyes at Potter whose smile only grew, “Could we talk away from your goons?”

Remus grinned a bit as Sirius gave an over-exaggerated gasp, “Yeah sure.” 

You nodded quickly turning and starting towards the staircase. You didn’t catch Remus raising his eyebrows back at his friends and he didn’t see you release a shaky breath.  

Once you both stood in the narrow staircase leading to the deviations room you turned back to Remus who stood two stairs below you, the height advantage made you feel powerful. 

He didn’t seem particularly bothered by it, “You here to apologize?”

Your eyes widened, he seemed snarkier than he had been in potions, almost like he was challenging you, “I was, but now I don’t believe I will.” you clipped back.

Remus rolled his eyes, “Can I leave then?” 

Panic struck you, this was not going well, “Actually I need a favor.” 

Remus was surprised, that was definitely not what he had expected.

You huffed, praying to whatever god was up there that this would work. “Can you tutor me in potions? I’m actually not all that good at it and I know for a fact you are.” One of those statements was a blatant lie. Potions had been one of your better grades for a while now but he didn’t need to know that. 

“Why should I help you?” Remus asked, taking a step towards you, the height advantage lessening. 

You weren’t really sure how to answer that, “I suppose you shouldn’t.” You sighed and Remus smirked, “But you will.”

He raised his brows, “And why's that?”

You popped your gum enjoying his flinch, “Because you are just so sweet.” you said it with a slight coo like you were talking to a young child.

Remus didn’t respond as you brushed past him.

“Meet me at the library tomorrow after lunch and don’t be late.” You called over your shoulder.

Remus stood in the stairwell staring where you had just stood. He let out a heavy sigh , his heart beating louder than it should have been. 

Part of you thought he wouldn’t even show and that instead you would sit in the library like a fool as Remus laughed about you with his friends. So when you entered the library and found the boy already seated at a table, textbooks and notes placed neatly around him you were surprised. You fought a wide smile skipping beside him and reaching for the book in his hands. Before you could snatch it away Remus snapped it shut and moved it aside. 

“Take a seat y/n”  He spoke, smirking at you, clearly happy about his quick reflexes. 

You rolled your eyes sitting beside him and glancing at the papers in front of you. They were notes, neatly taken, no doodles in the margins. 

Remus leaned over your shoulder, “I think we should start with the basics and see how much you already know.”

It was only then that you realised you were going to have to pretend to be terrible at potions. You swallowed thickly, “Sounds good.”

You surprised yourself with how easily you lied. You slipped up only twice, brushing both off as lucky guesses and contuinuting with your stupid little curade. 

Remus ate it up, showing you simple questions and walking you through them as one did a child. It would have bothered you if he wasn’t leaning over your shoulder with his breath soft on your neck. He smelt like chocolate and fresh parchment, his curly hair so close you could reach out and run your fingers through it if you wanted to. 

You walked back to your common room in a slight haze, your stomach full of wings.

Remus peered after you curiously. Your actions confused him, he could’ve sworn you had already known the practice problems he gave you. Yet you had struggled, almost comically. He supposed you were just really good at pretending to be smart. 

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to pretend to be stupid?” You groaned.

Adrianna shook her head too focused on the note sheet in front of her to really care about what you were saying. 

Your rambles continued regardless, “Do you think I’m going to have to fail my next test so I can keep Remus as a tutor?”

She sighed fed up as she tried to study over your speaking, “You know you could just ask him out like if you weren’t such a pussy.” 

You glared at her lacking real malice, “I’m not a pussy, I’m just creative.”

“Pussy.” Adrianna coughed quietly and you rolled your eyes, she was only a little bit right. 

As your study sessions continued Remus found himself growing strangely fond of you. The banter you offered was entertaining, despite the fact you took every chance to annoy him. Your sarcastic comments made his lips twitch into a grin. Your response to his own remarks; a scrunch of your nose, making him chuckle. You still seemed a bit off and for the first week, Remus wasn’t sure what it was. It was clear that you were hiding something, faking something but he just couldn't place it. 

