#and please excuse me for writing in elementary school level

[ryllen]

Please read this by putting it through google translate image translation feature on phone and cry with me,

or i can summarize it to you

"Why does human help the weak?" [ You just do it automatically, don't u think? ] - Kalim [ I was taught to do so. ] - Deuce [ Helping others is a beautiful thing. ] - Rook [ It's a natural for the strong to help the weak. ] - Riddle

[ It's just human's instinct of wanting to survive together, is it not? ] - Trey Jade finds it weird, because in the sea, no thought will be given to the weak. The strongest will survive. Call it an ego on land if you want, but that is how it has always been in that big pool of deep never ending water.

Jade is a mermaid type who is rather sensitive when turned into human. Walking with legs feel like walking on knives for him. To counter that problem, he always had his transforming potion mixed with a lot amount of pain killers.

One time he started to feel pain on his feet, he refused to be helped as he is fixated of being a strong creature & not wanting to be positioned as something weak. When he finally let trey helped him, he kept asking if there's any compensation he had to pay for having Trey helped him. "It is just pure kindness for underclassman", Trey said. Having it not sitting right on him, Jade told Trey his secret about his human legs' sensitivity problem as a form of payment. "That's too much information for that price." "Such critical thing! I never tell anyone that information as it would endanger my life!" "So.., are you telling me because you trust me?"

"No. I am telling you because I want (to keep receiving) that pure goodwill from you, my senior."

"That's an unnatural & greedy remark from a benevolent Octavinelle's student. Such a bad boy, Jade." Trey touched Jade's face in soft scolding manner & it made the mermaid quietly flustered with feeling he never knew he could felt before. Finding Trey's affection dear to him, at some other time later, he pretended that his feet hurts. And he lied about not bringing any pain killers with him. Trey who was wary about lying Jade, used his magic to overwrite the pain on Jade's feet, so he could walk by himself. But Jade sulked. Because, rly, he just wants to be carried by Trey again. Sensing this, Trey gave in, and carried Jade on his back, pleasing him.

Previously seeing Trey danced with Cater & Rook at other events, Jade invited Trey to go to an abandoned castle. He asked him to dance with him.

"I want to look good in front of you. But I'm not good at dancing," Trey said.

"Good." Jade replied with a smile, happy with his awkwardness. "I am not familiar with human's dance either."

They started to dance. And flirted a little. "Your eye is like olive." (Typical TREY) And when they were about to kiss, 3 overblot ghosts broke in.

"'ll take responsibility" Jade said, instantly feeling responsible as he was the one who brought them there. He managed to defeat one of the ghost. But in the middle of battle, the usual pain started to seep in to Jade's feet. For real, this time. His legs gave out.

With 2 overblot ghosts left still, Trey put himself into the middle of the fight. "I don't have enough magic to both overwrite your pain & defeat these overblot ghosts at the same time. So, run away while I try to hold them back."

Jade started to think how unacceptable it is that he is protected by someone who is supposed to be weaker than him. He should have been the one protecting Trey as mermaid is a stronger being, however he is nothing but a hindrance right now. Trey would even win the fight if it was not because of him.

So Jade found a way. He made noise to get the overblot attention's. He directed them to him so he could take them out by letting the chandelier fall over all of them together, including him. He was so ready to be crushed & took all those responsibility with him.

But, of course, Trey can't have that! Trey saved Jade at the last minute. He pushed Jade away, so the chandelier missed him. But in consequence, Trey had his legs broken as they were the ones that got crushed by the chandelier, instead -- together with the remaining overblot ghosts.

Jade who still didn't realize the situation, said "... Oh. That's too unreasonable to suddenly jump in, under the chandelier and come..." "I can't help it."

Jade slowly turned his head.

"It's too easy to want to help the person you love." "...So let me help you out." The horror of the current situation finally creeped to Jade's face.

"T-TREY-SAN! TREY-SAN!!!!!!!"

[ What do i do now?? What do i do??? ]

"Go, return by yourself even without me..."

Jade started to think of all his options. Phone? out of range. Magic? Out of the question, he just realized that his magic gem is now broken. The only mirror to come back to the school was at the foot of the mountain, while the castle they were in was at the very top of it.

[ Carry this person on your back. ] The voice in his head said...

"Carry this person on my back--?" he turned his head, and suddenly imagined the path of 'knives' he had to step on to go back. Not alone even.., but together with this person. ...The additional weight surely would pressed his feet harder to the ground, causing even more pain.

Trembling from the thought of the pain, Jade thought... "This is bad..., I only have one more painkiller...."

He took out that single pain killer in his pocket, and put into his mouth, seemingly ready and prepared to walk; at least a few steps back without pain. But no, he refused to do so. Trey is wounded. He must experience pain too right now. Lips-to-lips, he gave the wounded Trey the painkiller & let him swallow it.

"I'll help you now..." Jade said, repaying on Trey's deed & now walking back without painkiller, with his dear senior on his back.

His feet hurts. So badly that he started to bit his lips & let them bleed. The sudden thought of wild animals attacking them in this situation, made him shuddered.

Near them, he spotted a good running river.

...

[ I can just abandoned this person... and jump into the river. ...With that I can easily reach the foot of the mountain. ... With that, I can become a strong creature again, not the helpless one like what I am right now. ]

...

For a second Jade lost in thought of abandoning the weak like what the sea always taught him to do. But then, reminiscing how Trey carried him at that crucial time when he needed him to, he said to himself...

"No. That doesn't matter... "

"Because right now ..., I am helping him out of pure love."

And so, he kept enduring, until Idia who wandered at night to get his late night snack from the school's vending machine, found them who successfully came back, fainted at the hallway.

--

Time passed.

--

...

"Jade refuses to walk for awhile now." Floyd said, guiding Trey further inside to the longue. It might be because that event; so traumatic & painful, that Jade just wanted to forget entirely about walking all together. Or maybe it was out of guilt, for him being the reason that Trey had to be confined in the hospital room to recover & not being able to go anywhere. That's why, Jade isolated himself in the glass wall as a way to punish himself & share the same feeling with Trey.

"Sorry for the trouble." Trey replied, pushing his wheelchair with his hands.

"It's okay. It's Jade's own fault." Floyd replied, nonchalantly. Just like he always been. Oddly comforting, at the current situation. "Jade, sea turtle is here~~"

There he is. Jade, swimming in his mermaid form. Their eyes met. Seeing Trey sitting on a wheel chair, his eyes, glistened.

--

"So will your legs heal?" Jade was still in his mermaid form. He perched on surface of the longue's glass wall he was in, to talk to Trey.

"Yes."

"It's not just the bone fractures, right? It's also the ability to walk, right?"

"Of course."

...

Jade was relief. But he was still burdened with other feelings from the incident.

" --- IF I NEVER MET you, after graduating, I would have returned to the sea and keep being a strong creature forever....." "I am so scared and feeling so pathetic......."

...

Trey reminiscing the moment Jade carried him on his back, while enduring the tremendous pain on his feet, said, "You are...? At that time though, you looked like the strongest person in the world to me..." He patted Jade's head, consoling him.

Jade was relieved once again. " ... Trey-san ... " But it seems that this mermaid still has something in his mind...

"...When you risked your life, and let yourself be crushed under the chandelier..., was it all just because of the natural instinct inhabits in your body, OR-"

He didn't finish his question, and yet Trey answered. "It's because, I like you."

...

Jade proceeded to come out of the water, having his tail transformed to legs, once again after a long while. He approached Trey who sat there still with his immobilized legs.

"...I never thought I would ever need my legs again... He gazed Trey in the eyes. "But it is necessary...." "...There are a lot of things I want to do with you, with these legs..."

"...Many..."

And they both shared a kiss, which became the start of everything else.

[carousel-anon-aka-alexander]

Alex’s POV.

Look, I didn’t want to be an high school senior, I was hoping my mom could write me a note:

“Dear whoever, please excuse Alexander from school forever and just give him the diploma. Thanks, Odysseus”

I figured I’d earned that much after battling gods and monsters since I was seven years old. I’d help everyone… three times? Four? I’ve lost count. You don’t need the details. I’m not sure I even remember them at this point.

Maybe you’re thinking, but wow! You’re the son of a Greek hero! That must be amazing!

Honest truth? Most of the time, being a Greek blows chunks. Anybody who tells you different is trying to recruit you for a quest.

So there I was, stumbling down the hallway on my first morning of classes at a new high school—yay. My textbooks were spilling out of my arms, and I had no idea where to find my third-period English class. Math and biology had already melted my brain. I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it to the end of the day.

Then a voice cracked over the loudspeaker: “Alexander Ithacus, please report to the counselor’s office.”

At least none of the other students knew me yet. Nobody looked at me and laughed. I just turned, all casual-like, and meandered back toward the administration wing.

Alternative High is housed in a former elementary school in Queens. That means kiddie-size desks and lockers, so you have to carry all your stuff from class to class. Down every hall, I could find cheery reminders of the school’s former childhood—smudges of finger paint on the walls, unicorn stickers peeling off the fire extinguishers, the occasional ghostly whiff of fruit juice and graham crackers…

AHS takes anybody who needs to finish their high school career. It doesn’t matter if you are coming back from juvie, or have severe learning differences, or happen to be an emperor with really bad luck. It is also the only school in the New York area that would admit me for my senior year and help me make up all the course credit I lost.

On the bright side, it has a swim team and an Olympic-size pool (no idea why), so my dad, Tiresias, thought it might be a good fit for me. I promised him I’d try.

I’d also promised my girlfriend, Nausicaa. The plan was that I’d graduate on time so we could go to college together. I didn’t want to disappoint her. The idea of her going off to college without me kept me up at night…

I found the counselor's office in what must've once been the school infirmary. I deduced that from a painting on the wall of a sad purple frog with a thermometer in its mouth.

"Mr. Ithacus! Come in!"

The guidance counselor came around her desk, ready to shake my hand. Then she realized I had six thousand pounds of textbooks in my arms.

"Oh, just put those down anywhere," she said. "Please, have a seat!"

She gestured to a blue plastic chair about a foot too low for me. Sitting in it, I was eye level with the jar of Jolly Ranchers on her desk.

"So!" The counselor beamed at me from her comfy-looking, adult-size chair. Her bottle-thick glasses made her eyes swim. Her gray hair was curled into scalloped rows that reminded me of an oyster bed. "How are you settling in?"

"The chair's a little short."

"I mean at school."

Well, I've only had two classes-"

"Have you started on your college applications?"

"I just got here."

"Exactly! We're already behind!"

I glanced at the purple frog, who looked as miserable as I felt. "Look, Ms.—"

"Call me Eudora," she said cheerfully. "Now, let's see what brochures we have."

She rummaged through her desk. "Poly Tech. BU. NYU. ASU. FU. No, no, no."

I wanted to stop her. My temples were throbbing. My ADHD was pinging around under my skin like billiard balls. I couldn't think about college today.

"Ma'am, I appreciate your help," I said. "But, really, I've kinda already got a plan. If I can just get through this year—"

"Yes, New Rome University," she said, still digging through her desk drawer. "But the mortal counselor doesn't seem to have a brochure."

My ears popped. I tasted salt water in the back of my throat.

"The mortal counselor?"

My hand drifted toward the pocket of my jeans, where I kept my weapon. This wouldn't have been the first time I'd had to defend myself from an attack at school. You'd be amazed how many teachers, administrators, and other school staff are monsters in disguise. Or maybe you wouldn't be amazed.

"Who are you?" I asked.

She sat up and smiled. "I told you. I'm Eudora." I studied her more closely. Her curled hair was in fact a bed of oysters. Her dress shimmered like a jellyfish membrane.

It’s weird how the Mist works. Even for me, who sees supernatural stuff all the time, you have to concentrate to pierce the barrier between the human world and the godly one. Otherwise, the Mist just kind of plasters over what you see, making ogres look like pedestrians or a giant drakon look like the N train (And believe me, it’s embarrassing trying to board a drakon when one rampages into the Astoria Boulevard station.)

It’s weird how the Mist works. Even for me, who sees supernatural stuff all the time, you have to concentrate to pierce the barrier between the human world and the godly one. Otherwise, the Mist just kind of plasters over what you see, making ogres look like pedestrians or a giant drakon look like the N train (And believe me, it’s embarrassing trying to board a drakon when one rampages into the Astoria Boulevard station.)

“What did you do with the regular counselor?” I asked.

Eudora waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t worry about her. She couldn’t help you with New Rome. That’s why I’m here!”

Something about her tone made me feel… not reassured, exactly, but at least not personally threatened. Maybe she only ate other guidances counselors.

Her presence felt familiar too—the Aaron Burr tingle in my nostrils, the pressure in my ears as if I were a thousand feet underwater. I realized I’d encountered someone like her before… when I was twelve years old, near a lake…

“You’re a sea spirit,” I said. “A nereid.”

Eudora chuckled. “Yes, of course, Alex. Did you think I was a dryad?”

“So… my father sent you?”

She raised an eyebrow, as if she was starting to worry I might be a bit slow on the uptake. Weirdly, I get that look a lot.

“Yes dear, Odysseus. Your mother? My boss? Now, I’m sorry I can’t find a brochure, but I know you’ll need all the usual requirements for New Rome University: Test scores, official transcripts, and an up-to-date psycho-educational evaluation. Those aren’t a problem.”

“They aren’t?” After all I’d been through, it might’ve been too early to judge on that last one.

But you’ll also need a few, ah, special entry requirements.”

The taste of salt water got sharper in my mouth. “What special requirements?”

“Has anyone talked to you about divine recommendation letters?” She looked like she really wanted the answer to be yes.

“No.” I said.

She fiddled with her jar of Jolly Ranchers. “I see. Well. You’ll need three letters. From three different gods. But I’m sure for a person of your talents—“

“What?”

Eudora flinched. “Or we could look at some backup schools. Ho-Ho-Kus Community College is very nice!”

“Are you kidding me?”

The Nereid’s face started to glisten. Rivulets of salt water trickled from her oyster-bed hair. I felt bad about getting angry. This wasn’t her fault. I knew she was only trying to help me because my mom had ordered her to. Still, it wasn’t the kind of news I wanted to deal with on a Monday morning. Or ever.

I steadied my breathing, “Sorry, it’s just… I need to get into New Rome. I’ve done a lot of stuff for the gods over the years. Can’t I just, like, e-mail them a recommendation form…?”

Eudora’s eyebrows knotted. Her dress was not sloughing off sheets of saltwater. A pool of it spread across the green-tile floor, seeping ever closer to my textbooks.

I sighed, “Ugh. I have to do new quests, don’t I?”

“Well, dear, the college admissions process is always challenging, but I’m here to help—“

“How about this?” I said. “If my mother really wants to help, maybe he should explain this to me himself, rather than sending you here to break the bad news.”

“Oh. Well, that would be, um—“

“Out of character,” I agreed.”

Something buzzed in Eudora’s hairdo (shell-do?), making her jump. I wondered if maybe she’d gotten an electric eel stuck in her oyster bed, but then she plucked out one of the shells. “Excuse me. I have to take this.”

She put the shell to her ear. “Hello?.. Oh, yes, sir! I…Yes, I understand. Of course. Right away.”

She set the shell on the desk and stared at it, as if afraid it might ring again.

“Mom?” I guessed.

She tried for a smile. The saltwater lake was still spreading across the office floor, soaking my textbooks, seeping through my shoes.

“He thinks you might be right,” Eudora said. “He’ll explain this to you in person.”

She said in person the way most teachers say in detention.

I tried to act cool, like I had won an argument, but my mom and I hadn’t talked in… a while. He usually only brought me underwater when a war was about to start. I was hoping maybe he’d give me a week to settle in at school before he summoned me.

“Great. So… I can go back to class?”

“Oh, no, dear. He means now.”

Around my feet, the water swirled into a whirlpool. The tiles began to crack and dissolve.

“But don’t worry,” Eudora promised. “We’ll meet again!”

The floor dropped out from under my chair, and I plunged into a churning maelstrom with a thunderous FLUSH!

I fucking love this thank you so much for writing it ahhhhhhhhhh I can't wait to see what happens next!

[heartcal]

“who do you believe?”; l.h.

Disclaimer: i didn’t want to write sierra as a bad person because i personally cannot see that, and i know there’s some discourse about her within in the fandom but i don’t want any of that here! so i named the girlfriend after a girl who bullied me in elementary school lol (but another disclaimer: i do not want to see any hate towards the boys’ s/o! pls don’t send any asks that talks bad about them, i will not answer them!)

thank you for requesting! :^)

a/n: while transfering this from microsoft word, the formatting kept screwing up for some reason so if there are some janky paragraphs, i apologize! not too comfortable with this one compared to my previous fic (this feels rushed) but it is long and i did not mean for that to happen lol. enjoy!

if there are any mistakes, please tell me!

pairing(s): not really a mention of luke hemmings x reader but it’s mostly luke hemmings x named gf (rachel/oc) (gender neutral but if i slipped up, please let me know!)

summary: having known luke for years, it was bound to happen eventually. the crush you developed happened before you could stop it, and you did your best to keep it a secret. you told no one, did your best not to show it, so what do you do when his girlfriend finds out?

genre: angst, and mostly angst >:^)

warnings: swearing, luke’s gf being mean, bullying?

wc: 4,057 (she’s a long one)

my masterlist!

You don’t know when it happened, or frankly how it happened, but one thing is for sure: you don’t want to feel this way.

Was it when he bought you a stuffed animal version of a pet you had as a kid, one that you remember so fondly and still tear up about it to this day? Or was it when he would always bring back a certain candy you can only find in its country of origin, and bring as much as customs would allow? Maybe it was when he printed out every photo he could find from the beginning of your friendship to the present day (at that time) and made a scrapbook for your birthday since you cherish memories?

Whatever memory it was, you want to track it down and destroy it. It wasn’t fair that you developed such strong feelings for your best friend, knowing he doesn’t feel the same since he’s taken.

It’s not that he isn’t attractive – far from that because if anything, you wish you could draw just so you can draw him because there’s no way someone can look that good – but it’s more of the fact that he’s your best friend, someone you hold dear to you.

You two grew up together; saw each other’s worst phases, styles, and embarrassing moments (it was well documented towards the middle of the scrapbook). He was with you when you went through bad break-ups, and you with him. Throughout school, you two were inseparable, and when the band got big he made sure to keep you close and to never lose contact. It was hard in the beginning but you two managed.

Now finished with college, you’ve taken on the role of working with the team when they’re on tour and helping plan aesthetics for the next album. He offered the jobs after you struggled to find a job after graduation, and in the end, you enjoyed being with the guys and doing the tasks needed.

Tonight, the band was set to play their new album to an intimate crowd. It was to welcome back old fans and welcome new fans, introducing both sides to a new sound they worked hard on. You couldn’t be any more proud.

You sat on the couch as the guys walked around the room, pepping themselves up and hyping each other. You had finished doing your tasks with the crew and spent your free time watching the band prepare as the audience began to fill in the theater seats.

A nudge on your arm makes you direct your eyes from Michael styling his hair with a nervous expression to the person on your left.

“What’s up?” you asked, smiling at the curly-haired individual.

Luke shrugs, glancing around the room before his eyes land back on you. He has a small smile on his face as he leans back onto the couch, “Nothing.”

You scoff, shaking your head with a smile, “Yeah, sure, ‘nothing,’” you mimic, tilting your head to the side, “I doubt that.”

“What do you want me to say?”

You give him an incredulous look, crossing your arms as you turn to face him. You can tell he’s nervous, like the rest of the team and the band, but he won’t admit it. He’s always wanted others to view him as strong and unbothered, especially when those around him feel off.

He mirrors your position, a smirk on his lips because he knows you’re about to lecture him.

And he’s right.

“Your band has a new album out in a couple of days—an album you guys have worked hard on even when your management gave you shit, mind you—and you’re about to perform a majority of the songs in front of 500. Are you not nervous?”

He shakes his head, smugly smiling as he returns to his position leaning against the couch, watching Ashton dry the wet ends of his hair.

“Liar,” you mumble, uncrossing your arms and taking your phone out to check the time.

“Alright,” Luke sighs, giving in, “maybe I’m a little nervous, but I’m not a wreck.”

He’s still a liar. The success of their last album was astounding, so creating an album to reach that level and hopefully top it was hard enough. Playing it in front of an intimate crowd who may or may not like it was tough.

Luke isn’t cocky. He’s a humble man, but he likes to joke around in stressful situations. He’s used to concerts, so he doesn’t have any anxiety when it comes to performing. But when he is nervous for any reason, he won’t show it. He’ll act cool, completely collected with his head held high in confidence. If he needs to relieve the stress, he’ll either do it himself with a strong pep talk, or he’ll go to you.

“What are you nervous about?” You ask, wanting to make him feel better.

“Will they like it? Will it even chart? Is it too bold?” he continues listing out his insecurities about the album and the performance, finally lifting everything off his chest.

And you listen. The way his eyes stare into yours with slight confidence, covered by worry makes your heart sore. Luke’s kept everything inside and now that he’s listing his grievances, it makes you wonder just what else you can get out of him that he’s kept buried inside.

However, before you can give him your insight on this particular problem, “Luke!”

His head immediately turns to the door, the worry in his eyes fading out into sheer happiness and adoration. Something you’ve always wanted to see directed towards you.

Luke stands arms wide as he captures his girlfriend in his arms for a hug. Her arms wrap around his waist as his arms go around her shoulders, dipping his head down to kiss her on the head.

“I can’t believe you made it!” you hear him speak with excitement, expressing more words of happiness as he guides her to another part of the room.

You don’t miss the way her eyes glare in your direction, and you’re not afraid to give her a look back.

Rachel was nice when you met her. You actually liked her, despite your crush on Luke, and you were rooting for the two. But, a couple months ago during a stressful week, she turned on you. Her attitude towards you shifted, almost as if you had disrespected her and her bloodline. She would always act as if you weren’t in the room, and when plans were made with the boys, she would “accidentally” leave you out. It was embarrassing for you when you’d find out your friends went out, calling you to find out why you didn’t come. Due to the embarrassment, you would go along with it, making up some excuse as to why you were absent.

None of the boys, to your knowledge at least, have caught on to her antics, and you honestly hope they don’t. Whatever it is you did to her, you want to find out for yourself so you can fix it.

With a sigh, you stand from the couch, stretching your arms briefly before wandering to Calum, who stood in the shower room connected to the dressing room.

