#which wouldn’t be a big deal but i need the grade as soon as possible

[szczylpierdolony]

so. stressed out. can i please finish this thesis

[sixeyesgojo]

all good things come in threes

☾ Summary: Winning a bet against Gojo ‘big ass ego’ Satoru isn't as easy as you thought. But you can't complain either. ☾ Characters: highschool!Gojo Satoru x reader ☾ Word count: 6k ☾ Content warning: use of petnames, implied height difference, tooth-rotting fluff, Gojo's a little shit and has negative rizz ☾ Author's note: My heart was going through STUFF. ☾ Tags: @nagumoan @heresan @peachsayshi @trueformsukuna @gojos-princesa @cursedmoonchild

White tufts of hair. Round sunglasses. An annoying facial expression directed at you. That was your view. You let out an exasperated sigh. Out of everyone available at the time, they just had to choose you to partner up with Satoru. It was to make sure the young conceited sorcerer wouldn’t go overboard or well, get ahead of himself. Sure, his abilities were extraordinary and even at a young age, he had already displayed an astonishing understanding of his cursed techniques and various other battle-related skills. Everyone knew that Satoru was set to be a pioneer and that he didn’t exactly need a partner to fulfill his missions. You knew about his abilities, how they worked and his modus operandi, already having had experience partnering up with him on various missions. But those had been wildly different as they required a partner, a second person. This one clearly didn’t. Yet they still sent you with him, knowing full well that he could handle it himself. These damn fossils.

It was understandable that Satoru had his own opinions about this rather unexpected turn of events. After having heard his initial protestations, which contained the words “no faith”, “incompetent” and how he was “not some random weakling”, you’ve had enough and it began to annoy you. Neither of you were responsible for orders being passed down as they were; and both of you knew that some of them did not make sense, some of them were plain unreasonable and some of them just seemed antiquated, obsolete, outdated. If anyone had enough power to object orders from above, it was the young sorcerer in front of you. However, he didn’t bother to do so. As for you, you had questioned the intent behind the task assigned to you, but simply accepted it as it was. There was no helping it anyway. In the end, you were just a cog in a giant and screwed system.

And so, you were stuck with him on a mission to rescue civilians and eliminate a first grade curse. “I still don’t understand why I need a partner for this. Do I look like a total wimp?” he complained and pulled a grimace.

You rolled your eyes at him, clearly displeased at the situation yourself, “I bet they assigned me to keep your big ass ego in check.”

For someone who had grumbled that much about you being his partner this time around, Satoru certainly seemed entertained in one way or another. At least, a small part of him seemed to revel in the situation. “And I’m sure you will do an excellent job at keeping my ‘big ass ego’ at bay,” he retorted sarcastically, all while giving you that damn smirk. No one else in the world could look so smug while being a prick. So what if you found him attractive? So what if his teasing made your heart skip one or two beats? So what if the smirk made you want to kiss it off of his stupid face? His personality was foul enough. At that moment, all you wanted to do was to smack him but you knew exactly that his bothersome Infinity wouldn’t let you.

“Ugh, I don’t exactly enjoy being stuck with someone who constantly complains either. I’ll just get this mission done as quickly as I can and then we’re both free from each other. Deal?” you rambled. Your keenness to end this all as soon as possible made his ears perk up and upon hearing this, the white-haired teenager dropped his empty can on the ground, “Woah woah woah, hold your horses. I am pretty sure you can’t even defeat the curse as fast as I can, so who’s stuck with who?”

You shrugged as you picked up the metal can, ever so trusting in your abilities. Although you knew he was the strongest, that didn’t mean you couldn’t beat him to it, right? You just had to be clever about it. “Fine, let’s make a bet then. Whoever lands the finishing blow on the curse wins,” you suggested and tossed the metallic container into a trashcan. Satoru raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “Loser has to do whatever the winner wants,” the sorcerer decided. He seemed interested enough.

“Fine by me. Don’t cry about it when I win,” you said, grinning at him. He grinned back at you, all too confident in his victory already, “I’m afraid I’ll be the one wiping your tears.”

Days passed. Finally, the fateful day was here.

“Will you hurry up?” he urged you. “I’m already on my way,” you replied, annoyed at being rushed by him. Why were you two walking to the scene in the first place? “Come on, we don’t have all day,” he continued. You rolled your eyes. Not everybody had the privilege of having stilts for legs. Still, you sped up in order to catch up to him.

“This is the place,” Satoru pointed out, stopping abruptly. He held his arm out in front of you, as if to keep you out… if one was delusional enough, the gesture could have been interpreted as a protective one. Promptly, you shook your head. There was no time for such thoughts. You could daydream later—focus was more important now.

“There are still people inside. We need to evacuate them first,” he inferred, looking into your eyes. Your mind then switched to mission mode immediately.  “Then we can take it down together.”

You nodded; even without verbal communication, the allocation of tasks was successfully conveyed. Vanishing from his sight, you were off to evacuate anyone that was left in the vicinity. Sure, Satoru could find the curse and get rid of it on his own. Then he would have won the bet easily. However, something in your gut told you that he wouldn’t do that. He could be fair… sometimes—even if it was for his own enjoyment. Admittedly, he wasn’t a bad partner on missions; he just wasn’t the greatest personality-wise. But he certainly had a charm to him. That’s how he unknowingly wrapped you around his finger…

The evacuation went as smooth as it could—with one or two stray bullets that would not listen, as per usual. Since you had already done this lots of times, you were able to finish up quickly and get the civilians to safety with the help of the assistants: the Windows.

“I’m here,” you announced to him as soon as you were back. And you were right! He just leaned against a wall, waiting for you. “About time. I almost thought you wouldn’t come anymore because you got scared shitless. You ready to take this thing down?” He asked. You smirked at him, “You bet I am. Ready to kick your sorry ass.”

Chuckling, he swung himself into a proper standing position. “Alright. I see you’re being as feisty as ever. Remember: The loser will have to do whatever the other person wants after all this is over,” the tall teenager reminded you with a cocky grin. Oh, he was so sure that he would win. His eyes gleamed with excitement and he was ready to fight this curse to ensure his oh-so-sweet victory over you. Of course, he had already thought of his prospective prize.

As if on cue, the curse appeared behind him and roared. In the blink of an eye, two giant claws came swinging at Satoru. You didn’t hesitate to activate your own cursed technique, successfully blocking the slash attack at frightening speed.

“Mark me impressed,” Satoru laughed. It wasn’t his first time seeing you in action but he couldn’t help but tease you, “You’re still not on my level but it’ll do.”

You rolled your eyes, “You say this every time we’re partnered up. Doesn’t it get old?”

He simply laughed as you both dodged an incoming blow. The two of you continued to face off with the curse. Before long, both of you had landed blows on the enemy. He was holding back for some reason—that’s what you thought—otherwise you were sure that this level of curse would have been taken care of by his hands already. It was neither weak nor was it anything drastically above your level. There was one thing you were sure about: He was stalling—and you played right into his games. But your pride wouldn’t let you drop out of the bet. 

It wasn’t long until the curse crumbled to dust. You panted a little, looking at the white-haired sorcerer. The enemy was gone now but he didn’t look like he had broken a single sweat. He dusted himself off and straightened his posture.

“Now about that winner and loser thing…” he began, “I think you can guess the winner.”

You huffed. Damn. Despite holding out well, your plan was a failure. But a bet was a bet, right? “Fine, what do you want me to do?” you probed. He wouldn’t ask you to do bizarre things for him, right?

Satoru tapped his chin, pretending to think, when in reality he had already known before the fight even started. You looked like you poured your whole heart into winning, so he couldn’t help but hold back a little.

“Then… how about going out for ice cream? It’s on me. I think I deserve ice cream after working so hard,” he finally spoke. At first, you thought your brain was playing pranks on you. “Wait,” you paused, “Are you asking me out as your prize for winning the bet?”

A playful grin spread on his face. “You could definitely say that.” He specified, “But I also just really like ice cream on a summer day and I think we deserve some. What, are you chickening out now?”

You looked at him quizzically, questioning whether this was a joke on his part. You felt your heart speed up and the tips of your ears became warmer by the second. “Fair. A win is a win. I guess I’ll go have ice cream with you,” you muttered. Was he scheming something? Did he… perhaps like—

He chuckled and proceeded with a half-teasing tone, “You guess?” The laughter that followed after was soft. “We gotta report back first and then we can go.” Without further ado, he turned on his heel and walked away. The grin that was on his face was not visible to you. “Ugh, shut up,” you grumbled, still somewhat flustered. Nevertheless, you followed him. This damn heart wouldn’t let you rest.

The briefing didn’t take long at all—the mission was a success. After making a report, the two of you headed to a nearby ice cream store. As you stood in line waiting for your sweet cold treat, you looked at his face. He was even better looking than you originally thought. Come to think of it, you might have never looked at him from up close. Suddenly, he turned to you. “What flavor are you getting?” Satoru asked curiously.

You looked at him and answered, “Lime with mint.” It was one of your favorite flavors.

“Lime with mint, huh?” he repeated and looked towards the sky as if you had just asked him a deeply philosophical question he needed to ponder about. “Not a bad choice. I’m getting mango. Can’t go wrong with that.” He paid for the ice cream, as promised, and guided both of you to a nearby bench so you could enjoy the treat. His eyes were positively gleaming with delight after he sat down. It was happiness that resembled yours whenever you got ice cream. “Why lime with mint?” Satoru wondered. With a shrug, you replied, “I just like lime. With mint in it, it’s more refreshing in summer. Have you ever tried?”

Satoru shook his head, so you allowed him to have a taste. You could pinpoint the exact moment when he realized that your statement was the truth: It was nice and refreshing indeed. He made a mental note that your ice cream taste was impeccable. “Any other flavor you enjoy?” he probed. It took a moment of thinking until you came up with something, “Matcha ice cream. I like mango too.”

“Good call. Mango is one of my favorites for sure,” he said as he took a bite of his scoop of ice cream.

“I’m wondering,” you said aloud, “why did you choose to ask me out as your reward? I expected… actually, I don’t know what I expected but it was definitely something else.”

The sorcerer pondered, thinking about how to phrase it. “Like what?” he asked. “I don’t know. Maybe kissing your ass, being your accomplice for pranks or something like that. That would be on-brand for you,” you joked. You would have never expected such a turn of events.

“That would have been an amazing idea, actually,” the guy mused. In retrospect, it would have been better if you hadn’t said anything to not fuel his dumb ideas. “You absolute jackass! Nobody wants to kiss your ass!”

Even though you should have expected such a reply coming from him, you couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit scandalized at the mental image of you kissing his rear. Gross. You shook your head to get rid of the imagery.

And yet, your curiosity hadn’t been quenched at all. As impatient as you were about his reply, you further probed him on the matter, “So… about my question…?”

As if to hide any embarrassing feelings, your opposite snickered. “Right… about that…” he cleared his throat, “I just kinda like our banter a lot… and you. So I figured that I should just shoot my shot. ‘What are they gonna say? No?’ was what I thought but see, a bet’s a bet! And I won!”

Oh. Oh.

Your eyes widened. So it was like that. 

Gojo Satoru? The Gojo Satoru? The conceited prick Satoru? Your crush Satoru? And you? Together? Never in a hundred years. But… it’s not like you had any right to complain about it, seeing as your heart was threatening to break out of its bony confinement.

“Hey, hey, hey. No need to look so surprised. I’ve been trying to get closer to you, didn’t you notice?” he asked, tilting his head to the left side, as if to get a better glimpse of your surprised expression.

“You thought being the most annoying prick to ever walk on Earth would do the trick?” Your jaw dropped. A strange expression of surprise flitted across your face for a split second. He shrugged his shoulders, “Well, it definitely worked—after all I got your undivided attention, didn’t I?”

Flabbergasted—that’s what you were. However, your composure quickly made a comeback and you could only laugh. A million-watt grin greeted you. Damn this man. He knew how to charm you, intentionally or not. “It sure did, you know! But not in the most positive light… Instead of calling me weak, you could have asked me what my favorite color is, what my favorite food is or something like that… Things normal people do!” you told him truthfully. Rather than arguing back, Satoru raised his free hand in defense, “I didn’t say you were weak, I just said you’re not on my level!”

You couldn’t help but raise your eyebrow and he quickly dropped the topic. Deciding to take your advice to heart, he asked you about your favorite cake and any ‘hidden gems and recommendations’, as he called them. The sudden change in topic threw you off a little, but as long as he tried, right? You were almost inclined to reward him with a good noodle star. Not that you���d do that. In place of that, you opted to go with the alternative: provide him with the information he asked for. So you thought about it carefully before answering him. He listened intently.

“I’ll keep those in mind. Making a mental list for the next time we hang out,” he grinned at you, tapping his temple. “You want to hang out again? I’m not boring you out of your mind yet?” you asked puzzledly, still in disbelief that he showed actual interest in you outside of work. “Why wouldn’t I want to?” He seemed slightly confused and raised a white eyebrow.

“Do you not want to?” He glanced at you with his bright, sparkling eyes. The notion of spending more time with you excited him. The enthusiasm was reflected in his cerulean eyes. When you thought about it, it only made sense, considering he had just confessed that he found you intriguing. “I just assumed you couldn’t stand me because I wasn’t as strong as you because you kept being mean to me,” you admitted somewhat shyly.

“I’m not that mean!” He said, acting shocked, though you noticed he was trying to hide a chuckle.

After a few seconds, Satoru sighed and clarified, “I can be a bit mean at times but I promise I never hated you or anything.” He smiled and you swore it was a smile that could threaten to make your knees a bit weak. Lucky for you that you were sitting on a bench. It was almost unfair how blessed he was with good looks. He continued, “I actually enjoy your company. You’re interesting and fun and I can tell you’re not afraid to bite back but you can be friendly if you want to. If anything, I like that a lot about you.”

A slight feeling of abashment prompted you to avoid his gaze. This was unusual. You weren’t used to him being so openly kind. “You know, I’d think I prefer you teasing me… without being straight up rude,” you confessed. His eyes widened briefly. Yet, a smirk soon returned to his face, “I see. You’re a masochist. Just kidding! I can definitely do that. It’ll be interesting to see how you react to me teasing you.”

Of course, you wouldn’t let that sit on you and you bit back, “Don’t expect me not to fight back, though.” And there it was, the slightly awkward atmosphere from earlier dissipated and everything returned to your usual banter.

Satoru clicked his tongue, “Trust me, I don’t expect you to be anyone but yourself. But I’m still looking forward to what you’ll do when I tease you, though.” He winked. “Not only are you an interesting person, but you’re fairly cute too.”

Who? You? “Huh?” you blurted out, baffled at the sudden compliment. With the way he was grinning at you, he had to be messing with you since he enjoyed seeing your reactions. “Did I say something wrong? I wasn’t lying. You’re adorable. Do you think you’re not?” Oh, he was definitely messing with you.

“Not really,” you shot back. You knew you weren’t ugly but hearing a compliment from someone as stunning as Satoru was something else. But cute and adorable…? That wasn’t exactly the best way to compliment someone you wanted to get attention from. If anything, it fueled something almost akin to spite within you. You felt the urge to tease him back.

“Come on, it was a genuine compliment from me. That’s gotta count for something, doesn’t it?” he pouted. You couldn’t detect any kind of indication that he was lying. “Thank you, you’re not so bad yourself,” you complimented him back. “Really?” he let out a gasp that was obviously fake, “I’m not so bad?”

You nodded, prompting the white-haired man to raise his eyebrow as he contemplated. “You’re right, I’m not bad,” he nodded in agreement with you. 

“I am great,” he said, a smirk forming on his face.

You chuckled, “You know. I think if it wasn’t for your foul personality, I would have fallen for you long ago.”

“Foul personality?” Satoru gasped as he brought a hand to his chest to grab it. “Maybe you’re just as mean as I am!” A laugh escaped from your throat and it was like music to his ears. “I never said I was nice, did I?” you fired back at him and he couldn’t help but grin. “See? I think I like you more when you're sassy. Maybe we're not as different as you thought,” he spoke. After a moment, he added, “I wouldn't mind if you treated me like this all the time. I could even get used to it.”

“So the great Gojo Satoru likes being degraded, I see. Noted,” you teased him again. One of his hands moved to his mouth to cover it, pretending to be horrified. He leaned forward and you could see a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I don’t think ‘degradation’ is the right term here; I just enjoy teasing you and... being teased by you. Is that so bad?” he asked. “Then,” you began and stood up, the ice cream was long finished. You placed your index finger beneath his chin, moving it up so he was facing you as you got closer to his face. He could feel your breath. “Do you like this?” you asked. Your goal was to get back at him for flustering you earlier. So why was your heart beating so fast?

“I think I do,” he simply said. His pale blue eyes seemed to peer at you, piercing you, as if looking for an answer to a question that had been left unasked. Despite being in a sitting position, he still radiated a confident aura. Suddenly the closeness you had created between the two of you was too much for you. Your body backed away automatically but you found yourself unable to move any farther from him—he didn’t let you. Instead, he reduced the gap between the two of you even more, slowly coming closer to you.

His fingers had already sneakily encircled your left forearm without you noticing. Mesmerizing eyes robbed you of your ability to move. You didn’t notice you held your breath until you needed to inhale sharply. Who was teasing who now? Caught like a deer in headlights, adrenaline rushed through your veins as anticipation clouded your mind. That was the moment you realized that you were into him more than you’d like to admit. You swore you could hear your heartbeat pounding loudly in your ears. The tension became too much and the ringing in your ears amplified and—

And then he closed the gap between you. Your brain blacked out. All you could think about was his lips on yours. Saying that you didn’t like his lips melting into yours was a lie. Satoru was leaving a sweet hint of his mango-flavored ice cream for you to taste, as if to claim you as his.

After a few seconds, Satoru broke the kiss. The shit-eating grin on his face was telling. “I think I liked this more though. You should let me do that more often. Maybe every day,” he winked at you. He looked at your frozen expression and chuckled; he genuinely had fun flirting with you. Still dazed from the kiss, your brain was unable to conjure any thoughts. All you knew was that you wanted—no, it was a need to kiss him again. As if your body would be set ablaze if you didn’t listen to your desire, your lips chased his and you kissed him again.

Satoru blinked. He was a bit taken aback at first but quickly returned the kiss, closing his eyes. After all, he had just boldly said that he wanted to do it more often. When you broke the kiss, he leaned forward before speaking. You noticed that the tip of his ears were a little red. It was a cute detail that you wouldn’t have noticed from afar.

“Damn, you’re a really good kisser,” the sorcerer said in a low voice, smiling at you. “Can I try again?” he asked, the smile still adorning his face. “All good things come in threes, I suppose,” you smiled back at him and leaned in again. Who would have thought that you would kiss this guy?

Without hesitation, the sitting Satoru pulled you into his lap and he kissed you again, heart beating faster with each passing second. After a few moments, he pulled away.

“Yeah, three sounds like a good number… but I prefer Infinity,” he said breathlessly. His cheeks were slightly flushed, a sign that he was enjoying himself. The white-haired adolescent reached up and pulled a stray strand of hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear. He playfully added, “We should do this more often. Don't you agree?”

“Now you’re just being greedy!” you joked as you hit his chest playfully. It was only now that you noticed that his Limitless technique wasn’t in effect. “Greedy? Who? Me? Never!” he gasped again, pretending to be hurt over your accusation. “You hit me pretty hard there. I could have gotten hurt…” He glanced at the hand you used to hit him, “Do you want me to hit you too? Or maybe I should ask for damage compensation?”

You could tell he wasn’t serious by the way he smiled. “If you go on and hit me with your lips, then sure. Alternatively, I can offer lip service as compensation. Choose your poison, choose your hell.”

For a moment, he looked at you with mock horror. Then, he broke out in laughter at your statement. “Actually, that first one sounds like a good idea. I’ll go ahead and hit you with my lips then. But gently. Because I’m a gentleman.” He tenderly placed his two hands at the side of your face and slowly pulled you closer to him. Tilting his head slightly, he leaned in until your lips met. It was very gentle and your heart was filled with excitement, with exhilaration, as he kissed you. As your hands gripped his uniform tightly, you slowly lost yourself in the kiss, getting drunk on his lips. Maybe you should curse him for being a good kisser.