A pattern began to settle in front of him quickly. Your slip ups became a bit repetitive. And by slip ups he really meant your success. You were good at potions. In fact probably better than he was. Remus wasn’t sure why you were pretending to be terrible at a class you clearly were doing well in, but he was even more confused on why he didn’t call you out on it. 

For some reason he was dead set on keeping you at those study sessions. In fact he used a nearing test as an excuse to meet you daily. He debated his actions in his own mind most nights, why did he keep wasting his time to teach you things you already knew he wondered. He always came up empty, even more lost than he had been before. 

You had thought Remus to be smarter than he was. The fact that he hadn't picked up on your seemingly obvious act was astounding. You supposed it only helped you if he fell for it hook line and sinker, right? You started meeting him everyday in the library, he was very adamant about you passing the upcoming test and you weren’t going to complain, it gave you more time to count the freckles that dusted his nose anyway.  

You hummed quietly to yourself, fiddling with your quill. It was the night before the test and Remus had been insistent on you studying late into the night. So now you sat in the Gryffindor common room under the hazy light of candles with notes you had memorized ages ago. 

The crack of the fire was a pleasant background noise to your tune as your eyes locked onto Remus whose hair had fallen in front of his eyes yet again. You smiled softly watching him scribble final notes onto his Transfiguration assignment. Your gum was slowly losing its flavor on your tongue. 

Feeling your gaze he looked up, “You want me to quiz you on them?” He asked, gesturing to the notes under your arm. 

“Sure.” You reposed picking up the paper and passing it off to him. 

Remus watched you carefully, answers came easily most of the time but every once and  while you would struggle, himming and hawing as you pretended you didn’t know how to respond. He played along until you finished the note sheet.

You were confused when he put it down, “Aren't we going to go over the ones I got wrong?” 

Remus sighed, “Why would I do that when you already know them?”

You furrowed your brow, “I got them wrong.”

“You know them though don’t you?” He smirked, “You know all the stuff that I’ve been teaching you.”

You laughed but there was no humor to it, “I don’t know what you mean.”

He only smiled more, “Yes you do.” 

You just sat there, your mind was spinning, you hadn’t really planned for the end of it all. You had no clue how you were going to explain this. 

“I’m curious.” Remus said, “Why go through all this trouble?” 

You just started at him opening your mouth to answer only to close it again. 

“Come on y/n don’t leave me hanging.” He grinned and you felt like you were going to throw up. 

“How long have you known?” You asked quietly.

Remus shrugged, “About a week.” 

You hesitated, “Wait, why didn't you say anything sooner?”

He shrugged again, “No reason.” 

It was your turn to smile “No really Remus, why waste your time with me?” You questioned. 

He sighed, “It wasn’t really a waste of time.”

“It wasn’t?” 

Remus felt weirdly trapped, “You still haven't answered my question.” 

“Fine you really want to know?” You said chewing your gum anxiously. 

He nodded.

“I wanted to hang out with you, and I wasn't really sure how to ask.” You huffed picking at your nails. 

There was a beat of quiet, the fire popped behind you.

“Now you tell me why you didn’t say anything earlier.” You said trying to divert from your embarrassing confession. 

Remus pondered his answer for a moment, “Because I like you.” 

Your eyes widened, “I thought you found me annoying.” you laughed lightly.

“Oh no I do.” He grinned leaning closer to you as you scrunched your nose in annoyment. “You know you could have just asked me out instead of pretending not to know anything about potions.”

You ignored the heat in your cheeks as Remus leaned just inches from you, “Where’s the fun in that?”

He chuckled, “I supposed there isn't any.” his breath was warm on your skin and your eyes slipped shut as he closed the distance between you. 