“Hey,” you greeted him with a warm smile.

He smiles back, finishing his drink before tossing the plastic cup in the trash. He grabs his bass, which was placed on the counter, and holds it out to you.

“You want me to see if it sounds out of tune?” you jokingly ask.

He nods, “Yeah, I feel like one of the chords might be flat.”

You chuckle as you pluck a random chord. His instruments are always tuned before it’s time to play. One of his pre-show nervous ticks was the constant doubt of his instruments being playable.

“It’s fine, Calum.”

The doubt shows on his face as he brings his guitar back to himself, putting it on and checking the chords himself, but it doesn’t last long as Ashton’s voice calls everyone to the center of the room.

Walking with Calum to where the rest of the crew was, you notice how attached Luke was to Rachel. Joint at the hip, arms wrapped around each other; it was annoying.

“Show starts in ten,” Ashton gains your attention, holding up a cup as Michael hands Calum a similar cup before doing the same to Luke. The three follow the drummer’s action as he continues, “let’s make this show fuckin’ awesome.”

The crew cheers, dying down quickly as Michael gives his thoughts, “We worked our asses off for this album, I don’t have any doubts about it. We got this, guys!”

The cheers resume as those with a drink take a celebratory sip before placing their empty cup on a surface near them.

Calum leaves your side to join Michael while Ashton heads to you.

“You excited?” he asks, putting his right arm around your shoulders with a large smile.

“Yeah!” you return the smile, “What about you? Nervous like the others?”

He shakes his head, crinkling his nose, “I’m not too nervous. I’m just happy to play again.”

You’re about to ask him what song he was the most excited to play, starting to get into the conversation but yet again you are interrupted by Rachel.

“Hey, Ash,” she greets him, Luke following close behind her as his arms make their way back around her shoulders again.

“Hi, Rachel,” Ashton nods his head at her – his eyes dance to Luke briefly before returning to Rachel’s, “didn’t think you’d make it.”

“Couldn’t miss your big show,” she smiles, looking up at her boyfriend as she pats his stomach.

Luke laughs, gently pushing her hand away from him, “I’m surprised, too—“ he grabs the guitar a crew member hands him, left arm lifting itself from Rachel’s shoulder as he slips the strap over his head, “—because her schedule did not look clear enough, but here she is.”

“Three minutes,” a different crew member rushes out, patting Luke and Ashton’s shoulders before rushing to tell the others.

“See you after,” Luke shifts his guitar away from Rachel before leaning down to kiss her on the lips – something you wish you didn’t see – and turning around to head out of the dressing room.

Ashton gives you a quick hug, “Excited for the lights,” he mumbles in your ear before turning to Rachel to give her a side hug.

It doesn’t go unnoticed how Rachel’s eyes glared at you by Ashton, but he doesn’t mention it as he heads out with the other guys towards the stage.

As a majority of the crew follow them out, you stay behind to clean up the empty cups and other trash, trying to occupy yourself as Rachel too stayed behind.

Her eyes followed you as you moved about the room, carrying the small plastic bag with you as it fills up with cups and wrappers. You could feel the glare burning into your side and back as you paid her no mind.

When it was just you two left, the bass from their opening song was heard and felt as you finished picking up the garbage.

“For how long have you liked Luke?”

You froze. Your head whipped towards Rachel, wide-eyed as you glanced around the room to make sure it was just the two of you.

“What…what are you talking about?” You can feel an extreme warmth rising up from the bottom of your back, all the way to your face, nervousness clouding your brain as she stares you down.

“Luke—,” she crosses her arms and moves to the couch, “how long have you liked Luke?”

“I don’t—I,” you stutter, your stomach dropping as you realize you’ve been caught.

His girlfriend knows you like him.

“Cut the bullshit,” she spits, “I can see it. You’ve been friends with him for years, you obviously caught feelings for him.”

You shake your head, standing up straight to give off the illusion of confidence. Turning your back to her and towards the door, “I don’t have to talk to you.”

You opted for walking out of the dressing room and go watch the band from the side of the stage, but you made a quick stop in the bathroom to splash cold water on your face.

You did what you could to avoid her during their performance. You knew she was watching you, seething at how you ended the conversation so fast.

Rachel wanted to break you down, find the reason why you like him and separate you two for as long as it takes to make him fall in love with her. She finds you a problem in their relationship because of how close you and Luke are, because of how long you’ve known each other. A threat to her and her relationship.

An hour and a half later, the show is finished and the whoops and cheers from the crowd indicate the album was very well received. That thought swept the interaction with Rachel from earlier under the rug as the boys’ adrenaline spread throughout the crew.

Ashton was first to greet you, sweaty and ready to envelop you in a hug but you’re quick to avoid it, ducking down just as his arms closed around the space where your head was. He laughs it off, heading for his next victim.

Next was Calum, who grabbed a drink from Andy and gulped it down. He had a smile on his face after, only growing wider when he saw you. “I think they liked it!”

“Bass in tune, huh?” you return, patting his back as he passes you to go to the next person.

Michael is the third, taking off his hat (which made you question why he was so worried about his hairstyle that he spent at least fifteen minutes playing with before the show). He stops in front of you, phone in hand as he takes a picture of the two of you: a tradition he started a few tours ago as a joke.

Finally, Luke makes his way towards you, ready to ramble about the show but is brisked away by Rachel. He doesn’t even glance over at you after he’s taken away towards the hall.

Entering the dressing room where the rest of the boys sat, you saw Michael talking animatedly on the phone, Calum laying across the couch with an arm over his eyes, and Ashton wiping off excess sweat with a towel. He was the first one to notice you.

“Ready for that hug?” he asks as you approach him.

“Why not.”

You hug each other, smiling as you pulled away. In the distance, over the cool-down music, you hear Luke’s laughter in the hall. Knowing he’s with Rachel makes you wonder if she’s told him about her suspicions, and that thought alone makes you clam up all over again.

Ashton immediately notices, tilting his head as he asks you what’s wrong.

“Nothing,” you quickly reply, eyes focusing on him.

He notices how jittery you seem, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable so he says nothing.

“Guys,” Andy comes in with his camera in hand, “we need to take a few photos.”

The three agree and follow the photographer out. You move to the snack table for a bottle of water, but before you can take a sip, someone clears their throat in the doorway.

You roll your eyes immediately because you know who it is. You don’t pay her any attention and instead take the sip of water you need.

“We need to finish that conversation you oh-so rudely ended,” Rachel moves into the room, keeping her voice down as she crosses her arms.

“We don’t need to finish anything.”

She scoffs, “I asked you a question, and you were so quick to avoid it. I think you’re proving a point.”

“What point?” you turn to look at her, “I know you don’t like me but I don’t know why, can we start with that?”

“Like I said before, I know you like Luke. He’s my boyfriend, and I don’t like how he’s close to you.”

“We grew up together,” you state, standing tall as you glare at her, “of course we’re going to be close.”

“Well I don’t like it,” she huffs.

You shake your head with a sigh, closing the lid to the bottle as you turn your back to her. You were getting angry at the fact that someone who didn’t know Luke as long as you did was hinting that you should stay away from him.

“Stop hanging out with him.”

A curt laugh escapes you before you can stop it, “Are you jealous of our friendship?”

“No,” she smirks, “but I know you’re jealous of our relationship.”

She’s right; you’re only a little jealous of their relationship, but it’s not something you want to risk your friendship with.

You open your mouth to defend yourself, but you’re caught off-guard when nothing comes out. The one opportunity to make her believe you don’t like her boyfriend and you can’t say anything.

Giving up with sinking shoulders, you glance at the door before looking back at her. Grimacing at her knowing smile, “How did you find out?”

She hums, “It was easy. I love him, so I know what it looks like to look at someone you love. You made it so obvious, I’m surprised no one else found out!”

You grit your teeth. You did your damn best to make sure no one, especially Luke or Rachel, know how you feel about him.

“I’m not intimidated by you,” she walks closer to you, arms uncrossing as her hands move to her hips, “but I won’t deny the fact that you and Luke have chemistry.”

“What will it take—” you place the bottle back on the table, “—for you to leave me alone?”

“Do the same to him.”

“What?”

“Leave him alone, unfriend him,” she shrugs, “simple as that.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you walk around her to the door, ready to end the conversation.

“Do that or I’ll tell him,” with a harsh tone she walks towards you, grabbing your arm to stop you from walking.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Okay,” another voice from the doorway makes the two of you jump, “that’s enough.”

Ashton walks into the room, grabbing Rachel’s hand and removing it from your arm.

“W—” she stutters out as she watches the tall man move to stand in front of you.

“I came back for my drumsticks—” his eyes shift to the object sticking out of his bag before dropping down to Rachel, “—but instead I find you, what, threatening a good friend of ours?”

Rachel is speechless while you’re frozen. It was embarrassing enough for one person to find out about your crush on Luke, but now Ashton might know and you want to go into hiding.

“Let it go,” you tug on Ashton’s shirt to get his attention but he doesn’t move.

“Telling someone who’s known your boyfriend longer than your relationship to just abandon him is low, Rachel. Don’t think the way you’ve been treating our friends has gone unnoticed.”

You hear more footsteps approaching the room, and now you wish the ground can swallow you up. You don’t want all this attention on you.

“What’s happening here?” Michael says as he peeks into the room, Luke behind him as Calum leans against the other side of the doorway.

“Nothing—,” Rachel tries to deflect but with four pairs of eyes on her, it becomes too much. Tears start pouring out, and you’re in disbelief.

How can she be the one crying after she was the one who was rude to you?

Luke immediately rushes in, creating a beeline right to her side to wrap her in his arms.

His eyes dart to yours, an emotion on his face of something you’ve never seen, but you know it’s not good.

“What did you do?”

You’re taken back by his tone and the way his angry eyes stare you down. It hurts because instead of staying neutral and finding out what exactly happened, he immediately chose a side: a side of someone he’s known for only for a short amount of time.

“Mate,” Ashton speaks up for you, “I think you’re asking the wrong person that.”

“No,” Luke’s voice raises, eyes moving from yours to stare into his band mate’s, “I’m asking the right person.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes welling with tears as the weight of everything happening within the last ten minutes starts to bring you down. Your eyes move away from the ones boring into yours, and with a tremble in your voice, “I didn’t do anything. She’s the one who started—.”

“Bullshit!” Luke’s roar cuts you off, “Absolute bullshit, because if she started it, then why is she the only one crying?!”

The two other guys move in to the room to mediate the situation.

“Luke, calm down,” Michael’s hands raise to the motion of ‘calm down’ as he tries to get Luke’s attention.

“There’s gotta be more to the story,” Calum moves to your side, checking on you briefly.

“Don’t,” Luke states as he watches Calum grab your shoulders to move you out of the room.

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” Ashton questions. He watches Luke soothingly rub Rachel’s back, wiping her tears with his free hand.

“My girlfriend is crying and you two were the only ones in here,” Luke replies, gently grabbing Rachel’s arms so he can look directly into her eyes, “what happened, babe?”

“I asked them—,” Rachel sniffles, continuing her façade, “—if they needed any help cleaning the room earlier and they yelled at—at me and told me to go away. Then after the show when you guys went for your photos, I came here to apologize to her, even though I didn’t do anything wrong.”

She was selling it; the tears, the sniffling, the stutters, and hiccups. A great actress who knows what she wants.

“That’s not true,” you inhale, your ears feeling warm and ringing, “she has had a problem with me lately and I don’t know why!”

Luke scoffs, shaking his head, wrapping Rachel in his arms again.

“C’mon,” Michael mumbles, wanting to leave the room.

Ashton turns around, watching your face go from pleading to blank as the tears fall from your eyes. He turns his head to face Luke, “You’re unbelievable,” he grabs your shoulders and starts to move you out of the room, “let’s go.”

Michael is already out of the room, the tension too much for him and ruining the after-show vibe. Calum is waiting by the door ready to help lead you out. Ashton has you turned around, pushing you towards the door.

“Wait, Luke,” you mumble, getting out of Ashton’s hold and turning back to face Luke.

He doesn’t look at you, sighing as he rubs Rachel’s head as it’s against his chest.

“Please,” you plead, begging him to look at you and when he does, you ask, “who do you believe?”

“What?”

“Who do you believe, Luke,” you gulp with a sniffle, “me or her?”

For a moment, you think you see hesitation. His jaw tenses as he stares you down, his best friend for years and someone he turned to when times got tough. He then looks down at the girl in his arms, someone he loves crying into his chest.

He sighs again, this time soft, before looking up to meet your eyes. He does notice the tears, the pain etched on your face as his other best friends watch them. “I believe Rachel.”

“This is fucking stupid,” Ashton mutters as he gently grabs your shoulders again to lead you out of the room.

You let the tears fall freely, not meeting any of the boys’ eyes as you kept your head face down.

You’ve lost your best friend. He chose someone else over you, a lie he chose to believe.

Whatever it was that made you catch feelings for your best friend, you wish you can find it and destroy it, along with any other memory you’ve made with him. After tonight, you want him erased from your cherished memories.

---

part two!

[captainsimagines]

“I Could Fall in Love”

Happy Valentine’s Day!

I hope you enjoy this little drabble as much as I enjoyed writing it. Cutting it close to midnight on Valentine’s Day but hey, it still counts. xx Moni

BUCKY BARNES X READER DRABBLE

Warnings: none, simply fluff!

Word Count: 3000+

Song Fanfic: Listen and enjoy!

~

     It wasn’t that you hated Valentine’s Day, you just didn’t see it as purely romantic. In your opinion, it was supposed to represent so much more than just romantic love. Friendships, beginnings and endings, the actual historical event, elementary school card giving, baked goods, and a nice dinner for either yourself or in the presence of others. So, no - you didn’t hate it. In fact, you actually quite enjoyed the giddy feeling of seeing other couples go all out for a single day, the sweets that were always available, and the awesome discounts. 

     “Come with us!” Natasha whined, filling up her glass with some oat milk and passing Steve some utensils at the same time. She wasn’t whining excessively, as that wasn’t in her nature, but she did raise her voice as her tone shifted from playful to annoyance. You rolled your eyes and chewed on your bagel, shaking your head dramatically. You plastered on your best grin, but it was overpowered by the massive chunk of bagel in your mouth. So you sat there, stupid bagel-filled grin covering your face, and tiny giggles threatening to escape as Natasha’s face also dropped into a silly one. 

     The rest of the crew was planning on attending a private Valentine’s Day party hosted by a close business partner of Tony’s. It sounded like a lot of fun and a perfect excuse to dress-up, but you had a tiny mission to go on before it. It was not a ‘mission-mission’ so to say- more like a ‘get in, get out, this will literally take two seconds and I could do this any other day’ type of mission. Natasha had given you such a disapproving look when you told her what your actual plans were for tonight, but she expected nothing less. You always had something else up your sleeve. 

     And that you did. 

     Since your mission was a quickie, you would be able to return to the compound before everyone else and bake your special pink cupcakes they all knew and loved. A sweet mixture of vanilla and strawberry, no flavor overpowering the other. You had recently perfected the recipe, only having Natasha and Bucky taste the final product, and because of their genuine surprise and praise, you were ready to bake dozens for everyone proudly.

     She finished her glass and went to wash it. “Still, I think you’re missing out! I hear the food is gonna be great!”

     You shrugged, “Eh, we have food here.”

     You heard Natasha release a tiny scoff, “Please tell me your actual reason before I laugh too loudly and wake everyone up.”

     “I swear, I’ve been putting off this mission for so long that tonight just seemed like the perfect time. Everyone’s occupied- I don’t know. I mean, criminals gotta get laid too, right?”

      Natasha snorted, “That’s very true.” She eyed you suspiciously while drying her glass. 

     “You know, you and Barnes are the only one’s not attending. Obviously, his excuse is that he’s literally on a mission right now but you see my point.”

     “No, I don’t see your point.”

     Natasha smiled, as if secretly knowing your other very valid reason for not attending the party. “We all have dates. You know that if he were here you would be going with him, even as friends. But since you would literally be the only one of us without a date, it seems reasonable you wouldn’t want to attend.”

    Okay, she hit that spot-on. 

    You groaned and lay your arms across the counter dramatically, “Stop, it’s scary how right you are all the time.”

    Natasha laughed and rounded the counter, going over to pat your shoulders. “I’m not making you go. Don’t worry. Just give yourself some self-care and I’ll see you tonight to let you know I got home safe.”

     You nodded and waved goodbye to her, ready to finish the everything bagel you had abandoned. 

          Bucky wasn’t one to dress-up for a night out anymore. He just didn’t have the motivation to do anything unless it involved stake-outs, knitting, painting, and binge-watching some stupid series you were watching. It always happened the same way, too. You would be casually chilling in the main common room of the compound, barely starting the first episode of a new series with stacks of junk food ready for your eager taste buds, when Bucky would randomly come in and ask what you were watching. And the next thing Bucky knew, you two were discussing the hidden elements of The Crown and debating whether a scene actually happened the way it was portrayed. By God, how much Bucky absolutely detested Prince Charles. 

     And you were so determined to knit that sweater for Natasha by her birthday that you came to Bucky’s room five times a day now rather than your usual three. But Bucky was extremely patient, helping you hook the remaining yarn that kept falling off your needles. Each time you pouted over the ‘horrible knot you made’ or when the yarn would tangle, Bucky would grin and tease you about, his stomach twisting pleasurably.

     And each time he would reach over to help you fix it, your heart fluttered ever so slightly. 

     Bucky had actually planned on taking you to that Valentine’s Day party but his mission carried on longer than it was supposed to. Rather than returning a day before the party, he would now be returning towards the middle of it. He wondered if you were still going to go, but he highly doubted it. Not because you had told him explicitly, but because you had joked that if he wasn’t able to go, then ‘why would you bother?’. 

     To see you in that red dress you had jokingly placed over your already clothed body and modeled for him - Yeah, he absolutely hated he was missing this party tonight. 

     His mission had just ended and he was currently on the flight home, resting in his tactical gear but with the headphones you let him borrow in each ear. He chuckled lowly, realizing that most things he had in his possession, whether that be the headphones, hair bands, lotion, and Spotify account, all belonged to you. It brought him some comfort as he fixed himself in his seat, settling on your ‘Love me please?’ playlist to match the special holiday. 

     Lovebug by the Jonas Brothers. Tonight by FM Static. Oh, dozens by Taylor Swift. You’ll Be In My Heart by Phil Collins. And a whole lot of Selena songs. 

     There was one song that caught his attention, as if the title spoke to him. It just made sense. He clicked it, surprised by the upbeat beginning and rhythm of the drums, finally closing his eyes as he heard the melody from the acoustic guitar. 

     He lost count of how many times he replayed that one song as his plane touched land. He quickly woke himself up and gathered his things, ready to jump into a warm shower and watch an episode of The Crown behind your back. The drive to the compound was short and he entered the living quarters somewhat alert. There were no sounds his super soldier ears could hear besides the clicks of keyboards by overtime workers and computers humming. Kind of sad and joyful at once, Bucky realized he was alone for the first time in a long time. Maybe he would try that face mask you had urged him to buy tonight. And those very comfortable pajamas. 

          Ever the procrastinator, you never did go on that mission.

     You were humming along to your Valentine’s playlist as you cracked the eggs into your bowl. You stirred quickly, bowl in your arms and a strike of flour along your unknowing cheek. You had your earphones in, enjoying the solace of such a peaceful night. The mix was coming together nicely and as you waited for the oven to preheat, you took out all of your cupcake supplies to set on the kitchen counter. 

     You could have sworn you heard some noises a few doors down so you took one earphone out to listen closely. At first you heard nothing, but you could have sworn you heard the likes of a toothbrush tapping against a bathroom counter. But as you stood there comically, bowl in your arms and whisk held up like a weapon, you settled on no disturbance. 

     You set the bowl down quietly and ran over to the door, looking down the hallway. Once you saw it was completely empty, you couldn’t contain the grin that spread across your face. You raced back to the kitchen and called for Friday. 

     “Friday? Could you please connect my phone to the living room speakers, please?”

     “Done.”

     You scrolled through your playlist and settled on a song that would for sure damage your vocal cords but delight you nonetheless. 

“I could lose my heart tonight

If you don’t turn and walk away

     You swayed around the kitchen as you traveled to grab each new ingredient, singing at the appropriate level the song called for. 

Because the way I feel I might

Lose control and let you stay

     Bucky had just finished brushing his teeth and putting a warm pair of socks on when he heard Friday play the exact song he had been listening to for the past two hours. At first he wondered if Friday had mistakenly connected his phone to the speakers but realized his phone didn’t even have the Spotify app open. He quickly walked down the cold floors of the hallway, his warm socks somewhat doing their job. He stopped at the living room entrance and leaned his shoulder on the doorway, beaming with a huge grin. 

Because I could, take you in my arms

And never let go

     You twirled around and used the whisk as a microphone, and to both your and Bucky’s surprise, hit every note perfectly. Bucky knew you were a great singer and although he would never admit it, he had heard you singing in the shower quite a few times. It was impossible not to at the level of volume you sang, but each time he would come into your room to grab something random or to ask you a question, he would sit outside the shower door and listen to your angelic voice as it sailed through the steamy air and into Bucky’s ears. But here you were, belting out the exact song Bucky had just learned all the lyrics for on his way home.

I could fall, in love, with you

     It was in that moment that Bucky realized he was in his ‘comfortable pajamas’, which consisted of a loose long sleeve and bottoms set, with a nice dark blue color and white stitching along the pockets and buttons. But the sleeves, incredibly so, were far too long for his arms so he would crunch them up in his palms. And his socks had stripes on them. But he remained still on the door frame, watching you sway to the music and enjoying the scent of your first batch of cupcakes already in the oven.

I could only wonder how touching you

Would make me feel

     You halted immediately when you saw his tall form resting on the door frame, a giant grin plastered on his newly shaven face. You yelped in surprise, putting down the whisk and patting your hands on your little green apron. 

     “Bucky, oh my god! Say something if you’re going to enter a room!”

     Bucky just shrugged, walking over to the kitchen counter, eyes never leaving yours. He leaned over and placed his chin in both his palms, smiling as the music continued playing in the background. “I like this song.”

     You squinted at him, “You know this song?”

     Bucky nodded, holding his hand out now for you to take. “Like I said, I like this song.”

But if I take that chance right now

Tomorrow will you want me still?