Satoru ended the kiss with a peck on the corner of your mouth and looked at you with a soft gaze, the softest you had ever seen on him. The dazed look on your face made him laugh again, “Don’t get too drunk on my kisses.” Stroking your cheeks with his long fingers, he laughed once again when he saw your pouting face, “You’re adorable, you know that?”

“Correct me if I’m wrong but you’re not entirely unaffected by kissing me,” you stated as-a-matter-of-factly and raised an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms. Being called out like this was embarrassing but it was pretty clear that you weren’t the only one affected with how the tips of his ears became slightly redder with each time you touched lips.

His lips formed a smile, “They’re addictive, if I’m being honest. I don’t… I don’t want to stop kissing you. I could do this all day, every day.” 

“If kissing me is addictive, then I think I’m doing a great job at affecting you,” you chuckled. The way your mouth moved as you spoke and the way the corners moved upwards to form a cheeky smile; he couldn’t take his eyes off. His heart thumped loudly in his chest, his thumb moved along the corner of your mouth. He couldn’t stop staring, the urge to lay his lips on yours once more strong. “You’re fun to be around. I like you, a lot. I’m enjoying how I feel when I’m close to you. I love whatever effect you have on me,” he spoke clearly.

He was fixated, enchanted, spell-bound even. “Is… Is this a confession?” you asked, hopeful eyes peering up at his. You took notice of the entranced look on his face. He blurted out, “I think I already fell for you a while ago.” As he realized what he had done, his eyes widened in shock and he wanted to slap his palms on his mouth, but he didn’t because that meant letting go of you. This time, it wasn’t fake shock but he genuinely didn’t think he’d blurt it out like that. But it was okay, because you liked him too. What was the use of pretending you didn’t?

“I think that makes two of us then,” as you admitted it, you felt your ears blazing with heat. “I’m saying that I like you too.” 

It took him a moment to process in his brain. Despite being academically clever and praised for his intelligence and wit in battles, you found it took him rather long to work out the meaning behind your words. “I knew you liked me, despite your sass.” No need to hide it now that he’d taken a look inside your heart. “We’re a dangerous duo,” the sorcerer noted, amused by his realization. You agreed with him, “Just two flirty kids who give trouble a run for its money.”

“Hey,” he suddenly began after a few moments, “Have you ever dated someone before? Are there any current or ex boyfriends I need to be worried about?” Satoru’s voice came out softly and he looked at you, awaiting an answer that would please him… because if not… he felt his heart drop at the thought. You wouldn’t… right?

Uncertainty clouded his mind as he looked at your face. “I have dated someone before but it didn’t work out. I’m not seeing anyone at the moment,” you clarified and wagged your index finger at him. “And honestly, even if there was… I think you’d do a great job at keeping them away,” you added.

And then, relief washed over him. With hindsight, he should have asked that before kissing you—a small part inside him admonished him for it but his heart couldn’t help but leap at your words. Quickly recomposing himself, he grinned back at you, “I bet with all the sass, sarcasm and cheekiness you’ve got, you can keep them away just as easily by yourself.”

Obviously, you had a comeback up your sleeve, “I never said I couldn’t. But you’d do a decent job at it. Because anyone would be scared of a tall white-haired dude who is full of himself.”

A hearty laugh came out of his throat; he expected nothing less from you. You were good at getting back at him in the most entertaining and beautiful ways. There was no doubt that you were able to handle his ‘foul’ personality well. “So we’re both good at keeping guys away from us, huh? You really do think I’m full of myself, don’t you? So why didn’t you reject me before?” he questioned. “Judging from what happened earlier… I might not be that good at keeping guys like you away from me. I wasn’t born with your technique after all. And I’m not sure if I want to keep away a guy named Gojo Satoru from me,” you grin at him and pinch his cheek gently.

“I’m flattered,” he fake-sniffed and then he leaned even closer, “So did I hear that correctly? You don’t want to keep a tall, almighty and handsome guy like me away from you? Hm?”

“No, I don’t want to keep you away from me. But I think if we dated, we’d be dangerous to other people. Our superiors wouldn’t approve of it, I am sure,” you mused. It was logical but Satoru gave you a bizarre look, “And you care about what some old farts have to say? Strange thing to be worried about when you’re someone who usually fires back right away.”

“I was just saying. I don’t care about what they think; I like playing dangerously. Wouldn’t be in this line of work if that wasn’t the case,” the words coming out of your mouth made him feel delighted. The smug look on your face only added to it.

“That makes us a dangerous duo, huh? The perfect pair to take down curses and cause trouble, I kinda like that,” he clicked his tongue as he finished speaking. The thought of the two of you wreaking havoc was fun and thrilling, admittedly. Principal Yaga was sure to get white hair at this rate—not that Satoru cared too much about it, as long as the old man didn’t die of shock or cardiac arrest.

“You bet,” you shot him a cheeky smile. “Then it’s settled, wouldn’t you say? You and I are an amazing partner match, sweetheart. Just a danger to society,” Satoru established.

“That’s sort of ironic, considering that our job is to protect society as it is,” you remarked. And yet, it didn’t matter to you at all. All you felt at the moment was the pleasantness of the world, of Gojo Satoru’s presence and coming clean with your feelings.

“Hey, since you brought it up already… I’m going to assume that you’re fine with dating me…?” He briefly looked at the ground, then back at you. The little bit of uncertainty in his tone was almost cute to you. For the first time, the usually cocky and confident platinum—haired sorcerer wasn’t so sure about his words in front of you. Seeing him like this wasn’t so bad, you noticed.

You got on your tiptoes to gently place a peck on his cheek. Your actions were contradictory to your following question: “What makes you think you’re worthy of being my boyfriend?”

You were only teasing him, hoping that your sweet kiss was answer enough. Part of you hoped that he got the playful tone in your voice. But when he glanced down at you as you struggled to reach his lips on your tiptoes, a wide grin spread across his face as you leaned in and kissed him. His heart raced as he snaked his two arms around your waist to steady you.

With an eye smile so boyish that it made you blink once, twice, Satoru was quick to respond, “Opposite day already passed, you brat. I think it’s only fair to deduce that if I’m worthy of your kiss, I’m most likely good enough to be your boyfriend.”

“Hmmm, you think so?” you grin mischievously at him and slung your arms around his neck. Your goal was to rile him up a little, it was in your nature to be a little annoying about it.

“I’d say a kiss is a good sign, sugar,” he retorted with a sassy tone in his voice. He tightened his arms around your waist, effectively hugging you closer to him. There was no escape for you—not that you wanted to flee from him anyways. On the contrary: You rested your head on his shoulder.

“Then I think it’s in order that my official boyfriend kisses me now and goes on a date with me,” you murmured into his ear. A slight movement indicated that he was reacting to your whisper. He gulped and swiftly got his cool back. “That can be arranged,” Satoru smiled as he moved his hands to the sides of your face and closed the gap once more. After separating from your lips, his arms moved back to their original spot.

He snickered to himself, “I can’t believe you’re so cheeky and smooth.”

You stuck your tongue out at him—and to him, you looked so adorable doing it. “Being a menace who is cheeky and smooth is my forte,” you claimed brazenly. “How does it feel to be my boyfriend?”

“Being handsome and strong is part of my job as the notorious kid from the Gojo clan. But being your official boyfriend was not in the job description when I signed up to be a sorcerer. I’ll take my incentive bonus payment in the form of love and affection from you,” he joked and nuzzled your nose. Satoru’s warm hands found yours and he didn’t hesitate to intertwine your fingers.

“Then I guess our first date will be a salary negotiation,” you laughed back at him. This was the start of something beautiful, but also the start of double trouble for some poor souls. Not that any of you cared anyway.

White tufts of hair and round sunglasses would accompany you more frequently from now on.

[acetonelungz]

Jaws

pt1 pt2 pt3 pt4

Simon Riley was a whisper in the wind.

Rumors and wise tells of the infamous “Ghost” haunted every soldier, even those not on the opposing team.

He was scary. And not the little kid monster type of scary, scary as in he stood in the corner and watched you like prey. Scary in the way that everyone thought of him as a ticking time bomb. Expect for John Price.

“So are you in, Simon?”

“Ghost is in, Simon is gone.”

“Ah, right. My bad mate.”

And now he was here, in enemy territory aiding in the rescue of some soldier.

Simon was the type to not question missions and just simply get the job done.

This one was different though.

Why make a big fuss over some low grade soldier? Quite a bit of trouble over a nobody. His questions remained mere thoughts, as he wouldn’t question out loud his authoritative figures. Ghost also quite literally couldn’t give two fucks.

Following Price, he scoured the hallways, making sure to take down everything threat and security camera. Soon enough, they arrived at a heavily locked door.

“This outta be it.” Price whispered back towards Ghost. “Plantin’ a lil package.” He placed an IUD on the door and quickly found cover before an explosion sounded off.

Deciding to do double kill, he threw a flash bomb to curb any possible threats.

Upon running into the space, he discovered exactly what they had been looking for.

A little feisty brunette who attempted to kick him in the balls.

“I’m Captain Price and we’re here to rescue you.”

“Took ya fucking long enough.” Ghost chuckled.

“Whats funny fuckface?” He did not chuckle this time.

Price huffed a half-assed laugh while lifting her up by the arms, “Easy there, we’re just here to help and we need to leave asap.” With that he turned and headed towards the now torn up door.

She followed wordlessly behind him, as well as Ghost.

As they walked towards around the base, the bodies of soldiers could be seen all along the corridors and hallways. One in particular, was the guard from earlier. It took everything within her not to spit on his dead body, but rather she lightly kicked it. In return Price gave her a unsatisfied look.

“I think after what I’ve been through I can at least do that.”

He nodded without saying a word.

Soon enough they reached the massive tan military trucks just outside the base, only two were present which sparked confusion within the woman.

“How many of there were you?”

“What’d you expect a bloody army private?” Ghost huffed from underneath his mask.

This royally pissed her off.

She quickly got into his face, sneering “Actually it’s lieutenant, and for how many bodies there were I assumed there were more of you. Not an unintelligent question but rather an unintelligent response.”

“You have five seconds to get the fuck out of my face-“

“Okay you two.” Price quickly separated the two, focused on the woman while saying, “We need to be cordial if we’re going to figure this entire thing out. Once we get back to base there are many questions we need to find the answer to. The sooner we get back the sooner you can be done with this all. So knock it off and get the in the bloody truck.”

“Yes Captain.” They said in unison, the woman glared at Ghost while he remained unbothered. Realizing it wasn’t worth it, she dropped it and got in the truck.

‘My first interaction with people in six months and this is what I’m dealing with. One dressed up asshole who is awkward as a prepubescent boy and an old man who thinks he’s my father.’ She thought while riding in the back while Ghost rode passenger with Price driving.

“I forgot to ask earlier,” Price started, breaking the girl out of her thoughts. “Can you confirm your name and status?”

“Lieutenant Collette Swanson also known as Jaws.”

[scarlett-vixen]

could you do C with beel and hurt/comfort fluff if possible? thanks and congrats on 200 followers!! u deserve every single one :)

Anon my beloved I am SO sorry you had to wait for this!! I hope you’re still around and enjoy it though! What I wouldn’t give to cry my eyes out while Beel holds me :( bet he gives the best hugs! Also I can’t imagine Beel personally hurting you so i made him give all the comfort💖

Prompt: C- Cry

Pairing: Beelzebub x Gn!Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort + Fluff

Everyday in the Devildom was difficult as a human to some extent, you were much smaller than everyone else, had no real way of protecting yourself, not to mention you now had seven unruly roommates who didn’t seem to know what privacy was.

On top of all that you also had school work to do, which really sealed the deal on this being hell for you. It wasn’t just school work though, it was Devildom school work. Meaning you had weird classes with even weirder assignments, you had projects that required you to transform things or make them disappear, your homework sometimes had to be translated through three different languages before you could understand it. Everything was piling up and to be honest you were at your breaking point.

Today was the day, you could feel it in your bones the minute you woke up. You spilled your drink all over your uniform at breakfast, you went to turn in your essay and noticed an entire page was missing, your pen leaked all inside your backpack, you just needed to survive long enough to turn in your project at the end of the day.

Your project was actually the only good thing happening lately. Usually you struggled putting together big diorama’s but this one had been easy, you were proud of how well it turned out and were positive you’d get an A on it.

You made your way to the classroom storing all the finished projects, hoping to add a few finishing touches to secure your high grade. As you approached the door you noticed two lower demons standing against the lockers outside, eyeing you and stifling laughs, you ignored them and entered the room anyway.

You found the table holding your project and removed the sheet covering it, as soon as the sheet dropped you felt the air leave your body. You stood face to face with the left over corpse of your project, broken, smashed and a sticky substance covering it.

All your hard work, all the hours you spent putting it together, all the time you spent alone in your room. This project had survived living with seven chaotic demons, but now it was a pile of rubble practically. Your eyes started to sting, you felt your heart break a little.

“That’s what you get for being a teachers pet.”

“Go back to your own realm already.”

You turned slightly to see the two demons from before standing in the doorway, they continued to laugh and sneer at you, quite obvious they had been the killers here. They soon left you alone in the room, left with nothing but your broken project and broken heart.

You couldn’t deal with it anymore, no matter what you did it seemed like a losing game, for the first time since you arrived you ditched your last two classes of the day and went into hiding.

You managed to hold it together pretty well on the way home, but the moment you closed your bedroom door the tears flooded out of you. Knowing you were home alone you made no attempt to silence your cries, the frustration that had been building inside you finally being released, your throat becoming sore with each cry that left you.

Curled up on your bed, making yourself as small as possible, you tried to calm yourself. You just wanted to vanish, you felt so alone down here yet it always seemed like all eyes were on you.

Caught up in your own misery you didn’t hear the door creak open, you completely missed the sound of footsteps walking towards you and you certainly didn’t hear your name being called in a soft voice.

It wasn’t until a hand touched your shoulder that you realized you weren’t alone anymore, you screamed from the sudden contact causing the hand to flinch away, looking up you found Beel standing over you with deep concern and fear in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” The sixth born spoke in such a quiet voice it seemed like he was on the verge of tears himself.

“Do I look okay?” You snapped at him, immediately regretting it.

“No…you look really upset, is something wrong?” As caring and thoughtful as he was, Beel had always struggled with your sarcasm especially when it was filled with attitude.

“Everything is wrong, if you must know,” You sat up on the bed trying to feel slightly less small than the massive demon in front of you. “I can’t do anything right anymore.”

You watched him fidget with his hands, glancing down at your bed and shifting his weight on his feet, you knew what he wanted but was too nervous to ask for. You scooted over making room for him to sit, the moment you did he settled down next to you, you kept yourself small by hugging your knees to your chest.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” He offered.

“No. Not really.” You felt a sharp sting in your lungs, the tears were approaching quickly.

“Do you want a hug?” Beel tilted his head, a warm smile on his face. Such a small gesture of kindness yet it broke you entirely.

“Yes…” You threw yourself into his open arms, your tears pouring out as fast as they could. You felt his arms wrap around your body, tightening just a little each time you sobbed into his chest.

You began spilling your heart to him, about not feeling good enough, about not feeling like you belong, about the destroyed project, and about the demons who wanted you to leave. Even though you were recalling some of the most awful things, you never felt better than in this moment.

Wrapped in the arms of one of the only demons who ever showed you pure kindness on a daily basis, you felt safe, you felt loved, you felt as if none of this really mattered as long as you could stay in his embrace.

“I want you here.” His voice shaky. You glanced up through tear filled eyes and saw that Beel was close to tears himself. “Things are better with you here… I don’t want you to leave.”

You couldn’t help but smile, it only made sense that such a big demon would have such a big heart. You assured him you weren’t leaving, that you were simply having a hard time recently.

Beel pulled you fully into his lap before nuzzling his face into your neck, you left a soft kiss on the side of his head and could feel him smile against your skin. You were reveling in his warm embrace when you thought of something.

“Beel, what are you doing home? Class isn’t over yet.” He pulled back only enough to see your face before answering.

“I saw you leave RAD and got worried. You never leave early… I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You felt your heart swell, nothing else that happened today mattered anymore.

Beel adjusted himself to lay back against your headboard, holding you close to his chest and placing soft kisses on the top of your head. Right now he wanted to make sure you were okay, he’d deal with his punishment from Lucifer later, and tomorrow he would deal with the two demons who dared to upset you.

[letarasstuff]

Ranting

(A/N): This was requested by an anon, I hope you like it :)

Summary: In the middle of midterms, Spencer's daughter has enough and for the first time in her life, she rants to the team

Warnings: one swear word, school, school stress, mental breakdown, shitty friends, a bit of angst (but there is fluff to balance that out), weird grammatical sentences that are according to google correct

Wordcount: 2.3k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________ As a teenager, Spencer was pretty closed off. But this had several reasons, like being a child (or moreover a teen prodigy) at college and getting his first Ph.D, or that he hadn’t had a safety net of people he could have gone to. So as he became a father himself, he tried everything possible to assure his own daughter that her feelings and thoughts are always welcome and valid.

Unfortunately (Y/N) herself has developed the same habit starting high school and ever since Spencer can’t do anything to get her to open up to him. It’s not like they don’t have a good relationship, they have one of the strongest father-daughter bonds the BAU has ever witnessed. The girl simply has other ways to cope with her feelings and how to act them out in the safety of her own four walls. Her father learned to accept it, knowing that he can’t and won’t force her to talk to him.

So what follows now not only shocked Spencer. But also his work family.

It’s the time every teen in high school dreads: Midterms.

A word a teacher can mutter and a shiver goes through the rows of students in the classroom. Or at least it feels like it to (Y/N). She takes her school work very seriously. In her mind every single grade determines her future.

The rational part in her knows that the grades in her sophomore year doesn’t matter. That they are even long forgotten when she graduates. There is just so much pressure on her. But it isn’t coming from her father.

Spencer is pretty laid-back regarding school. He knows his daughter is trying her best and that it’s just the tenth grade and not the end of the world. School is not everything life has to offer, especially he has to know it as a scholar and profiler flying through the country in a jet back and forth.

It’s (Y/N)’s classmates, who pressure her to get good grades.

“We depend on you and your notes”, Tyler exclaims as he jogs next to her through the busy hallway. “Ty, I know. But I don’t have the time to get them done for all of you to understand by tomorrow. They are still a mess that only I know to see through. I still have to finish my history project and I go to my Dad’s work this afternoon, which means I won’t get much done and I still have to do the homework I got today before sorting my notes for the test in two days.”

At her locker, the boy still doesn’t let go of the subject. “Do you want to say that our grades don’t matter as much as yours? Because this would be a true selfish statement.” Maybe it is the lack of sleep, because she pulled three all-nighters in two weeks, or the fact that she is slowly getting fed up being treated like an unpaid private teacher, but (Y/N) can’t stop her sassy answer. “Tyler, you wouldn't even know how to tell apart your ass from your head if it weren’t for me and my help in biology. You wouldn’t even know how to spell selfish if I didn’t let you copy my answers in spelling tests in elementary school.”

Done with the day and her friend’s shit, she slams the door of her locker shut and leaves a flabbergasted boy behind. Half an hour later the teenager enters the bullpen with her visitor badge clipped to the pocket of her sweater.

On the way there she was fuming. The audacity of her friends. It’s not only Tyler, who tried to get her notes of a unit, she was the only one listening, even though the teacher said loud and clear that this will be important for midterms. A few other friends out of the group she usually hangs out with texted her the same question of when her notes will be given to them. Understandably, (Y/N) comes into the office in the worst mood anyone from the team ever saw, including her own father.

“Hey Sweetheart”, he tries to greet her with a hug. Even though both of them are not big on touch, they are extra affectionate with people they are close to.

To everybody’s surprise, the girl takes a step back, effectively avoiding his open arms. “Hey”, she grumbles out before taking a seat in the chair already waiting for her. Nobody is allowed to sit in this one, except for her. Not even Derek has ever put his butt on this one, knowing the sacredness of it.