Remus’s lips were smooth and soft against your own, his hand cupping your cheek lightly. You ran your fingers through his hair as he tilted your chin back, deepening the kiss. 

He hummed lightly, you tasted like bubblegum.

taglist:

@evyiione @accio-rogers @roslea @k3nz-doodl3 @theseuscmander @sleepingalaska @chloe-geoghegan1 @obsessedwithrandomthings @coldlilheart @suseptiable-but-siriusexual @inglorious-imagines @the-natureofme @trickylittlewitch @layaa-layaaa

Masterlist

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Pendent.

Written for a very lovely, very patient anonymous commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!Bokuto/Reader (Haikyuu!!).

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: F. Reader, Toxic Relationships, Possessive/Protective Mindsets, Co-Dependency, Non-Consensual Touching, Threats of Violence, Slight Victim Blaming.

[Part One] / [Part Three]

Unfortunately, Bokuto wasn’t very good at his keeping promises.

He tried to, for your sake. He wanted to be a good boyfriend, but he wasn’t perfect, he had his flaws. He was sure you had yours, too, even if they were difficult to find from his perspective – straddling the seat in front of yours, his head on your desk, your fingers idly combing through his hair as you worked on something, an essay or a worksheet or another boring, complicated assignment he didn’t have a chance of helping you with, despite being a year ahead of you. If it was anyone else, he might’ve whined, pouted, gotten distracted and forgot why he bothered to visit you in the first place, but he restrained himself to toying with your sleeve, to listening to the soft, mumbled curses you let out whenever you stumbled onto something you didn’t understand. He liked watching you work. He liked watching you, in general. He liked you.

He was sure he’d like you even more, if you let him take you somewhere a little more private.

Bokuto opened his mouth, ready to buy for your attention, but he was interrupted by a group of boys jeering near the ground of the classroom, girls whispering in the furthest corner, your classmates, your peers, your friends that were forced to a distance by your gentle excuses and Bokuto’s poor reputation, outside of the sport’s sector. He’d promised he wouldn’t be jealous, swore up and down he wouldn’t act like some brooding, possessive jerk, but he could still be annoyed, he was still your boyfriend. He wasn’t jealous, he was just irritated. He wasn’t pestering you because he wanted to get you alone, no, he just wanted to let you focus. He just didn’t want anyone else distracting you, not while he was there.

“(Y/n),” He drawled, earning a hum in response. It was what he expected, your dedication was one of the many things he loved about you, but part of him hated how focused you could be. How hard it was to get your attention, despite your constant reassurance. “Can’t you do this in the courtyard? I’m dyin’, over here.”

“I just need a few more minutes.” That was what you’d said five minutes ago, and five minutes before that, and every five minutes since the first time he thought to ask. “If you’re bored, you could always…. I don’t know, try going to your own class?”

The jab was playful, but Bokuto still sulked, sitting up just enough to lean into your hand, letting you cup his cheek as finally, finally, your eyes shifted from the paper in front of you to him, an exasperated smile already tugging at the corners of your lips. “But then I wouldn’t be with you.” This time, he let himself be shameless about it, pressing a fleeting kiss into the heel of your palm as you flushed, averting your eyes with an unimpressed scoff. “This is your free hour, you can do anything you want! C’mon, there’s this really nice spot by the—”

This time, he was cut off entirely, but not by background noise or distant laughter or something as easily dismissed. No, it was worse than that, more unignorable – your name, shouted across the room from a boy with messy black hair, his smile a little too eager and his voice a little too grating as he called for you again, intent on getting your attention, one way or another. You didn’t seem to mind, popular enough to be used to this kind of thing, but Bokuto’s glare was reflexive, ingrained, as instinctual as he way he barred his teeth as he turned towards—

You caught him by the arm before he could stand up, before he could do anything messy and drastic, your smile never waver. That was why you were the better half. between the two of you. You were just too much of an angel to ever stand back and let someone get what they deserve. “He’s just a friend,” You explained, the clarification unnecessary, but still appreciated. “It’s not every day my boyfriend takes time out of his busy schedule to babysit me. He’s probably just trying to get under my skin.”