     You reached over hesitantly and let Bucky lead you over to the carpet. He wrapped one arm around your waist and rested the other higher up on your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck, allowing for his large frame to sway you both to the rhythm of the song. 

     “Nice pajamas.”

     “Shut up.”

     The room was dimly lit, cupcake aroma circling you two, and his snuggly pajamas seemed to also provide you the warmth you were previously getting from the oven. You smiled up at him, low giggles emitting from your lips. He did the same, enjoying the feel of your body pressed up against his. 

So I should, keep this to myself

And never let you know

     “When did you get back?” you asked, reaching up to touch his shaven cheek. You were undoubtedly curious about the feeling.

     Bucky let you roam your hand all over, “About an hour ago. I didn’t think anyone was here.”

     You chuckled, “I am! I told you I wasn’t going to bother going to that party if my plus one wasn’t coming!”

     Bucky lifted his arm and twirled you slowly, happy that you followed his lead. “So, I’m your plus one now?”

     You rolled your eyes, “Always.”

I could fall, in love, with you

     “How did you even hear about this song?” you asked, hands now resting comfortably on Bucky’s chest. He had his arms wrapped around you, hugging you to his chest as you two swayed. 

      “We share a Spotify account, doll.”

     “Yeah, but it’s a love playlist. Were you just in the mood for some ballads and stumbled across this one?”

      “Exactly. It’s quite the tearjerker.”

And I know it’s not right

And I guess I should try

To do what I should do

     He looked so relaxed at this moment, fresh and calm, enjoying the dance he pulled you into. He was resting his chin on the top of your head so you felt his little puffs of air escape his nostrils. And as he breathed in, you could feel his chest rise and lower below your palms. You were tempted to reach up and grab his face, pull him into yourself and share a sweet kiss, but you decided against it. For some reason you knew that this was different. You had snuggled before during naps or binge watching, but they never had a romantic undertone. And if you acted upon your desires, you were frightened it just might ruin your friendship. It took you two years to build up such a rapport with this man, and dare you say you were extremely proud to harbor some of his deepest secrets, and him yours. But his breathing calmed you immensely, as if the gentle rhythm was enough to put you to sleep, and you wondered if he was thinking about the same thing. 

But I fall in love, with you

So I should, keep this to myself

And never let you know

     Bucky seemed to hug you tighter as the lyrics encircled the room. Over the last few weeks he had felt a shift in your relationship, where sharing food was no longer as innocent as it seemed, barging into each other’s room was not seen as drastic, and partaking in each other’s hobbies was never a bore. Steve had commented on it before, asking Bucky if there was something between you two. And Bucky confided in both Steve and Sam, hands pulling at his hair as he paced in a safe room and his friends sitting patiently on the lone couch. They let him act out his worries in peace, and once Bucky tired himself out they both explained how he should ask you out or how to bring up the topic with you. Bucky listened intently and pushed down the tiny voice in his head that joked about Steve being the one to give him romantic advice. But if he ended up with you on his arm after this little pep talk, it would all be worth it. 

     But now the song was coming closer to its end, and he knew that if he didn’t act now then he probably wouldn’t have the courage to bring it up ever again. He leaned down to your left ear, and whispered the lyrics to you. In Spanish. 

Siempre estoy soñando en ti

Besando mis labios, acariciando mi piel

Abrazándome con ansias locas

Imaginando que me amas

Como yo podía amar a ti

[I am always dreaming of you

Kissing my lips and touching my skin

Anxiously hugging me

Imagining that you love me

Like how I love you]

     You knew Bucky knew several languages. You knew. But it made you incredibly excited and hot that he specifically knew Spanish. He spoke in such a gentle manner, breath hitting your skin and voice practically drowning your mind. It was all foggy for a moment, but you quickly refocused your attention on his face. 

     “Oh, wow.”

      Bucky smiled, “What?”

     You scoffed and swatted his chest lightly, “Don’t ‘what’ me! You just confessed you like me!”

     Bucky pushed you away for another twirl under his arm, but kept you at arms length once you turned around. “No, I confessed I love you.”

     You stumbled slightly, staring at him with wide eyes. You thought about how absurd that confession was, but as quickly as that thought entered your mind, it left - because let’s face it, you did know each other for over two years and were best friends. This was right. This felt right. 

     “You love me?”

     Bucky breathed in deeply but your reaction didn’t change his mind. It was now or never. “Yeah, I do. Seemed like the moment to tell you.”

     You grinned, pushing your body forward to be engulfed by his strong arms once more. “And to think you could have just told me at this damn party when I was looking all hot without freaking flour on my face.”

     Bucky let out a loud laugh that originated from the pit of his stomach and reached his hands up to your face. He pulled you in and kissed you sweetly, the taste of your lip gloss driving him wild. He tasted like toothpaste and chapstick, a perfect combination for your superhero. 

     “I love you, too.” Bucky let his eyes close in complete bliss. 

     You could have stayed like that forever, but as you left his lips and looked up at him, you suddenly remembered you never set a timer. 

     You pushed Bucky away, your sudden strength sending him backwards onto the couch. “My cupcakes!”

      And as you rushed to pull the burnt tops from the oven, you could hear Bucky slide off the couch and hit the floor, his laugh louder than the speakers. 

I could fall, in love

With you.”

~

Happy Valentine’s Day. All the love. xxMoni

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Day 9: No, you don’t - Maxwell Lord

Day 9: No, you don’t - Maxwell Lord 

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Reader 

Rating: 18 + 

November Writing Challenge Masterlist 

Day 8: Dot, Dot, Dot - Agent Whiskey 

This prompt was requested by @mandoalorian-mainblog​. If you have any requests let me know- here. :D Hope you enjoy! 

“Ok everyone, you need to be on your best behavior, keep your hands to yourself, raise your hand to speak, and remember to use your manners, say please and thank you. You are here to represent Eastern Elementary School, ok, let’s go,” You turn away from the bright wondering eyes of your students and towards the towering building ahead of you.

You had been selected to escort the contest winners from your school to Chimtech Consortium, the company owned by Maxwell Lord. You had never met the man in person but it was impossible not to know who he was, his infomercials were always on. You lead the group through the lobby greeting the security guard at the desk. “Hello, we are from Eastern Elementary, we are meeting with Mr. Lord at 11:00 AM,” you smile brightly at the guard who looks through the notebook in front of him before grunting, placing the phone to his cheek and calling someone down. 

You turn to look at the kids and see their own excitement reflected back at you. You couldn’t deny that you had been excited about meeting Maxwell Lord. Everything you had read about him, his company, and he was pretty easy on the eyes. A few moments later a harried looking woman appeared out of the center elevator, running over to your group. 

“Miss. Ashton? Eastern Elementary?” she questions before you nod, “Oh thank god! Your late and I was getting worried you wouldn’t be coming, Mr. Lord has been waiting upstairs and he HATES to be left waiting,” she gestures you all quickly to the elevator and you glance over to the other chaperone of the group Levi’s mom who laughs quietly to herself, rolling her eyes. 

You bite your lip before you say something quickly ushering the students into the elevator. When you reach the top floor the doors open to an immaculate office. There is only one office on this floor and a large conference room, Maxwell Lord’s personal floor. The secretary doesn’t give you much time to look before she is all but pushing your group to the conference room. You move to the back to catch any stragglers and when you’ve counted them all there, you enter. At the front of the room in a large high back leather chair is the illustrious Maxwell Lord. His blue and white striped suit is pressed to perfection, several rings grace his thick fingers, his blonde hair with not a wave out of place, and a scowl that quickly masks into one of the fakest smiles you have ever seen. He doesn’t rise to greet anyone, only points to the chairs around the room, “Welcome everyone, why don’t you have a seat and we can get started.” 

The kids run to claim their seat and you and Levi's mom take the two seats at the back. When everyone gets settled the secretary takes control of the room. “So we only have time to hear tw-” Maxwell glares at his assistant before clearing his face, “one speech, since you were late to our meeting, Mr. Lord is very busy today so please Miss. Ashton, which one is the best?” 

Your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, and you glance around at the students. Some look at you with a matching expression of shock, others eyes have become glassy. They were all supposed to get to share their speech. 

“Uhm I’m sorry you’ve mentioned several times that we are late but your letter told us to be here at 11:00 AM it’s only 10:55? Every student should have the opportunity to share their speech, they’ve worked very hard to earn this opportunity to share with you, I am sure Mr. Lord can honor the time given.” 

The secretary doesn’t say anything, only furiously scrolling through her notebook before she pales, turning her eyes down to her boss. “Mr. Lord, I am so sorry sir, I made a mistake. I thought they were supposed to be here at 10:30 but I wrote it in my planner as 11. I am so sorry sir,” she begs. 

He rises, and points to you, “Miss. Ashton a word in my office please?” he doesn’t wait for a response before you are running out of the room after him. 

When you both reach his office the door closes with a snap behind you. “Ok listen, I do not want to waste my entire afternoon listening to these damn kids, so where do I have to sign to make them go away? You don’t make much money, name your price,” he removes a checkbook from the top desk of his drawer. 

Your mouth drops open before you snap out of it, “You can’t be serious? You're honestly trying to pay me to break my students hearts? They’ve been looking forward to this for months, certainly you can understand that. It will only take thirty minutes of your time. I’m sure even you can spare thirty minutes.” 

He takes a few moments before he responds, “Miss. Ashton as someone whose only job is to babysit children I am sure you can think I can spend thirty minutes listening to them but I am here to tell you I don’t. I am a very busy man,” He looks down and begins to fill out the check. 

You feel your blood begin to boil and your pulse rise, and the words come spilling out of your mouth before you can stop yourself, “Are you fucking kidding me?” His head snaps up so fast he may get whiplash. 

“Excuse me-” 

You cut him off before he gets a chance to speak “No I don’t think I need to make any excuses or apologies, you have made it crystal clear to me that you are an asshole. Those kids,” you point back towards the conference room, “have worked so fucking hard for months! Just to come to your office and read you their speech. And now you're telling me you can’t give them thirty damn minutes of your precious time, to listen. And don’t give me any bull shit about us being late when it was your secretary who made the mistake in your schedule!” 

“You don’t know who the hell you're talking to,” he stomps over to you getting in your face but you're not intimidated one bit. 

“NO, you don’t understand who the hell your talking to Mr. Lord!” you don’t back down getting right back in his face, and shoving your pointer finger harshly into his chest, “I may be a low level poor public servant in your eyes but in mine I am a badass teacher who deals with privileged pricks like you on a daily basis and I am here to tell you I will not be intimidated!” 

He doesn’t say anything, your both panting harshly, your faces mere inches apart, your finger is still digging into the chest of his suit. You don’t notice the change in his face quickly enough to react before you're pushed backward into the mahogany door, his mouth coming down to slant over your own. The kiss is violent and messy teeth clashing together, your hands push into his perfect hair and tug harshly, his hands cover your ass pushing into you harshly. 

You come apart to breath, the back of your head hitting the door. His hands are bruising on your hips, his hair falls down over his forehead. “What...what was that?” you ask in a whisper. 

He pushes forward again putting his lips on yours again, but this time it’s different. The air has shifted slightly; he's gentler and his grip has lessened to be almost a caress. Your hands wrap themselves around his neck and your tongues dance together and he lets out a groan when you roll your hips against his own. 

The moment is broken by a loud knock on the door behind you, his hands tighten on you to keep you still before he clears his throat, “What is it?” he shouts. 

“Uhm I am so sorry to disturb you Mr. Lord but your 11 o’clock appointment is here in conference room four,” the muffled voice of his secretary sounds through the door. 

He takes a moment before answering, keeping his eyes on you the whole time, “Cancel my afternoon, I am going to listen to the children’s speeches.” 

“Oh...yes sir,” she stutters before the clack of her heels drifts away. 

“Why did you do that?” you whisper, “I mean I’m glad but...why?” 

“Because a badass teacher told me too,” he uses his right hand pushing your hair behind your ear before lowering down to your neck. He kisses you again gently. “Now come on Miss. Ashton the children are waiting,” he straightens himself and pushes his hair back into place. 

You try your best to straighten up your own appearance before you look up meeting his gaze once again, “What are you doing tonight?” he asks. 

“Nothing.” 

“Keep it that way...have dinner with me.” He doesn’t ask more demands and you can’t help but nod, “Excellent, now let’s go,” he pulls the door open and you follow. 

When you get back to the conference room, you take your seat next to Levi’s mom who gives you a look. You just stare back, almost daring her to say something. She doesn't only winks at you smiling, you smile gently looking down at your hands, you feel eyes on you and you look up into the chocolate brown eyes of Maxwell Lord. Oh you couldn’t wait for tonight. 

Day 10: Used Tea Bags- Javier Pena 

[arigatouiris]

is that how it’s supposed to go? // tendou satori

Author’s Note: Tendou is babie and I love him so much my heart hurts. I can’t write angst for him, yanno? He’s so precious I wanna give him the world. PLEASE TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM AND KUROO IN THE END thanks I love ya’ll, hope you like this

Word count: 4817

Pairing: Tendou Satori x Reader

Warnings: light angst, fluff, childhood friends, mentions of divorce

Sometimes, things got a bit too much for Tendou Satori.

It wasn’t unusual for him to cry about not having friends, but he didn’t cry where tears were shed. Tendou often just muffled his emotions, rather than expressing them—because what was the point, after all? Being named ‘Satori’ brought in a lot of hate, and he was growing to hate his own name because of it. It was the sort of feeling that left him wanting for some sort of approval from others, even though his parents often told him that he had to give himself that approval first.

But, how could he?

Just as he walked out of his house’s gate, his eyes flashed to a large truck three houses down. He blinked before tilting his head a bit, blowing his hair away from his eyes. There was a man and a woman, taking out things from the back of the truck, and that was the first time Tendou laid his eyes on you.

You were crying, holding on to a doll in your hands; your grip on the inanimate object was rather tight, but Tendou could sense how deep your emotions were. He often felt that way, even though he never openly cried, but watching you cry there, loudly—your cries echoing across the area, sent a tinge to his heart that felt rather odd. He felt like crying because you were crying, and it was odd because he had never seen you before. The woman, he assumed was your mother, turned to you and patted your head before kneeling down to your level and saying some words of assurance.

Tendou gulped before walking away; he was getting late to school anyway. It was his final year of elementary school. Most of his classmates hated him, so there was no hidden excitement lodged in his heart right then to even go to school. Letting out a dramatic sigh, he walked to school, feeling lonely and small, and wondered how much longer he had to feel this way.

Upon reaching his class, he quietly sat to the seat that was assigned to him, which wasn’t by the window or the corner. He was somewhere in the middle, the second column, and the seat to his left was empty. No one wanted to sit beside him, an understandable fact, but it pained his heart to live with it as a fact. When the teacher arrived, Tendou didn’t look up. There was no point to giving the day any more attention than it deserved; after all, each day was the same.

     “Class,” The teacher announced, “We have a new classmate joining us today!”

Great, he thought before pouting a bit, Another one to the list to call me monster. Tendou didn’t dare look up at his future possible assailant, and he wasn’t planning on moving an inch till the class ended.

     “Why don’t you introduce yourself to us?” The teacher whispered.

     “I...” The person sniffed, clearly crying, which made Tendou pause for a second, “My name...” 

Slowly, the class was filled with snickers—people were giggling at this new person who was crying whilst introducing themselves. Tendou looked up and his heart sped up when he spotted you—the very same girl that had been crying earlier in the morning today. You were wearing his school’s uniform and your hair had been neatly combed to stay away from your face. However, you looked devastated; almost as if you didn’t want to be here. He noticed that your lips were quivering, and he felt utterly miserable that the class wasn’t even trying to understand your predicament. 

What was so funny while you were standing there crying?

When the laughter in class increased, Tendou frowned before pressing his lips together. He wasn’t brave enough to stand up and do something, but he kept his gaze on you; intense and warm, hoping you’d get to see it. You started searching the classroom for one face that wasn’t laughing at you, and you found Tendou’s intense glare.

He wasn’t glaring at you, and you had no idea how you came to know that. Gulping, you took a shaky breath before licking your lips.

     “My name is (l/n) (y/n)...” Your voice broke in the end, but when Tendou smiled at you, your heart skipped a beat.

It was quite obvious now that you were asked to sit beside Tendou, because that was the only seat that was empty. You weren’t crying when you reached your seat, but you were still very sad. You had moved from Osaka to Miyagi; your father had a job that made him move quite often, which left you devoid of a chance for a normal school life. You made friends easily, but if you kept moving the way you were, it was hard to stick to any of them. You were a mess when you arrived, and you were still a mess now. 

     “Are you okay?” The red-haired boy asked you.

His hair was a bowl cut and his eyes were rather large, and he had a strange face that made you want to smile more at him, because that strange face had a very addictive smile. You sniffed before shaking your head.

     “My name is Tendou...” He avoided telling you his first name before he looked away.

You tilted your head before wanting to ask him about it, but you chose not to. You instead answered his question first.

     “I moved here from Osaka...” 

Tendou made an ‘o’ with his mouth before asking you, “Did you have friends there?”

You paused a bit before thinking and then shaking your head. Tendou grinned before telling you something that inevitably changed your final year there.

     “Then why be sad? You can make friends here!”

And you did. 

*

After just a week, Tendou and you were as thick as thieves. You’d gotten quite comfortable with everyone in just that week, and it was rather easy. Everyone seemed to dislike Tendou, and comfort didn’t always mean you were happy. You were comfortable telling Tendou’s bullies off, and they could do nothing about you in hindsight. 

     “Tendou-kun?”

The two of you were currently on his house’s terrace, building a house of cards. Since Tendou lived only a few houses away from you, you often went over with the excuse of doing homework and spent hours just watching anime or playing. Sometimes, he’d ask you to play volleyball with him, just to spite you for fun, considering how bad you were with handling a volleyball.

     “What?”

     “Why won’t you tell me your first name? You know mine.”

His eyes widened. Of course, he did know yours. But, if you knew his, you’d make fun of him too. You noticed how hesitant he looked and that confused you, and as much as you wanted to comfort him, you didn’t even know what about his first name was bothering him.

     “Is it funny?”

He shook his head.

     “Is it... weird?”

He paused, looking down at the ground. The silence that grew between you felt almost like a burden, and you inched closer to where he sat across from you. You ignored the house of cards, you knew you could always build one again later. Right now, nothing mattered more to you than Tendou’s first name.

     “It’s...” He took a deep breath, “...Satori.”

He immediately shut his eyes and waited for you to laugh. He expected you to laugh first before pointing your finger at him and telling him off; he waited for mean words to slip past your lips and to have you call him a monster. But when no sound came, Tendou opened his eyes and slowly, he dared to meet yours.

You were wide eyed, almost as if you had learned something amazing. Your gaze was simultaneously both invasive and immersive, and Tendou felt strangely vulnerable under its intensity. Your pupils were glittering, and your lips were forming a very wide grin, and it felt as if you were peering through the keyhole of his heart.

     “(l/n)?”

     “Satori-kun!” You exclaimed, eyes still sparkling. “I love your name!”

Suddenly, Tendou felt a surge of energy upon catching your words—a joyful thrill that settled in his stomach, arced up through his lungs and flashed into a spontaneous smile on his face—which scrambled his ungrounded circuits and tempted him to chase that very feeling constantly. When you spotted Tendou grinning, and grinned back, giggling at how happy he looked.

     “Satori-kun has such a nice name,” You said, in awe, and he merely just watched you, his heart ricocheting like crazy, “And I’m stuck with (y/n).” You ended with a pout.

Tendou gasped before standing up, almost ready to fight, “(y/n) is such a lovely name! I’ll fight you if you say it’s bad!”

You looked up at him with wide eyes and giggled some more, “Satori-kun, you’ll fight me if I say my name is bad?”

     “Yeah, because I don’t think it’s bad.”

     “Because you’re a sweet person, Satori-kun.” You whined.

     “No,” Satori said, “It’s because I’m being honest.”

Perhaps, he had learned to love his name more because you were so proud of it. He happily placed his happiness inside the palm of your hands, entrusting you with it; he trusted you with his life, the boy who had seen no light from an external source, and had found it in you—a girl he had seen crying her heart out the first time he met you. For some reason, your good nature stirred his own inside of him, which intended to change him. It brought out a side in him he never knew he had, and for that, he was grateful.

That entire year with you, Tendou knew he liked you. It was the strangest thing because you were the one to tell him, and it was such a matter-of-fact statement that it felt as if there wasn’t anything unnatural about it. The two of you were once again on Tendou’s house’s roof, trying to finish up homework because the walls inside the room bored the both of you.

     “Ne, Satori-kun?” You were always the first one to get distracted.

     “Hm?”

     “You’re my boyfriend, right?”

His eyes widened at your blatant statement and he turned to you as if you were mental. 

     “What?! Since when?”

You pouted, “What do you mean since when?”

Satori leaned back, “Well, you never told me you liked me.”

     “Is that how it’s supposed to go?”

Satori nodded, “Someone confesses first and then they go out on dates and stuff.”

You gestured to the both of you and said, “Isn’t this like a date?”

Satori hummed before tapping his chin like he was deep in thought, “I guess. But, you still didn’t confess to me.”

     “Hah!? Why should I confess to you?”

He scoffed, “Because you’re the one calling me your boyfriend.”

     “Does that mean,” You tilted your head before your eyes met his, “You don’t want me as your girlfriend?”

Suddenly, Tendou felt an emotion he hadn’t felt in years; in fact, Tendou felt something so blatantly new that it shook him. That he might have forgotten about completely if his emotional playlist hadn’t been left on shuffle—a feeling whose opening riff tugs on all his other neurons like a dog on a leash waiting for him to open the door.

He shook his head, “Girlfriend sounds lame,” You froze at his words, “You’re like my wife, aren’t you?”

     “Ehhh?” You laughed before throwing an eraser at him, earning a chuckle from him in response.

But, in your laughter he saw acceptance, and in his chuckles you saw candid seriousness. The sound of cicadas rang in both of your ears, hunger rumbled in your stomachs, but your hearts were full. It was a blissful feeling.

*

Blissful feelings don’t last, or that’s what Tendou told himself as he entered Junior High without you.

It had been close to six months since you had moved out of Miyagi, back to Osaka. For some strange reason, your father stayed behind; you moved, your mother moved, and your grandmother who was staying with you had moved as well. Since you weren’t close with anyone else in class, there wasn’t anyone Tendou could ask, and his parents didn’t say anything either. He missed you, no, he ached for you, but you weren’t there. 