Without sparing anyone another glance, (Y/N) gets the needed stuff for that history project out and continues working on it. The team resorts to throwing a questiongly look to Spencer, who shrugs his shoulders with a look of despair. So everyone resumes their work without even daring to say a word.

The general silence is occasionally broken by an unnerved sigh leaving the teenager’s lips. “Is the conference room occupied?” She asks, her voice clearly showing how annoyed she is. Her father shakes his head. “No, not that I know of. Do you need help with your school work?” This is obviously the wrong thing to say. “Do I look like a baby? I don’t need anyone to help with that, I have been going to school for ten years now, I think I can handle this project as perfectly fine as I did since day one. It’s just your keyboard typing that will be the reason for my first grey hairs if I don’t get out of here soon.”

Quickly (Y/N) gathers her stuff and storms off into the conference room. Immediately the team crowds her father’s desk. “What happened?” “Who hurt her?” “Go, talk to her!”

“Guys, I don’t know what’s going on. I’m at the same loss as all of you. The only thing I know is that (Y/N) is under pressure, because it’s midterms. But judging by the way she reacted, I don’t want to go near her. It’s safer to try to defuse a bomb than talk to her in that mood. Last time I saw something similar, her favorite show was declared finished, got a revival and then didn’t get one and nobody mentioned it again. She was so mad, I think it took three years of her life.” A silence of uncertainty spreads through the room.

“What about we give her some room until she calms down?” JJ suggests, being unsure herself how to deal with a teenage girl. But the rest agrees and goes back to filling out their paperwork.

This continues for about 20 minutes, till a loud bang and a frustrated scream is heard followed by “DON’T THEY WANT TO GET IT OR ARE THEY JUST STUPID?!” Alerted by that, seven people (yes, even Dave and Aaron leave their offices, while Penelope was already in the bullpen) storm into the round table room only to see a more than outraged (Y/N).

“Sweetheart”, Spencer speaks to her in the gentlest voice they ever heard from him and slowly moves towards his daughter, “What’s going on?”

Her response is delayed by several deep breaths she has to take in order to be able to talk without seething. “ALL OF MY SO CALLED FRIENDS ARE ASKING ME FOR MY NOTES, like do I look like a personal tutor? And when I tell them that I got a life, a life outside of school and grades, because otherwise I go completely bananas, just like all of you say, they get mad. Now they act like I’m the most selfish person in the whole world. I’m so done, can’t they understand that they are old enough to take care of their own stuff? I’m not responsible for them, their grades or anything regarding their lives. Otherwise I would be the mother of at least four toddlers and one baby and at the age of sixteen I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility. I know friends are there for eachother, and I really don’t mind helping them from time to time. But what they are doing is terror. Terror.

“Oh and don’t get me started on their tormention if I get something lower than an A-. Then they suddenly transform into geniuses, like they suddenly know everything possible. Of course, I’m the dumb one. I should have studied more.

“I am under an insane amount of pressure, because I know they rely on me, but enough is enough. I tell them that if anyone asks me for anything school related again and they act like I owe them an answer, I’ll cut off all ties to all of them. What am I, a roboter just there for their needs, without some of my own?”

After her long rant, (Y/N) takes a couple more breaths. It’s pretty much the only sound right now, because the team is stunned. None of them heard her talking, no ranting, like that. Not even her Spencer has seen her like that.

Realizing what she just said, the teenager fidgets nervously with her hands. “I’m, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, you know, blow up like that. I, I really don’t know where this came from.” Nervously she scratches the back of her head. It really wasn’t her intention to let it out like that. Her plan was just to come home tonight and deal in the confinement of her own four walls with all of her feelings. It’s easier to be honest to yourself when you are alone than having an audience watching you losing it.

Suddenly (Y/N) finds herself engulfed in a massive bear hug. “Oh, my sweet sweet summerchild. You needed to rant to us and I’m so happy you did. Even though your uhm, friends, sound like big douchebags, we can help you sort something out”, Penelope tells her while keeping her arms around the teen.

“Just like lil mama said, we are here for you, Baby Reid. Don’t ever be afraid to tell us something, may it even be as small as you having stubbed your toe.” Morgan ruffles her hair and gives her a reassuring smile.

Just like them everybody shows her their support, be it encouraging words or affectionately gestures. Rossi invites her to a calm and quiet dinner at his mansion, cooking class included. Hotch assures her that she will get through this rough patch, with or without these fake people. JJ suggests (Y/N) comes over to her home and she can participate in a family game night at their home.

When it’s Emily’s turn, she makes sure to get her message loud and clear by looking the teen in the eyes (not as deep as it sounds, because some people make an intense stare really uncomfortable): “If those kids give you a hard time again, tell me. I’ll pay them a visit in classic protective godmother fashion, because nobody traits MY godchild like this. Just give me their names and I’ll handle the rest.” Obviously she doesn’t say this aloud in front of everyone, else Hotch will have her head, knowing she goes through with her threats. Instead she whispers it into the teen’s ear. Still, it makes (Y/N) smile, having such a strong support net.

Sensing the family’s need for time of their own to talk about the whole situation, the team leaves the room. Spencer gestures to her to take a seat after moving two chairs opposite each other. He wants her not to feel trapped.

“Do you still want to talk about it? It doesn’t have to be now, we can do it tonight, tomorrow, in a week or in a month. Just, please don’t shut me out. I know it’s difficult to be a teenager, especially in times like these. But it won’t do you any good keeping all of this for yourself. Today you took it out through anger. How will it look next time?

I don’t want to pressure you into talking. We don’t need to. We can find other coping mechanisms. We can try and reduce your stress. Anything. But we both know that this is not the right way.” While speaking, he takes his daughter’s hand, making her look up to him.

(Y/N) nods. Her eyes fill with tears. “I just can’t keep going like this.” She whispers, feeling all the stress, pressure and the intensity of the last few weeks crashing down on her. Quickly Spencer gathers her in his arms, letting her cry in his embrace.

After calming down, she looks up to her father with bloodshot eyes. “We can talk tonight. But I need you to do me a favor.” “Anything”, he assures her, stroking a hand along her back. “I, uhm, I need a new phone. I may or may not have thrown mine against the wall after getting a text from Tyler.”

Spencer looks at the crooked cell laying on the floor, the screen cracked. “I think we can get that sorted”, he tells her with a smile and gives her a kiss on the forehead.

The two of them leave the office earlier, having many things to talk about and many problems to solve. But with the help of her family (Y/N) gets through this, a time where people unfortunately only like her for her smarts and not being herself.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos @jswessie187 @kneelforloki

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner

[treesandtheirberries]

Dad!Harry talks to his daughter about her questioning sexuality

A/N: might make this into a blurb series? so presh. if you have any concepts around this, send them my way. 

wc: 2,249

June was Harry and Y/N’s first baby, their biggest accomplishment before they were soon having another child. June was currently 13, the awkward age of Middle School, puberty, and overall questioning of identity. Y/N and Harry wanted this weird stage to be a smooth transition. They always encouraged her to express herself, with clothes, in hobbies, with their conversations. Although their first child, they both felt as though they managed to get through the difficulties of becoming a parent easily (thanks to the massive amount of parenting books, from birth to adolescence, that Harry kept buying while June was still in the womb). 

Yet, there is only so much you can prepare your child for, and surely you can’t be there to guide them through every difficulty. Harry and Y/N weren’t sure if June would question her sexuality as both of them weren’t straight, they didn’t know if the process was the same for heterosexuals. But they never skirted around the topic. If anything, they encouraged watching same-sex couples in movies and such, even having many friends who had families with someone of the same gender (or a partner that was non-binary). 

Harry hoped that this would be an excellent way to acclimate their children to the varying diversity of the world. Y/N grew up with racial diversity, but anything deviant from heterosexuality or cisgender was heavily frowned upon. They hoped that with their lack of omission of the varying aspects of identity their children would have the opportunity to understand themselves easier rather than constantly question their identity. 

They forgot to take into account that this was simply a stage in adolescence they had to endure though, as Eric Erickson put it: a fight between identity and role confusion. And June was currently right at the center of it.

June, even as a child, was usually calm and they rarely had problems with her being fussy like they do with the twins, Mazzy and Mick (named after the artists constantly playing on their home turntable). Thus, any changes were quickly noticed in her behavior. 

-------

Picking up the kids from daycare and June from school was on the top of Y/N’s list of things to do for the day. She adored seeing everyone’s faces after a day at work and seeing their warm smiles and tight hugs always brightened her mood. 

Today, things seemed different. 

June jumped into the front seat with a grunt, a frown, and even went as far as throwing her bag onto the floor of the car forcefully. This was generally out of character, except Y/N and Harry have noticed these bursts of anger more recently. 

“What’s eating at ‘ya bug?” Y/N calmly asked, wanting to maintain a balance of emotions although knowing June was perhaps all over the place as most teenagers are. 

June rubbed her hands on the top of her thighs and noticeably took a few deep breaths; a calming tactic her father taught her when she was younger to calm herself. She took a few more breaths until facing her mother to talk.��“Sage didn’t want to hang out this weekend,” she finishes, the frown being found on her face once again.

“Oh, is she busy? Thought you two were having a sleepover at home?” Y/N inquired. She knew Sage and her daughter were best friends since the beginning of sixth grade, and she hoped they would maintain their friendship although she knew the ups and downs adolescents faced it might not be possible.

“She said she’s going to the mall with Rye.”

“As in the bread?” Y/N chuckled, trying to lift the mood.

June rolled her eyes, another behavior that has risen in frequency. “No mom. A boy. That she likes.” She grumbled crossing her arms and sinking further into the seat.

“Oooooh I see what’s going on here, Sage is going on a date!” She rose her voice to a pitch of puppy love, which didn’t sit well with June. 

“We promised we wouldn’t date boys in Middle School. They’re all so stupid and ugly. I don’t get why she’s ditching me for him.” 

Y/N was a bit surprised by this. Harry and she have talked about the day they’d have to worry about June’s infatuation with others and they were dreading it. Hearing that June didn’t have interest in it now was a relief, but of course, this whole conversation was concerning. 

“I understand, not the nicest to make plans with someone when she already made some with you. But June-bug, you guys are teenagers. Of course, she’s going to take an opportunity to go on a date with a freaking boy!”

“Language momma!” Mick yelled, the three-year-olds’ well acquainted with naughty words.

“I guess. Just rude s’all.” June finished with another grumble. She wasn’t known for throwing huge fits, and her outbursts were usually this short. 

Still, Y/N knew that this would be something that would affect her for the rest of the week. Her daughter is calm but incredibly sensitive, and the two parents have learned how to work through her internal struggles. She decided to ask the usual question during June’s turmoils: “wanna talk to dad about it?” 

“Yes please.”

--------

Harry was finishing washing the plates as Y/N was getting the twins ready for bed. The small domestic moments like these reminded Harry of how lucky he was to have a family like his. He noticed June’s mood as soon as everyone entered the house, and once Y/N confirmed they would need to talk later, Harry was preparing himself to support his daughter through her problems. Y/N and he were definitely lucky with their firstborn being like June. Sometimes he’ll credit his efforts in teaching June meditation early, and depending on the day, Y/N agrees. 

As he dries the plates to put back in their cupboards, June walks in. 

“Hiya bug. C’mere give Poppa hug.”

June rolls her eyes (he’s having a hard time adjusting to these teenager habits) and walks closer to her father. Although she’s extremely close with both of her parents, there is a timeless connection she has with her father. “Not a child anymore dad. And please, do not call yourself poppa again. You’re not that old yet.” She mumbled in his chest, clearly needing the affection.

“Mom said you wanted to talk? Want her there?”

“Uhm. Maybe we could just talk in my room please.” 

“Of course, let me just put these plates all back” Harry smiled, only letting go of the hug once he felt June move away. A small trick he learned from his mother after she attacked him with countless parenting trips: never let go in a hug with your child, let them determine when the hug is over. It gives them more comfort and stability in their lives and although he saw this as minimal, he understood its significance.

“I’ll help.”

----

As they walked to June’s room, they caught Y/N walking back from the twins’ room. “Hey baby, twins are done for. I’ll be in the room. “ She pecks Harry quick on the lips and turns to June to wrap her in a hug. “Love you cutie,” she winks at June as she goes to her room.

“Love you momma” June smiles, happy that she has a supportive family like this one. 

“I’ll be there in a bit,” Harry smiles, his arm going back to June’s shoulders, giving it a squeeze. 

Once they get to her room, both take a seat on June’s bed. Her back is on the headboard while Harry sits at the edge facing her, cross-legged. Every once in a while June would request to speak to Harry, Y/N,  or both of her parents on the issues bothering her. Harry and Y/N were proud of having a daughter that felt comfortable enough to communicate with her parents, and they always were looking for new ways to enrich themselves with the issues kids have a different ages. 

“Speak to me June, what’s on your mind lady?” Harry starts, initiating the push. He can tell that she’s struggling to bring her thoughts to words.

“Did you....well. How did you ... realize you didn’t like ... uhm, just girls?” She hesitantly asked, too flustered to look at her father on such a strange topic. 

Oh, it’s happening, Harry thought. “Well, I was pretty young, I guess around your age, and I realized that I just wasn’t fully straight. It developed from there I guess, I talked to a few friends about it, spoke to your grandma, and eventually met a boy I really liked. It was really scary, I’m not going to lie, figuring out my feelings at that point. After that, it wasn’t a big deal and everyone in the family understood. I just knew something like gender wasn’t a big deal to me, and if I liked someone I liked them. But it’s different for everyone. Your mom can tell you how she found out she’s bi.”

June was soaking in the information her father gave her. She knew both of her parents weren’t straight, but hearing how they found it out was something entirely different. It wasn’t that she was foreign to the concept, but in personal terms, it was utterly confusing. 

She finally looked to her father, giving him a small smile at the personal information he shared. They were a very open family, but something about this felt even more personal. “But, did you ever think you were faking it?” 

“Not really, but you already know how pretentious your father is,” he chuckled, lighting the mood. “Your mother, as she’ll tell you, had a completely different experience. Said she struggled for years thinking she was either faking it or actually completely gay! She once told me that she just couldn’t disclose it with anyone, and that led her to a lot of contemplation. But if you’re feeling this way too, I need you to know your mother and I are here to support you in any way we can.”

“Dad,” June scrunched her eyes looking down at her crossed legs. “I think I might like girls. Or at least, I think. After Sage told me she’d ditched me I just realized I don’t like her just as a friend.” 

At this moment, tears began to form in her eyes from all the confusion. Instantly Harry brought her into aa encompassing bear hug, keeping her safe in his chest. It hurt him to see her going through this dilemma, the inter-workings of adolescents were never fun. 

“It’s just,” June suddenly choked on a sob, grasping her dad’s hoodie. Harry began to rub her back for support. “I like her I think. Like really like her dad. I don’t want her to date a boy, I want to date her. But she won’t like me and...I don’t know! Why did this have to happen to me!” She continued, clearly soaking his hoodie.

“Oh baby, please don’t ever think this is a bad thing. Sexuality is a spectrum, many of our friends are somewhere on it, and you already know Elizabeth and Mary are married. This is a beautiful thing to discover baby. But yes, I won’t lie to you, it’s going to be hard. There may be times you like someone who doesn’t like girls but bug, that’s simply life.”

“What if I am dad. I don’t know if I like boys at all.”

“Then you are. As simple as that. You can label how you feel or not, it’s all about what feels most comfortable to you. As you know, your mother and I will be here to support you in any way we can. If you like girls, so be it, you’re still our daughter and you know that. If you like boys, which I mean yuck,” he imitated a gagging noise, rising a laugh out of June “then okay. Both or everyone? It’s all okay bub. I do want you to think about it, It might take some time to accept it but we’re accepting you any way you are. You’re so beautiful and strong, and your sexuality doesn’t diminish that in any way.” He made sure to hug her tightly as he said this, expressing his full support. 

“Dad, thank you.” June exhaled, releasing herself to wipe her tears. 

“Of course, June. I’m so happy you were able to tell me this, I know it must’ve been hard.”

After a deep breath, June looked calmer after her small crisis. “I knew you guys would be okay with anything but it’s just, much harder than I expected to really like your friend who doesn’t like you.”

“It’s hard, so so hard. Ask your mum, seriously I swear she told me she also liked one of her friends at your age. Universal gay experience perhaps?” Harry pondered. 

June gave a small laugh to that. “Yeah, I’ll ask. I don’t want her to think I left her out of this, it’s just that I’ve heard about your sexuality in the media more.”

“Pesky things, but I understand. It was so hard for your mom in comparison to me. Do you want me to let her know first, is it okay that I let her know you might be questioning?” He gave her daughter a sincere inquisitive look, valuing consent over everything. 

“Yeah, of course. Probably talk to her tomorrow after we drop the twins off. I really appreciate it, dad.”

“No problem bug. Let’s get you tucked away.” 

__________ part 2

OH MY GOD this is my first I HOPE YOU LIKE. please any feedback would be so sexy. 

[kirschteinsj]

Pinky Promises

Nanami x fem! reader

Warnings: nothing too much! maybe language but overall just a bunch of fluff and lovey dovey stuff 

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: Domestic Nanami and reader, just thinking about how much they love each other. sappy and cute stuff.

A/N: Hi! ^_^ Second time posting, I’ve had this one shot saved for a bit now! finally posting it lolz. I've noticed a lot of people have written domestic Nanami pics or drawn art, very glad society as a whole has this perception of him. it truly heals the soul I think. anyway, I hope u like this and sorry if there’s any grammar errors I wasnt able to catch U_U im thinking of doing a hc post next.... unsure hm, we’ll see ^_^!!

“I’m hooooome.” He says loudly as he steps through the apartment door, setting his briefcase down and taking off his beige coat. Putting down the grand kitchen knife she was using to chop up spinach, she rushed to the door with a smile and engulfed the tall blonde into a tight hug, saying hello. She took a deep breath, inhaling the soft scent of his cologne, the smell of something sour and musty soon taking over. Her face scrunched up and she let out a giggle.

“Oh god, Nanami, you stink, what did you go against today?”

“Nothing too bad. Just a grade 3,” He sighed “A smelly grade 3.” He sounded disappointed, probably because he knew he stunk too. Though the smell was horrendous, she still remained in his arms and he still held on just as tight.

“Are you tired? I was thinking of making dinner with you tonight but if you’re too tired I can-”

“No no. I’m fine. Just let me wash up and I’ll help out.”

“You sure?” She asked looking up towards him, questioning once more to reassure. He looked down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

“I’m sure, dear.”

While he showers upstairs, she gets back to readying the ingredients so they could begin cooking their masterpiece as soon as possible. Tonight she had chosen chicken alfredo with a tossed salad; One could say it was her favourite, but saying that would imply that she would eat it when cooked and served by whomever. But to her, she would only eat it when it was him who had made it for her.

Y/n adored him. He adored her. To her, he was her light. She could simply not imagine life without him, not after he had come in and changed her in such a way. She never in a million years would have thought to be so in love with someone. To have known someone who cared enough to hear all about her day or listen to all her tangents, whether they made sense or not. Who listened to her talk forever about anything just so he could see the faint glow of passion in her eyes. Someone who remembered the small details in regards to the things she loved and the things she despised; Like how she hated the feeling of peanut butter on her fingers and how she absolutely admired the scent of fresh pages in a new book. Sometimes, she felt undeserving of him.

He admired her like no other. Never did he believe he’d be capable of opening up to anyone in such a way, at least not until she walked into his life. He could write a million lists, all full of everything he loved about her. The way she smiled cheekily at him after a witty remark, how she'd give every hug as if it was the last, the way she was oh so patient with him. It took him time to become vulnerable in the slightest, he just didn’t know how to do so without burdening her. She knew his job was hard, he’d told her. But rather than running away like he expected, she stayed with him right by his side. She refused to leave him over that. If anything, it made her want to stay more since she felt the need to be there for him. It felt like a punch to the gut but a good one. “So, is this love?” He had asked himself then. Nanami had someone who brought out the much more joyful side to him. At the end of the day, he knew he’d walk through the front door only to see her, arms wide open and with a big smile offering a cozy hug. She was his home. Sometimes, he felt undeserving of her.