It was a conflicting feeling. His heart skipped a beat at the implication, at that soft, casual reminder that you were his and he was yours, but he still didn’t like the idea of someone teasing you, the idea of someone thinking they were good enough to get away with it. He scowled, but you didn’t give him the chance to complain, your fingers already digging into his bicep, urging him to listen. “Please?” You tried, your tone caught somewhere between hopeful and questioning. A queit, optimistic urging you already knew Bokuto couldn’t resist “I’ll make it up to you, but please, let it go.”

He wanted to keep his promise. He really, really wanted to be a good boyfriend.

If this meant he could be a little better, he was willing to give it a shot.

“I’ll try.”

~

He was telling the truth. He was going to try. He wanted to try.

He was just having a little trouble. It was hard to teach an old dog new tricks, even if Bokuto was desperate to learn. He just needed a little help, and luckily, Bokuto knew just who to go to when he needed help.

“It’s not like I’m tryin’ to hurt her feelings.” It was already late, the sun low in the sky and practice long-since over, but Bokuto’s pace was unhurried as he walked at Akaashi’s side, unrushed, too preoccupied with his own thoughts to care about getting home quickly. Unfortunately, Akaashi was too used to him to complain, only nodding along as Bokuto went on. “I just don’t want anyone else to hurt her feelings, either. If I back off, I gotta take that risk.”

Akaashi was quiet, for a moment, his eyes on the sidewalk. He’d known you longer than Bokuto, technically, been there for you longer than your boyfriend had, and Bokuto would’ve been lying if he said he didn’t feel a pang of resentment because of that. But, Akaashi wasn’t a threat, Akaashi wouldn’t hurt you. If Bokuto couldn’t put a little faith in him, he couldn’t put faith in anyone, and Bokuto wasn’t ready to admit that to himself, just yet. “(Y/n)’s smart,” He started, hesitantly. “If you give her room to breathe, she’ll take care of herself. She likes doing these kinds of things on her own.”

Bokuto knew that. You were shy, despite everything, too much of a sweetheart to ever burden anyone else. Somehow, the reminder did little to ease his nerves. “I can’t do that.” It just wasn’t an option. Akaashi might’ve known you longer, but Bokuto knew you better. It just wouldn’t be the same if he let something come between the two of you. It wouldn’t be good for your relationship, it wouldn’t be good for you. It wouldn’t be good for Bokuto, either, but this wasn’t about him. Or, he’d really like to convince himself it wasn’t, at least. “I mean, it took her months just to talk to me, and you should’ve seen had badly she was tremblin' when she confessed. She’s shy, like that. Poor thing couldn’t make it on her own, not without people like us.”

He glanced toward Akaashi, serving for a small smile, a confident nod, a sign of affirmation, but Akaashi wasn’t next to him, anymore. Glancing over his shoulder, Bokuto found Akaashi behind him, his neutral expression suddenly scrunched, concerned, worried. That was enough to make Bokuto stop, too, his heart tightening in his chest as he turned. “She… She’s just shy, right?” His voice came out uneven, uneasy. He trusted you, obviously. He knew you. He was just willing to admit Akaashi knew you differently. He might’ve known… different parts, things you were too timid to ever show your boyfriend. “I mean, I get that she’s popular, but… She’s gotta be shy, man. That’s why she needs me.”

It took Akaashi a second to respond – a long, painful, agonizing second. It was worse than any injury he’d ever gotten, any sprain or bruise or dislocation. It was pure, unadulterated agony, it was torture, and…

And, it was nothing compared to the way his heart broke, when Akaashi finally opened his mouth.

“There’s something you should know.”

~

Bokuto was trying. Bokuto was trying so, so, so hard.

He just didn’t know you were going to make it this difficult for him to improve.