You could have exchanged emails, but since Tendou and you were always together and due to the fact that you were not allowed phones yet, you never had the chance to. He recalled his father once telling him that some friendships were only supposed to last during childhood, and while he didn’t want that to be true with you, he was seriously starting to doubt everything at this point. Missing someone was easy if only they hadn’t lived in such close proximity; everything Tendou did reminded him of you, everything lived, breathed, and moved you in essence, and unlike what they told him about missing someone and feeling sad, Tendou only missed you and felt angry.

At least he had volleyball, right? Junior High wasn’t as bad because Tendou had learned the art of making others uncomfortable about him. If they were scared of him, if they called him a monster, then so be it. He’d behave exactly how they expected he would—but he’d be better. Tendou had discovered what he liked, what he disliked, and he strove for it; it was unbelievable how much you had influenced his thinking.

You’re a sweet person, Satori-kun.

I love your name, Satori-kun!

Ah, it had been four years now and he still missed you. Entering High School seemed easier, and he was now expecting people to walk over and make fun of his name, just so that he’d join in. Oh? You want to see what else this monster can do? He’d block every single volleyball coming his way, and the look that was left behind on his opponent’s face was everything. It was because he wouldn’t let their words bring him down, it was because he was much, much more.

Only, the bullies outside the court of volleyball stopped affecting him now as well since you had given him the approval he had been longing for. You may have left Miyagi, but your essence stayed behind with him, he remembered you; and you had liked him just as much as he liked you.

Whether he gave it credit or not, Tendou knew that this was what had shaped his ability to be proud of his own prowess. You had given him what he needed right when he needed it, and his growth had only been imminent. For that, he would always be grateful; despite the pain you had caused after you left.

     “Wakatoshi-kun!” Tendou exclaimed, bending down to his side just to spot any change in expression on his rather stoic friend.

Ushijima turned to the middle blocker and blinked, wondering what Satori had to say. Sometimes, the setter was certain that a few things Tendou tended to say were rather unimportant. 

     “Have you ever considered missing practice?”

     “Why would I miss practice?”

Satori shrugged, “Just because.”

     “That’s not an excuse at all, Tendou-kun.”

Satori sighed; having a friend like Wakatoshi was amazing in almost several ways, but he was not you. Tendou sat across Wakatoshi in his dorm room and smiled to himself as the stoic friend read his latest JUMP comic. Tendou leaned back and fell against his bed, thinking of you.

      “Why don’t you find my name weird?” 

You looked at him like he had said the most dumbest thing you had ever heard. Tendou almost looked hurt with the look you had given him.

     “Satori-kun,” You grabbed both of his hands in yours and stared him in the eye, “I think you’re amazing!”

Tendou remembered blushing at how blatant you were; he admired that about you. You were just... honest. Sweet. Pure. 

     “Amazing?” He knew what he was doing. He wanted you to say nice things. He never wanted you to stop. 

And while he believed you didn’t know he was just fishing for compliments, you knew. And goodness, you’d give this boy compliments any time of the day. Your smile grew and you nodded.

     “Just imagine the look on people’s faces as you prove them wrong about you,” He could feel the warmth in your fingers. “Satori-kun, I look at you and all I can feel is how much better I can be overall as a person and as anyone I want to be! You make me want to be better!”

Tendou let out a sigh, alerting Wakatoshi. 

      “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head, “Just reminiscing, Wakatoshi-kun.”

Wakatoshi appeared like he understood what his roommate was saying, but he was kind enough not to pry. After all, people tended to need an extension of their personal space as often as the requirement to pause and breathe in the middle of practice. It was just as essential. 

Tendou missed you for the entirety of his Junior High, and first two years of High School. He had imagined you being there with him, where he could finally understand his feelings for you and ask you out proper; but that chance was stolen. Of course, he’d had crushes before but none of the girls compared to the image he had of you. Of how you would be if you were still around; how your hair would look, how tall you’d be.

But one thing Tendou couldn’t forget was your smile.

*

Sometimes, things got a bit too much for Tendou Satori.

It wasn’t always that Tendou felt sleepy during the first period of class. But, because practice held on for too long in the morning, and the fact that he had woken up a bit late and had to rush to practice meant that he had to keep his eyes peeled open forcefully. 

     “Class,” The teacher announced as soon as he walked in. “We have a new student today!”

A new student in the third and final year? That too in Shiratorizawa? The student must be a nerd or something. Tendou’s eyes were heavier than boulders right then, but if he had kept them open for just a few seconds, he would have had the air knocked right out of him. 

But, you did it for him instead.

     “Hello, everyone!” Tendou’s eyes were closed at this point, “My name is (l/n) (y/n). It’s nice to meet you all!”

Boulders? They were feathers. Tendou looked up and spotted you—you! You, in all your splendour, bowing and smiling; and when your gaze met his, he saw the glitter in them just like he had seen back when you told him you liked his name. His heart skipped a beat, and he could swear that his fingers were sweating. There was no way. You could not be here.

Immediately, he slapped himself on both cheeks, alerting the entire class. The teacher himself looked perplexed, and you just stood there, smiling, biting your lip so you don’t break out laughing.

You had almost forgotten how important Tendou was to you, until you saw him right then, slapping himself for not being able to believe you were in his classroom. Unfortunately, unlike last time, the only empty bench was somewhere in the front, away from where Tendou was. You sat down, arranging your things down and turned to spot him, his eyes fixed on your form. You offered him a kind smile, but seeing no smile from him worried you. Sure, he was shocked, but he had to feel something, right?

Was he mad that you had left without saying a word? That would make sense considering how close you two were. You turned away, feeling the gloom stick to your eyelashes, something Satori caught in a blink of an eye.

After class, you walk over to him, unable to hold yourself back. Tendou stood up, towering over you—your eyes were wide at how tall he was now. He smiled at your reaction before asking if you were willing to step out for a bit. You nodded, quietly following him; the air around the both of you was comforting, but at the same time, it was quiet, and it was the sort of quietness that had never existed between the two of you before. It made you feel tense.

     “How... How are you?”

He wondered if you’d still call him by his first name. It had been close to five years now. 

     “Taller, (l/n)-chan!”

It felt like he had slapped you by calling your last name. Your smile doesn’t fade. 

     “Definitely a lot taller than I expected, Satori-kun,” You pressed, looking up at him hesitantly; you noticed his eyes widen just a bit before pressing his lips together.

He was holding back. There were clearly many things he wanted to ask, but he wasn’t. You wanted him to. 

     “I should apologize—”

     “Why?”

     “Eh?” You look up at him, turning away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. 

Your heart broke at how detached he was right then; but you deserved how he was being right then. You had left him, without offering any explanation or even a goodbye. Your eyes softened at the thought of leaving Satori alone especially when he had trusted you so much. But, just thinking of him was also taking away the fact that moving away had hurt you too.

     “Mother and father got a divorce,” You said, looking at him, “I moved with mother and grandma. Back to Osaka.”

He had expected that was what had happened as he grew older. But when you confirmed it, there was a tug in his heart.

     “You didn’t tell me...” 

     “I couldn’t. It was all too sudden. They separated before the divorce and I... I couldn’t face you,” 

He was confused. He looked at you, waiting for you to explain.

     “I didn’t want to make you sad. I know I made you feel worse by leaving without saying anything, but to come to you and say ‘Hey, I’m moving away again’ right after we... right after we had...” 

Right after we’d joked about being married.

Tendou could quite practically hear your thoughts. In your own way, you were trying to protect his feelings and while that was noble of you, it was also a tad bit selfish. 

     “I’m truly very sorry, Satori—”

     “There’s nothing to be sorry about, (l/n)-chan,” Tendou said so kindly that it sent shivers down your spine, “It’s all good now.”

You looked at him expectantly, something eating away at your heart. Please, you asked, but you didn’t know for what. Don’t, you begged but you didn’t know why. Tendou waved at you before walking back to class, leaving you there with wide eyes.

You opened your mouth to say something, but you closed your lips together and let out a breath. 

*

As days passed, Tendou noticed how you made friends with others rather easily. You were easy-going, and he also discovered that you didn’t stop speaking to him. You’d greet him whenever you saw him, and he’d catch you turning back and looking at him whenever something funny happened in class.

His heart ached the entire time, however. He wondered if it was possible to like someone for that long, especially when things were confusing as they were right then? Surely, your reason was more than valid and after sleeping on it for a few days, Satori had realized that as a child, there was no possible way for you to have thought ahead and pictured how leaving without a word could have hurt him more. You were trying in your own way, and that itself should have been good enough.

And it was, clearly it was, if Satori could tell himself that much.

But, why was he still pushing you away? It was evident that you didn’t want to be pushed away, judging from how you kept speaking to him; how you tried to inch closer and closer to him each day; how warm your smile was every single day toward him. 

He had missed you so much and now he was ruining it by being confused for all the wrong reasons.

It was close to 9 p.m., right before the curfew hit Shiratorizawa dorms. Practice had ended long ago, Wakatoshi was reading a book and Tendou was lying on his bed as usual. 

I love your name, Satori-kun!

Definitely a lot taller than I expected, Satori-kun.

     “I’m still Satori to her...” Tendou said, staring at the ceiling.

     “To who?”

Tendou’s eyes widened before he turned to Ushijima, who was eagerly looking at Satori as if he had said something of significance. Did he think I started a conversation with him? Ah, no.

     “You need more friends, Wakatoshi-kun.”

     “Is there a reason why you say so?”

     “Just...” Satori rubbed his face, “I don’t know, don’t you get bored?”

     “It’s hard to get bored when I’m dorming with someone like you, Tendou-kun.” 

Tendou looked at Wakatoshi and blinked, “Eh?”

     “You are constantly catching up. That makes me want to be better.”

Tendou’s eyes shot up like saucers. Hearing him say those words reminded him of a particular someone. 

Satori-kun, I look at you and all I can feel is how much better I can be overall as a person and as anyone I want to be! You make me want to be better!

Ah, shit.

Sitting up quickly, and almost alerting Wakatoshi, Tendou stood up from the bed and grabbed his jacket. Ushijima merely watched the redhead put on his jackets and outdoor shoes before rushing to head out. It was almost past curfew, but that didn’t matter to him, apparently.

     “She’s here, Wakatoshi-kun!” Tendou exclaimed, as if sudden realization dawned on him. “She’s here, she’s actually here.”

     “Who’s here?”

     “My life just returned to me, Wakatoshi-kun. I’m wasting time by not claiming it, you see.”

Again, Wakatoshi was used to it by now; nodding at whatever Tendou tended to say. Sometimes, the redhead made no sense to him, but right then, watching how Satori rushed out made him eager to understand. Perhaps, it was something important after all. And matters of prime importance must always be tended to.

Tendou knew heading to the girls dorm would require some skill at not being caught. He knew a way to sneak to the back, but he had to alert you somehow. Spotting a random girl who was heading to the dorm, Tendou threw a small pebble at her before alerting her attention. She walked over to him with fearful eyes, wondering what a boy was doing here at this time.

     “If someone sees you—”

     “I’m trying to confess to the love of my life. Can you please ask (l/n) (y/n) to come out? She’s a third year—”

For some reason, the girl just nodded and rushed inside, cooing. Satori knew he had to wait, but the wait was excruciating. His heart was beating loudly in his chest, and a large grin settled on his lips. After what felt like an hour (but only 10 minutes) later, you showed up, swearing sweats and a casual tank top. Your face was flushed and you looked like you ran.

     “I never really asked you out back then, did I, (y/n)-chan?”

You teared up at what he called you and chuckled, “Is that how it’s supposed to go?”

Recreating an old conversation from your past was sweet, but Tendou didn’t want that conversation. He walked over to you, inches away from you and held your hands. Ah, he thought, feeling right at home.

     “I thought you were mad at me.” You whispered, looking at your connected hands.

Satori shook his head, “Never mad at you. It’s almost impossible to be mad at someone like you. You quite practically ran inside my head for five years.”

You looked up at him before letting out a chuckle. Reaching over to him, you pressed your lips against his before he pulled you closer to him by pressing a hand to your lower back. He had kissed a girl before, but she had not been you. The feeling this gave him was much, much more significant.

A second later, he pulls away and places his forehead against yours. His hands were on either of your cheek and he just breathed.

     “I’m so grateful to you,” Satori said, eyes closed, “You’ve been so nice to me.”

     “Says the boy that made me smile while I was crying.”

A short few seconds of silence passed, and Satori realized that his new favorite thing was hugging you when the two of you were supposed to be in your dorms.

     “Ne, (y/n)-chan?”

     “Hm?”

     “You’re my girlfriend, right?”

The resemblance to your old conversation made you smile, but this was not that time. This was something else.

     “Yeah,” You tightened your grip around his waist, “Yeah, I guess I am.”

[lilith-lovett]

Found Families - Home is Where the Hart is - Chapter Twenty Four

I am finally back on a proper writing schedule and I am back with a new one. I have been looking forward to writing this scene since the very beginning and it is finally here. Thank you for you continued support. Safe safe x

Masterlist

Summary: A bad night to a happy day

Word Count: 5459

Warnings: Past child abuse, anxiety, self-deprecation, disordered eating, implied depression, panic attack, flashback, food mention, knife mention, nightmare, swearing, implied self harm, unintentional self harm, hospital mention  (this one is dark) (if there is anything I have missed pleased let me know)

The day had finally arrived. Logan hardly slept at all, the nerves and excitement becoming overwhelming. Patton was taking him to the local school to speak with the principal - who was apparently Elliott’s father Thomas - about the possibility of Logan enrolling in the school in the following academic year. It had been six years since Logan attended any form of educational institution, since his parents removed him from elementary school in order to implement their own curriculum and to avoid any prying question in regards to Logan’s well-being. His first two orphanages had very limited access to resources, books and textbooks with no teachers. His third orphanage had a lot more resources and regularly scheduled lesson plans, with Maggie providing him with extra textbooks, books and projects to complete in his own time so he could have something resembling an ordinary education. In that environment he had quickly surpassed the level appropriate for his age category. Upon leaving the orphanage, Maggie had provided him with a collection of textbooks to carry on using to study while waiting for the new academic year to begin. The day had finally arrived.

Logan understood Patton’s apprehension but he needed to do something and attending school would provide the stimulation he required. He agreed to Patton’s idea of visiting the school and speaking with Mr Sanders in order to create a plan for his joining after the Summer. They had discussed it several times and Patton admitted it made him more comfortable having a detailed action plan and a line of contact with Mr Sanders about his situation, which Logan accepted as reasonable.

Logan had woken up early and immediately dressed himself before heading downstairs not expecting to see anyone else awake, considering the time, but surprisingly Patton was already up and preparing breakfast. Softly singing to himself, as the sweet smell of crofters and pancakes filled the room. This was an unusual occurrence for Patton for a number of reasons; he described himself as an ‘early bird’ but he was never up this early, breakfast on school days were normally simple due to Roman and Virgil’s bad habit of sleeping in. Pancakes and more elaborate breakfasts were reserved for weekends and special occasions. Perhaps, today was a special occasion Logan simply wasn’t aware of. It didn’t take long for Patton to notice Logan, the surprise present on his face.  

“Oh, hello, kiddo, I am guessing you are up early because of school, I wish Roman and Virgil were this excited for school,” Patton chuckled as he continued on prepare breakfast but must have caught Logan’s perplexed expression. “Oh, you are probably wondering why I am up so early? I thought since today is special day for you, we would have a special breakfast,”.

Patton continued chatting to Logan as he prepared breakfast while Logan sat at the kitchen table listening, responding whenever necessary until Patton placed a stack of pancakes and a variety of toppings including Logan’s favourite crofters in the centre of the table.

“Tuck in, I am going to go wake up the rest of them,” Patton said to him before disappearing up the stairs.

Logan took a singular pancake and slathered it in a healthy helping of jam. He was eating significantly more than he had prior living at the orphanage but his appetite was still minimal at best. He pretended not to notice the concerned glances Patton gave him whenever he didn’t finish a meal. Logan was fine. He was eating. More than he ever had been in fact. There was nothing unusual about him not finishing a meal. It was just another one of his habits. Logan began eating as Roman, Virgil and Declan were herded downstairs, still dressed in their pyjamas, by Patton. Everyone settled at the table before digging into their own plates of food. Drowsy small talk was exchanged and once Logan had eaten exactly half of what was on his plate he excused himself to finish preparing for the day ahead. Once again Patton gave him a worried look before sighing and clearing his plate.

A short while later, it was time to leave. They were leaving earlier than usual to drop Declan off at Dot and Larry’s house so Patton could attend the meeting with Logan. They all got into the car, Roman once again called shotgun, bounding towards the front of the car while Patton buckled Declan into the car seat in the centre of the back seat while Virgil and Logan sat on either side. The car ride was certainly lively, with Patton and Roman singing along to the radio and Declan babbling some sort of nonsense to Virgil who responded as if he perfectly understood everything he said. The nervousness was still building within Logan’s chest so he decided to remain silent.

Fifteen minutes passed and they were pulling into the school’s car park, several other families surrounded the building awaiting the bell, indicating the beginning of the school day. It was a large building, two separate entrances. One for the middle school and one for the high school as they buildings were combined, a large playground area containing various pieces of play equipment with a number of screaming children climbing all over it. Logan flinched away from the noise, raising a hand to his ear to block out the sound, an action Patton seemed to notice.

“Hey, Logan, how about we head inside?” Patton asked placing a hand on Logan shoulders, giving it a comforting squeeze as he gestured towards the closest entrance. “Okay, kiddos, I am going now, I’ll see you two later. I love you,”.

“Love you too, padre,” Roman exclaimed quickly running off into the crowds, disappearing from sight.

“Bye, dad. Bye, L,” Virgil said walking to a quiet corner of the playground, separated from the rest of the crowds. Logan knew Virgil hated crowded places so this behaviour made sense.

“Come on Logan,” Patton said leading Logan into the school building.

The main office was located relatively close to the entrance, Patton needed to sign in and struck up a friendly conversation with the women working there. A lot of talk about their families and traditional small talk. She asked Logan a couple of questions which he answered cordially until Patton had completed filling out the form. They said their goodbyes and Patton led him through the long, winding corridors filled with empty classrooms, towards Mr Sanders office. Once they arrived, Patton knocked on the door and a voice rang out, inviting them inside.

They entered Mr Sanders office, it was highly decorated; photographs, knick-knacks and various figurines on his desk and sat behind it was Mr Sanders, a wide smile across his face when he saw them. He appeared to be off a similar age to Patton, straight dark brown hair which swooped across his forehead and dressed smartly in a navy blue casual suit and tie combination. The nervousness hadn’t stopped building and was about bursting out of him by the time Patton led him into the office. What if he failed the test? What if they didn’t want him to attend the school? What would he do then?

“Hello, Patton, Logan,” Mr Sanders said standing reaching a hand out to Patton and then out to Logan before he indicated for them to sit. “So Patton tells me that you are are wanting to enrol in the school in the new academic year? That is wonderful and we can definitely arrange that, now Patton has told me some of the situation involving your home life and lack of official schooling, I also got into contact with your former tutor Miss Blair and she tells me that you have kept up with education and surpassed the standard level for your age group?”.

“Um…yes…I have been keeping up with studying,” Logan answered things were going well so far. He hadn’t been rejected yet.

“That is very responsible of you. Well with all of this information, I would like you to take a couple of tests so we can determine what grade you would be most comfortable in, considering your age you would normally enter grade 7 but because of your prior teaching I want to give you the opportunity to potentially progress to the next grade,” Mr Sanders explained taking out a pile of papers from his desk drawer. Tests. Logan could do tests. Actually he excelled at them. Test questions had answers, answers which could be figured out with the right equations or methods. Yes, Logan could do tests. “What do you think about that?”.

“I can do that,” Logan responded instantly, excited to finally be stimulated by some challenging questions.

“I love the enthusiasm,” Mr Sander’s said with a chuckle. “I’ll allow you to do the tests in here and Patton and I will have a chat about all of the details, just come and get us once you are finished,”.

Logan nodded in response as Patton gave him a comforting squeeze and ruffled his hair before leaving with Mr Sander, leaving him alone in the office with only the small stacks of test papers. Opening the first page he began.

 “I don’t think I have ever met a child who was actually excited about taking a test before,” Thomas said as he closed the door behind him, attempting to stifle his laughter.

“That’s Logan for you,” Patton said with a chuckle. “He was super excited to come here today, he has been talking about enrolling in school for ages now but I wanted him to settle in a little before he did,”.

“That was a smart decision, has he been settling well?” Thomas inquired as Patton recalled the past few weeks. It had certainly been interesting. The highs were high; Roman’s birthday, their family movie nights, seeing Logan slowly come out of his shell. However, the lows were extremely low; the breakdowns, the constant fear of abandonment and the insecurity which couldn’t be quelled with words alone. Last nights conversation was a singular step in the seemingly never-ending staircase in the process of trying to get Logan to see his own worth, to convince him Patton wasn’t going to leave and he could finally let go of all of the pain.

“It has been hard. Really hard. I know it will be a difficult process and I know I can’t make everything better but I hate that feeling of hopelessness,” Patton admitted with a sigh. He knew from the beginning it wouldn’t be all sunshine and roses, he had been through a similar situation with Virgil and Dee but Logan is older and so too intelligent for his own good, he hid so much of how he truly felt until it exploded out of him.    

“I understand the feeling, I think we all want things to be easier but all you can do is too give it time. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself. This is a new environment for Logan and for you too, it is normal for things to be a bit rocky at the beginning and it will never be all smooth-sailing but the important thing is that you are trying and constantly working to be there for Logan,” Thomas responded placing a comforting hand on Patton’s shoulder. “You are doing the best you can and I’m sure Logan sees that too,”.

“Thank you, Thomas,” Patton said he knew Thomas was correct, Emile had been repeating the same information to him for years. It was difficult to see the progress they had made when they were still going through the lows but he knew it would all be worth it. They are a family now and together they would be able to handle anything, no matter how low the lows got, the highs would always be worth it.