Putting the final piece of broccoli into the container, she tidies any clutter and went back to their shared bedroom. Sinking into the bed and falling on it with a plush thump, she lets out a deep sigh mixed with some sort of a groan. She herself was exhausted from work too to say the least. She didn’t deal with curses or anything like that, but she did teach a class of 9 year olds which one could consider just as frustrating. Yawning, she checks her phone to read the time: 6:15 PM. Nanami hadn’t been in the shower for too long, a small nap wouldn’t hurt. Quickly, she settled for a little 30 minute nap. That way, she could get up soon enough to help him out in the kitchen and not abandon him to do everything on his own. She turns her phone off and slowly, her eyes shut.

…

Y/n slowly opens her eyes and notices a grey throw blanket placed on her, something that she doesn’t recall going to bed with earlier. “Must’ve been Nanami.” Grabbing her phone, she turns the screen on, wincing at the incredible blue light piercing into her skull. “Fuck.” she mumbles. Once her eyes adjust, she glances back at the screen for the time: 7:30.

“FUCK,” she says, voice croaking “I overslept.” With the speed of light, she leaves bed and runs down the hall to the bathroom to freshen up. She soon makes her way over to the kitchen silently, slightly ashamed and guilty. Y/n mumbles a whine with a frown, “He’s probably done making things now. I could have helped.”

The kitchen is filled with the delicate scents of sauces, cheese and herbs. She watches him from the door frame, admiring her boyfriend. He stood in front of the stove mixing at the sauce for the alfredo, which scent alone made her mouth water. Nanami seems to be in his own world, as he stands humming to himself softly, stirring the pot of sauce and adding in the broccoli and spinach, not seeming to notice y/n. With a final stir, he carefully sets the lid and turns to rinse his hands. Her gaze sits upon his figure, how his grey oversized shirt slightly clings to his shoulders and loosens as it goes down his body. Looking down, she noticed the bright red christmas pyjamas he had on, the ones with adorable little reindeers all over them. Grinning, she remembers how she had bought those for him. She purchased a matching set for the two of them and insisted on wearing them all day on Christmas last year. Nanami had responded to the idea with a stern “No” which left y/n in shambles. She didn’t expect him to agree, but hey, a girl can dream. However, on Christmas day, lo and behold, she had woken up to find Nanami sitting on the couch, watching the news with his reindeer PJs on. Immediately, she had attacked him with hugs and kisses and all Nanami did was sit there and accept them, secretly loving it the whole time.

A deep voice throws her out of her thoughts. “You know, it’s rude to stare, right?”

Y/n chuckles quietly and makes her way over, wrapping her arms around him from behind, snuggling into his back.

“I like to stare at you, you’re cute,” she breathes in his scent once again, “ah, you smell so much better now. Like the nami I know.”

“I am not cute. I am a grown man.”

“C’mon, you can’t possibly be saying that right now. Not while you’re wearing these pants.” She coos, gently patting his butt. He goes silent, refusing to rebuttal knowing that he’s lost. He leans against the counter, his front facing her. Though he didn’t say anything, y/n sees this as an open invite to his arms. The rope of his arms finds her waist this time, her arms in an embrace around his neck.

“Whatever, tell me, how was your day, hm?” He posed, changing the subject.

“Same old, yenno. The kids and I had a discussion today about drugs and safety. It was cute, hearing them rat out their neighbours for smoking cigs and talk about how yucky they thought alcohol is. It was… sweet. How was work for you, hon?”

“Shit.” He retorts, closing his eyes, “Work is shit.”

“Oh come ON, I’m sure it’s not always that bad, right? Say, how’s your friend doing, you know, the one who kinda looks like one of my makeup brushes! Isn’t he good company?”

“Yeah, if good company means having to deal with a nuisance to society on a daily basis then by all means, yes, Gojo is wonderful company.” He joked, loosening his grip on her and making his way over to the stove to check on his sauce. She follows, opening the first drawer and pulling out a silver spoon, “You’re so mean sometimes. I think he’s a great guy to be around! I met him once, such a flirt.”

He teases calmly, “If you love him so much, why don’t you get with him?”

Taking her spoon, she lowers it into the pot and brings it back up to her face, blowing on it carefully before she puts it to her lips to taste. “Hmm, I would. But I don’t think he’s as big as you. I’ll have to pass.” She smirked, putting the spoon into her mouth as he watched and sighed in disappointment.

He glares,“God, you’re something else.”

“I’m just kidding, babe.” Bringing her spoon down for another taste. He swats at her hand and she retreats it with a whine. “Don’t do that. You’ve tried it already, and will again when we get to eat.” He scolded tenderly, “Plus, you shouldn’t be given these privileges anyway. It’s not like you helped out or anything.” He smiled, teasing her.

“Nanamiiii, I’m sorry,” she whines, half laughing, “I promise, I was going to help! I just got a little bit sleepy and sort of lost track of time…” He turned over to her and lifted her face with a finger under her chin. Laughing, he delicately caresses her cheek, tapping it admirably with a curled finger. The blonde chuckles and looks her in the eyes, “I’m just joking with you, love. I know you’ve been tired lately, I can tell. Why haven’t you been resting?”

Her smile falls and she sighs. Y/n wrapped her arms around his waist and brought him into her, hiding her face into his chest. It was true, she was exhausted but she didn’t deem it to be anything so serious. Work was just heavy this past week from having to grade her students’ work in time for report cards. All she wanted was the best for her kids and was finding ways to get the kids out of their comfort zones enough to do well in class. That reminded her, Nanami also mentioned having a student of his own.

She takes her face out of his chest and glances upwards. “It’s just this week of work, I promise I’ll be back to normal soon. I’ve just been busy with lesson plans and activities, yenno. Anyway, speaking of students, how’s the one you’ve been assigned to?” She posed in a soft tone. Half smiling, he turned around to add the strained pasta to the sauce, scattering it into the pot.

“He’s special. Quite lively. And cheerful. He reminds me of you sometimes,” his voice strains as he stretches to grab the bowl of cooked chicken to finally add into the pot, finishing the meal, “He’s got potential.” Y/n beamed with happiness. Nanami really seemed to like this kid and if he thought you had potential, then it sure as hell meant you had it.

She lets out a squeal, “EEEEEEK!!! That sounds amazing! I’m so happy for you!” Nanami suppressed a laugh and rolled his eyes, “It’s not that-”

“This calls for a drink, don’t you think?” She babbled with excitement, “We should have some wine! Right?”

Grabbing her wrist as she skipped her way over to the bottle, he reminded her, “You have school tomorrow. You always end up having more than needed and struggle to wake up in the morning.” Y/n frowned at his words, to which he noticed and tried to fix, “Tomorrow’s Friday, you can drink plenty tomorrow, hm? I’ll drink with you.”

“Ugh, fine. You’re right. But you have to promise.”

“I promise you ca-”

“No! You have to pinky-promise.” She demanded, pouting as he stuck out her pinky finger.

His heart skips a beat. Was she always this cute? Her angelic eyes stare into his tired ones. Bottom lip poking out, awaiting Nanami’s pinky to interlock with her own. He knew she took pinky-promises very seriously despite her grown age. It was among one of the many petty details that he cherished. Something about this pinky-promise was enough for her to ensure trust onto someone, it made him laugh. Her naivety is what made her so kind hearted, what allowed her to see the best in people. He felt that this naivety is why they’re together to begin with. He didn’t ever think she’d give him a chance. He reminisced of their first few encounters. The way she did her hair back then, the way she dressed, her shy smile and how she’d look at the floor whenever she’d blush. Maybe it was her timid nature that made him fall head over heels for her. Or maybe it was her generosity. Perhaps her beauty. He was unable to simply confine the reasoning for his infatuation with just a few traits. She grew overtime, more comfortable and less shy, she was more confident around him but he knew he could still make her blush so badly that she’d have to hide her face from him. He enjoyed their banter, her company. He felt it was luck. Or maybe it was fate. Who knows. He didn’t want to think so much about it. He wanted to live in the moment, adore her in this present time. In that instance, he felt the strong urge to kiss her. And so he did.

The kiss was short and sweet, yet full of an unfathomable amount of love. It took her aback, she didn’t quite see it coming. She too stood in the present moment, then and there, cherishing the man she loved.

His lips leave hers and he extends the smallest finger on his hand, declaring, “I pinky-promise.” And a ginormous grin washes over her face. In a whisper, she squeals and scoops her arms around his torso, resting her head onto his chest. They stay like this for a while, not too long really, but to them it felt like an eternity being in each other’s affectionate embrace. He goes to speak and she feels the vibrating boom of his voice make his way up from his chest.

“I love you.”

She sighs, “I love you too.”

Turning her head, y/n smoothly gets on her tip toes and clasps her arms around his neck, giving it a tender kiss and attempting to make a trail leading up to his sharp jaw. Catching onto her tactics he laughs, putting his big hand against her face and pushing her back.

“Seriously?” He chuckles, “You couldn’t wait till after dinner? Come on, take out the plates.”

“Wait for what? I was just kissing you! You’re so dramatic, Nami.” She lies, playing innocent. She knew damn well what she was trying to do. She wasn’t going to admit to it though. Taking out the plates and utensils, she readied the table.

…

After dinner and meaningless conversation, the two lovers tidied and headed towards their room. “Do yo wana wah a mohee tomowwow nie?” Y/n proposed from the bathroom as she brushed her teeth. He perks his head up, confused, “Do I want to what?” She spat into the sink and rinsed her mouth, repeating her question.

“I said, do you wanna watch a movie tomorrow night? Like at home? There’s this documentary I saw on Netflix, it looks really good! It’s crime related.”

“That sounds fine with me. Though, that’s only possible if you don’t end up drinking too much. I always have to get you to sleep early when you drink.” He states nonchalantly, nose poked into a thick book. She rolls her eyes and smiles, “I promise I won’t drink all that much.” Shifting his book to the opposing hand, Nanami silently takes his pinky finger and holds it out to y/n. She snickers and reciprocates.

“You’ve now pinky-promised. Don’t break it, y/n.”

“I never do.”

The nightstand lamp illuminates the room with a soft yellow glow. Shadows of objects on the nightstand hang on the walls. Laying in bed on her phone, y/n turns over to Nanami, who was still reading his book. “Nami, come lay next to me, I wanna cuddle. Please?” Her voice faint. He looks down at her and puts his book away immediately. He could use a cuddle too. Bringing himself down, he lays on his back, y/n closing the gap between the two. Their legs intertwine, her arm and head resting on his chest while one of his hands rested on her bum, the other dotingly playing with her hair. Neither of them spoke a word for a while. Until y/n broke the silence.

“So, were there no other pairs of pants you had left to wear or-”

“Please, be quiet.”

[duggardata]

Consulted My Own Computer Expert

Lol, not really.  But I did speak to someone I know personally who works in the technology field, specializing in networks.  He’s a network engineer, and works remotely on computers and servers all over the world.  Here’s what he said—

(Disclaimer:  There’s a decent chance that I might’ve misunderstood some of this stuff, though I tried my best to have him explain it in very simple terms.  If anything below is patently false, I’m certain it’s my mistake, not his.)

After the jump.

Could The Router Have Valuable Evidence?

This was my first question, since it seems that the Defense is making a big deal over the Government’s failure to analyze the router.  My network guy said—

There probably isn’t anything valuable on it, especially after 6 Months.  He says that the vast majority of consumer–grade routers—and probably all routers that are provided by ISPs, as part of Internet service—don’t store data, at all.  (Well, actually, no longer than needed to route the traffic.  So, a matter of seconds.)

Even if Josh purchased a relatively sophisticated, high–end router, my network guy says that even those routers have very limited storage space, and it’s very unlikely that logs from May 2019 would’ve been accessible that November.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, my network guys claims that even if the router was sophisticated and the records weren’t overwritten, the logs wouldn’t be useful in detecting remote access.  According to my guy, the logs wouldn’t show access by the remote device, only by the HP, since the remote device is not connecting to the router directly.  The logs would only show that the HP is connecting to the Internet at the relevant times; it wouldn’t show what caused or prompted that connection.  There’d by no evidence of the remote device, at all.

The Challenges of Remote Access

My network guy thinks remote access is very unlikely.  He explained to me all the challenges the Remote Accessor would have to overcome—

Obstacle #1:  Powering Up The Computer 

It’s not easy to turn on a computer remotely—but obviously, you can’t access and use a computer if it isn’t turned on.  My network guy says that, in order to remotely access the computer, you’ll need one of the following situations—

The computer is already on—e.g., left on by the prior user.

Someone assisted the Remote Accessor by physically pushing the ‘on’ button, when needed.

The computer is specifically set–up to ‘listen’ for a power up command even when it’s ‘off.’  (This requires some expertise, but not that much.  It also might not be possible on a basic machine like an HP All–In–One.  It isn’t something that every computer is set–up to even do.)

When asked, my network guy agreed that, theoretically, someone could simply try to ‘get lucky’ and catch the computer in an ‘on’ state.  They’d have to make a lot of attempts at access, and would only succeed when and if the computer happened to be left in an ‘on’ state.  (This would involve some risk, though, since there’s a decent chance that if the computer is ‘on,’ it’s being used.  And if so, the computer would notify the non–remote user of a simultaneous, attempted remote access.)

Obstacle #2:  Booting Up Linux

My network guy thinks this is definitely the biggest hurdle.  He tends to agree with the Prosecution expert in that it’s probably not possible to remotely boot up Linux.  (You’d have to be physically present.)  He says the critical piece of evidence would be the Master Boot Record (MBR).  The MBR tells the computer what operating system (OS) to load, as soon as it turns on.  On computers with multiple OSes—like the HP w/ Window and Linux, at issue in our case—the MBR automatically defaults to one of the OSes.

Now, if the HP’s MBR had Linux as its default partition, this isn’t an issue.  A remote user could easily boot up the Linux side—so long as the computer is  ‘on,’ of course.  But, if the Windows is the default—which seems much more likely, here, since why would the non–work, possibly secret, installed–to–get–around–Covenant–Eyes OS be the default—then things get really, really hard.  According to my network guy, booting up the non–default OS would happen only if one of the following occurs—

A physically–present user physically touches certain keystrokes—thus, telling the computer to boot up the other OS.  (Quite easy, but requires the user to be physically present.)

Potentially, there’s a way to prompt the computer to boot the other OS remotely.  But, per my network guy, this is not at all simple to do.  (And he’s of the opinion that it’s probably not possible on an HP All–In–One, unless it’s been rebuilt.)  Basically, to do this, you’d need a computer that is specifically built to have this capability.  It’s not something you’d be able to set–up after–the–fact, really, since it requires another whole, smaller computer to be attached to the remote–accessed computer’s motherboard.  It absolutely isn’t something you could enable simply by plugging in an after–market piece of hardware; you’d have to actually, physically modify the ‘guts’ of the computer.  Also, per my guy, this is really not something a consumer–grade machine is capable of doing...  This type of hardware is pretty much only seen on huge servers.  (The type that slide into racks at massive data centers, and sound “like jet engine” when they turn on, my guy explains.)  Basically, this is super, super unlikely.  My network guy says:  “No way.”

Sidenote:  I asked my network guy if it’s even possible to set Linux as default on the MBR of an HP All–In–One.  He says it definitely is; the real question is whether that makes any sense...  If Linux is the default, remote access would be possible, yes.  If it’s not, it’s probably not possible.

Obstacle #3:  The Possibility of Detection

Finally, my guy noted one more critical thing...

Basically, the Defense is suggesting that a remote user just happened to use the computer to access CSAM repeatedly while Josh was at the car lot.  My network guy finds this very suspicious because, according to him, if a non–remote user tried to use the computer while Remote User was connected, it (the computer) would notify them.  So, basically, the Defense is asking as to believe not just that Josh is the unluckiest guy ever, and just happened to be working while someone was remotely accessing CSAM on his computer, but also that, while working all those times, Josh never tried to log into his work computer while the Remote Accessor was connected.

TL;DR  Remote access is unlikely, and it’s really, really, really unlikely if Linux isn’t the default OS.  We need to know:  Was Linux the default OS? 

[dazaiscrimes]

it’s all shits and giggles until it gets serious

I wrote this for all Taurus’ out there but especially @megumifushi 

warnings: tooth-rooting fluff, crack, maybe a little ooc of Megumi but I really wanted this to be about him

wc: 1.1k

You would describe your relationship with Megumi to others who asked as an easy-going friendship. Hell, probably the most stable friendship you have ever had. You might even laugh and call it destiny. Megumi and his older sister, Tsumiki, moved into your complex when you were six and he has been a constant in your life ever since. Your mom would always invite them over for dinner, worrying over their lack of a constant adult figure in their lives. Dinners would turn into play dates, then into sleepovers, then into long weekend trips out of town with the family. You had always been closer to Megumi due to the age difference and soon you were best friends. You attended the same grade school and even followed him into middle school.

You were a real two peas in a pod.

Things started to change when you both got to high school, him deciding to go to what he called a religious private school (you would later find out it was Jujutsu High and what he was doing there) and you a school across town. But you never truly lost touch. Sure, it was harder to spend time together consistently, but he made sure that he would come by your family home at least every month to have dinner with you and your family. After Tsumiki was cursed, he broke down and told you everything, about curses, about the Zen’in family, about his technique. You took it all in stride, not once interrupting him and giving him the support he needed.  He knew he could come to you after particularly rough battles, and you would patch him up to the best of your ability. You decided to go to university nearby and continued to be the support he would rely on. A few years later, he attends your graduation with your family, buys you a huge bouquet of red roses, embarrasses you in front of all your friends (you even became friends with the whole Jujutsu High crew), and treats you to dinner afterwards.

You find yourself giggling hard as he carries you home, struggling to find a cab at such a later hour, on graduation day no less. Megumi tries his best, carrying your bridal style as you were too stubborn to take off the (decidedly bad decision) 6-inch heels.

“Megumiiiii, I wanna hang out! I beat I can convince Yuji and Maki to arm wrestle again!” you giggled, hot breath tickling his ear. He slight shivers at your how close your mouth is, and you pull away thinking he was uncomfortable with the situation.

“It is 3am, Y/N. We all know Yuji is a baby and he is already in bed. Another time, I promise,” he replies tiredly. The pout you make at his statement honestly gives his heart a little *dabump*. Stop these thoughts immediately, he tries to calm himself.

Eventually, you make it back to your apartment and he suplex’s you onto the bed with a big sigh. “And his name is John Cena, *cue meme music*” you struggle through the laughter. He simply rolls his eyes at you and plops next to you. A few quiet minutes pass and you think he must have passed out until he asks you a question out of the blue.

“You’re a Taurus, right?” he questions you timidly.

You lazily turn your whole body around, facing him. “Mhmm, why?”

“Nothing,” You watch him turn his face away quickly, but not before you notice the faint blush dusting his cheeks.

Throughout your time knowing Megumi, he had always asked some strange questions like this. Your favorite flowers, movies, anime, you name it. He would always surprise you with his knowledge about you, but honestly, you kept the same tabs on him as well. You knew he hated red bell peppers and sweet side dishes, that he tamed his demon dogs at age 6, and that his favorite book genre was nonfiction.  If you were to think deeper about it, you would know you loved him. But you pushed those feelings aside, knowing that something between you could never happen. He just was not into you the same way, only seeing you as his “good friend,” which is how he introduced you to all his friends.

You decide to let the question pass, not really thinking that it was out of the ordinary. Another 10 minutes passed by when you feel the bed shift and suddenly, you’re staring into the deep ocean color of his eyes. You can feel his body heat rolling off him in waves, giving you a comfort about also, a tug of the heart. He was untouchable to you. The words that come out of his mouth are not at all what you were expecting.

“Did you know that Taurus and Capricorn’s are highly compatible?” He spits out quickly. “Apparently, they are always on the same wavelength, and find it very easy to understand each other. You know, I really understand you. You are like a rock, uh, solid, unmovable. You are always there for me, loyal. Look, what I am trying to say, is that I think we would be compatible??”