Your parents weren’t home. They never seemed to be, not when you asked Bokuto to come over, and not when he showed up on your doorstep, less than an hour after his talk with Akaashi, his face pale and his hands shaking at his sides. Most days, it was a lucky coincidence, just another factor that proved you needed somebody like him to come along and support you, take care of you, love you. Tonight, though, it seemed like a godsend.

He didn’t bother knocking, just scrambling for the spare key you kept under the mat. In the back of his mind, he made a note to badger you about finding a better hiding spot, but that wasn’t important. If anything, your careless behavior served as an advantage, a reinforcement, another reason he was right and Akaashi wasn’t. You needed him. Both of you needed each other.

Your room was on the second floor. If you’d heard Bokuto let himself in, you didn’t bother coming to investigate, letting him drag himself up your staircase and down the hall without any unwanted attention, even if he did find himself lingering in your open doorway when he finally reached it, abruptly unable to make a sound as he took you in. You were beautiful, obviously, you always were, your uniform swapped out for an oversized hoodie, your legs folded and a laptop open on your bed, but he only got a minute to admire you before his shoulder knocked against the doorframe, drawing your attention. It was painful, having to watch you flinch back, your eyes going wide and your lips parting, but you didn’t sound afraid as you leaned towards him, moving to the edge of your bed. “Baby?” You started, startled, but not scared. Never scared. Not of your boyfriend, not of Bokuto. “I didn’t know you were coming over. Everything alright?”

He didn’t answer. His voice would’ve cracked if he tried, and it was easier to force himself to trudge forward, to trip over his own feet as he approached you, barely making it to the edge of the bed before collapsing into your arms, letting you catch him with an airy gasp. He didn’t bother trying to resist the urge to wrap his arms around your waist, to bury his face in the crook of your neck, to bring you closer and keep you closer, despite the feelings of your hands on his shoulders, feebly trying to nudge him away as your heart raced, the sound just a little too loud, just a little too telling. He tried to ignore it. He wanted to ignore it. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he had to deal with that, too, on top of everything else.

“C’mon, big guy,” You tried, letting out a small, nervous laugh. “It won’t get better if you don’t talk about it. What’s wrong?”

Looking back, he should’ve been more gentle about it. He should’ve thought of a better way to ask. At the moment, though, it was all he could do to open his mouth and let the words fall out. “Do you love me?”

There was a pause, a hesitation. Suddenly, the sympathy in your voice felt false, too unfaltering to really be believable. “What’re you talking about, Kotaro?”

“Akaashi told me.” You shrunk underneath him, curling into yourself, but Bokuto didn’t let you go, he couldn’t let you go. There was still a chance that Akaashi could’ve been lying, that Bokuto was going to lose his best friend rather than his girlfriend. He’d still be distraught, obviously, but it wouldn’t destroy him, not like this would. Not like this was going to, by the time he was done. “But, he didn’t tell me everything, right? Like, I know my team put you up to it, asking me out and all, but that can’t be the only reason you’re still with me. I’m not in a rut anymore, right? If you didn’t really love me, you wouldn’t still be—” He cut himself off, inhaling sharply. “You love me, you have to love me. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be doing this. You gotta love me, at least a little.”

“I don’t want to say this, Bokuto.” His surname. Something twisted in his chest, and for a second, he wondered if it’d be less painful to rip out his own heart and do the work for you. “You’re a really nice guy. You shouldn’t have to hear this from me, if you’re going to hear it from anyone.”

He could’ve laughed. He might’ve, but the noise came out cracked, jarringly stilted, too unintelligible to be recognized. Again, you moved to pull away, to shrug him off completely, but Bokuto didn’t let you. He didn’t want to. “It’s not---”

“It’s over.” You weren’t breaking up with him. You couldn’t be breaking up with him, but it sounded like you were, like you could’ve been trying to. Like you were about to do something shortsighted and cruel, and he wasn’t sure how to stop you. “Your friends noticed you couldn’t play, and they asked me to cheer you up. That’s all it was,” You explained, your tone now light, casual, borderline uncaring. Like you didn’t have a reason to be half as torn up as he was. “I wanted to help. I was going to let you down gently, but then you just got so… intense, I wasn’t sure how to get out.”