Patton and Thomas continued talking, primarily how Logan’s enrolment into the school would work, for Patton’s own peace of mind. He had had similar discussions with Roman and Virgil’s teachers surrounding accommodations for their mental health problems and everyone he spoke too was extremely kind and willing to adapt for their benefit. So, Patton wasn’t necessarily worried in that regards but Logan was entering school far later than he should have and hadn’t been in such an environment before. He would be entering at a pivotal part of his educational career and while Logan was incredibly intelligent he lacked the social skills of children his age. What if he couldn’t handle such a drastic change in environment? It had taken him a while to adjust to moving from the orphanage to Patton’s house, what if moving to school caused a similar issue? What if he was bullied? Patton had witnessed first hand the torment Logan had to endure at the hands of the other children at the orphanage, to the extent he had gotten used to it, would the same occur in the classroom? Would Logan assume it was normal as he had likely experienced worse? Patton froze in place at the thought, his heart hurt merely thinking about. Maybe he and Logan should talk through a couple more options before making their decision?

“Patton, are you alright?” Thomas asked, waving a hand in front of Patton’s face as he snapped out of his brain funk.

“Ah, sorry, I just zoned out for a minute there,” Patton answered quickly, plastering on a smile, sensing his face glowing red with embarrassment.

“You’re worried about Logan, aren’t you?” Thomas pressed as Patton smile fell. Thomas always was super perceptive, he could never hide anything from him. “He will be fine, he will have access to all of the support we have available here and I will personally keep an eye out for him and you’ll be the first to now if anything does happen,”.

“Thank you, Thomas, I feel a lot better now,” Patton said and he meant it. Patton trusted Thomas wholeheartedly, he was aware of both Roman and Virgil’s struggles and agreed to do the same for them which definitely settled some of Patton’s anxieties. Also perhaps he was just over-thinking and Logan would thrive in the new, highly academic environment, overall helping to develop his social and personable skills. Yes Patton, think positive thoughts.

Just as Thomas was about to lead Patton to a waiting area for them to sit and continue their discussion, there was a sharp knock on the door. Before it opened revealing Logan, test papers in hand and a small smile on his face.

“I believe I have finished,” Logan said holding his papers out towards Thomas who failed to disguise his shock as he took Logan’s test papers into his hands.

“You-you’re finished…but its…” Thomas quickly glanced at his watch. “Only been fifteen minutes. Are you sure you are finished, did you check everything over?”.

“Yes, I reviewed everything thoroughly to locate any mistakes so I could remedy them, I am finished,” Logan stated once again, rather bluntly.

“Wow…That's…wow. How did you find it?” Thomas asked as he swiftly flicked through the papers, presumably to ensure Logan had indeed completed every question. Which he had.

“It was relatively simple, however, a few question did provide an enjoyable challenge,” Logan responded. Thomas’s expression shifted to one of awe. He had explained to Patton that the test was used in rare occasions, such as if a student wanted to transfer into a class of a higher difficultly level to assess if they could handle the increased difficultly. Traditionally reserved for older students but Thomas suggested for Logan to take it considering his situation and background. Patton believed that Thomas had assumed Logan would struggle or at least take longer than fifteen minutes to complete it.

“Wow…well that is really good…it’ll be about a week until I’ll be able to give you your results and then we can talk about what comes next after that. Is that alright with you Logan?” Thomas asked.

“Yes, thank you, Mr Sanders,” Logan responded with a small, careful smile.

“No problem Logan, I’m looking forward to seeing you in the new school year,” Thomas said, leading them both to the exit as they all said their goodbyes, waving to Patton and Logan as they left, entering into the now empty playground.

“Ah Logan, I am so proud of you!” Patton exclaimed throwing his arms around Logan, squeezing him close to his chest. Logan groaned but didn’t protest or attempt to move away and as Patton glanced down he noticed the tiny, precious smile on his face. Patton didn’t restrain his squeal. “Aw, you are so cute”.

“I am not” Logan grumbled shrugging out of the hug but the smile remained, making Patton smiled even larger.

“When we get home let’s have a super, super special day. We already had a special breakfast, lets have a special lunch and dinner too. Oohh and a movie night afterwards,” Patton rambled, his brain going a mile a minute with so many ideas of how to make tonight extra super special, of all of the different meals he could make, desserts to bake, fun snack ideas and a list of potential movies to watch.

“What is the special occasion?” Logan asked as he climbed into the front seat.

“This is the special occasion, silly,” Patton responded turning on the radio.

“Today wasn’t particular special,” Logan said.

“Of course it is and anyway everyday can be a special day if you want it to be, it is what you do with it that makes it special,” Patton explained as they began driving home.

“I suppose that makes sense, it is the actions which make the day and not the occasion itself,” Logan answered.

“Exactly,”.

They drove home, picking up Dee on the way. While Patton prepared their lunch and did some preparatory work for the meal he had planned for dinner and broke out his recipe books, searching for tasty desserts to make. While Logan attempted to entertain Dee. They ate lunch together, listening to Dee’s babbling nonsense as he recounted his morning with grandma and grandpa, however, he and Logan both nodded along as if he were speaking perfect English. Logan helped with the dishes and they continued preparations for dinner, they talked about the test and Logan divulged his solutions and methods for solving each question. Roman and Virgil returned home and assisted in dinner preparations creating quite the mess but Patton couldn’t be happier. He made sure to take many, many pictures for his photo-album. They each made their own pizzas, decorating them with a variety of toppings. While they were cooking in the oven, they moved onto the desserts. A lemon cheesecake and shortbread biscuits. The kitchen was enveloped with so many amazing smells. Following an incredible dinner and dessert, Roman and Virgil set into action preparing the living room for their movie night; layering blankets and pillows across the sofa, arguing over the superior snack and arguing over which Disney movie they should rewatch (they ultimately agreed on The Princess and the Frog as it was one of the few remaining Princess films Logan hadn’t seen yet). In no time at all everyone was bundled up on the sofa together, singing along with Tiana’s ‘Almost There’. Patton couldn’t imagine a more perfect end to the night, surrounded by precious children, safe and happy even including Logan who smiled contentedly at the television, tapping his fingertips against the arm of the armchair (which had seemingly now been dubbed as ‘Logan’s armchair’) along to the beat. Patton was truly the luckiest man in the world.

 ...the knife plunged into his chest…

Logan awoke with a start, scrambling for the light switch, allowing a soft light to enter the room, dispelling the darkness invading his mind, pushing it back into the shadowed corners. He curled in on himself, raising his hands to his chest, sensing the rapid beating of his heart within his ribcage as he struggled to catch his breath. Why? Why was this happening? Why now? There had been no trigger. No warning signs. He hadn’t experienced any adverse emotions today. So why? Why was he brought back to that place. Logan clawed at his neck and chest, in attempt to rid himself of the sensation of their hands, the cool edge of the blade, the stinging pain. But it remained as if the memories were branded there like a tattoo, no amount of scrubbing could ever remove. He grasped the small bear he slept with every night, sinking his nails into its soft fur to prevent him from turning them on himself, despite the near overwhelming desire for distraction from the voices echoing over and over again in his mind. He needed to calm down. He was already descending into hyperventilation and if he failed to get his breathing under control he would likely wake and alert the others, which was the last thing he wanted to occur. SO, GET IT TOGETHER, GOD DAMNIT!

Patton’s kind words entered his mind, reminding him of the breathing technique he had shown and helped him through on several occasions. Logan refused to disturb Patton at this hour over something so insignificant so decided to count through it himself. He brought his trembling hand, still clutching the toy to his chest. Moving with the expanding and deflating of his chest cavity. It took several frustrating tries of repeating the cycle before his breathing eventually began to slow, guided by Patton’s words and the pain eased. Logan prepared to attempt to lull himself back to sleep to combat the inevitable exhaustion he would feel tomorrow but just as he buried himself underneath his covers. A terror-fuelled scream forced him to his feet.

The screaming did not stop and was coming directly from Virgil and Declan’s room across the hall. What was happening? What manner of horrible thing was occurring to produce that reaction? Logan brain wouldn’t cease. Imagining scene after horrifying scene. He shook the images from his head and grabbed his glasses from his night-stand and rushed out of his room just in time to see Patton running into Virgil and Declan’s room. From his position by the door Logan could see Virgil’s trembling figure, hands desperately clawing at his skin as he screamed and cried out. Patton immediately took Virgil’s hands to prevent him from harming himself any further, attempting to talk to him as Virgil writhed in his grip.

“N-NO…NO…PLEASE…S-STOP…STOP IT…WHERE IS HE? WHERE IS HE!” Virgil shrieked as he struggled for every breath, his trembling body raked by tremors and seizing, fighting against Patton’s grasp but Patton held firm. Desperately trying to reach him with his soft, comforting words. “HURT ME INSTEAD…PLEASE DON’T HURT HIM…HURT ME…DON’T TOUCH HIM…W-WHERE IS HE?”.

Virgil’s screams only grew louder and more frantic in his anguish, as he begged for pain, begged for punishment, begged to take all of the hurt for himself to spare his brother. Logan’s gaze switched from Virgil to Declan who stood in his toddler bed, wailing, crying out for his brother, howling in their shared pain.

“Virgil, baby, look at me. Dee-Dee is okay, he is safe and so are you. Look at him, he is here and so are you. You aren’t there anymore,” Patton repeated softly, guiding Virgil’s head so he could see Declan, Patton then quickly stood, picking Declan up from his bed and placing him down onto Virgil’s bed before returning to holding Virgil arms and Virgil himself together as he broke down. Declan wrapped his tiny, shaking body around Virgil almost instinctively.

“I-I’m s-s-sorry…s-sorry…I-I’m bad…I’m bad…take me back…p-please…take me back,” Virgil whimpered almost inaudibly due to his gasps for air, in between pained wails. Virgil’s turmoil and breakdown was painful to watch, he couldn’t recall all the numerous times he had been in the same position, the same deafening thoughts circling like sharks in his mind awaiting the perfect moment to strike.

“No…no, you are not bad, you are perfect Virgil, okay? You are here. In your home. In your room. In your bed. I am here for you. I need you to breathe for me can you do that?” Patton asked extending a careful hand out towards Virgil’s chest and bringing Virgil’s hands which he still held in his own to his chest. “Just follow my breathing, you know what to do?”.

The breathing cycle began. Logan watched, frozen as they repeated it again and again and again. Until he was snapped out of his daze by a hand on his shoulder. He swiftly to see Roman, stony-faced and serious, very unlike the happy-go-lucky Roman from days prior, hour prior even. He had likely witnessed numerous of Virgil’s panic attacks in the past, knew his triggers and behaviours, knew his traumas and what he had been through before he was taken in by Patton.

“He had a flashback,” Roman stated with non of his usual flair or ferocity. “He used to get them all of the time, really bad ones, he would scream for hours that he was bad and that dad needed to take him back. They usually would only stop once he passed out but one time he got so sick and scared dad had to take him to the hospital, it was terrifying. At the time, I knew his mental health was bad but I had never, ever seen him like that before. It has been a while since his last one, I thought he was getting better,”.

Logan knew what a flashback was like. He had experienced them himself. Trapped in a loop of memories the past wouldn’t allow you to forget, replaying it over and over again until by some miraculous feat you broke out of it. He did not envy Roman, being forced to watch someone you care about go through something so horrible while being powerless to prevent or remedy it. It mustn’t have been easy growing up.

“I know you have nightmares too Logan,” Roman said unprompted. Logan’s body lurched, twisting rapidly toward Roman, reacting to what he had just said. “I can hear you in the middle of the night and it is obvious you aren’t sleeping,”.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Logan responded bluntly, turning away from Roman to once again face Patton and Virgil. Hoping he would drop the subject and not question him any further.

“Alright,” Roman answered and he remained true to his word, he didn’t probe any further.

Virgil’s breathing finally began to slow as did his whimpers and frantic whispering yet Patton’s comforting words and careful touch didn’t cease until Virgil’s body itself began to slow, as he quickly succumbed to exhaustion, allowing himself to slump into Patton’s open arms. Patton laid his sleeping figure down gently, covering his still trembling form with his weighted blanket before laying down next to him, running his fingers through Virgil’s hair, soothing him into what would be a hopefully dreamless slumber.

“Virg…Virge,” Declan whimpered reaching out towards Virgil.

“Come here, darling, come lie with daddy,” Patton whispered softly, urging Dee to lie down besides him. Patton held him close to his chest as they did and eventually he also drifted off to sleep along side Virgil as Patton watched over them.

Roman silently closed the door, removing any and all outside noise, allowing them all to sleep somewhat peacefully, despite the nights unpleasant events. Logan prepared to return to his room, to attempt to lull himself back to sleep. He expected Roman would do the same but instead Roman sat down on the hallway floor, back pressed against the door as if he were preparing to spend the night there.

“What are you doing Roman?” Logan asked curious to why Roman would decide to spend his night in the cold hallway rather than in the warmth of his own room.

“Just sitting here, I always do it, I’ll leave when dad does,” Roman explained. He was supporting Virgil the only way he knew how, by simply being present. It was a kind sentiment not the most practical but Logan didn’t want to argue so merely nodded and turned to return to his room.

“Night Logan,” Roman called out to him.

“Goodnight Roman,” Logan responded as he entered his room.

Logan did not sleep, given what he had seen, finding peace in sleep was impossible so he lay in bed, staring up at his imitation of the night sky. He sometimes wished he could lay underneath the real night sky, in a quiet, empty field, a cool breeze waving over him. Only himself and the stars. That would be nice.

Logan remained lost in his imagination until he caught a glimpse at his alarm clock, it had been half an hour since he entered his room and hadn’t heard Roman’s door. Was he still sitting outside of Virgil’s room? Perhaps Logan should check on him, just in case? Logan got out of his bed and left his room to see…yes…Roman, asleep, sitting on the floor. His head drooped to one side and his arms wrapped around his torso for warmth. There was a cool breeze present within the hallway, it sent a shiver through Logan’s body, he couldn’t imagine how cold Roman would be considering he was sleeping out here.

Logan went into Roman’s room picking up the soft, thick red blanket from his bed and bringing it out into the hallway, draping it over Roman’s sleeping form before returning to his own room. He sat on the edge of his bed, wide awake, he glanced upwards once again. At his stars. Despite their plastic construction, they provided him some sort of comfort. Logan didn’t understand why. It seemed he didn’t understand much of anything any more. Logan collapsed back onto this bed. He hoped Virgil was okay. Maybe, they could talk tomorrow. He wanted to support him through whatever had triggered his flashback but perhaps it was the similarities he shared with Virgil which resulted in this urge. The horrible things he screamed, Logan had often thought about himself but refused to voice, instead allowing them to infiltrate his mind and spiralling until he broke. Shattered. Unfixable. Broken. That is what he was.

Logan did not sleep that night.

Taglist: @i-do-not-dislike-fudge @poems-art-darkness-n-more @skylark-cain @amber1594 @darkrainbow333 @falseh0od @lovingcreatorstrawberry @gr3ml1n-loser @callboxkat @tacochippy @angelgrace003 @comicsimpson @themischievous-one  @cobythinks @whatschooldoesntteachyou @fandomkitty8 @coloursintheblur @read-write-inspire-repeat @clinicalawesomeness @janus-sanders-deserves-better @scared-ghosthunter @silverstarlinedart @winterrose42 @dumbgayemo @imthatgrace2 @glitchybina @quietwords-loudthoughts @vanilla-rose-swirl @laurabrand

If you have any requests or questions about the series or want to be added to the taglist please don’t hesitate to send me an ask. Thanks.

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Halloween Coutdown - Burn

Summary: Hilda’s classmates are beginning to pick up on her witchcraft. She doesn’t care, but the librarian doesn’t like people talking about her apprentice behind her back. Family Fights Halloween themed ficlet

Notes: 4 days until Halloween!! This chapter takes place in the 5 month skip in Family Fights. If you haven’t read the fic and want to, the link is here. If you don’t feel like it, you just need to know that the librarian is training Hilda to be a witch.

(I dedicate this chapter to the awesome @mr-hyde-and-mr-seek, who unknowingly helped me pick the theme for ths fic and who just gives my writing and me more support than I could possibly hope for. Everyday is halloween when I’m with you, fren <3)

Read it on ao3

Spooky song rec: Burn The Witch by Queens of the Stone Age

It had been years since Maven had set foot on Trolberg’s Elementary School. Before her sister had complained about it and asked her to stop doing it, she’d often pick Myra up when her classes were over. The last time she’d been there, it had probably been to walk her home.

Her own memories of the place felt more like a haze. She did remember that she’d attended that school, and that she’d had few friends and so spent her recesses in the library, and she even had some weirdly specific recollections of sneaking out of physical education to write stories in a secluded corner of the dressing room. She wasn’t there for her sister, though, much less for the pleasure of remembering her childhood years. That day, she was there to pick her apprentice up.

Leaning against the grids that surrounded the school, the librarian watched a group of children walk by her, complaining about how unfair it was that they would have classes on Halloween, and she thought about how much easier this was for people for whom All Souls Night was just another holiday. Being a witch, she had much more ease sensing the things that lurked in the shadows at that time of the year, and they were more likely to target her as well. That was exactly the reason why she’d asked Hilda to allow her to accompany her home that day, even though it wouldn’t really be Halloween until midnight.

She was probably exaggerating on her worry, but a young witch with too much power and not enough control over it was the perfect target for all the dark creatures that arose when the veil got thinner. When she’d talked about this to her, Hilda had promised not to leave her house alone on Halloween, especially since there would be no fun in trick or treating alone, anyway. She did, however, reveal that she walked to her house alone after school, and Maven was not completely at ease with that.

When she asked Hilda if she’d allow her to pick her up at school, the girl hadn’t looked like she’d wanted to comply, though she tried to hide it. Even when she accepted, she didn’t act very happy about the prospect. Maven didn’t think it was anything she’d done that had upset Hilda, since they had been talking normally just seconds before, which left her to wonder about Hilda’s behaviour.

Walking side by side with her two closest friends, Maven noticed Hilda leaving her school’s main building when she waved enthusiastically at her, now acting as happy as ever, if a little nervous. After they said their goodbyes, the trio parted ways. The girl returned inside the school, the boy left for the school’s auditorium, and Hilda ran her way.

“Hey, Mave!” She greeted joyfully. “Good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon. How are you?”

“I’m fine.” Hilda began walking, taking the lead since she knew the way to her house way better than Maven did. “What about you? Have you done anything interesting today?”

“If by interesting you mean magical, then no, That will only begin tomorrow.”

At the mention of magic, Hilda glanced around, which made Maven lift her eyebrows. She’d never seen Hilda being skittish before, and she didn’t even think the girl had it in her to be.

“Are you sure everything is fine, Hildie? You seem a little bit… off.”

“Me? Oh no, I’m fine!” She assured, clearly lying. Knowing she’d been caught, Hilda was about to come up with an excuse when they heard a gasp. They still hadn’t left the school’s block, and on the other side of the grids there was a playground for the children. Inside it, a boy was pointing at her.

“I knew it! I knew you were a witch! You’re with the witch librarian!”

Hilda sighed wearily, and Maven crossed her arms. Her apprentice had told her about the boy, and how his misadventures with the Great Raven had led him to believe she was a witch, a belief that had only gotten stronger when he heard her chanting a small good luck charm before an exam.

“Trevor.” Hilda groaned. “Can you please just leave me-”

“Little child, you shouldn’t go around saying things like that!” Maven whispered with fake alarm in her voice. Hilda’s face was confused as her mentor kneeled down to the ground to get on the boy’s level. She looked around, as if making sure no one could hear her, and after noticing this Trevor got closer, curious at the prospect of a secret.

“It is dangerous to speak the way you do. Especially at this time of the year! Do you know which day tomorrow is? The real witches might hear you.”

Apprehensively, he took a step back. “T- the real witches?”

“Oh, yes.” Maven widened her eyes, trying to give herself the appearance of a madwoman. “Has nobody ever told you? No, I suppose they wouldn’t tell this to a child. Trolberg was built upon the grounds in which witches were burnt in ancient times. And every year in All Souls’ Night, they come out for anyone who even vaguely reminds them of their persecutors!” 

It was clear that Maven had scared the boy. He was fidgeting nervously and stuttered when he spoke. Her apprentice, on the other hand, was watching her with curious eyes.

“They come… come out? To do what?”

Abruptly, Maven grasped the grids and and pulled her body forward, her face only inches from him.

“TO BURN THEM!”

Trevor began screaming and ran away with fright. Barely containing her laughter, the librarian stood up again and took Hilda’s hand.

“Let’s get out of here before he comes back with an adult and I get sued.”

They ran away to the next block playfully, Hilda’s giggles stopping Maven from regretting wasting her time on some ignorant kid. When they had left the school behind, they returned to their normal pace.

“Is that why you were worried?” The librarian asked, noticing Hilda looked much lighter now. Rubbing her neck, Hilda nodded.

“Yeah. I don’t really mind him calling me a witch. He’s a nasty person, really. I just didn’t want him to give you a hard time. I heard him calling you a witch too one day, you know, and his mother will believe anything he says. I was afraid he’d try and cause you some trouble, is all.”

Touched by Hilda’s worry for her, Maven put a hand on her shoulder affectionately.

“Don’t worry, Hildie, I don’t think there’s anything he can do against me. This sort of person already doesn’t go to the library, anyway.”

Hilda chuckled and smiled up at her.

“Yeah, they probably don’t. Was any of what you said true, by the way? About the witches?”

This time it was Maven who chuckled, thinking about the bunch of nonsense she’d come up with.

“No, I was just trying to scare the boy into being a little less unbearable. The city doesn’t really like us, but there were never witch burnings in this area. Plus, we are the real witches.”

Both relieved to know the city hadn’t, in fact, been built upon witch hunt grounds, and emboldened by Maven’s statement, the girl stood up straighter as she walked. They began trading stories about their days, the librarian listening eagerly as her apprentice told her about her classes and her friends. Eventually, though, when they were close to arriving in Hilda’s home, she restarted on their previous topic.

“I’m glad you came with me.” She said. “I’m not too worried about these creatures you mentioned, but… I did always find humans scarier.”

Looking up at her mentor, Hilda was somewhat surprised to find the utter empathy on her face.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Hilda nodded.

“I do too. Unfortunately I came to find there are humans much scarier than any monster that I have seen. There are monsters who resent witches, of course, since technically we’re humans. But to some humans, we fall in the same category as said monsters. At least magical creatures aren’t too selfishly scared of us to try and see past their prejudices.”

“That’s exactly it!” Hilda exclaimed. When she came to think of it, that was the first time in her life someone seemed to understand that part of her. “There are great humans, obviously. It’s just kind of scary to try to find out which type of human each one is.”

“And yet we keep on trying. That’s how brave we are.”