You are stunned by this sudden outburst. Never, and you mean never, has he said so many words so quickly with uncertainty. For all the years you’ve known him, he has been a constant, stoic man, never letting his emotions go unchecked. You feel your jaw drop open, mouth just opening and closing, trying to form a sentence but failing miserably. You feel his stare and he starts to babble more.

“Nobara gave me a crash course on zodiac compatibility and honestly, I didn’t believe in this stuff before but after learning how similar it sounded…” his sentence was suddenly cut off by your lips. His lips were warm, soft, and tasted slightly of ginger. As soon as he processes what was happening, he responds immediately. He gently grabs your face and pulls in closer. His tongue swipes across your lower lip, asking for permission. You gladly accept him further and you feel like bliss.

Eventually, you both must come up for air and end up staring into each other’s eyes for a few moments. You never thought in your wildest dreams that this would be a possibly, that he would reject you all along. But what if he had those same thoughts? Is that why he has waited so long to tell you? His eyes conveyed all the emotion he was not able to say out loud.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

It had been years since that moment, and it changed everything. You glance down at the wedding band on your finger for a second, reminiscing about the old times. You feel Megumi come up behind you, wrapping his arms securely around your waist.

“What are you thinking about, my love?”

“That time Nobara tricked you into believing zodiac compatibility,” you hear him snort behind you. “I’m glad it worked.”

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

“By the way, how did she convince of this?” You raise your eyebrows at him, daring him to tell a lie.

“She snuck a whole pamphlet into my book and wouldn’t leave me alone until I read it. She even recruited Yuji and Gojo to pester me about it. I hate dealing with people, so I finally gave in,” he sighs. “I hate them, but also, thanks I guess.”

[lizbotw]

it’s only sharing a disgustingly sweet milkshake at the local college town diner after both of your evening classes that suna graciously provides the answers to the math homework.

the spongy pencil eraser is easy for you to sink your teeth into as you puzzle over his handwriting. “you know,” you mumble around the nib, trying to figure out if that’s a 5 or a 6, “i never know why you do this to me every week.” this time the drink with two plastic straws floating in an unhealthy heaping of whip cream is a syrupy strawberry flavor.

rintarou tips forward to sip at one of them and in your peripheral, chunky pink-coated fruit pieces travel up the clear tube and disappear between his lips. he releases the straw with an annoying ah that makes you frown, even if you weren’t concentrating in the first place. “aw, don’t tell me you don’t like hanging out with me.” he feigns hurt.

a well placed sip of your own allows you to avoid having to answer that—you have a personal rule of never being sappy in the presence of calculus. if you didn’t like him, suna knows you wouldn’t be hanging out with him—there are just some things you can’t do, even if it’s for the sake of your grade. none of this has to be said out loud of course, but he decides to be annoying and ask anyway.

actually—well... maybe hanging out is... not exactly how this appears to bystanders.

sharing a drink like this, you two probably look more like a couple on a (terribly cheap) afternoon date, rather than two broke college students that split meals to save money and believe that sharing answers for homework isn’t cheating, it’s collaboration.

ha, as if it would ever be different—things like the former never come true. maybe in movies, but that’s about where the line is drawn.

as if he knows what you’re thinking, suna raises an eyebrow at you over the glass, a smile playing on his lips—the same stupid look he always gives you. it feels particularly worse this evening.

it’s hard to avoid eye contact with him mere inches away, but you manage when a car painted a very interesting shade of red rumbles past the fingerprint covered window. you’re grateful for the distraction.

the subject changes when you realize suna has terrible taste when it comes to ordering milkshakes. “what flavor is this?” you spit out the word as though the very concept of calling this a real flavor is more disgusting than the drink itself, smacking your lips and screwing up your face at the excessively saccharine, artificial strawberry aftertaste.

this is no ordinary strawberry milkshake. no, this is a so-bad-only-suna-rintarou-would-order-something-this-horrible-(and-not-necessarily-on-purpose-either) strawberry milkshake.

“valentine’s valor,” he states matter-of-factly like those words mean anything to you. you stare at him until he elaborates. “their valentine’s special,” he clarifies and is gifted with a sarcastic thumbs-up from you in thanks—it is pointedly ignored and suna slings an arm over back of his seat. “dunno the exact flavor though. forgot.”

it tastes like the embodiment of pink, you decide. valentine’s valor. what a stupid name. there are a million and one better words that start with v... you can name at least five with a little thinking. you should ask them to hire you as part of their marketing team, you decide.

maybe it’s fitting title though. you certainly need valor to even think about taking another sip of that... concoction—which you do because you are obsessed with getting your money’s worth.

“valentine’s day was half a week ago?” your mental calendar helpfully supplies.

the clatter of pans in the back kitchen somehow mingles charmingly with the way rintarou throws his head back to laugh—a scene straight out of a movie really. you decide you hate him in the moment. “right you are. want a prize?” ugh. you stick your tongue out at his tone.

great. as if to add insult to injury, of course you’re sharing an out-of-date love holiday special with suna of all people. valentine’s was four days ago and this is where you are on a thursday night. the sticky upholstery of the booth seat, ripped and fraying at the corners, squeaks and groans and attaches itself to the fabric of your jeans as you shift around, suddenly hot. what a strange situation to be in, you think. this has to be a metaphor for life—then again, you’d been thinking this whole... thing has been a metaphor anyway.

yup, ever since suna sat next to you in a calculus II lecture all those fated months ago and took pity on how much you fucking sucked at math, up until the present where he takes slightly less pity on you but does enjoy emptying your dorm mini-fridge and making you pay for his milkshakes—all of it. this entire thing with him. one big stupid metaphor.

the specifics of how you came to have a routine like this are certainly murky, but two things are for certain—one, your calculus grade is certainly a lot better than it would have been otherwise, and two, you have one friend more than you did at the start of the school year. (that last one is kind of a big deal, you think. the college social scene is brutal. the word friend has started to become more disappointing than exhilarating lately though.)

rin reaches to your left to pick at the fries you’d ordered as a side—you’ve learned not to try and stop him. “also,” he adds, mouth full, “you’re totally getting me a new pencil after this.” yes, true, the pencil you’re currently leaving frustrated teeth marks all over isn’t yours. very easy to forget in the moment. you’ve probably destroyed 15 of his pencils by now for the 15 weeks of the last semester—only 7 so far for the current one. you do the mental math.

instead of drawing in the sharp lines of the differential equation that should be going in the question box, you lightly trace in the curves of a 2 and then another one next to it in the corner of the worksheet, graphite underlining them both in one swoop. the horribly thin paper of the school library’s printer is scratchy as you write but soon you flip the pencil over and under your fingers to tap the eraser (that has seen better days) just below what you wrote. “this is pencil number 22.”

suna leans over to look at the number as if you hadn’t just told him what it said. what an idiot. “glad you’re keeping count.” he settles back into his seat. “when can i expect my reimbursement?”

“you’re funny,” you say, without a hint of humor in your voice. the pretty 22 you had written now has flower petals growing off of the sides as you get distracted doodling along the edges of your work. it’s quiet for a moment as he watches you, or maybe as he takes the chance while you’re distracted to shove more french fries down his throat—either option is plausible and you don’t lift your eyes to check.

something occurs to you.

“rin.” you take an extended pause in between the words as you continue drawing, just to annoy him. you don’t continue speaking until he grumbles in acknowledgment (you try to hide your smile). “do you ever doodle in your notebooks?” now that you thought about it, suna was surprisingly pretty straight-laced when it came to class—you couldn’t ever recall him ever slacking off to the degree that meant his pages were filled with hearts and stars and flowers and suns and atomically inaccurate animals and tiny people in different colored ink. your work was always certainly the more vibrant out of the two (perhaps that could explain your grades and how you understand like... nothing in your lectures, but you decide correlation does not equal causation).

“waste of time,” he says around another mouthful of fries, another one already halfway there to his mouth.

suna is also surprisingly negative at times—but the blue book flipped open to his homework says maybe he’s just a liar though. you squint at it.

“it’s still pretty early but we probably should get out of here soon,” suna says, pulling his phone out from his pocket to check the time and leaning his elbows on the table. “i’ll walk you back. your roomie doesn’t leave the gym until 9—before you ask, yes i’ve been keeping track. it’s not stalking if it’s for my own sake.”—rin is, of course, referring to the long standing rivalry between him and your (very nice, might you add) roommate you don’t really understand but which has cumulated in him deciding he would avoid them as much as humanly possible purely out of spite. (“the only person i like in dorm 302 is you,” he’d told you one time and the throwaway sentence maybe made your heart flutter more than it probably should’ve.)

the bell above the front door jingles behind you as another patron enters. rin glances up at the sound and then returns to his phone with a bored bat of his eyes, probably scrolling through twitter or replying to texts, and picking at his teeth with a toothpick (where did he even get that?).

you try to get back to work (copying) but something in your gut tells you there’s more to his notebook than the messy handwriting and crossed out words that meet the eye.

with suna distracted, you take the chance to carefully slide the book towards you and then, in a single quick swipe, pull it into your lap under the table, already leafing to the back pages—everyone knows that’s where the real secrets are—not sure what to expect. a flash of color makes you pause and you flip back to a page that has the corner folded into a tiny, crisp triangle.

whatever you were thinking suna had stashed in the back of his calculus notebook certainly does not match up with what’s staring you in the face currently. sparkly, gel-inked hearts in neon colors glitter under the fluorescent overheads. in each of them, written in capital letters neater than you thought possible for suna, is your initials, a small plus sign in the middle, and then S.R. (for none other than suna rinatoru) next to it. it instantly makes sense to you. “rin, what the fuck.” one side of the book dangles from your hand, pages fluttering, and you hold it up for him to see, other hand flying to cover your mouth because you don’t know whether to laugh or pretend to be mortified or what.

it’s very amusing to watch how suna goes from a disinterested stare, to widened eyes, to reaching over the heaps of school supplies to attempt to grab the book from you, frantic. you hold it just out of reach. “what are you—” an old lady at a table shushes him when he half-screams. “—give that back,” suna whisper-yells instead in the greatest verbal equivalent of tiny caps you’ve ever heard.

“not a chance.”

he looks like he wants to lunge across the table and pry his prized possession from your meddling hands, but also has half the mind not to make a scene. getting kicked out and then subsequently banned from his favorite diner all on a noise complaint and disorderly conduct accusation was not ideal.

you hum, flip back to your place, and observe the drawings covering the lined pages. you shoot him a venomous smirk over the edge of the cover, one that’s more theatrics than anything, and say with all the satisfaction of someone who knows they have all the power, “oh, this is gold.” he deflates and you feel grateful he doesn’t see right through your facade because oh man are you sweating inside right now. what the fuck? no way suna rintarou is drawing little hearts with both of your initials in it like a lovesick middle schooler. no fucking way. you almost want to tell him that you did the same thing once when the thoughts about him had gotten especially bad (you felt guilty afterwards though, thinking you never had a chance with him, but... now... if he’s doing the same—well, that kind of changes everything).

suna is utterly defeated you think—doesn’t even try to defend himself, just slumps in his seat with a groan. you at least expected a “i can explain!” from him, a last attempt at dignity, not the resigned “i’m never going to live this down, am i?” he mumbles after a few seconds. well, either works for you.

“nope,” you quip, maybe a little too cheerfully because the response you receive is a distressed wail and him banging his head against the table. the old lady shushes him again. you chuckle at that (it feels a little wobbly though because once again, freaking out here) and flip the page. you stop.

this one has similar perfect little hearts drawn all over it, but there are other things. cute, standard shaky drawings of misshapen dogs and volleyballs and other things you never thought suna would take it upon himself to create but all of which make sense are there. but there’s something else. little scribbles in the corners with your last name swapped with his and even him trying out his name with your last one—all of them are scratched out but not so much you can’t read them. a list on the right in a very tiny font that makes you think he was embarrassed even penning the words is titled “date ideas?” (the question mark is in red and the dot is a heart) and has several popular spots around town written down in the local lingo of unofficial names for them.

“listen... please let’s forget about this.” rin’s voice is muffled and he’s still faceplanted. “it’s fine if you don’t... you know... yeah.” if you don’t feel that way, he means. true, the doodles were a pretty good indication of his feelings.

what to do...

well... you take pity on him, let your lips upturn and your eyes soften to reflect the sentiment, and shut the book with a quiet thud. you slide it back across the table from where it came and back to him silently. you give it a resounding pat when suna peeks up at you, expression saying it all—he was so going to get you back for this. you stick your tongue out—acceptance of the challenge. and just like that, you’re friends again—maybe that’s what’s so great about suna.

as you get ready to leave and slowly begin the trek back to the dorm buildings with him, street lamps glimmering a pasty yellow, there’s no awkward tension, no need to ask questions, no verbal wonderings about what ifs between you two. it’s just joking and shoving each other around and challenges to see who can run to the next tree the fastest in the middle of the chilly february night. you know, maybe for now you’ll keep your own thoughts a secret.

[sunsetcurvetaintedhotdog]

Let’s Be Kids Again ☀︎

Summary: Reader is having an awful day but luckily Luke is there to help her.

Warning: Probably some language and bad grammar

Word count: 1,766

Honestly, two more weeks left of school, and these teachers don’t give a crap. “UGHH!!” I quickly stood up from my desk because if I keep looking at all the missing assignments and projects that I have to turn in I’m probably gonna lose my mind.

Lately, I’ve been feeling like work just keeps piling up and it’s a never-ending cycle of turning in twenty assignments by the end of the week and then still being behind on fifteen more. I should be out right now not stuck inside on a Saturday. I could’ve gone to the boy’s rehearsal and just sat there. But no here I am stuck in my bedroom with papers all over the place.

I hear a knock at my door “Sweetie Luke’s one the phone come downstairs.” I quickly open my door and bolt downstairs.

Luke and I are best friends although I don’t really like saying it because it reminds me of how much I don’t want to be friends with him. I want more. I’ve had a crush on him for a while now still trying to adapt to the new feeling. I’m not gonna say anything tho it will ruin our friendship if he doesn’t like me back and just make everything awkward between all of us.

“Hey” I heard Luke’s mom talking through the other line “Luke wash the dishes before you leave please I don’t know how you could live in your own filth” on the other side of the phone Luke rolled his eyes at his mother exaggeration, there was only three cups in the sink “yea, yea, ok”. I started giggling at his antics knowing exactly he’s only saying that so she could get off his back. He’s not really gonna do the dishes.

“Hey, ok so I was thinking we could do something tonight. Reg really wanted to go to the new carnival that just opened. Something about needing to get his future told I don’t know” he let out a sigh “what do you think?” As soon as I was about to say sure I remembered the nightmare of homework I have upstairs waiting for me. “Ugh i cant i have homework sorry Lu”

“Forget about homework you could do it another day” “Lu I can’t just forget about it it’s due in a few days” Luke is now pouting “So, you’ve done a lot over the year getting a few bad grades won’t harm you come on party pooper” suddenly a light bulb goes off in his head “Bet i can win you at bumper cars loser has to buy the other one food?” He was teasing her and he knew it. Since they were little they always did bets sometimes going to far as none of them wanted to lose. He knew she wasn’t gonna turn down a bet.

“I hate you. You know that” Luke smiled in victory. “Yes, i love you too” he said with the biggest smile ever. He loved hanging out with her. More at carnivals her unmatched energy always amazed him she was so energetic and he loved it. Someone had to keep up with him right..

“Ok find I’ll meet you at the carnival” “ok see you there” I placed the phone back on the wall and went upstairs to change. Once I was done I headed out but my dad stopped me. “Finished your homework already?” “Uh...um... yea didn’t have that much apparently” yea that was a lie but that was tomorrow’s problem. I walked out and headed to the carnival which was only a few blocks away from my house.

“Hey there trouble” ah trouble the infamous nickname that Alex gave me when we were 12. Luke had made a bet on whoever can scare Mrs. Frances, our 7th grade science teacher, the hardest got to name the their band. Because of me the bands name is Sunset Curve, a huge victory for me but I can’t say the same for Mrs. Frances. She had to eat lunch with a frog that day...ops... yea no I wasn’t sorry it was hilarious but if it wasn’t for me Sunset Curve would be named Bloody Devils cause Luke thought it was cool.

“Hey Al, oh I like your.....” I was cut off by Reggie putting his arms around me and Alex. “WHOS READY TO RIDE THE HORSES!!” Yea Reg has a thing for horses that explains ‘Home is Where my Horse is’.

“Reginald relax go get a corn dog or something” Bobby rolled his eyes at the over excited Reggie bouncing on one leg. He truly loved carnivals. “Ok I’ll be right back after the corn dog we have to get our future told I heard the one here is really accurate I want to know if I end up marrying Reese Witherspoon.”

“Ok guys what do you want to do first? Ferris wheel, go-carts, games, ...bumper cars...” I side glanced at Luke and he was already looking at me. “Oh your on” with that me and him were racing to the bumper car line bumping into each other once we got there. He quickly grabbed me by the waist so I wouldn’t fall on the other people. We were both laughing and smiling like idiots. “We should’ve walked” I said wiping my tears off my face. “Yea probably” he chuckled. “Ok so Al and Bobby get to choose who wins.” i said “Ok deal if I win you have to buy me the biggest ice cream cone they sell here” he said “Ok and if I win....um I want.... “ I looked around and the saw the big pretzel cart “The biggest pretzel they can make” “Deal” we did our handshake and turned around to stand in line.

“Ok Al, Bobby, focus you need to make sure you watch to see who wins” Luke said Alex and Bobby nodded and we were off into our own bumper cars. Me and Luke were bumping off each other and hitting other strangers cars. I think I might get a neck cramp. But it was really fun and I think I won. We got off giggling “ Ok so who is the lucky winner” I asked “Luke I’m never getting a car with you, y/n won” Alex said “yea totally destroyed you dude” Bobby added. Luke let out a snicker “yea please I let her win..” “sure you did bud” Bobby patted Luke on the back and went off to flirt with a girl he had seen earlier in the line. Reggie isn’t back so he might be stuffing his face with corn dogs. “And then there were three” I sighed. Alex turned around from walking in front of me and Luke “yea well make that two there is this really cute skater over there and I think I might go talk to him so peace out” he turned around and walked away. He quickly glanced back and winked at me “have fun”.

“Ok that makes two then, you up to take me on the pretzel offer” I asked Luke, he looked down at me with one of his gorgeous smiles that can brighten up the whole town. Geez why is he making it so hard not to fall in love with him. “Anything for you” he kissed the top of my head and we headed to the pretzel cart. We ordered and sat down on a bench to eat the pretzel. He took many bites but whatever he did pay for it. Still I won so I don’t see how it’s fair he got part of the prize, oh well. “So homework is stressful right?” he asked. I groaned “ugh yes I just wish I could be a kid so I wouldn’t have to do so much work and the only thing I would have to worry about is sleeping in nap time” I rested my head against his shoulder and he rested his against mine. “ Ok then, let’s be kids again then” I looked up at him confused “what?” “Let’s be kids again, let’s ride everything here and completely forget that we have responsibilities for tonight. How does that sound” he was practically buzzing now with excitement “I’m down” I said. “First one to throw up cleans the others room for a week” he said “Bet!”. We got up and starting riding everything that we could.

It’s been two hours and I’m waiting outside the boys bathroom with a water bottle for Luke. Can you guess who won. “Ugh that last ride really pulled some strings” he said. I giggled at him handing him the water bottle. “Up for one more tho” he groaned “depends, i don’t think my stomach can take anything else. “Ferris wheel?” I asked. He nodded and we headed there. Now getting into the ride we sat next to each other and the ride starting going up. The sky was a beautiful mix of pinks, reds, yellows, and blues. He wrapped his arm around my waist and I laid my head on his shoulder while we just admired the sunset. Well i did, I didn’t know that Luke wasn’t looking at the sunset he was looking at me like if I were the most beautiful painting he’s ever seen.