“Intense?” He pulled back willingly, if only to make his confusion obvious. “What do you mean, princess?”

A pang of discomfort flashed across your expression. Thankfully, you were kind enough not to correct him. “It’s just… You get so overbearing, sometimes. It was starting to get suffocating.” You sighed, letting yourself close your eyes. Bokuto might’ve winced, if he wasn’t already so spent. “I felt like I couldn’t breathe without having to see you take it out on someone else. It’s better, this way. We’re just not compatible.”

“You love me.” He might’ve been whispering. He might’ve been screaming. Bokuto couldn’t tell – blood was rushing past his ears, clouding his thoughts, making it impossible to hear on anything else. “You love me, just like I love you. You couldn’t have went through with this, if you didn’t. You can’t—” You winced, and Bokuto realized he was digging his nails into your sides, that he was holding you a little too tightly and you probably didn’t like that. Then again, he wasn’t sure what you liked, anymore. He couldn’t be sure you’d ever even liked him. “You need me. We need each other. You can’t just pretend you don’t because of some shitty deal.”

In your defense, you didn’t yell, you didn’t lose your temper. You just shook your head, dropping your gaze to the sheets. “Go home, Bokuto. This is better for both of us. You’ll see that, when you calm down.”

“No, no.” He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to, he needed to show you that the two of you were meant for each other, but you looked so serious, he was forced to shove the feeling down, to stave it off for another few minutes. You weren’t acting like yourself, right now. You thought you didn’t love him. “It’s fine, babe, we’ll talk it out. You just need some time to—”

You didn’t bother to soften the blow, this time. “There’s nothing to talk about. Go home.”

“No.” He was grabbing at your arms before he had a chance to hold himself back, taking you be the shoulders, trying to stop you from doing something reckless. That’s what this was — reckless. You weren’t thinking. You couldn’t be thinking, not if you were about to say something so heartless. “I just need to show you I’m—”

There was a blur of movement, a sharp crack. By the time Bokuto realized what happened, his head was turned to the side, his cheek burning where you palm collided with his skin. Reflexively, he let go of you, moving to nurse his bruised ego, and you didn’t waist time, standing and retreating to the opposite corner of your small bedroom. “Get out.” You were trying to growl. You were trying to intimidate him, you were trying to care your boyfriend. That hurt more than the slap ever could, honestly. “Get out now, before I call the fucking cops.”

It might’ve been the shock. You caught him off-guard, at his lowest, when his resolve was just thin enough to snap, and when you glared, when you looked at him like he would ever hurt you, he’d be lying if he said a part of him didn’t break, shattering and giving away like a thin layer of ice trying to hold something twice its weight. For whatever reason, he didn’t argue, he didn’t even look at you, keeping his eyes on the ground as he pushed himself to his feet. You were being irrational. You didn’t want him to stay, to comfort you, to help you be reasonable.

If he didn’t know better, he might’ve said you didn’t want him at all, anymore.

At least he made it outside before he collapsed, buckling under his own weight as soon as your front door shut behind him. In an instant, his vision blurred, the tightness in his chest turning into a throbbing ache, but he couldn’t seem to care. He couldn’t think. He didn’t want to, not if it meant admitting everything that’d just happened was real.

It was all Bokuto could do to fish his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through his contacts blindly until he found what he was looking for. He wasn’t even sure who he planned on calling, not until his phone was already ringing, a familiar, reliable voice immediately picking up, on the other end.

“Akaashi?” His voice cracked, and distantly, he realized he was starting to cry.

“Do you have a minute? I just… I gotta tell you about something.”