“Yeah!” As she raised her hand to high five Maven, she noticed that she didn’t seem too used to the gesture. Hilda hadn’t been either, since she grew up in the wilderness and learned about it with David and Frida, but it struck her as odd since the librarian had grown up in the city.

Soon they arrived at the building in which Hilda lived, and she opened the door.

“Do you want to come inside? Mum is home, we could have some tea.”

“Not today, but thank you.” She nodded discreetly, a small gesture that showed that she was indeed grateful for the invitation. When Hilda was stepping into the building, she spoke again.

“If anyone else gives you a hard time… please tell me about it. I don’t want you to suffer because of who you are.” Maven didn’t know what she’d do in case Hilda did tell her in the future about another mean kid. Past experience showed that she wasn’t apt to handle bullying of any sort, heaven knew. But the thought of Hilda being picked on, especially because of something that was in a way Maven’s fault, didn’t sit well with her.

“Don’t worry, Maven.” Bringing her hand to her forehead, Hilda made a signal which Maven thought was probably the Sparrow Scouts salutation. Never having been part of the group, she didn’t know for sure. “This witch won’t burn!”

They smiled one last time at each other and said their goodbyes. The girl closed the door behind her, but Maven spent a few seconds staring at the wood. Now that she was alone, she got an uncomfortable, sick feeling on her belly. It seemed that the encounter with the boy had affected her more than she had thought, and much more than it should have.

“No.” She whispered, even though there was no one around to hear her. “I will make sure you won’t.”

[atiny-piratequeen]

Hello everyone. I’m here to get a bit serious, but I don’t apologize for my tone in this. 

Truth be told, I’m vibrating in pure rage at this, but I’ll do my best to formulate what I have to say in a mature manner. I will also lead off by saying, in the event that any of you happen to follow the link to report the work or tell the op to take it down, please remain respectful and keep your tones mature. I’m not keen on the idea of mobbing someone and bullying them (even though I feel very hurt and wronged), and I am only posting this link here for us to one) politely and maturely tell the plagiarizer to take down my work and two) hopefully locate the authors of the other stolen works.

Today, thanks to a followertiny-I won’t name bc idk if you feel comfortable with that-informed me of my work (Specifically, 1:28am, the Jongho Jacob’s Ladder piece I posted a month or so ago) being reposted onto Wattpad. 

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I do NOT allow reposting of my works ANYWHERE.

All of my necessary accounts I post to have links available to them that are easily accessible either in my bio or my masterlist. If I had any update in this, you all would know. 

I do not consent to ANYONE taking my work off of their designated sites. Hell, my timestamps aren't even on my ao3 account. (I consider them little lovely gifts for my tumblrtiny followers so I haven’t really posted any of them there for that reason, though I may in the future). I do not use FF, Wattpad, and most of my works are too long for me to post to my Twt. I wouldn’t put them on YT or anywhere else. 

I’ve been writing fics for over a decade, the first thing I posted was a rinky dink pokemon fic as a literal elementary school kid in like ‘07, ‘08 on fucking Quizilla. That site doesn’t even exist anymore. Even then, I have never stolen or plagiarized anyone's work. I do nothing here but try and boost up my fellow writers, but this? Stealing? This isn’t it. 

What’s worse, is it not just my Jongho fic affected. This person has not only stolen my work, but the works of other writers to tack on together for their ‘daddy’ story or whatever, some of the writers not even being Atiny, as Admin Cy of KSC has pointed out to me, they’ve even stolen works from Army writer, since one of their stolen Yeosang pieces refers to him as ‘Jungkook’, but a few sentences down, he’s back to being Yeosang. There are also at least two works as part of this person’s stolen collection that are stolen from @ateezlust ,as well as them stealing from OTHER writers on OTHER sites as well

If you have all the energy to take and edit and steal people’s work, I highly suggest looking into making some of your own. 

There is nothing wrong with being inspired. I’m inspired by the writers and media around me when I write. But taking someone’s work, covering it up to pretend like it’s yours, changing the original author’s words here and there to try and tailor it for you...that disgusts me. 

I don’t care how ‘bad’ you think your writing is. How much you talk yourself down and say you’ll never be as good as the ‘popular’ authors, you keep trying. You work hard. You adapt over time. What we aren’t gonna do, is take someone else’s hard work and claim it as your own because you can’t be assed to better yourself. That’s what we won’t do. 

It is well known here that I personally sometimes stay up to ungodly hours of the morning to make my content for you all. So this really...disgusts me on so many more levels. My content, and the content of other creators is not here for you to steal and put on your fridge and say it’s your own. Most of us put these things here for free. The least you can do is respect us as creators and our work. 

I’ve issued a full DMCA takedown of the stolen work and Admin Cy is working hard behind the scenes to find the other authors of the other stolen works bc of course, like with most shameless reposters, they usually steal more than one. I take this very seriously and just so everyone is clear;

Plagiarism is illegal. It is punishable by law. 

Just because my work is not fully original and it does use idols or whoever I decide to write a fic about, does not omit it from the fact that legal action can and will be taken. As the writer, I own the copyrights to my own work and if I find my shit on your blog, you bet your ass I’m gonna have it shut down. 

Share works, support them, be inspired by them, but do NOT go and fucking slap us creators in the face like this by stealing our shit, especially when you try to pass this off as your own. 

If you are reading this, and have someone else's work reposted somewhere else, I implore you to take it down, apologize to the person you stole it from (whether they caught wind or not, you owe them that much for stealing in the first place) and reevaluate yourself. Better yourself as a person and then try the writing thing again. Your own work this time.

And those of you who may scoff at this, think you can't be caught, think somehow in your mind that you stealing peoples work for your own selfish benefit is okay...unfollow me. Leave and dont come back. All of my works, dont touch them. I dont need likes or reblogs or comments from someone who would so carelessly put aside a content creator's feelings and ignore the fact that we all say this to people, writers and artists alike to NOT repost our hard work.

Idk where you're from in the world, its 2020, the concept of "reposting is stealing" /"dont repost my work" is not foreign or some niche thing. We have artists and authors who post it in their bios and everything telling you not to repost bc they're tired of it. You have NO excuse for this behavior and if you condone this behavior and see nothing wrong with these actions, I ask you leave my blog(s) and dont come back. I do not tolerate this at all, not for myself or others.

Thank you.

-Fie, Atiny-PirateQueen/Flora-Jimin

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

I Need to Talk About “Problematic Faves” within TWDG [3/?]

Character design, being drawn towards characters we find visually attractive, and how big of a role in plays in our feelings towards them.

“He's a murderer but like.... a cute murderer, y’know?”

This goes hand in hand with the whole first impressions thing we’re talking about, but rather than talking about the character’s traits, dialogue, history, and overall character, we’re talking about physical appearance.

This is something I want to touch on even though I already know the answer to it. It’s just a food for thought sort of idea that I wanted to explore given how much we talk about our favorite characters appearances while discussing them with one another.

Let’s face it: We’re all a little shallow at some point in our lives.

“Don’t judge a book by it’s cover” is bullshit. I pick up that book in the first place because it’s pretty and has sprayed edges. The only reason I put it back it is because I can’t find an actual summary of the book because publishers think we want to read a bunch of “Best book of da year!” by Who The Fuck Cares written all over the place rather than an actual summary...

....What was my point?

Oh, right, character design.

When we’re first introduced to a character, we immediately make a judgement of them based off their looks.That’s not to say that our opinions remain the same based on our first impressions after only looking at them, but it’s something we do initially. 

Game developers, artists, writers, and directors will usually strive to make their characters as visually appealing to us as possible because that’s what makes us go “ohhh they pretty *picks thing up.*” 

There are issues that develop from this, such as unrealistic expectations of what true beauty is and how it actually affects the audience. After taking in so much of this content, I started to wonder if it had any affect on why we have “Problematic Faves” and if there IS something linked within the way we view them as physically attractive. 

While I believe that appearance is an important factor in character development and is what draws us to them, it’s also a bit more complicated than that.

One of the many things I adore about the final season is it’s character design for all the students at Ericson. All of the Ericson kiddos have their own unique looks and manners of which they hold themselves.

Sure we’ve got Louis and Violet, who we all gush about all the time on how beautiful they are. How many times have we talked about Louis’ freckles or Violet’s eyes or just how gosh darn pretty we think they are while incorporating it into writing our fanfics or headcanons or creating out artworks of them?

But what’s great is that they aren’t all “conveniently attractive” or someone a shallow Hollywood director would look at one time and say “there’s our star!”

Willy is a fan favorite among many in our community. What I love about his design is his teeth. He’s a kid growing up in the apocalypse without proper dental care. His teeth are crooked, there are gaps between them, and he’s even missing some. If that same Hollywood director were to look at him, they’d either slap some extreme braces on him or cast him as a tree troll. 

But not everyone has those perfectly straight pearly whites. Some of us have crooked teeth, or we’ve had painful braces to try and straighten them, or we’ve lost or broken a tooth at some point. You know how refreshing it is to see a character as likable as Willy show up with that smile of his while still being considered a fan favorite? 

Speaking of refreshing, what about Ruby? Everyone loves Ruby. She’s not tall and thin, she’s short and thicker. 

I remember seeing nasty posts questioning why someone like Aasim would have any interest in her because of the way she’s built, and that that pisses me off. 

It’s so damn great to see someone like Ruby portrayed the way she is in this game. As someone who IS more on the shorter and heavier side, it’s hard to find a character like this who doesn’t suddenly become slim therefore “prettier” over the course of the story or who isn’t a terrible or whose weight and build is all their character is. The last movie I watched that featured a plus size main character was that god awful Sierra Burgess movie on Netflix and that character made me want to punch things. 

All I can say is thank god for Ruby.

Speaking of which, how about Omar? He’s short and stocky, too, but y’know what? We made this dude a GOD. What does that tell you?

These are examples using more minor characters that fall into that non-”Problematic Fave” tier, but what about our characters that do?

I used to have a strong theory that some characters got more love and attention JUST because they’re more attractive to the audience, even if their character is boring, holds little to no plot relevance, or is an “evil” being beyond forgiveness.  

It’s a theory that I believe still holds some truth, though I think that truth lies more with the younger fans, or those who aren’t quite as mature. 

As someone who has worked around elementary school children, as well as 13-14 year olds, I think I can safely make the assumption that they tend to take things at face value a good chunk of the time.

Pretty person = Good!

Not pretty person = Bad!

That sort of deal. 

So, the question I pose is:

Does a character’s level of attractiveness have an effect on our willingness to forgive some of their more problematic behaviors?

I’m sure most of you read that and said “Uh, is this a trick question? No?”

When you think about the kinds of stories that we’re always told about the beautiful princesses who are pure and good and the ugly stepmothers who are evil and bad, it’s not hard to see why the younger ones would see things as more black and white rather than a shade of gray. 

If the pretty princess poisons her “evil” stepmother during their morning tea, how easily do we forgive her just because we’re told that she’s a pure, pretty princess? We know poisoning someone is bad, but... if the stepmother was ugly and evil, then the princess must have had a reason for doing this, right? So... it’s okay... right?

Is the princess justified in her actions, even if the stepmother wasn’t doing anything more than drinking her morning tea?

I look at that and say, “No,” whereas a much younger person might say, “Yeah. The stepmother was evil.” 

Young children are fascinating to talk to, by the way. They’re sponges who absorb knowledge like you wouldn’t believe but somehow they still take everything at that face value and believe whatever the “good” person says in a story until you help them see the bigger picture. That’s why they tend to be more susceptible to falling for twists. 

But once you explain to them the more complicated elements of the princess and the stepmother, they’re intelligent enough to grasp that the princess is wrong. 

I believe once we grow older and open ourselves up to more complex stories full of gray characters, learning about them through experience, we start to see that beauty isn’t just in the eye in the beholder, but also that it doesn’t mean shit at the end of the day. 

You can have the most beautiful person in the world be your main character, but if that beautiful person drowns a bag full of kittens, suddenly they aren’t so attractive, now are they?

One of a kid’s favorite example of a good-looking antagonist is Hans from Frozen. 

While I think the whole “he was actually evil the whole time haha we fooled you” thing in that movie is garbage, I give it credit for being the first exposure of this concept to young kids, sending them down a path of looking at different characters they see in a new light. 

We like characters who are attractive because, well, they’re attractive. But we’re  also mature enough to know that their attractiveness isn’t solely based on their appearance. It’s merely the seed that only grows with development, personality, and an arc. It only makes up a small portion of why we like a character in the first place. We know that just because someone is good-looking, it doesn’t justify their actions. 

But for those who are still growing out of those black and while fairy tales and just starting to expand their views of different characters while learning that looks can be deceiving, are they more likely to forgive a character or not fully understand that they’re in the wrong just because they’re visually pleasing? 

Another example outside of TWDG that I can give you is Nathan Prescott from the game Life is Strange. I’ve mentioned this game several times before, and even wrote a whole segment on it in my Louis and Violet essay from a while back. 

When I was a young lass, I picked up this game and really liked it. I wasn’t as into it as I am TWDG, but I liked it enough to play every episode as it came out and then check the tag to see what everyone thought. 

While browsing this tag, I noticed that a lot of the fan base seemed young. Makes sense, it IS a game starring teens set in an academy setting and I was young, too. 

But with that, one thing that always bothered me was how a number of young people talked about Nathan. 

Nathan who, if you haven’t played the game, is one of the antagonists. They would gush about this kid, seeming to make up excuses for the appalling things he did and it felt very tied to his looks. 

I’m sorry to any Life is Strange fans who might’ve been one of these young fans... but that really is the impression I got at the time.

Maybe I just didn’t get the hype about this dude who drugged girls so he could pose and take pictures of them because of his weirdly under-explained relationship with the surprise villain of the story, but he doesn’t seem like the type of guy to get all “Poor, precious, beautiful baby boi didn’t deserve this !” about. 

Then again, if writing this has taught me anything, I might have missed something by not being involved with that fandom, but what I gathered was that he didn’t become the redeemable character they all thought he would be and they didn’t like that, so it becomes harder to try and justify the things he did because he didn’t end up being good in the end even though they all thought he would be. I guess. 

But, gathering that a lot of them were so young and going off the content I predominately saw... I don’t know. It didn’t ever feel right. I had suspicions that lead to this theory. That’s what I’m saying. 

This can apply to other fandoms, too, where a group of people will take a character/person they find attractive and gush about how pretty they are rather than anything else that makes them interesting. Not everyone, of course, but I get the feeling you all know what I mean and have come across something like it before. I’m just trying to explain it. 

Or maybe it is just me and you have no idea what I’m talking about. 

Either way. 

Returning back to our “Problematic Faves,” lets ask this question about them in particular. 

How much of David’s attractiveness plays into my love of him? 

I mean, he’s not a bad looking dude. In fact, I dare say that the Garcia brothers are both very attractive guys. I give ‘em both a 10/10. 

But does that actually aid in my actual feelings towards him at all? 

What about the others we’ve talked about so far?

I don’t see many people talking about how pretty they think Kenny is... though his mustache IS majestic and that’s something we all agree on.

And Lilly’s okay. I guess. 

Nate could be a good-looking dude if he’d just put his crazy eyes away.

I believe our best bet it in getting a more clear answer to this question would to be take a quick look back at Minerva.

Remember how I said Minerva was so hyped up based on a two second appearance in the ep3 trailer? Granted, we did have more than JUST her appearance to form this hype around.... but admit it, a huge part of the hype was how good she looked.

She looked awesome.

Hell, just seeing her had me excited to see what she would do in ep3, even though I had the feeling she wouldn’t be an ally.

I used to have a hard time wrapping my head around why so many people love her as much as they do, and I previously thought it was based a lot on her appearance.

Is it ignorant and shallow of me to think y’all loved her based solely on her looks?

Probably. Yes. Yes, it was.

Now that I’ve looked into this further, I see that there’s more to the love and interest surrounding her, but..... it’s kind of what my first thought was? In the beginning? 

Either way, it’s still an interesting idea to consider when thinking about a character you love.

With that said, what if we apply this question to a character who is less of a “Problematic Fave” and more of my “God Tier Fave.”

You all know that Louis is my favorite character across ALL the games. My love for him is vibrant, but one of the many things I love about him IS his character design. He’s a visually appealing guy, and his personality, different traits, dialogue, flaws, and character arc only build onto the attractiveness of his character.

If Louis didn’t look like this, would I still love him?

Assuming that everything else about him is the same, then yeah. 

What if the developers went with the concept art of him that looked like a odd Harry Styles knockoff? Would I still love him?

Again, I want to say that I would, assuming that everything else about him be the same. But going with that certain concept art does take away an important aspect of his character and his relationship to Clementine.

Many of you have told me how much you appreciate the fact that Clementine and Louis represent a sweet, healthy black couple. That’s important to all of us. If we went with the first concept art, then that’s something we’d lose. Would we still ship clouis? Probably, but again, that important element and representation is lost and that would affect our overall opinion of it, even if just a bit.

But, what if Louis looked exactly as he does now, but were to do something awful? Would I still love him?

Well, my first instinct is to say, “Yes.”

In ep3, Louis tells us that he purposely broke up his parents marriage because his father wouldn’t let him take singing lessons. He broke into his father’s credit cards and made it look like he had a mistress, then made sure his mother knew about it. He did this over the course of a year. Then, when the divorce was finalized, he threw his father’s words back in his face: “You get to be happy or you get to be rich. You can’t be both.”

Knowing this, I still love Louis.

What he did was awful, but the reason I don’t hate him or even like him any less is because of how he acted while telling us. You can feel the guilt and remorse in his voice, the shame that he was once a person who thought that was okay to do.

He did that a long time ago, he learned from this terrible mistake he made, went as far as to punish himself by taking on a irresponsible, piano-playing jokester persona who anyone rarely ever took seriously. Louis changed for the better and he’s still a likable, relatable, lovably character despite this.

But in order to dig a little deeper into this idea of attractiveness and just how far we’ll go to try and justify a character based solely on their looks, I then thought:

 “Okay, then consider this: What if Louis and Minerva switched places with him doing all those things she did that made me dislike her? Would I still love him?”

And things got a little complicated.

Because my immediate first thought was “Yes.”

That shocked the hell out of me.

Why the fuck would I be okay with LOUIS acting the way Minerva did, but not MINERVA herself? That makes no sense.

Louis betraying us on the boat by knocking Clementine out and locking her in the cell isn’t suddenly okay because it’s LOUIS.

Louis showing up on the bridge to try and murder Tenn isn’t suddenly okay because it’s him and not MINERVA.

The reality is this: If Louis and Minerva traded places, I wouldn’t love Louis. I don’t care how attractive his character design is, I would feel the same way about him that I feel about Minerva. I love Louis for who he is within the context of the canon game, but if Louis traded places with Minerva, he wouldn’t be that Louis that I love.

The problem with asking myself this is I know Louis’ character and I want to think the best of him. I’m attached to him. I don’t want to imagine him doing anything that horrible because I know that would be an breaking of his character. His appearance has nothing to do with it. 

But my first instinct was to side with him. 

That’s when it all came together.

A character’s appearance is important in the first impression, but our perception of that character’s attractiveness is only elevated or lowered based on the important things: personality, backstory, relationships, flaws, fears, regrets, change, and complete character arc. 

So how does this apply to my love for David?

Well, it eliminates any possibility that I only like David just because he’s pretty.

Perhaps I’m not so shallow after all.

Yeah, that’s the conclusion of this segment: something I already knew. But, I felt it was a concept that could spark some thought about what attractiveness really means while debunking any idiots who may grasp at straws with the insult of, “You only like [blank] and excuse their toxicity because you think they’re hot!”

... except the Life is Strange community might come after me for implying a nicer version of that towards one of the antagonists... but hopefully you understand the point I was attempting to make in bringing that up as an example.

I like David’s design, but him being an attractive dude isn’t why I like him. If anything, his looks being appealing to my eye is at the end of my long, complicated list of why I like him.

Conclusion:

Looks matter initially, and our perception of a character’s attractiveness is either elevated or lowered based on the more important qualities of their character, problematic or otherwise.

[continued in 4/?]

[winnipegpatty]

to all the boys i’ve loved before [part i] | s.m.

part ii. part iii.

a/n: hey its your local idiot who accidentally deletes her own writing. i changed the gif bc don’t even try and tell me that doesn’t look like a high school noah centineo esc shawn mendes. 

It was the last dinner as a family before Ari would be going to college. Of course she’d chosen the absolute farthest place she could have picked: England. To celebrate, Dad was making Mom’s famous tamales. Well, he would at least try.

“I hate when he makes tamales” Sofia whined. “He always messes up the masa and it’s all crumbly and dry.”

She was eleven, and she was definitely the drama queen of the family.

“It’s sweet,” Ari cooed as she led Sofia down the stairs, “And no matter how it tastes, you take a big bite and say mmmm just like Mom’s, okay?”  

Sofia rolled her eyes, but nodded in agreement anyway.

Just as the three of them reached the stairs, Josh stepped into the entryway, heading straight for Ari. With a quick kiss, he greeted his girlfriend, before hollering out to their dad in the kitchen. I stayed on the stairs, in the background, as I usually did when Josh was around these days.

“Sof,” Josh greeted her younger sister with a high five.

And finally, me.

Stepping off the stairs, I met him halfway. He high fived me as we all moved into the dining room where Dad was setting the table. Ari went back into the kitchen to get everyone’s drinks fixed up.

“I can’t believe we aren’t going to see Ari until Thanksgiving,” Sofia spoke to the table.

“Well, it’s actually going to be Christmas. England is too far to come home just for Thanksgiving,” their dad answered.

“Christmas?” Sofia asked, looking towards Ari as if she might have a secret trip home planned.

“Look on the bright side,” their dad responded, “Ari won’t be here to hog the car so, Y/N can practice her driving.”

Dad took that moment, to pass out the tamales to each plate, and Sofia noticeably grimaced before covering it with a smile.

“I forgot I had to drive with Y/N now.”

“Feel free to take the bus,” I responded with a roll of my eyes.

“You know if you’re ever in a bind, I can always help out,” Josh offered. He was perfect like that, always offering to help wherever he could. “I’m not disappearing; I still live right next door.”

“Orrrrrr, I could drive. And if we ever get pulled over, we’ll just switch places real fast,” Sofia spoke with exaggerated movements as if reenacting the scenario in her mind.

“Excellent idea, sweets,” their dad chuckled.

Ari returned with drinks in tow, handing one to each person, “What are we talking about?”