“Y/n...” i glanced back up and what he did next really surprised me. He pushed his lips against mines and I didn’t react I was frozen in place. He was about to pull away when I finally starting kissing back. He took his hand and put it on my cheek and I tangled my hands in his hair. This was amazing I always loved carnivals because of the adrenaline a ride gave you but this completely ruled out that feeling it felt passionate and warm. My stomach was doing flips and I was loving it, everything about this moment was just perfect.

When we finally pulled away we pressed our foreheads together still with our eyes closed “You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that” he let out a shaky breath “then do it again” I whispered. He leaned back in to kiss me. This kiss went on a little longer and it was even more passionate than the one before if that was even possible. Now there was nothing stopping us we both know how we feel about each other and we can be together now.

Now not only do I have my best friend with me constantly but I think I might have found my soulmate. I am completely utterly in love with Luke Patterson.

[fabulouspotatosister]

just for a day

summary: What’s a little acting between friends? If friends was even the right word.

word count: (idk yet man lol ) 3,373

request:  Hello! I just wanna say your writing is absolutely amazing! If I may, could I request an 11 x reader where the reader’s friends keep bugging them to get a boyfriend, but they say they already do and they have to ask the Doctor to be their “boyfriend” (kind of like with Clara at the beginning of Time Of The Doctor) and eventually leads to feelings being spilt? If not, that’s perfectly fine!

a/n: this got WAYYY too long and for that i am so sorry lmao. i’m writing and posting this on the same day so if there are many mistakes or it doesn’t make sense that’s on me. anyway, i hope you enjoy this fic!

gif credit: @pavel-chekovs

~

“You’re back!”

 You’d expected screaming. You’d expected yelling, and a fair dose of pterodactyl-esque screeching from the students in your advisory class, but what you weren’t expecting was crying. And lots of it. Nearly every fresh-faced elementary student was in tears, some sobbing quietly and some full-on bawling as soon as you walked through the door.

It was nice, cute even, but honestly a little disconcerting.

 “Hi, everyone,” you said, shutting the door carefully behind you. The sight of their crying faces immediately activated your Parent Mode. “Are you all okay?”

 “Perfectly fine!” Marih chirped, president of the class and therefore a little more levelheaded than the rest, which earned her a handful of disagreeing sighs. “What? Guys, you look ridiculous crying,” she continued, as she wiped her cheeks with the back of her palms and gave you a toothy grin. “We’re just happy you’re here again.”

 You smiled at her, and reached out to pat the top of her head. “That’s great and all, but it’s like you guys haven’t seen me in ages.”

 A heavy silence fell over the whole class. You saw students shift in their seats and look down at the floor, suddenly very interested in their black school shoes. Even Jaden, the class’s resident troublemaker, didn’t say a word. Marih cringed, ran a hand through her long dark hair, and smoothed the front of her checkered uniform.

 “How long have I been gone?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. Marih seemed to cringe away at the question. “I thought I was only travelling for a week!”

 “Actually,” Marih said, stretching out the word, “you’ve been gone for three months?”

Your mouth fell open. You stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded, before you dug into your pocket and fished out your phone – she was right, it had been exactly three months and a week since you’d left the school to go travelling.

 You groaned. “Oh, I’m going to kill him.”

 By travelling, you meant time travelling and by him you meant the Doctor. The madman in a box that you’d run off with. You had let him turn your life upside down in the best way possible since he dragged you into the TARDIS, with his stupidly gorgeous smile and eyes and – you were getting off topic. Now you were plotting the murder of the man that you would consider to be the most incredible thing that had ever happened to you.

 “Hey, ma’am?” came a soft voice from the front of the room. Karyll, with her tied-back hair and glasses, looked up at you from her seat. “Why are you looking like you’re going to kill someone?”

 “’Cause I am,” you said cheerily, shoving your phone back into your pocket. Oh, you were going to have words with him, and they would most definitely not be nice ones. “Have I missed anything big? Were you nice to my substitute?”

 A collective wave of disagreement swept over the class, and you couldn’t help but let a smile slip onto your face. These were your babies after all, and if you’d really been gone for three months then they were sorely missing their Second Mom.

 Maybe the tears weren’t that much of a surprise after all.

 “Okay, good morning everyone! Now, if we’re still on schedule, and I really hope we are, we should be talking about integers…”

 The late afternoon sun drifted through the curtains of your classroom, filling the room with an almost hazy glow as you sat with your best friends in a haphazard circle of desks. Your kids had all gone home already, and a little pile of flowers and chocolates sat neatly on your shelves, right beside your lesson plan folders.

 Denise leaned forward to look at them, her curly hair falling over her face. She was the elementary students’ science teacher, and was so well-organized it was almost inhuman. She would have liked the planet where everything was arranged alphabetically, you thought.

 “I’m jealous, my students never give me gifts,” she said as she leaned away. “Sis, where have you even been?”

 “Long story,” you replied, and it was. You weren’t sure if you could fit everything you’d been through – travelling through time, going to planets lightyears away, and of course all of the near-death experiences – into a story that you could tell in under an hour, and you weren’t going to try.

 “And you’ve been travelling? By yourself?” Julianne, an arts teacher, raised her eyebrows at you from behind her laptop. “God, that’s lonely. Oh – unless…” Her calm expression morphed into something truly evil in your line of work – mischievousness. “Unless you had someone with you.”

 “I mean –” Oh no, this was going to be hard to get out of. “I mean, I wasn’t alone,” you said, hoping the smile on your face was enough to mask your utter fear. You knew exactly where Julianne was going and you hated it. “I was with someone.”

 “Ooh,” Julianne said, her grin growing so sly it was sending shivers up your spine. “You’ve been gone three months, has anything happened between you and your travel buddy?”

 Heat rushed to your face. If you were a cartoon character steam would be pouring from your ears. “Why would you say something like that?”

 Julianne shrugged. “We’ve been telling you to get a boyfriend for so long. You said you’d be gone a week, and then you disappear for three months… that kinda says something, don’t you think, Denise?”

 “Definitely.” Denise grinned, and you shot her a helpless look.

 “We’re doing this because we love you,” Julianne sang. The light from her laptop was enough to make her look absolutely menacing. “So? Travel buddy? Or more than that?”

 The Doctor wasn’t just a travel buddy, and he was so much more than that – but you hadn’t found the words for what he meant to you, at least not yet. Companion was enough for you and him, but even then, there was a weight to that word. And there was definitely a weight to your partnership, but you wouldn’t call it… dating.

 Julianne simply waggled her perfectly shaped eyebrows at you. You swallowed. You and the Doctor were a long story too, and Julianne wasn’t going to be happy with “maybe” for an answer.

 The words were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Fine, he’s my boyfriend!”

 I want to crawl into a hole and die was your inner monologue, and your background music was Julianne and Denise’s raucous laughter. I want to crawl into a hole and never have to face the world ever again.

 --

 Smash cut to you, standing nervously in your bedroom, gripping your phone so tightly you were sure it was going to break. Your plans of killing the Doctor for dropping you off late would have to wait. The phone rung once, twice, and you chewed your lip. If he was in the Time Vortex, any version of him could answer the phone and you couldn’t deal with that on top of everything, not today at least –

 “Hello?”

 You heaved a sigh of relief at the sound of the Doctor, your Doctor’s voice. “Help?” you squeaked out.

 “Help?” the Doctor repeated. There was a blaring noise, and then the sound of electricity crackling. Something fizzled and popped, and the Doctor shouted something that sounded like a swear. “Oh, shut it – you – sorry, sorry. You were saying?”

 “Uh, where are you right now? Are you somewhere?” you asked.

 “I’m not somewhere, I’m drifting! Right above Earth, approximately right where you are,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice. It quelled your anxiety somewhat. “I’m doing maintenance. Agh – ow! I think I can see the roof of your house through the clouds, unless that’s someone else’s house. What color is your roof?”

 You giggled. “It’s brown. You’re in the same time as me?”

 “’Course I am,” the Doctor said. You heard the clanging sound of metal being dropped. “I never left.”

 The Doctor liked to run off on his own when you were home and have his own mini-adventures. He liked to come back and say he’d spent his time with alien royalty, or something like that. But instead he was staying put, he was waiting, for you. It made the next part so much harder.

 “I need you to be my boyfriend,” you said quickly, covering your burning face with your free hand.

 “Oh,” the Doctor said simply. Another clang.

 Oh? “Just for a day,” you coughed. “I kind of said that I had a boyfriend, and that he was my travel buddy, and now my friends kind of want to meet you. It’s my grade’s family day tomorrow, maybe you could, uh, show up?”

 “And be your boyfriend,” the Doctor said.

 You nodded, then, “And be my boyfriend. Just for the day. You never have to show up again.”

There was a beat of silence, and for a second you thought the Doctor was going to say no – he had every right to, of course, and you could just lie and say that he couldn’t show up – but the Doctor laughed, cheerful and warm. “Ding-dong! Okay! What time tomorrow? I have to study, I’m a bit rusty in places.”

 Your mouth fell open for the second time in twenty-four hours. “You’re serious?”

 “Very! Any pet name preferences?”

 You groaned loudly, and the Doctor laughed again. “Shut up!”

 “Alright, alright. Guess I’ll have to do my own research.”

 There was another moment of silence, and when the Doctor spoke again, it was much softer, much less playful. His voice almost sounded fond. “Goodnight?”

 “Goodnight, Doctor,” you said softly, and the call cut off with a series of short beeps.

 --

 Was it a surprise that you barely slept at all? You had spent the whole night with your imagination running at full capacity, your mind latching onto every single thought and concept it could come up with. You slipped in and out of sleep, lying still in bed whenever a possibility popped into your head. To say you were nervous was the understatement of the year – but what was a little acting between friends?

 If friends was the right word for it.

 You waited for the Doctor behind the school, leaning against the concrete wall and watching the TARDIS fade into this plane. Wind blew into your face as the TARDIS groaned and wheezed, eventually materializing in front of you.

 “I’m not late, am I?” the Doctor said, sticking his head out of the TARDIS doors. He grinned widely, his hair falling into his face. You grinned back at him and pushed yourself off the wall.

 “You’re early, which is a first,” you said. The Doctor frowned at you, stepped carefully out of the TARDIS, and frowned some more. “Don’t look at me like that.”

 “I think I’ve earned the right to look at you however I’d like,” the Doctor huffed, adjusting his bowtie. He’d ditched the tweed for the day, it seemed, going with a long green coat that annoyingly complimented his eyes. The frown didn’t last very long, though, because he went right back to grinning brightly at you. He held out his elbow in your direction. “Shall we?”

 “Here’s the lucky girl,” Julianne cooed as you walked into the empty canteen. All the tables were pushed aside to make space for all the games you’d be playing – in the corner of your eye, you saw the Doctor light up at the sight of all of the streamers and balloons. “And here’s the lucky boy – oh my god, Denise.”

 “What?” Denise popped up from behind a large speaker, then blanched. “Oh, now I’m double jealous.”

 The Doctor pulled away from you to lightly kiss both of Julianne’s cheeks in greeting. Julianne looked positively starstruck when he stepped back to stand beside you, quickly waving Denise over. Denise had her mouth hanging open, still clutching a microphone in her hands.

 “Hi,” you said, gesturing at the Doctor, “here’s my boyfriend.”

 The Doctor raised his hand and smiled. “Hello! I’m John Smith, lovely to meet you both. You’re my girlfriend’s girl friends, I assume?”

 “Uh –” Denise blinked owlishly. “Yeah, we are.” Then, quietly and to herself, “Holy moly.”

 You couldn’t help but grin at their flabbergasted faces. The Doctor rested his hand on the small of your back, and you leaned into his touch as if it was the most normal thing in the universe. That was enough to make Denise stumble into Julianne, who barely even reacted, as she was still staring wide-eyed at the both of you.

 “I think we caught them off guard,” you said. The Doctor chuckled and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

 “You did when we met, sweetheart,” the Doctor said smoothly. Sweetheart echoed in your ears and bounced off the walls of your already racing mind. Your heart stuttered in your chest. That was bad.

 “Oh, are we doing charm now?” you asked. “Are you trying to be charming?”

 “I did say I would study,” the Doctor said.

 “You guys are insufferable,” Denise said, but she was beaming at you. “If you could get your hands off of your travel buddy for just a few minutes, I need help with the mics, the families are gonna be here any minute…”

 Her voice trailed off as she walked back to the speaker. You stood on your tiptoes to kiss the Doctor’s cheek, feeling his skin heat up underneath your lips. “See you later.”

 “…See you,” the Doctor echoed, and bent down to kiss your cheek too. He turned on his heel and walked towards the decorations, softly muttering, “Ooh, balloons! Love a good balloon…”

 You stared at him for longer than you should have, watching him poke and prod at the balloons lying on the tables. He put his face very close to one and smiled at his reflection in the plastic. Affection welled up in your chest, and a tiny smile slipped onto your face.

 “Look at you, you’re smiling at him,” Julianne chimed, sidling up to you and nudging your side. “That’s disgusting.”

 “Says the girl who said I needed to get a boyfriend,” you shot back.

 The Doctor went still for a little bit and turned to face you, smiled and winked, then went right back to inspecting balloons. Julianne made a strangled noise, and you made one too. So he was doing charm, and you hated to admit that it was absolutely working on you.  

 “I meant to say disgustingly adorable,” Julianne said. “You’re so lucky.”

 You gave him another glance as you walked away to help Denise with the mics – “help with the mics” was apparently code for “I’m going to tease you more about your new boyfriend”  which wasn’t helped by the fact that every so often, the Doctor would look in your direction and just smile, which was enough to make you stumble over your own words and give Denise more teasing fodder.

 The parents and their kids eventually filed into the canteen and you flipped into Teacher Mode. You stood next to your students, pinched their cheeks and then greeted all of the parents and got everyone ready for the program. (You didn’t notice how the Doctor mirrored you, standing a little far away and watching, a dumb smile on his face.)

 Julianne and Denise were the emcees for the family day, big smiles on their faces as they rounded up everyone for the games. At the mere mention of games, the Doctor was back at your side at an instant, his eyes glittering with excitement.

 “Please don’t destroy the kids,” you pleaded.

 “No promises,” he replied, and then proceeded to destroy the kids in most of the games.

 The first game had Julianne call out for whoever could bring an item of her choice to the table – the Doctor, with his coat that was surely bigger on the inside, had no trouble pulling out whatever was asked. Even when Julianne started to test the waters and ask for increasingly insane items, the Doctor just kept going. He jumped in joy like a little kid at the win, bounding up to you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. You’d just blushed and smiled, ignoring the butterflies that were multiplying in your stomach.

 The Doctor holding your hand wasn’t new. The Doctor being close to you wasn’t new. The Doctor being affectionate with you wasn’t new. But now it was all under the guise of being your boyfriend. Of course it felt different, but to your surprise and growing horror, it didn’t feel bad.

 The Doctor shouting your name snapped you out of your thoughts. He was standing on a piece of newspaper as Denise started to get music ready, waving his arms to beckon you over. His coat was gone, thrown onto a nearby table, and even without it he was dashing.

 “I need you over here!” he yelled, still jumping excitedly. His hair bounced up and down with the movement. “I need a partner!”

 You let your feet carry you to him, trying to ignore the stares pointed your way. The Doctor took your hand in his and pulled you onto the newspaper.

 “Stay close,” the Doctor said. “I’ve got this.”

 Loud, thumping music filled the air. The Doctor spun you around and you squealed in surprise, moving your feet clumsily to the music. Suddenly, it stopped, and the Doctor pulled you back onto the newspaper. It was a tight fit, and you had to press yourself against his body to even stay standing. The butterflies in your stomach went crazy at the contact, and once again you tried to ignore that, too.

 “What did I say?” the Doctor breathed, his breath tickling your ear, his smile wide and manic. “Let’s dance!”

 The paper got smaller and smaller, and the two of you got closer and closer. Sweat started to bead on your forehead, and the Doctor had rolled his sleeves up in the middle of all the chaos. In the end, it was just you and another pair of parents, tiptoeing on their own folded pieces of newspaper.

 “I’ve got an idea,” the Doctor said, his voice loud over the music. “When the music stops, jump into my arms.”

 “Seriously?!” you shouted, and the Doctor nodded enthusiastically. “You’ve got the balance of a drunk giraffe! You’ll drop me!”

 “Do you trust me?” the Doctor asked.

 There wasn’t any question. “I do!”

 “Then jump!”

 The music stopped, and in the split second where the Doctor stepped onto the now-tiny folded newspaper, you ran and leapt. For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn’t be able to catch you at all, and in your mind you could already see it – you crashing into him and sending you both tumbling to the floor.

 The Doctor’s arms shot out and caught you. Cheers erupted from everyone in the canteen, and behind you your competitors both lost their balance and fell face-first onto the floor. You wrapped your arms around the Doctor’s neck to steady yourself in his arms, feeling him shake slightly as he kept you aloft.

 “We won!” you gasped, still basking in all of the cheering. “As expected from my lovely boyfriend.”

 The words left your mouth as easily as breathing. You smiled up at the Doctor, breathless from all of the dancing. His skin shone with sweat, his hair was a mess, and his bowtie was askew, but even that was enough to make you throw all caution to the wind – still in his arms, you pulled him down and kissed him.

 Cheers erupted from everyone again, but you could care less. The room could be empty and nothing would have changed. As cliché as it sounded, all the mattered was the feeling of the Doctor’s lips against yours. Your hands found their way into his hair and he melted into your touch, pulling you closer to him.

 “You know,” the Doctor breathed as he pulled away, “I don’t want this to be just for a day.”

 “Good,” you replied. You leaned up to press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Because I don’t either.”

[ko-eko-ev-go-ms]

*Shrivels into the void*

TFW you double check your stuff to make sure you’re doing things properly within the rules only to realize you misread the rules and have actually fucked everything up so your soul shrivels up and dies

[gryffindors-weasley]

Finding A Light // Part Two

Ron Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: A simple afternoon in Hogsmeade leads to the start of a tradition.

Warnings: fluff, mild angst

Part one

Ron found himself struggling to keep his focus on his portion of teaching throughout the week, and it was beginning to become apparent that his mind was elsewhere.

“Mr. Weasley?” A student had asked for what would be the third time now, and she had started to wave her hand in front of his face.

Startled, he looked up from the parchment he scribbled on with his quill that had long since run out of ink. He offered a smile to the confused girl, cheeks burning as Lupin laughed next to him. He sat up a little straighter, clearing his throat. “My apologies, Alice. Can I—can I help you with something?”

She looks at the blushing redhead quizzically before offering a polite smile. “Will there be extra credit available?”

The question made him smile, the eager young student always looking for ways to better her grade even though it doesn’t seem like it could get any higher than a perfect score. Such a quality had reminded him very much of Hermione.

“I suppose I’ll have to think of something,” he says, though there couldn’t possibly be anything new to think of without spoiling future lessons.

She accepts his answer with a nod, though her shoulders do slump in a bit of disappointment as she walks back to her seat. Lupin is still grinning knowingly at him when he looks over, a sigh leaving his lips.

“You wouldn’t happen to be so distracted over this girl you’ve met, would you?” He asks, and though Ron hasn’t said anything yet, the pale crimson that colors his cheeks almost immediately in response is enough to know he’d hit the nail on the head.

“Who told you that?” Ron asks, plucking at the quill in his hand as he raises his brow. He still tries to play it off even though he knows his cover has been blown.

“I do have a keen sense of hearing, you know,” he laughs, “I heard you at dinner last week. You’re not very discreet with your emotions, Weasley.”

He nods down at his hands, sighing as he bites back his growing smile. “I’m convinced you and McGonagall love to torment me.”

He laughed again, nodding at Ron’s words. “It’s only our job. And it’s one you make very easy for us.”

“It’s absolutely not,” Ron says, trying to remain stoic but he couldn’t find it in him to stifle his own laughter. “I swear you two are making up for my family’s lack of teasing.”

—

Ron found himself wandering the familiar stone pathway to the very shop he’d spent the better part of a week thinking about, though the whole time he’d wondered if this was ridiculous. Had you really hoped to see him again? Or was he blowing it out of proportion by mistaking a friendly gesture for that of an invitation to return. He wasn’t really sure of himself the more he ran that humiliating scenario through his head.