“Just how bad of a driver Y/N is.”

“And airplanes,” Josh piped in.

Ari looked at him oddly, “Yeah?”

“Yeah just, ya know...how you weren’t going to be able to come home for Thanksgiving. Which, brings me to this…” Josh dramatically pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, unfolding it to show Ari. “I thought I’d bring some home to you. I’m coming to England.”

It was a plane ticket.

“Hey, look at Josh steppin up!” Dad cheered from the head of the table.

But Ari didn’t look pleased. In fact, she looked on the verge of irate. “You already bought this?”

Josh stuttered over a few words for a moment before standing up. The tension in the air was palpable, and with just the greatest timing Sof truly has ever had she took a bite of her tamale and said, “Mmmmm, just like Mom’s.”

I guess I should tell you about Josh. For the last two years he’s been Ari’s boyfriend. But before Ari even cared that he existed, he was my first boyfriend. Space between the words boy who was a friend. I could tell him anything. We just really understood one another. He was my best friend. We didn’t exactly stop being friend when Ari and Josh got together, things just became….different. They didn’t want me to feel left out. So they invited me everywhere. Like...everywhere. Even on dates. They tried to make it as normal as possible (for a third wheel, I guess), but it just wasn’t the same. It’s not like I wanted to date Josh or anything. I’m happy for Ari. She deserves an amazing guy like Josh. And so I wrote him a letter, and I wasn’t going to send him the letter or anything. It was just for me. So I could understand all these crazy feelings. But I guess really, it was also about how sometimes I imagine what it would be like if I’d realized how I felt about him sooner. If I could have been the girlfriend instead of Ari.

My letters are my most secret possesion, for no one to see but me. There are five total. Kenny from camp, Shawn from seventh grade, Lucas from homecoming, Jake from Model UN, and….Josh. I write the letters when I have a crush so intense that I can’t even think straight. When I don’t know what to say.

Ari would say I’m being dramatic, but I think drama can be fun. Just as long as no one knows about it.

Ari and Josh broke up that night. Before mom died, she told Ari to never go to college with a boyfriend. And the next morning, she left for England. And that was the end of Ari and Josh.

Ari always said that when something is no longer useful, you either donate it, recycle it, or throw it away. I always knew she felt that way about objects, but I didn’t know she thought about people like that too. I didn’t know it was possible.

_____

It was first day of junior year. Ari was in England. I’d actually cleaned my room last night which has never happened before. And I was driving Sof to school for the first time. It all felt so wrong.

Walking down the halls as a junior in high school, I was almost at the top. I passed Josh, which felt both weird and more natural than it had in the past two years. But as I turned too look at him as I walked away, he looked sad.

Walking backwards wasn’t my strong suit though because moments later I walked right into a person.

“Ow. Excuse you!”

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry, Gen.” I answered as I moved away from the girl who was basically the devil incarnate. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Oh, it’s you.” Gen sneered.

Gen...Genevieve. We used to be best friends, but post middle school for reasons having to do with her popularity, and my lack thereof. We are no decidedly, not.

At least school was the same.

“Cute boots,” Gen spoke as she eyes my boots with clear distaste.

“Thanks, they’re vintage,” I did my best to smile.

“And they’re amazing! Not everyone can rock the, but Y/N can really pull them off.”

Christine...Chris. Gen’s cousin. My best friend. My only friend really.

And then walked in the devil’s boyfriend. Shawn.

“Hey babe,” he said as he wrapped his arms around Gen’s stomach, and kissed her lightly on the temple.

“Hiiii.” Gen said sweetly.

“How’re you doing?”

“Oh I’m good, how are you?” She cooed back, clearly enamored by Shawn.

Shawn, you remember him. From seventh grade. From the letter. That’s this Shawn. Gen’s Shawn. Seventh grade, my first real boy girl party, and well, everyone knew that Shawn and Gen, who at the time was still my bestie, only liked each other. And it was at the first long awaited boy girl party that I had my friend kiss….with Shawn. It was only a spin the bottle kiss, but it was a kiss.

“I was just complementing Y/N on her adorable boots,” Gen said to Shawn, “Come on, there are more important people to talk to.”

Gen waltzed away from the them leaving Chris, me, and Shawn to stare uncomfortably after her.

“She just stopped drinking caffeine for a, uh, diet, I think.” Shawn mumbled as he tugged on a few of his shorter curls. “She’s just going through withdrawls.”

“Are you sure she doesn’t just have a chemical imbalance?” I retorted.

“Right,” Shawn said as he turned and walked away.

____

Lunch came around, and everything was wrong again. Ari was my go to lunch date. And now I was alone, yet again.

I ended up on the bleachers, next to Josh. Which wasn’t awkward at all.

“I gotta ask,” Josh asked quietly as I sat next to him. “Did she tell you? You guys talk about everything, and I just….”

“She didn’t tell me about this,” I shook my head.

“Well, we’re still cool, right?”

“Yes, we’re cool.”

We ate lunch then, in complete silence. And before you say anything about it, I know what you’re thinking. We really were cool. However I felt about him, I would never do that to Ari.

____

“This cafeteria is soooooo much bigger than at the elementary school,” Sof squealed. “And everyone wanted to sit by me, oh my god it was just so cool.”

“Yeah, I can totally relate,” I mumbled as we both got into the car.

One more drive and we’d be home free. One day of driving down….hundreds more to go. I waited for Sofia to buckle up, before I began to pull out.

“Woah, hey.” I heard a voice that sounded shockingly like Shawn Mendes.

Sofia laughed, “You really are going to get us killed.”

I shut my eyes closed, hoping maybe Shawn would forget about almost just getting hit by a car. But the tap on my car window said otherwise. I rolled down the window. Honestly, running him over may have been less painful, at least for me.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” I sounded mortified even to myself.

“How ya doing?” Shawn asked with a smile on his face. He was bent down so he was at eye level with me (which made everything a million times worse because his eyes were fucking gorgeous and I was going to fucking die).

“Good.”

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Yeah,” I whispered.

“You know people usually check behind them before they reverse? You know...to avoid killing others. It’s a thing we do.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just not, completely comfortable with the mirrors in this car yet.” I stuttered.

Sofia laughed from her seat, and really I would have liked to have run her over with my car.

“Yeah, clearly. You think you’re going to be able to make it out of the parking lot...or?”

“No, no we’ll be just fine. So you should just go, yeah, we’re fine.”

“Yeah, whatever you say.” He pointed at Sofia in the car, “Hey uh, you’re in charge.”

Shawn walked away, and I rolled up my window as Sofia said, “Who was that?”

“That was Shawn Mendes.”

We sat in the parking lot for a few minutes before Sofia said, “So, are we gonna go home?”

“Yeah, of course. We’re just going to wait for all the cars to leave first.”

____

“You know, Y/N, if you had a boyfriend, maybe you wouldn’t have to drive at all cus he would take us places” Sofia spoke as they were both sat lounging on the couch watching an episode of Stranger Things on Netflix.

I turned to look at Sofia, “If that’s what it takes, I think you’re stuck with me for a while. Sorry Sof.”

“I don’t know, what about that guy you almost killed?”

“He’s dating Gen.”

“So?”

She really was too young to understand these things apparently. Shawn Mendes was taken. A couple like Shawn and Gen don’t just break up. They’re together for at least the entirety of high school. They’re the It Couple. They’re the ones that go on to get married and become high school sweethearts. People like Shawn Mendes don’t leave girls like Gen for other girls like me.

“You know, it’s not just that.” Sofia shifted on the couch to lean against me. “Don’t you find it kind of odd that we’re at home on a Friday night, watching tv again?”

“No?”

Sofia sighed, clearly frustrated with me. “Y/N, I’m not saying this to make you feel bad, but I’m eleven. And I cancelled plans to be here tonight, and well you’re sixteen. And you never have plans.”

“That is way harsh.”

“The truth hurts, Y/N.”

____

Running the mile would most likely be the death of me. Chris, God bless that girl, was keeping pace with me despite the fact that she could have easily passed me by now. Only two more laps were left, or was it three? I was honestly just banking on Chris knowing or the coach to stop us at the right time. This could quite possibly be the third year in a row that I failed to make the time for the mile, but I wasn’t about to start practicing for this or anything.

“Hey!” I heard a voice from behind me.

I looked over at Chris to see if she was talking to me, but she just shrugged her shoulders at me.

“Hey! Y/N,” I slowed down, looking behind me.

It was Shawn. Shawn Mendes.

“Can I talk to you?” He asked.

“Um, me?” I asked, still slowly jogging alongside Chris and with Shawn trailing behind.

“Hey, SM, I heard my cousin dumped you for a college freshman, that true?”

“Uh, I heard you have horns, that true, Chris?”

“Yep, they’re red and shiny.”

Finally they came to a stop. I was definitely failing the mile. “I need to talk to you, Y/N. Uh, alone,” Shawn eyed Chris.

She hummed, slowly backing away, “Well, if you need me, I’ll uh, yeah.” She ran away and gestured in the direction she was running.

“Listen, I wanted to say that I’m flattered, and I appreciate it. But it’s just never gonna happen.”

“I’m sorry, what? What are you talking about?”

Clueless was a pretty good word for this moment.

“Look, from what I remember of that kiss it was hot, for it being in seventh grade, and I think it’s really cool that you think my eyes like sparkle or something.”

And it was in that moment that you saw it. The letter. Yes, the letter. The letter that you’d written to Shawn, never to be given to Shawn. The letter professing your all consuming seventh grade sized love for the boy that had been dating your best friend’s cousin for months. This could not be happening. How did he get that letter? Who sent him that letter? Did the others have letters too? Shawn was still talking, saying something about how he and Gen were just so fresh, he couldn’t start anything else. But I wasn’t listening, I looked over his shoulder and saw what was quite possibly my worst nightmare.

Josh.

Josh, who was headed towards me and Shawn, holding a eerily similar looking letter in his hand. He looked just as confused as I currently felt, and I did the first thing that I could think of to stop the oncoming questions Josh most definitely had. I kissed Shawn.

Yeah, I know. Not my smartest idea. Not my proudest moment. But I did it, I practically threw myself into Shawn’s arms, and kissed him. And not the seventh grade kind of peck kiss we’d had prior. But a real kiss. Like a, I need to make Josh think I’m in love with Shawn Mendes right now so that he won’t think I’m in love with him kind of kiss.

And just as I pulled away, Shawn looked equally as confused as Josh had before. Before Josh could say anything, I ran past them, back towards the main building. I think I heard Josh call after me as I ran past him, but I definitely did not stop to look back. And that’s how I evaded the two most uncomfortable moments of my life. Or so I thought.

Heading straight for the girls restroom, I locked myself in the nearest stall. Quite literally falling to the ground in a fit of panic. But without even a few seconds of privacy, the door opened.

“Hey, Y/N, you in there?”

“No.”

What the fuck. Why would I actually say no?

And then, another letter, this one addressed to Lucas, was being slipped under the stall door.

“Look, I just saw you run in here, and I wanted to make sure you were okay,” Lucas said from the other side of the stall door. “I thought you might want that back.” He meant the letter, “It seemed a little personal.”

“Lucas, I wrote this years ago,” I said as I finally made my way out of the stall. It looked like this wasn’t a conversation I could get out of.

“Freshman homecoming, right? I had a lot of fun that night too,” Lucas looked at me. He had kind eyes. “But I thought I should tell you, I’m gay. You know that right?”

“Yeah!” I said overly excited, “Of course, I totally knew that.”

I definitely did not know that.

“Okay.”

____

The letters are out. They’re out. There’s nothing I can do about it. Silver lining. Kenny’s letter was addressed to the dorms at camp, so he’ll at least never know about my crush.

“You really oughta relax,” you heard Josh’s familiar voice in your head. Great, hallucinations. So I was officially insane. Maybe I sent the letters out myself and didn’t even remember. “I know you love me.”

“Loved. Past tense. You’re Ari’s.”

“Dear Josh, I lie awake at night. And sometimes I wonder what it would be like to run my fingers through your hair. What it would be like to lie and stargaze with y--”

“Shut up! You’re not real.”

From your window, you could see Josh approaching your front door. Awesome.

“I’m more real to you than he is,” the Josh in your head responded.

Not even seconds later I heard dad calling for you from downstairs, “Josh is here!”

Time to face the music, I guess.

Orrr, I could always climb out the window. Which seemed infinitely like the better choice than having to tell your sister’s ex boyfriend that you used to love him. Yeah, I’m definitely going out the window. Stepping out of the window seemed easy, until I tripped and fell. I rolled down the small roof, and yep, right onto the fucking grass. But whatever, it’s fine. That’s the price I pay for avoidance I guess. I grabbed my bike from the front porch and hightailed it to the diner across town.

I sat in peace, drinking an amazing strawberry milkshake, until Shawn came in and sat down. Right. Next. To. Me.

“Hey, Y/N.”

Would it be possible to ignore him?

He ordered a chocolate shake and waited for you to say something.

“Whatcha doing here?” I decided on casual avoidance. Pretend like the elephant didn’t exist and it would disappear, right?

“I’m just here to take down a delicious chocolate shake, eh?”

“Cool, cool.”

“Actually, I stopped at your house and your sister said you’d probably be here.”

I was going to kill Sofia.

“Look, I just wanna be super clear. I’m flattered, for real, I am. But like, Gen and I just broke up.”

“Are you trying to reject me right now,” I asked with disinterest.

“Well, yeah. Cus it didn’t really seem like it...got through to ya, the first time, back there, at school?”

“Shawn Mendes, I’m not trying to date you.”

“Okay, like I hear you, but you’re not really acting like that.”

“Listen, here’s the situation. I don’t actually like you. I just kissed you, so it looked like I liked you so that someone else wouldn’t think I liked him.”

Yes, great, tell him all the details. It’s not like the situation was embarrassing enough as it is.

“Oh okay, who’s that?”

“What?”

“You gotta tell me who the guy is, or I’m just really not gonna believe you.”

“No,” I shook my head furiously. No way was he getting that out of me.

���Okay well, then I’ll just tell the rest of the school that you wrote me a love letter.”

“Um, no okay, no. It’s uh, Josh Sanderson?”

“Wait, doesn’t he date your sister?”

“Well, he dated my sister. Like past tense. And he also got a letter, so you can see how awkward and complicated that whole situation could get. And thus why I needed to kiss you.”

Shawn held his hand up as if to tell me to stop, “Wait woah, you sent more than one letter?”

I shook my head.

“Wow, you really think you’re special and then you find out she wrote letters to two guys.” Shawn depressingly sipped from his chocolate shake.

“Uh, yeah. There were actually five letters.”

“You sent five love letters. Damn, Y/N, you’re a player. Who else?”

“If I tell you, will you leave me alone?”

Shawn mumbled a bit, “Maybe.”

“Okay, Lucas James.”

“But he’s...gay.”

“You don’t know that,” I tried to play it cool.

“Everyone knows that.”

I DID NOT KNOW THAT. Why was I the only person who didn’t know that Lucas was gay? Was I really that blind?

“Who else?”

“Someone from camp and someone from the fifth grade. Are we good here?”

“Uh, uh yeah.” I got up to leave before Shawn’s hand touched my wrist, “Wait wait, let me take you home?”

“So...what are you gonna tell Josh?” Shawn asked as his Jeep pulled up to the front of my house.

“I guess the truth.”

“But what is the truth? Do you like him...do you not?”

“It’s not your problem, Shawn.” You smiled as you hopped out of the Jeep, grabbing your bike from the back.

“Hold up, Y/N,” Shawn called as he ran up beside you. “What if you didn’t tell him?”

“What?”

“What if...we let people...think we were together? And like..not just Sanderson, but everyone?”

“Why would you want that?”

“Well Gen went nuts when she heard that you kissed me. And if she thinks we’re a thing, she’ll want to get back together.”

“Oh, so you wanna use me as your pawn?”

“Well,” Shawn rolled his neck a little, “technically you already used me as yours.”

You were decidingly going to ignore that comment. You headed closer to the front door, kicking the stand on your bike and letting it go.

“Look, you don’t have to give me an answer now, just maybe think about it?”

“Bye Shawn,” I threw over my shoulder, ignoring his last statement completely.

Fake dating Shawn Mendes, yeah fucking right. Like that would ever happen.

[randxmthxughts]

Time flies | part 3

AU/Imagine series w/Shawn Mendes

Part 1/Part 2

Word count: 2K

Original request:  Hello, I was thinking if you could do an imagine wherein reader has a son with Shawn, but he doesn’t know about him, cuz reader left Shawn few years ago without a words (when she found out she is pregnant)? And one day her little son (5 years old maybe?) accidentally bump into Shawn and he is shocked that reader has a son. Sorry if its complicated 

Short description: Shawn finds out that he has a four-year-old son when he accidently bumps into him and his ex-girlfriend Y/N.

Author’s note: Please comment and keep encouraging me to write, cause if I haven’t received so many asks I probably wouldn’t even make this into series. Let me know if you’re excited for part 4 :)

  “I still can’t believe it, Shawn!” Karen’s voice was muted from behind the door, as Y/N nervously stood in front of it, hesitant whether she should knock or just leave.

  “I just found out myself today.”

  Y/N was ready to turn around and walk away, already thinking of an excuse she would text Shawn, but Tommy was growing impatient with his mother. The boy loudly shouted something about wanting to play, and Y/N’s heart started to beat faster realizing that Shawn and his family probably heard them. She quickly reacted and knocked on the wooden door, while rocking Tommy and whispering to him to be a good boy for his mommy. The heavy bag filled with a few of his toys, her essentials and a bottle of wine she brought for Shawn, was pulling down her right shoulder.

  “Y/N! Hi!” Shawn’s breathy voice greeted her, as he widely opened the door with a smile, and leaned into Tommy held in her hands, “Hi again.”

  “Hey,” Tommy replied cheekily, hiding his face in Y/N’s hair forcing his parents to chuckle.

  “It takes him some time to get used to new people,” Y/N justified, and Shawn smiled understandingly and stood back letting them in.

  Tommy who was desperate to leave his mother’s grip just a few seconds ago was now trying to get to her as close as possible, clinging onto her legs, when she placed him on the ground.

  “Honey, it’s okay,” she patted his back, and Shawn laughed at the boy’s behavior, “I’m sorry,” Y/N sighed looking at Shawn.

  “It’s okay,” he laughed back and squatted next to his son, gripping his attention, “I was waiting for you, little buddy. I picked up a few toys for you, do you wanna see them?”

  “Shawn, I brought some of his toys-” Y/N tried to communicate, but Tommy’s change in behavior interrupted her.

  He let go of his mother’s legs and fully turned to Shawn, nodding his head, eyes curiously examining his face again.

  “Okay, well, let’s go into the dining room. The toys are there,” Shawn stood up and extended his hand, which Tommy quickly gripped on with a silly smile.

  “Wow, he is so quick to abandon his mom for new toys,” Y/N playfully threw, rolling her eyes.

  “I mean who can refuse new toys?” Shawn looked over his shoulder with a toothy grin, forcing her to chuckle.

  As Shawn walked into the dining room holding his son’s tiny hand in his, his heart was radiating warmth through all of his body. He couldn’t believe that he was a father, and this was his son, but Shawn decided for himself that he had to win him over and make up for the four years he missed and be there for this little curly boy. Y/N slowly walked behind them, and as they entered the room she saw Karen and Manny quickly standing up from the couch, Aaliyah looking up from her phone to give her a small wave. Y/N smiled nervously, and watched them from the doorway, as Shawn quickly tried to introduce Tom to his parents.

  “So before I show you the toys will you introduce yourself to your grandma and grandpa?” Shawn squatted next to Tom with a big smile.

  Tommy didn’t reply but instead looked back to his mother, and when she gave him an assuring smile, he nodded to Shawn, forcing everybody in the room to laugh. He liked the attention, and suddenly felt more comfortable, now letting go of Shawn’s hand and extending it to Manny who was standing in front of him, Karen next to him.

  “Oh my gosh, he’s adorable,” Karen exclaimed when Manny accurately shook the boy’s hand.

  “What’s your name?” Manny squatted in front of Tommy, letting go of his small hand.

  “Thomas,” he announced with a grin, now focusing on Karen who also lowered herself to his level.

  “How official,” she laughed, “well I’m Karen, your grandma, and this is your grandpa, Manuel.”

  Y/N held her breath watching them, still slightly terrified at their first interaction. Shawn was smiling full-heartedly, happy that Tom won his parents hearts in a matter of a few seconds. He was so small but already knew how to present himself with all of his manners, the small things Y/N had in herself as well.

  “Well, you wanna play with some of the toys?” Manny asked him, and as he received an enthusiastic nod, he quickly got up to get the shopping bag filled with Tom’s new toys.

  As Shawn joined them in getting the toys out and showing them off to Tom, Karen stood up with a smile, her eyes now landing on Y/N, who was struggling to keep the heavy bag on her shoulder.

  “Y/N! Hi, honey, I’m sorry I haven’t greeted you yet,” she exclaimed extending her arms to invite Y/N for a hug.

  Y/N could sense the way Karen and Manny would look at her. She could also feel how they tried to ask her things, but the conversation was completely focused on Tommy, and being very polite they didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. Tommy was sitting on her lap, Shawn right next to them. He didn’t hesitate to take the opportunity of getting closer to his son and offered to feed him, even though Y/N told him that Tommy was quite independent with his food.

  “So how’s life, Aaliyah?” she asked, taking a sip of her water.

  “Nothing much except for I’m now in college,” Aaliyah chuckled, “but that’s nothing compared to having a child.”

  Everybody laughed, as Tommy furrowed his eyebrows, refusing to eat the small piece of meatball Shawn was offering to him on a fork.

  “Oh come on, buddy. This is good for you,” Shawn begged for the third time now, but Tom only shook his head, receiving a round of laughter from all of the new people he just met today.

  “He’s loving the attention you guys are giving him,” Y/N chuckled, “let him be for a few minutes, and he’ll quit playing these games.”