His feet seemed to have given him no choice in the matter as he continued to navigate the familiar village, brushing by clusters of students who argued about where to go next. It wasn’t that big of a deal, he thought. If you didn’t recognize him then he could just leave and put it all behind him. But if you did, he could just say he was buying chocolates to send home, if only to not make it completely obvious that the reasons for his visit entirely were to see you.

When the dark wood trim and pink sign came into view he wasn’t sure if his arrival came too soon or not soon enough as he shook out his hands. He felt ridiculous with the way his heart beat out of his chest, or the nerves swirling around in his stomach. First impressions had already been made, no matter how foolish and flustered, so there was no reason to be so nervous. But his heart and his brain were not quite on the same page.

The sweet air of the small shop hit him in a wave the moment he opened the door, a handful of third years rushing past him which inevitably caused him to stumble back a step. The excitement seems to have not worn off just yet. His eyes immediately went to the front counter where you’d said your goodbyes the week before, but he was rather disappointed when it wasn’t you who was there. He didn’t let it deter him, though, instead stepping further into the shop to have a look at the candies.

Despite such a small stretch of time having gone by since he was last there, it seemed as though their inventory was completely different. They still had their best sellers on brilliant and eye catching displays, still had large glass jars filled to the brim with colorful candy, but there were far more new things than he had remembered there being. Even with that being said, he was still more focused on the fact that he hadn’t seen you yet and it’d been a whole ten minutes of wandering around aimlessly, surely looking a bit out of place.

Three aisles in and he still hadn’t seen you. He was fighting the urge to ask where you were, feeling as though that’d be a ridiculous thing to do. Because what was he to say if asked for a reason? Surely he couldn’t give them the real one, that would be utterly humiliating. He was beginning to think he misread your words as he weaved between students, regret forming in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he’d have better luck another time, though he didn’t like the idea of waiting for when that would be.

Upon passing the counter again, his brain scrambled for a reason not to, fighting between his own curiosity and the side of him telling himself not to do it and just leave. But he’s quickly made up his mind.

“Excuse me,” he says, clearing his throat when his words came out rather timidly. He takes a step closer when he captures the cashiers attention. “Would you happen to know where Y/n is?”

Any trace of hopefulness had left when he heard the mans response. “I’m afraid not, her shift ended sometime within the last hour. Would you like me to leave her a message?”

Ron was quick to shake his head, masking the clear disappointment he felt with a smile. “No…no that’s okay. Thank you.”

He left the shop empty handed and stuffed them in his pockets, releasing the sigh he’d been holding. It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal, really, he’d only met you once. On a busy day at that. But it was something about the way your brief interaction had stopped time for lack of better wording. He knew it was rather silly to feel that way, but it’s what made him come back.

As his mother had always said, if it was meant to happen it would have. With that in mind he tried to brush it off and focus on other matters, like the stack of assignments that needed grading once he returned. It wasn’t something he looked forward to, trying to stall and walk as leisurely as he could through the busy village.

He couldn’t imagine reading dozens of those things being any more fun than it was to write them, and if he gave it any more thought he would completely ruin his mood. He certainly wasn’t as happy as the students around him though he knows he’s probably being a bit dramatic. But this very place wasn’t feeling quite so magical, for lack of a better, less ironic word. Everything seemed to bother him in that moment; the way the wind blew his hair in his eyes, the fact that he kept tripping on the uneven stone streets, the way that—

“Ron?”

He looked up from his gaze at his feet, turning in the direction the voice had come from. His heart skipped a beat upon seeing it belonged to you, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when you joined him and he quickly forgot those things annoying him.

“Hey,” he nearly beams, and suddenly the thought of his mother’s wise words didn’t make him feel quite so bad anymore.

“I’m sorry to have left you hanging, I finished my shift half an hour ago and decided to stick around here in case maybe you did turn up,” you shrug, nonchalant in your explanation as you walk up to him.

His smile widened as he raised a curious brow at you, his nerves beginning to disappear and be replaced with some confidence. “So you waited for me?”

You flushed a soft pink at his words, looking up at him with a laugh. “Perhaps. Only because you decided to come back.”

It was his turn to blush a shade of crimson at your witty remark, smiling down at his feet as you accentuated your teasing with a nudge of your elbow to his arm. It was true, and though he’d never admit it aloud, it seems as though he didn’t have to.

“Would you like to join me for tea? I always stop by Madam Puddifoot’s after my weekend shifts. She’s quite fond of me so I bet I can get you a free pastry if you’d like.” Your words were followed by the warmest of smiles, and he found himself unable to resist such an offer.

“Yeah…yeah that’d be nice,” he says with a soft laugh, a bit stunned and more so when you grabbed his wrist and tugged him towards the shop.

As a testament to your words, you were greeted warmly by the older woman who recited what he assumed was your order. When she turned to him he was at a loss for words, cheeks reddening once more before you asked for another of what you’d gotten.

“Thanks,” he smiles, taking a seat across from you at a nearby table. “I’ve never been here before, my friend told me it was a bit…sappy.”

“Oh it very much is, but she can make a very good cup of tea.”

He nods with a laugh, any worry that he may have said something too bold about this place you seemed to love now dissipating.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself immersed in conversation, finding it rather easy to talk to him about anything and everything. Any pause in conversation had been very brief and quickly filled with something else, a dull moment never finding its way between the two of you. Tea cups had long since been empty and several students had filtered in and out of the shop while the two of you remained at the same table, blissfully unaware of the fact that you were quickly becoming the only two residing in the place. It didn’t seem to matter all that much, nor did that stack of essays collecting dust on his desk. Those could wait another day.

4 Months Later

Spending every Saturday afternoon at Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop was quickly adopted as a tradition between the two of you should your schedules allow it. Over that expanse of time you learned about Ron’s wonderfully large family, and unfortunately the loss of a beloved member of it. You’ve learned he has an affinity for quidditch, well, maybe more than an affinity because he spent a very lengthy amount of time talking about it until he shut himself up. And perhaps your favorite part was experiencing firsthand his ever growing hatred for spiders. It was a memory you never let him forget, the way his voice adopted a higher pitch as he put a good ten feet between himself and the small spider until you had taken care of the problem. You’d made a promise to yourself to never let him live it down.

But in spite of the humor, you found yourself thinking that your time spent with him was quite possibly the most fun you’ve ever had. Not that Ron Weasley had been one to walk on the wild side, but everything that seemed mundane before became much more interesting when he was involved.

Over the course of that time, Ron had learned your hobbies and just as easily the things you don’t like. He learned you can fill up your cup of tea as if it’d never been drank with just a simple motion of your hand which is something you inevitably taught him to do. It lead to him overflowing his mug and spilling his tea on his lap, something you also aim to never let him forget. And he doesn’t know how, but you can change the color of just about anything you please, though you tried it on his hair and it hadn’t quite worked out so well. He felt like Tonks as he stood in the middle of your apartment with purple hair as you laughed hysterically.

However, to get sentimental, he quickly found you to be the one thing to bring out a smile when he finds himself falling back to the memories of his losses. It didn’t take much effort on your end, your presence would always suffice. And above all the countless things he’s learned about you, perhaps this next one was the most prominent. Ron Weasley accepted the fact that he was falling in love with his best friend. It wasn’t unexpected, he felt as though maybe he’d always had some form of feelings since day one. But he found it much more intense than those days, though he’d never admit it, not for a long while.

Currently, you found yourselves tucked away in the cozy little building as the rain poured outside, decorated floor to ceiling in Valentine’s Day related things. Even though it was just about a month before the actual day, there was no stopping Madam Puddifoot from indulging in her favorite holiday. Walls were decorated in enchanted red Cupid’s that shot glitter and confetti from their arrows, frilly heart covered tablecloths and lacy napkins, and even pink and red frosted pastries. Ron was beginning to understand why Harry hadn’t liked this place so much.

But it was weekly tradition, and nothing could deter him from coming here with you, not even the heart shaped cookies or the pink confetti stuck annoyingly in his hair.

“What can I get you today?” Madam asked, her notepad in hand though she really hadn’t used it very much. Not for the two of you at least.

“Peppermint tea with two sugars,” Ron says without hesitation. When he’s met with silence he lifts his head from the dessert menu, finding two sets of eyes on him.

It wasn’t until then that he realized he blurted your order, having known it like the back of his hand by this point. It wasn’t until then that he realized her question was directed at you first. His cheeks redden to what felt like the same shade as the table cloth, and he found himself wishing he could rewind and not have done that very embarrassing thing.

“Sorry,” He says, laughing awkwardly as he gulps. Though he’s only met with your sweet smile and a soft laugh from Madam who shook her head fondly at the two of you.

“And what can I get you, Mr. Weasley?”

“I’ll have a Yorkshire tea with extra sugar, please,” He says, much more timid, “and can I have a slice of cake if you’ve got any left?”

“Of course, my dear,” she smiles warmly. There would always be a slice waiting for him because she always made extra in preparation for the ginger boy’s weekly visit.

“Are you blushing?” You jest, chin in your hand as you squint at him from across the wobbly table when she rushes off.

“It’s just, you know…cold outside,” he defends, doing a terrible job of being convincing.

“We’ve been in here for nearly half an hour, Ronald. I’d hate to say it, but I know you’re lying,” you laugh and he looks to his side with a scoff, biting the inside of his cheek as if to will away any more color attempting to flood his cheeks just at the mere mention of it.

“You’re a pain sometimes, you know that?” He says though he smiles rather fondly at you.

“It happens to be my specialty,” you say, eyes skimming over the various holiday themed drink names on the lavishly printed menu. He steals another glance through his light ginger lashes, not missing the way a soft smile had been gracing your lips at the banter.

He shakes his head, laughing quietly to himself as he picks at his napkin. Was it really that evident how much of a mess you made him? He really hoped not.

Not much was said after that, yet the silence was comfortable. He watched as the rain poured outside, thick droplets trickling down the window panes and puddles forming in the uneven walkway. As much as he didn’t enjoy this kind of weather, it really had added to the ambience of this place. It made it all the more welcoming.

“I think we’ve got to apparate home if it doesn’t slow down out there,” he suggests, turning to you.

A frown immediately worked its way on your face at the thought. You hated apparating and he knew that, you could never quite get used to it’s side effects.

“That might just be your worst idea, Ron,” you say, huffing out at the thought. He laughs though, bringing a smile to your face.

The moment is quickly interrupted when two teas are brought to the table and given to their rightful owners, Ron’s highly anticipated cake set along with his. Triple chocolate cake.

“Will I be using the couples discount for you two?” The jovial woman asks with a smile, tucking her pink pencil behind her ear as she settles her hands on her hips.

“Oh! It’s not a date, well, not like that,” Ron says, cheeks burning as he laughed softly, clearly flustered the more he spoke, “we’re just friends.”

Madam Puddifoot apologizes for her blunder, though she still gives you both the discount regardless because she’s seen the way he looks at you. Over the many weeks she’s served the seemingly inseparable pair, she knew friends don’t look at friends quite the way you two do. It was almost fairytale-like. But neither of you seemed to be privy to the others lingering gazes and she wasn’t one to pry, not too much anyway.

Once she left you turned to him with slightly narrowed eyes and a bit of a frown you tried to conceal, finding yourself feeling the smallest bit of hurt, or something, simmering in your stomach. You didn’t know why it had struck a nerve and you didn’t like it.

“What?” He asks softly.

“I don’t think you could have said that any faster, Ron,” you say, stirring your spoon around in your tea a bit too vigorously, the hot liquid spilling over the meticulously painted edge of the cup and onto the small matching saucer it had been resting on.

He furrows his brows, confused at your change in attitude momentarily before a soft smile began to pull at the corner of his mouth. “You seem a bit upset about that, Y/n.”

He tilts his head in amused curiosity, watching as you rolled your eyes before he took a sip of his drink.

“I don’t believe I seem like anything.”

Your tone was playful as you spoke the words very matter-of-factly, though he didn’t miss the bite lacing around them. He only nods as he laughs quietly down at his own tea, not in mocking but in slight amusement.

Your soft smile shortly returned though Ron wondered if your sudden edge, no matter how subtle, was simply nothing or if it was indicative of something more. Perhaps it really did bother you, more than you let on. But he knows that if he lets his mind go down the road of those possibilities, he will only either get his hopes up or hurt his own feelings with scenarios that haven’t even happened. So, for the time being, he pushes it to the back of his mind and hoped it wouldn’t resurface.

“Have you uh, have you checked if that book store in town is open today? You said you wanted to go,” he says, trying desperately to find his way back to comfortable conversation.

“They’re closed,” you say, and he almost winced at the change in your tone whether you had meant to or not. No smile of yours could’ve hid that. He ignored the fact that you had mentioned earlier that they indeed were open, he knew if he paid it any more mind then he’d ruin his own day with assumptions.

He just nods, internally scolding himself as he regrets what he said moments ago.

Gaps in conversation weren’t easily filled after that, and he found he was the one starting the most of them. They really couldn’t be considered conversations at that point, more so observations and statements that you responded to before he moved on to the next one. You hadn’t particularly been ignoring him, you never would, but he knew your mood had soured even if you wouldn’t admit it.

You still teased him about the chocolate icing on the corners of his mouth because you’d never pass that opportunity up, or the way he dropped some in his lap because he’d been too focused staring, but you hadn’t stolen a bite like you usually had and you politely turned down his offer of some.

Your stay at the shop wasn’t nearly as extensive as it usually was either, your tea barely finished but you were rather joyous as you bid a goodbye to Madam Puddifoot. Of course you did still put up a fuss about apparating as you hooked your arm with Ron’s, and you did still hug him goodbye at your doorstep. It just wasn’t as tight as it usually was.

He wanted to bring it up, and he wanted to tell you he hadn’t meant it because the fact that you weren’t being your usual self was driving him crazy. But if he brought it up he’d have to tell you why exactly he hadn’t meant what he said, and he wasn’t ready for that conversation. He feels he might never be. So he decides against it as he stands just outside your door.

“See you next week?” He asks meekly when you pull away from him, scratching the back of his neck nervously. He was hoping you wouldn’t decide to ditch him after that.

You pretended to ponder the question for a moment, just to get a rise out of him. Maybe you took a few extra seconds because you were still bothered. You still couldn’t pinpoint why it had gotten under your skin so much. “I’ll see you next week, Weasley.”

Despite the bit of relief he had felt from that moment you still weren’t so cheery with him, and he tried to convince himself that maybe you’d just had a headache, you get like that sometimes when you do. Or maybe you just had a bad day to begin with and didn’t feel like hiding it anymore. He was grasping at straws to figure out a proper explanation for it but everything came circling back to his words.

He took your answer with a nod before apparating back to Hogwarts, unsure of how to perceive your tone this time. It left him to stew in his own regret that night and days to come until he saw you again.

—

Tags: @writeroutoftime

[shutupanakin]

Wasting Your Time Ch. 4

“Wh— what?” Tommy choked out, his voice hoarse from the lack of use all day.

The man rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t just ask a completely impolite question. “I said, do you have any booze?”

Tommy sat still. He reached into his jacket pocket, his hand finding only a plastic pen. Could he stab this man with a plastic pen?

Tommy pulled said piece of plastic out, visibly holding it up. “I have a pen.” Something about the bemused look on the man's face made Tommy click it, and again, repeatedly.

click click click click click click click click—

...

or; Tommy planned on dying. He meets Wilbur instead.

first chapter here and crossposted on ao3 here

Tommy had tripped on his way here.

Sam had gone to bed late. Tommy couldn’t hate him for it, because he had stayed up to try to talk to Tommy— he was trying. But Tommy had a place to be. He relied on Sam’s strict sleeping schedule for this. And god, did Tommy feel guilty for brushing him off, and saying he was tired and pretending to be asleep when he was really mapping out ways he could climb out of his fourth story window.

When he had heard the soft shut of Sam’s door, Tommy ran. He practically fell over himself trying to get out of the building.

Tommy booked it to the station. He practically bounced while getting his ticket. He was regretting not doing any sports while in school, because by the time Tommy had descended the stairs into the underground he was heaving for air. Tommy was on the last two steps when his foot caught on his untied shoelaces and he was sent face-first into the cement of the platform.

Luckily, Tommy didn’t fuck up his face, because he caught himself with his arms. Tommy bit back the pain and sprinted into the already immobile train, making it before the doors had closed on him.

Tommy fucking hated his luck, because when he entered, there was a man, sitting at the back of the train.

Not in his spot, three seats ahead of his and Wilburs row, but he was still… there… which made sense! Alright! It was public transport. Tommy knew he would have to run into this issue eventually. But this was just the fucking cherry on top of his fucked up sundae.

Tommy gave him a harsh glare— and deep down he felt bad, because the man hadn’t done anything wrong technically— before grabbing his seat, three rows behind. Hopefully, he’ll get off soon. The train was already moving again by the time Tommy settled in.

Tommy observed the damage he did to himself, finally being able to catch his breath. His jacket saved him from completely messing up his elbows, although the fabric had gotten marked up. His palms however were completely scraped. Tommy turned his eyebrows down, gnawing at the inside of his cheek. Tommy pulled the end of his sleeves over his palms. He’d wash them when he got home.

Tommy reached over, tying up his sneakers. He was in such a rush to get out of the flat that he had forgotten the simplest task. Tommy was practically still putting on his shoes when he left the apartment. He had run this entire way with no issue, of course the tube station stairs ended up being the thing that fucked him up. A guilty part of his brain wanted to blame Sam for this. He was the reason why Tommy was almost late. He was the reason why Tommy didn’t tie his shoes, and why his hands are now scraped up and why his knee is aching. Sam is the reason why Tommy sitting in a cold lecture room every week studying shit he doesn’t like and why Tommy was in a phone call with Tubbo Friday night not breathing because he had received a heavy email from his professor about a test he had failed—

Tommy shook his head. He wiped the tears that were forming away with his sleeve. He was alright. He was okay. That happened Friday. Tommy didn’t have class tomorrow. He could tuck that away for now and not have to think about it. He could ask his professor about extra credit. He could save this. For Sam, he could save this. For Sam.

Tommy didn’t want to be a fucking mess when Wilbur showed up. This was the best part of Tommy’s week. He couldn’t ruin it by having a breakdown, not right fucking now. Tommy leaned on the seat in front of him, placing his forehead against the plastic. Tommy pulled at his hair; he was alright. He can deal with this. He could ride this out and he would be alright.

“You look like shit,”

Tommy’s head shot up, turning at a quick speed to look to his left. Wilbur was standing there. Stupid hair. Stupid glasses. Stupid Reagan & Bush jumper covered up by his stupid brown coat. Tommy hadn’t realized they stopped. He peeked his head over the seat. The man didn’t leave. He would just have to deal with Tommy’s voice then.

Tommy laughed hollowly. “Hey, big man,” Tommy said, rubbing at his eyes. Wilbur sat down next to him. Not across, like the last three times. “I tripped.” He held up his palms, showing Wilbur the scraped-up skin. “My knee is also fucked.”

“Ouch,” Wilbur grimaced. “Are you okay?”

That was a simple question. Are you okay? It was three words. A common courtesy to ask someone who was injured. Tommy shouldn’t be breaking down the way he is over it.

Tommy hit his forehead against the back of the plastic seat. “No,” Tommy answered.

“Bad week?” Tommy nodded. “So that is why you look like shit.”

Tommy groaned. “You’re kicking a man while he’s down, Wilbur,” Tommy complained. “I had to run here. Sam went to bed late.”

“Your brother right?”

“Yeah,” Tommy grumbled. “He wanted to talk.”

“Talking to your family is healthy, Tommy.”

“He has bad timing,” Tommy scowled. “I needed to get here.”

“You blew him off for a stranger at a tube station?”

“You’re not a stranger,” Tommy dejected. “And… I didn’t blow him off. He was asking me about school— how I was enjoying my classes and shit.”

They stopped. The man three seats in front of him moved up, not before giving Tommy a nasty look. Tommy wasn’t in the mood to react.

“And you are not enjoying them,” Wilbur concluded. Right, as always.

“You read me like a fucking book don’t you?” Tommy snapped. “I hate them, man.”

“What are you studying?” Wilbur inquired.

“Architecture.”

“Architecture is cool.”

“No, it’s fucking not.” It was not, Tommy was starting to despise it. Everything was going in one ear and out the other.

“Then why are you studying it?”

“Because of Sam,” Tommy answered. “It’s what he did— is doing. He’s finishing his degree right now.”

Sam was supposed to finish it last year, in the states. But he had stopped his year to come back to England after the crash. Tommy was about to turn sixteen. He was in his last year of secondary school and Sam was still away. It was too early in the states to call him.

“Why are you doing what your brother wants you to do?”

“It makes him happy?” Tommy answered. “He loves that shit. I’ll put up with it if he thinks I love it too. Which sucks because I can’t tell him. I can’t talk to him about it because I—I… I’m going to flunk out!” Tommy cried. “I failed a test that was supposed to save my grade. I’m so fucking screwed, Wilbur.” Tommy put his head in his hands, pinching his nose. He was absolutely fucked and he couldn’t tell Sam because he would be so disappointed. Tommy couldn’t deal with that, he couldn’t. The disappointed frown he would give him, when he realized Tommy was bad at Sam’s life passion.

They stopped. The man left, being replaced by a younger one.

“It is not your job to make him happy,” Wilbur said softly. “Besides, I am sure he would be happier knowing you were enjoying what you are doing.”

“It is my job,” Tommy hissed. “I’m the reason he came back. He came back from the states because of me. Making it easier for him is the least I can do!”

And maybe Sam would, maybe Sam would be happier knowing Tommy was succeeding at what he loved instead of failing what he hated. But that was hypothetical.

“And what is making it easier for him, Tommy?” Wilbur pushed. “Flunking out of college? Do you think that is what he wants?”

“No!” Tommy snapped. “It’s—“

Well, it was dying.

That was his cop-out. That was always going to be his cop-out.

Because it made Sams life easier. Sam wouldn’t have to worry about supporting him anymore, Sam wouldn’t have to worry. He could go back to the states. Sam wouldn’t have Tommy anchoring him down. Sam wouldn’t have to worry about Tommy.

“Tommy,” Wilbur breathed. “I do not think Sam would be happy with you dying,”

Tommy didn’t understand how Wilbur read him so easily, was Tommy really that much of an open book?

If so, why couldn’t Sam read him like that?

“It would be easier for him,” Tommy mumbled. “He would grieve, alright? He’d be sad as shit. I expect that. But he could do so much more, he could have his life back!”

“What about your life, Tommy?” Wilbur snapped. “Are you willing to throw your life away on a maybe? On what you think he wants? On what other people want? What do you want, Tommy?”

“I don’t know!” Tommy expressed.

Tommy could punch him. Wilbur was right next to him. Tommy could push him over and leave at the next stop. Tommy would run, Wilbur would call for him, maybe, and Tommy wouldn’t listen.

They stopped.

Tommy didn’t get up.

“I don’t know what I want,” Tommy repeated. “I haven’t thought about that in a while.”

That was the truth, Tommy hadn’t. Since Sam came back, he’s tried to be easy. He tried not to argue, if Sam told him to do something Tommy did it.

“I—I’m not afraid of Sam, or anything,” Tommy continued. “He would never hurt me. He has never hurt me.” He assured. Wilbur was quiet, letting Tommy speak. “That’s not what I’m afraid of. I… I basically ruined his life, ya know? He came back here for me.”

“Has he told you that?”

“No!” Tommy defended.

“Then how can you possibly know he thinks that?”

Tommy didn’t respond. Because Tommy didn’t have an answer. He had just assumed. Tommy always guessed he was right when it came to Sam.

When they stopped again, Wilbur stood up, letting Tommy out. Tommy winced, putting weight on the leg with the not fucked up knee.

Wilbur, unfortunately, took notice of it as they exited the train. “That still hurts?”

“Yeah dickhead,” Tommy hissed through his teeth. “It still fucking hurts.”

Tommy rubbed at it. He could hide his scraped up hands from Sam, he could just shove them in his pockets. That was easy. Hopefully, his knee felt better by tomorrow, Tommy didn’t know how well he could hide a limp. If Sam were to even notice it.

“Want to go see Manifold again?” Wilbur asked. Tommy was grateful for the subject change.

“Always,” Tommy grumbled. “Who else am I supposed to buy tacky pins from?”

“Well, there is a convenience store in the opposite direction if you want to—“

“No, no!” Tommy cut him off. “I’m loyal now to Mr. Manifold— I cannot betray him like that.”

“So you do not think he is overpriced anymore?”

Tommy scoffed. “Nah. His prices still suck. But it’s called being a loyal customer, Wilbur.” Tommy emphasized.

When they came to the flickering neon sign, they unceremoniously stopped.

“Any requests this time?” Tommy asked, Wilbur shook his head.

“If there are no orcas it is a solid no from me.” Wilbur expressed. Tommy huffed, pushing open the door, the familiar sound of the bell ringing over his head.

Jack was slumped over on the counter, head in a book. He glanced up tiredly at Tommy approaching.

Jack yawned. “Hey Tommy,”

Tommy looked through the pin bowl. “Ow do?” Tommy greeted.

“Fucking tired, mate,” Jack yawned again.

“You should close earlier, man,” Tommy suggested, dropping a white sheep-shaped pin on the glass counter.

“Was gonna,” Jack grumbled, taking the pounds. “was waiting for you, actually.”

Tommy stiffened, furrowing his eyebrows. Jack was waiting for him?

“Oh,” Tommy managed out. “Sorry.” He said shortly.

Jack waved him off. “Ah, don’t worry about it. See you next week.”

Tommy secured the pin in his jacket. “See ya next week.” Tommy mirrored. “Try to get some sleep Jack!” He called.

Wilbur, of course, was waiting for him. “No orca?”

Tommy stifled a laugh. “No, sorry Will,” He pointed at the new sheep pin.

Wilbur scrunched up his nose, making a noise of disgust. “Sheep smell,”

“You smell!” Tommy retorted.

“I smell like nothing, thank you,” Wilbur said.

“I bet animals hate you.” Tommy chastised , Wilbur nodding in agreement.

“They do! I freak them out.”

“You freak me out.”

“Fuck off, fucking gremlin.” Wilbur poked.

Tommy used to have two dogs— when he had to move in with Sam, the building keeper already had a no animal policy, so of course, they refused to let them bring the two large canines into the two-bedroom flat with them.

Tommy remembered begging Sam to find a different place, to look at different flats. Sam’s hands were tied and Tommy didn’t get his way.

Tommy hoped they were happy in their new homes. Because Tommy wasn’t.

When Tommy and Wilbur boarded the tube, there was no one in the back this time, thank god, Tommy thought. Tommy had nearly lost it at the man that kept giving him nasty looks last time.

There was a teenager, maybe a little older than Tommy, at the front. They didn’t spare Tommy a glance.

Wilbur sat down next to him, adjusting his glasses. “Are you going to talk to your brother?”

No, Tommy was not circling back to this. “About what?”

Wilbur sighed in exasperation. “Tommy.”

“No, I’m not talking about this again.” Tommy refused. “Next subject. Next topic. Talk about something else, Wilbur.”

“I am pretty keen on talking about this, actually,”

“No,” Tommy asserted. “I’m not.”

“What would you like to study, Tommy?” Wilbur pushed. Tommy didn’t have the energy to push back.

“Editing,” Tommy sighed. “Like, film and stuff.”

“That is definitely better than architecture,”

“I know.” Tommy expressed. “I know that, Will! And I would be doing it if I could, but I can’t—“

“Because of Sam.” Wilbur finished, Tommy clapped his hands together.

“Yep! There you go, you got it!” Tommy patronized.

They stopped. The teenager left, but an older woman boarded in their place.

“I think you should switch studies,” Wilbur suggested. Tommy slapped his forehead, he wasn’t going to drop this.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not what Sam wants.”

Wilbur sighed. “You do not have to care about what other people want all the time, Tommy.”

“I don’t give a shit about what other people want! Just Sam!” Tommy defended.

“Really?” Wilbur taunted. “It seems that is the only thing you care about, each time you talk to me. Like Tubbo and Ranboo! You think about how just you living affects others, and it makes you want to stop!”

“What’s the point then?!” Tommy cried.

“Making everyone happy all the time is an impossible task,” Wilbur said. “Sometimes you have to deal with the fact that you can not just please everyone all the time.”

“Then what can I do?” Tommy groaned— Wilbur wasn’t giving him any answers.

“Make yourself happy. Do what you wanna do. Put your foot down to him, Tommy. Hell, grow a spine.”

The train slowed. No on or off.

“And what do I do if I lose Sam because of it?” Tommy asked.

“Sam is not going to hate you for pursuing what you enjoy, Tommy.”

“He might.”

“That is purely hypothetical. I did not hate my brother for doing fencing instead of music with me.”

“I’m not your brother.”

That sounded a lot harsher than Tommy meant it to. Tommy was just stating a fact. Something that they both knew was true. A fact. They couldn’t change that. Tommy couldn’t look at Wilbur’s expression. He picked at the thread to stop himself from digging his nails into his arm.

The I wish I was, went unsaid.

Maybe in another lifetime, they could’ve been. There, Tommy would’ve followed Wilbur to the end of the world. Perhaps Wilbur would sing him the songs he talked about writing.

This was unfortunately not that timeline.

Tommy had Sam, and he loved Sam, and it was unfair to treat him otherwise.

“I— I’m sorry,” Tommy stumbled, rubbing his face. “That was mean. I… I just don’t want to disappoint him, ya know?

They stopped, again. The older woman left. Two men and a woman boarded, laughing with each other. Tommy assumed they were drunk.

“It is okay,” Wilbur assured. There was no pain in his voice. “and yeah, I know. But you are miserable, Toms.” He said. “I do not think your brother wants you to be miserable either.”

“Well,” Tommy hesitated. “I mean. There is an alternative—“

“Not that.”

“Ugh, okay.”

“Tell your brother you do not enjoy architecture, okay? Then you can tell him that you are also failing it.”

“I don’t want to do that.” Tommy groaned.

“Would you rather he find out when you are kicked out of school?” Wilbur chided.

Tommy crossed his arms, leaning back into the hard plastic. “Good point,” Tommy murmured. “If you are wrong— I’m going to rub it in your face.”

“I am never wrong,” Wilbur remarked, confidently.

“You better fucking hope. If Sam grounds me and I’m still studying architecture by next week I am going to push you into the tracks, asshole.”

“You can try,” Wilbur jokes. “I do not think you will be very effective.”

“I’ll drag you with me,”

Wilburs stop was coming. Another night was closing.

He scooted out of the seat. “Let me know how it goes,” Wilbur hummed.

“If I don’t show up I’m either dead or grounded,” Wilbur chuckled; like it was a joke. It was not.

“See you next week Tommy.”

Tommy mumbled a good-bye, watching Will leave.

Tommy opened his palms. The stinging pain had subsided, the scrapes were still visible though. Tommy checked his sneakers, making sure the laces were still tied.

His palms weren’t the issue, though. His knee was. Maybe he could avoid Sam in the morning. Tommy didn’t have any classes tomorrow— he could tag in his room until Sam left. Tommy can do that. Then, Tommy could tell him that he had fallen down the stairs when he had gone outside for a walk. That was a lie that Tommy could spin.

On some level, Tommy felt guilty lying to him. Tommy just couldn’t tell him. He wasn’t necessarily lying, just narrowly avoiding the truth. He was just not telling.

When Tommy’s stop came, the drunken group at the front was calling for him. Tommy ignored them, he did however speed walk out the doors once they were open. Tommy rushed up the stairs, he didn’t see anyone follow him, but Tommy wanted to put distance between him and them. Tommy was not getting mugged. Nope. Fourth time doing this and he hasn’t gotten jumped. Tommy was not breaking that—

Tommy’s foot slipped, missing the step by an inch. By an inch! Tommy caught himself on the railing, not before hitting his sore knee on the cement stairs.

“Mother FUCKER—“

[ravensmind]

Happy RobRae week 2021! Here's my day 1 prompt fic. There will be an extended smuttier version coming soon. Might only do this prompt this year just due to things I have going on, but I'm still writing! Hope you enjoy this 😃.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13863436/1/Finals-and-a-First

~RavensMind~

RobRae week 2021 

Day 1: Gotham Academy AU

Finals and a First

Finals week. Two simple words that had the power to make anyone quake with anxiety and while he may do a good job of hiding it, Dick Grayson was no exception. Luckily for him, he had a solid group of friends who had each other’s backs. They mostly studied as a group when they were free, unless their class schedule or extracurricular activity demanded they improvise. Gotham Academy was not known for caring about its students' friendships or whether they had free time to study together or not. Dick was on the football team and they did not have practice that day, so he was free, but Victor, Kori, Garfield, and Tara were all at meets or practices or matches or just in class, only Rachel was able to study with him, and that presented a challenge. Dick was enamored with Rachel, infatuated with Rachel, could not stop thinking about Rachel, and she had no idea because he just could. Not. Tell. Her. 

Even though Rachel Roth, the quiet, reserved, sarcastic, smart, violet-haired girl was sitting only inches away from him at the same table in the library, he could not look at her, as he had some paranoid feeling that she knew exactly how he felt when he looked at her. Normally, he would play off of his other friends, but now they were alone. He hid in his textbook, pretending to be very interested in some words located near the spine of the book in some rose colored block of text. Out of frustration with his own inner turmoil, he picked up the noble they’d been assigned to read and chucked it into a nearby bookcase.

“Are you okay?” Rachel asked in a frustrated tone.

“Yeah, I’m fine, why?” Dick returned.

"You’re just not usually this quiet, is all,” she replied.

“Guess I’m just nervous,” he said.

“About our finals?” 

“Yeah,” he said, thanking the universe for that excuse.

“I didn’t think you got nervous over stuff like this, at least I don’t think I’ve seen it. Wait ‘till this gets out, the chill, cool captain of the football team is freaking over his final,” she teased.

“But you wouldn’t tell anyone, right?”

“No. Lucky you, I don’t think anyone would believe me.”

“That the only reason you wouldn’t say anything?”

“No, because I don’t know that I believe you either,” she replied, toying with a strand of her hair with one of her slim, almost pale fingers.

Dick chanced a look at her and was surprised to see a playful smirk on her face and a strange look in her violet eyes that he was not sure he had seen before. He tensed a little when he realized he had slipped up and looked at her. Did she know? Was he screwed? The last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable and get on her bad side. She had enough trouble dealing with the gossip and judgmental teachers for her goth vibe and overall lack of shits to give attitude.

At one point, he heard Rachel had been summoned to the dean’s office for violating the dress code by wearing black knee highs over fishnets and foregoing the standard blue skirt for a black one. Her response was that technically she was in compliance, as there was no rule about a specific color skirt, or that she could not wear anything in addition to the socks on her legs, and she was a model student. Aside from snapping at a teacher or two, she was rarely in trouble, and he knew she had good grades. She still kept that style, even though more teachers voiced their disapproval, but they ultimately could not do anything without changing the dress code and it was not worth it. After he heard about what happened, Dick helped her out by changing the color tie and slacks he wore from blue to black, as his popularity would make her style choice far less controversial. He had mostly done it to help her, but he also liked being seen as more of a rebel. He stuck up for her when she was being picked on and she was always quick to shut down anyone who was bad-mouthing him.They had grown a bit closer as a result, though neither really acknowledged it to the other. 

He swallowed and considered what his options would be if she dug deeper. He hoped that he could talk his way out of whatever accusation she was about to make. He shifted in his chair and cleared his throat.

“What makes you say that?” he asked.

“Hmm. Well, you’ve never really stressed about tests before. When Gar complains, you calm him down and put together a plan to study, so I’m pretty sure you’re more level-headed,” she replied.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not nervous.”

“No, but I think it’s less likely that it’s about the exams. Now that I think about it… you kind of acted like this last time we hung out. Maybe it’s about one of us,” she thought aloud.

“Like I said, I’m nervous about finals. It’s, uhh, just been a lot for me this time. It’s our last year and I don’t want Bruce to be harder on me if I don’t measure up,” he said, injecting a little truth, desperately hoping it would help sell his lie.

“I suppose that’s fair, but I still don’t think it’s that.”

“Why’s it matter? It’s not like I’m hiding anything that would hurt people. I’m just stressed!”

“You’re hiding plenty, but that’s not the point. It matters,” she hesitated before continuing, “because I don’t like seeing you stressed. It’s like I can feel it and I want to help you. Something’s clearly eating at you and I hate seeing you try and bury it like it’s not there.”

He sighed and looked  down at his book. He stared down at the page as he felt the swelling of emotions that rose from his heart. He wanted to spill everything, but knew that it would not be fair to her, to dump everything at once and give her a massive choice to make about them. He cared about her and she clearly cared about him, so he thought he might be able to at least give her a hint or two. She was dealing with more than enough, she didn’t need his problems too.

“Okay...don’t laugh. It’s about a girl,” he said.

Rachel perked up and tilted her head. Dick swore her eyes lit up, but that may have just been a trick of the light as someone passed by the window near them, book in hand. 

“I’m not going to laugh! What’s making you so nervous? I seriously doubt you’d ever need to be stressing over a girl, plenty throw themselves at you, though I guess that could be tough too.”

“She’s different. I like her, but she’s never really said if she likes me or not. I hang out with her quite a bit and we have fun, or I think we do. I'm just not sure if I want to take a chance and mess up a good thing.”

“You’re being ridiculous.. Clearly she likes you enough to spend time with you, you should have had some kinda obvious sign by now. Some girls tease you or act a certain way around you, others might be more blunt, but you have to know at this point. Though, it would help if you said who she is,” she teased knowingly.

“Hah, yeah, it is a little silly,” he chuckled, “You wouldn’t tell her though?”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m interested, I need to get ready for the big reveal, lots of pyro and speakers to set up,” she replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes, “No, of course not, idiot. You know you can trust me. Why the secrecy, though? Is it... Kori?”

She leaned forward with interest, almost teetering on the edge of her seat.

“No, uh, but you’re kinda close,” he said, anxiously shifting in his chair.

He watched as she went quiet and crossed her legs in her chair, sitting up a bit straighter as she considered the possible remaining options. He hoped she had thought of herself first.

“I admit, I could see why you’d like Tara, she’s pretty easy to talk to and knows what she likes, which isn’t common,” she said, tracing her bottom lip with her finger, “I think she can be a little insecure though, so you may want to keep that in mind.”

He wondered to himself if she was toying with him.

“It’s uhh, it’s not Tara, either,” he admitted, his cheeks turning red.

Rachel’s cheeks also reddened as her mouth formed a coy smile, and she went quiet. Her fingers played with the edge of a page in her textbook as she looked away from Dick toward the door before snapping back so her eyes met his.

“Oh. So, I think if you like her, you really should say something. I’m not sure if I know *exactly* how she feels, but I’d want to hear you say how much you like me. I’d like to know how I made you feel… if I was her,” she teased.

“Are you sure? I uhh, I’d hate if I came on to her too strongly, she’d shut me down and it would mess with the friendship she and I had,” he asked, undoing his tie and opening his school blazer a little. He was feeling very warm all of a sudden.

“I don’t think she would let that happen, Dick,” she replied, leaning closer to him, “You should probably tell me who she is...so I have a better idea.”

He took a deep breath and smiled at her, letting the moment last, enjoying the hopeful, expectant look on her face.

“Her name is Rachel,” he said, edging closer to her.

Dick felt his heart pounding in his chest and he swore his face was burning as they both got closer to each other, until his lips were inches from Rachel’s. Neither looked around to see who else in the library might be watching, and the idea that anyone else even existed was as distant as another planet. Her eyes closed as she pressed her lips to his and he eagerly kissed her back, hardly believing this was happening. Their heated kiss was interrupted by the sound of the librarian reprimanding a classmate of theirs at another table on the other side of a bookcase. Rachel smiled at him, biting her lip while she studied his face for a moment.

“That. Is what you get when you tell the truth,” she said.