  Shawn nodded, leaning back in his chair, eyes still lovingly glued to the little curly boy. Shawn couldn’t believe how much this little boy was reminding him of himself, and with the more attitude, Tommy showed the more Shawn was getting attached to him. Karen was absolutely in love with her grandson and tried to steal him for a few minutes, but Tommy got shy and ran off to his mother again. Manny was satisfied with the small game he had with his grandson before the dinner and was waiting patiently to get another round. They weren’t ready to become grandparents yet, didn’t even expect to; Shawn hasn’t been in serious relationships since his and Y/N’s breakup, and Aaliyah was too young. But now having a four-year-old running around their son’s apartment was unusual to them, even though they loved it. Loved hearing small giggles, witness changes in attitude, babbling and silly questions accompanied by sounds the toddler would make while playing with his new toys. They wanted to bath this boy in their love, and couldn’t help but compare him to Shawn every few minutes, tiring out Aaliyah.

  “Warn me next time you’re planning on buying him toys, because I’ve carried this heavy bag with me all the way from home and your son- Tommy didn’t even remember about his toys,” Y/N corrected herself quickly, giving a little attitude to Shawn.

  “Sorry,” he jokingly raised his hands in the air as a sign of giving up.

  “Look at them,” Karen whispered, pointing out to a couch, “it’s like having Shawn as a kid all over again!”

  As they quickly looked in the pointed direction the scene made everybody smile; Manny was laying on the couch, while Tommy rested on his chest, both of them loudly snoring. The cartoon that Shawn put on earlier was casually playing in the background, and all of the newly bought toys spread around the ground proved that the two had a great time playing instead of watching TV.

  “I know I always joke about dad’s age, but he is a literal grandpa right now,” Shawn commented, forcing Y/N to giggle.

  “He has the energy of a four-year-old,” Karen added with a grin, “he can take a nap wherever and whenever.”

  Aaliyah who was lost in her phone suddenly stood up from the armchair and quickly walked past them to the balcony which was connected with Shawn’s kitchen. All of their gazes followed her, and as Karen didn’t pay much attention to her daughter’s inattentiveness, Shawn had his eyebrows knitted.

  “What’s that on your face, Shawn?” Y/N noticed.

  “She’s always talking to that guy,” he crossed his arms on his chest, gaining a chuckle from his mother.

  “It’s her boyfriend, Shawn, and he has a name,” Karen turned to him.

  “Whatever.”

  “Y/N, have you already thought about school Tommy will go to?” Karen switched the topic.

  “Ugh, yeah, actually,” Y/N mumbled, avoiding Shawn’s curious gaze, “there are a few places.”

  “But you have to have the first choice, don’t you?” Shawn talked in.

  “Well yeah,” she sighed, lowering her voice, “I’ve heard great things about the Coonley elementary.”

  “Never heard of that? Where is it?” Karen raised her eyebrows, and Y/N sighed again.

  “It’s in Chicago actually.”

  “Chicago?” Shawn repeated, frowning his eyebrows, “What’s wrong with the schools in Toronto?”

  “Nothing,” she almost exclaimed, wishing that this conversation would end, “it’s just one of the many choices. Nothing is decided yet.”

  Shawn opened his mouth to say something else, but the presence of his mother was making him uncomfortable to confront Y/N at the moment. He couldn’t ever imagine her moving from Canada and giving their son to a school that was in another country. He just got to know his son, and she was planning on taking him away again? Karen was having the same thoughts, but she didn’t know what to say. She felt like Shawn would get even more frustrated if she continued the topic, so she decided to leave it to themselves.

  “I think we have to wake them up; otherwise, Tommy won’t be sleeping this night,” Y/N interrupted their thoughts.

  “You’re right,” Karen agreed and walked into the dining room.

  Y/N stood with Shawn for a few more seconds, feeling the air between them intensifying again, and she didn’t like it. She quickly followed Karen, and joined her in the other room, avoiding the topic that upset Shawn so much. For the rest of the evening, Shawn didn’t hesitate on giving all of his attention to Tommy. Y/N found herself chatting with Aaliyah for another hour, often looking at the ground where Shawn and his parents were occupied with Tommy. The toddler wouldn’t stop giggling and playing out his little tricks forcing everyone to adore him even more, becoming more and more comfortable with this new side of the family he just discovered. And every time he would ask Shawn something, he would suddenly get excited and look at Y/N his eyes filled with surprise. And every time Y/N would smile at him, happy that Tommy and Shawn already started forming their unique connection. She couldn’t help herself but feel like a part of this big family, and how welcoming Manny and Karen and Aaliyah were to her all over again, and to Tommy. As if Shawn and she never break up and this was an expected stage of their life, and all of this seemed so natural, she forgot that she wasn’t in her apartment. And in fact, these people weren’t her family, and the only thing that was bringing them all together was the little curly boy sitting on the ground surrounded by a bunch of adults and new toys, enjoying the moment.

Masterlist

@justmesadgirl @wigglepotato @p3rf3ctlywrong @illletitgrow @whenyourereadyjay 

let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part :)

[cmyknoise]

Early 1900′s Sanders Sides AU

Okay so, this is kinda weird. Honestly it pretty much stemmed from Patton’s clothing choice, and also that if you look up 1950′s dad, a lot of the formal looking ones look like they could be something Logan would wear. 

I am pretty sure a lot of this isn’t exactly historically accurate. I tried with the time periods and dates, but I’m not all sure what’ll be accurate and what wont be. Honestly it’s for fun....and angst....and an excuse to make Logicality 1950′s dads, as well as Virgil being around when rock and roll and the whole bad/punk movement first rolls in, the coming of Elvis, ect. Also Prinxiety, they’d be young adults with the first LGBTQ+ movements ever so....yeah? This is just for fun, so apologies if things aren’t horribly accurate. I don’t mean to be disrespectful at all with this. If I got things wrong, please correct me and I’ll try and fix it! 

 Feel free to add on! 

!! 1950's AU Thing !!

-Patton grew up with an absent father- not that he had the choice. His father was always drafted to the wars of the time. -Patton was born in 1921. His father survived WWI, came back, woohooed with mom, and they had Patton. -Due to all of the wars and only living with his mother and twin brother (deceit, my name for him is Delyn), they weren't very rich. Patton stopped going to school at the age of 13 (this is in 1934) to help support their family. He was a newspaper boy, did chores, and for a short while factory work. -His education was limited, he doesn't know how to read much above 5/6th grade level, and he can't do math. -Found out he was gay in 1936. Being raided in a early Christian home he was ashamed and didn't dare come out. He found out when a cute older boy pulled him aside after factory hours and they kinda kissed, a lot (not much more than make-outs happened.) That said kid got drafted two weeks later for military, never saw him again. -He lived through several wars. America went into WWII, when he was just 20. -His father was drafted, and died soon after. -He meets 20 year old Logan out in the streets. It was nighttime, and there were major war threats. Patton had went out on a grocery run, Logan was exiting a bookstore. One of the first bomb threats happened while they were out. Patton and Logan both saw each other on the streets, complete strangers. Patton was close to home so he drug Logan on with him to their bomb shelter. Nothing ended up happening, false alarm, but he and Logan were pretty inseparable. since -Patton was drafted in 1943 to go over seas. He was unable to stay for long due to a major head injury, and also the fact that his sexuality was found out. He luckily healed pretty fine, it did worsen his eyesight and balance. He returned and much of the town he was from knew he was gay. He dealt with slander and names, but he was home and that’s all he could care about.

-Logan wasn't drafted because he has a few medical problems. -Logan had grown up on a farm and did heavy work from a young age. He has a fucked up back, and horrible eyesight. -He ran away and was put in an orphanage from the age of 10-17. During that time he worked in factories. -He ran away because he wanted an education. The nice orphanage lady offered to teach him to read. He's pretty fluent and knows a lot pertaining to science.

-Logan told Patton in private that he too was gay shortly after Patton came out to the town. Patton helped him keep a secret. -They moved into a house in the suburbs together shortly after, still in their early 20's. No one knew for sure that Logan was gay, so he was the one to go out and get what they needed, work, etc.  -They can't get married, especially publicly. But, they know. -Can't adopt kids either, even though Patton desperately wants a family.

-Logan gets them a cat and they name him Thomas ( ;) ) -Good news though (I mean, not really /good/) Logan's sister (he has a sister-) had a kid a year before -She ended up passing away, and Logan was first to get custody of the kid, Virgil (at this point he's only 1, Logan and Patton are both 24, it's 1945) -Technically, they got to keep him :))

-Bad news, they are still constantly under the threat of bombs  -Threats get worse with introduction of atomic and nuclear bombs -One of the worst happens in 1947. Virgil is 3, and Logan and Patton are 26 -Think of the beginning scene of Narnia where there's heavy gunfire, planes, etc -They were in the bomb shelter for days, Logan and Patton both practically clinging to their 'son', fearing for their lives -They manage to survive. -WWII ends, so fear slowly dies down, but it's always there, especially after America enters the Korean war and Cold war in later years

-Virgil is 5 in 1950, Logan and Patton are 29. -He goes to school. He's instantly one of the 'delinquent kids'. Oof one of the first punks at only 5. -Logan and Patton love him dear, and happily raise him, and vow to protect him at any cost.

-Logan is still in the closet about being in love with Patton. The only ones who know are Patton and Virgil. -Virgil doesn't talk much at school, but he does a lot at home. -Virgil calls Logan a bunch of names. 'Ma' 'Mama' 'Lo' -He calls Patton 'Dad' and other fatherly names.

-Virgil really likes the first comings of rock and roll. -When he turns 8/9, oh boy, it's all over for the 'squares; in school. Instant fan of Elvis -Manages to catch a certain boy's eyes.

-This boy is Roman Prince

-Roman has one mom and mom’s best friend (at least to the public. he’s got two moms. one is his birth mom, the other is her gf/wife)

-He understands the situation of ‘Don’t tell anyone about my parents’ when he finds out about Virgil’s dads

-They’re best buds literally all throughout elementary school, middle school, and highschool

-Boy do these guys not separate. Ever. 

-Roman becomes a local singer/performer. Virgil writes some of his songs. 

-Both were 25 when the first LGBT movements came around, and they sure as hell took part in all they could. 

-Cough cough

-You bet your ass that Patton and Logan got married when it became legal- even though they’d be in their mid 90′s. 

[schraubd]

What Eight Great Teachers Taught Me About Teaching

Last night, I was reflecting on how lucky I was to have had so many great teachers in my life. From pre-K to post-12, I've been blessed to have had an overwhelmingly positive educational experience. My time as an official student isn't quite over yet, but it is winding down, and soon I will be a full-fledged member of the teacher's side of the podium. So I thought I'd share some of what I've learned about teaching from my very best teachers. * * * Ms. Curry: Elementary school is a pretty fuzzy memory at this stage, but I remember adoring my First Grade teacher Ms. Curry. She saw the very earliest flickerings of my political self when I did a report on Jackie Robinson, and mostly managed to keep a straight face when I sternly informed the class that "nobody should be aggravated on a bus!" From Ms. Curry, I learned that both teaching and learning can be joyous, and that joy can be both very deliberate and very unintentional. Ms. Skelton: By any objective measure, I was a good and well-behaved student in high school. Always got good grades, never once got a detention, never got called into the principal's office. Subjectively, and on reflection ... I was probably a handful to deal with for a lot of teachers. I had a contrarian streak a mile wide, and I had opinions about pedagogy -- to wit, if I didn't understand why something was useful to learn, I didn't want to learn it. And no class was the subject of this wrath more than English. I believed then -- and to some extent believe now, though slightly less dogmatically -- that the only purpose of writing was to clearly communicate and persuasively justify ideas. Faced with English classes where we read a ton of literature that, to me, seemed like exercises in willful obtuseness justified because it uses "metaphor" or "connotative language", and I was effectively in open rebellion. In my first essay for Ms. Skelton in 11th grade, I wrote an extended diatribe about why most of the focus of the class -- "analyzing" the use of language rather than evaluating the content of the work -- was useless and pointless. I don't have a copy of it anymore, but with the benefit of hindsight I'm absolutely sure it was self-righteous and obnoxious (really, how could it not be?). I'd written essays like this before -- and since I was a good writer, in spite of it all, I usually got a good grade with perfunctory comments. But Ms. Skelton did something none of my other teachers had ever done before: She responded. She wrote extended comments on the paper, taking my position seriously and making her case for why I should, indeed, care about this material. She didn't persuade me. But she did earn my undying loyalty that day. From Ms. Sketlon, I learned that if you take your students seriously, and treat their contributions as worthy of respect, they'll be willing to explore nearly any horizon you place in front of them. Kim Smith: There were three types of political science classes I took at Carleton. There were required courses. There were courses I took with visiting faculty. And there were courses I took with Kim Smith. This wasn't exactly intentional -- it's just that Kim Smith happened to teach pretty much every interesting class I wanted to take in the entire department. Constitutional Law and African-American Political Thought! Impossible combination to beat! I took four classes from her -- tied for the most of any Carleton professor. I did well in her classes, but Kim was notoriously unsparing in her comments on essays submitted to her class. I have distinct memories of entire paragraphs circle or crossed out with "oh please" or "that's lame" written next to it. Some people were terrified of her, but I thought it was fabulous. And there's no doubt she made my writing better. And of all my college professors, she's the one with whom I have the closest friendship with to this day. Kim once told me her teaching philosophy was "it's better to be feared than loved". That doesn't give her enough credit though; I would say that from her I learned instead that if you play your cards right, you don't actually need to choose. Louis Newman: Louis Newman was one of the very first people I met at Carleton. Somehow, my dad found out about him -- in retrospect, that he found the head of Judaic Studies at Carleton is probably not coincidental -- and we were introduced before I even attended my first class. He actually persuaded me to drop my freshman seminar and instead enroll in his upper level Jewish Ethics class. Again, that actually might not have been the best advice in the abstract, but in my case it worked out great. He's the other professor I took four classes from; if Carleton had a Judaic Studies concentration, I would have done it. Louis was distinctive in the degree to which he cared about his students as human beings, not just as students. He was a warm and paternal, but never paternalistic figure. From him I learned that the best teachers care about the whole student, not just their submitted work. Melvin Rogers: Melvin is my great "I knew him when" story -- I knew Melvin Rogers when he was a post-doc at Carleton, just starting out his career. Even then, everyone knew he was brilliant, and everyone knew he was going to be something special. Carleton basically hacked together a position just to offer it to him, and his job talk was something else. Most job talks have one, maybe two students in attendance, quietly listening in the back corner. Melvin's job talk was given to a packed room, with several of us literally holding a "We Love You Melvin Rogers!" banner against the back wall. It didn't work, he ended up going to UVA, and given how his career subsequently took off I can't say he made a mistake. But certainly we pulled out all the stops, and were right to do so. Again, everyone knew he was a brilliant scholar. But he was also a brilliant teacher. Those two qualities aren't always associated together -- but I think that's a mistake in our profession, and one we should work harder to rectify. From Melvin Rogers I learned that brilliance in scholarship is wholly compatible with brilliance in teaching, and nobody should tell you that greatest in the one is an excuse to neglect the other. Martha Nussbaum: Martha Nussbaum is a very famous, very important person. I am not a particularly famous, particularly important person. And while I was technically one of her "students", in practice I took two of her law school courses that each had at least 30 students enrolled. She had no ongoing obligations towards me, and certainly had and has enough on her plate not to bother with me. She would have been well within her rights never to have once thought of me after handing in my final grades. And yet. Martha Nussbaum has written me letters of recommendation -- repeatedly, for several different types of positions. She's read drafts when I've sent them to her, she's met with me when I've returned to Chicago. She's even shot the breeze with me over email regarding our shared interest in Project Runway (she's worn Season 7 winner Seth Aaron Henderson). I was and am little, and she was and is big, and yet somehow she's made time to be a mentor for me -- for no other reason than that I took a couple of her classes and did well in them. Martha Nussbaum is another example of someone whose brilliant scholarship pairs with brilliant teaching. But from her, I also learned that even the most successful, amazing, prominent figures still can find time to care about and mentor their students -- and if she can do it, we all can. David Strauss: I once joked that there was a period where every idea I had for a law review article had already been written by David Strauss between 1985 and 1997. It was disappointing, in a way, but it was also a sign that I had good ideas, at the very least -- just a generation too late. He provided a model for me regarding what good scholarship was and what good teaching was. There's probably nobody on earth of whom I'm more clearly a "disciple" of  than David Strauss. And on top of that -- he was a great teacher, in a completely different way from Kim or Martha or Melvin. The fact is, I'm probably not and will never be as scary as Kim Smith. I'm much too goofy for that. But then again, so was David, and he commanded classroom attention just fine. From David Strauss, I learned that the best way to be the best teacher and scholar I could be, was to be me. Sarah Song: And now we get to my current adviser, Sarah Song. When I was applying to law schools, I was admitted to Berkeley's Jurisprudence and Social Policy program, and had I enrolled Sarah would have been my Ph.D. adviser in that program. Six years, five cities, four jobs, and one degree later, and I end up in a Ph.D. program with Sarah Song as my adviser. For a Chicago grad, I'm not always efficient. There is an academic adage I didn't learn from Sarah, but which very much applies to her: "Everyone in academia is smart. Distinguish yourself by being kind." Sarah Song is very smart, and very talented, and very everything one would want a great professor to be. But she is distinguished by being, without question, one of the most singularly kind people on the planet. From her I learned just how important that kindness is as part of being a great professor, mentor, and scholar. And I'm grateful to have it and her in my life every day. via The Debate Link http://bit.ly/2R9SRj7

[krixwell-liveblogs]

Check out this post. Wildbow talks about his life on reddit. This explains so much about Taylor’s school experience. No Worm spoilers

This sounds interesting. I’ve frequently wondered about how Wildbow’s life shaped this story.

Let’s take a look.

Redditors who have opted out of a standard approach to life (study then full time work, mortgage etc), please share your stories. What are the best and worst things about your lifestyle, and do you have any regrets?

Well, the title is already intriguing.

Hermit writer here.

Born hard of hearing, went to a regular school. Struggled in middle school. Struggled in high school. Kids who were in my class in kindergarten were in my classes all the way through to grade ten, with the elementary/middle school and high school being a stone's throw from one another.

I kind of knew about the hard of hearing bit already. I can’t find the ask that told me about it, though (it was probably before I stopped using screenshots for asks).

So far this sounds relatively normal, except for that part. But I’m guessing he’s going to elaborate a bit on the struggles surrounding his school life and hearing problems?

In grade 10, after years of bullying and a peer group that had established who was 'in' and who was 'out' when I was knee-high, tired of struggling, I was walking down the halls and I found myself wondering when the last time I'd even opened my mouth in school was.

Oh wow.

I stopped dead in my tracks, just paralyzed by loneliness. I asked myself what the point was, couldn't come up with an answer, resumed walking, went out the side door of the school and went home.

This clearly parallels a few of the last times we saw Taylor at Winslow High.

The start of me just not going to school for that entire year. Nobody noticed.

Damn. He really did write all that from experience. It took a while for Taylor’s absence to get noted, too.

Taylor’s absence getting noted at all actually seems like a fantasy compared to this.

I got caught at the end of the year, did the same thing the next year, got caught only at the end.

What the hell sort of attendance routines did this school have? Clearly not good ones.

Ended up going to an Alternative school (Self study), proved to myself that I had it in me when I got 3 years of studying done in 8 months, won two awards... and then had to go back to my old school for what was essentially grade 13, where I struggled.

Huh. Well done.

People learn in very different ways. Some people can do this much more effectively than learning in a group. Some people are like me and can’t make themselves keep up the effort required to self study, or learn better from lectures than reading.

Some people learn by observing their surroundings while flying.

I worked retail and found it fine. But family wanted me to go to University and figure myself out.

I’m currently working retail, taking a break from the educational system and buying time to figure out what to study.

I went to University and I struggled.

Guys, I’m sensing a theme here.

I spent a long, long time trying to figure out why I struggled, why I was tired all the time, and it took a kind of confluence of events before I realized what should've been obvious. I found the social stuff hard and I was exhausted after a day of listening because I'm severely to profoundly deaf.

Oh yeah, that makes a ton of sense. It’s like how focusing is exhausting when you have trouble doing that, how reading without glasses you need tires out your eyes and brain, etc.

Honestly, it’s a little surprising that I haven’t (explicitly) met a hard of hearing character in Worm yet. Maybe later? Oh wait, there was that deaf waitress at the villain pub in Hive.

Beyond that, the 'path' just isn't for me. The systems and institutions just grind me down. The idea of a 9 to 5 is death to me. These things are built and streamlined for the average person, and between disability and a fairly extreme degree of introversion, I'm far from that average.

That is very fair. There’s definitely a brand of ableism in that system.

In the end, I stepped off the path. I'd been writing a thing online as a side project and the reception was good, so I decided to leave school earlier than planned, use the savings I had, stretch things as far as I could, and work when I could (with a family friend when he needed the help and had the cash to spare, doing some landscaping, drywall installation, house painting, all prepping houses for sale in a boom market) to stretch things further.

This would be too early for that thing online to be Worm, right?

It just occurred to me that I have no idea how old Wildbow is.

And I wrote as seriously as I could while people close to me told me that I didn't deserve to 'get lucky' and have the writing work out because I hadn't seen University all the way through, or openly expressed doubts and disappointments.

Yikes.

Fuck that noise. Writing is tons of effort!

But you know, it worked out in the end. I wrote the equivalent of 20 books in 2.4 years, wrote another 10 for my next series in the ensuing 1.2 years, and I've kept up a similar pace over the last 7 years and two months.

Especially when you’re this coddamn productive!

That’s 8.33 books a year!

I started writing mid- 2011, left school at the start of 2012, went full-time-paying-the-bills in 2014 with an income around minimum wage. I moved to a small town (no car, nothing fancy) that same year. I'm now closer to the average Canadian wage. It's been two chapters a week (2.5 if crowdfunding money is enough) since the beginning.

Oh, I suppose that means it would be Worm after all.

When was this written... huh, yesterday? Well, that explains why this hasn’t been sent to me before.

Writing being Wildbow’s only/main income makes me feel even more right about my decision to set things up so that some of the money from my Patreon goes to Wildbow. It’s not that big a portion of his income (apparently average Canadian wage is 986 CAD or 755 USD per week, and I chip in with about 3.26 CAD or 2.50 USD per week), but it’s something.

My reality: I can go a week or two without really talking to anyone that isn't a cashier.

Sounds a bit lonely in the long run, but as a fellow introvert (or maybe I’m an ambivert, in the systems where that’s actually a thing), I get it - it also does sound pretty good. Especially if you’ve got internet people to casually interact with at your own leisure.

Every two months or so I go to a relative's to dogsit while they're on vacation or to see someone for their birthday, and that gives me most of my fill of socialization and companionship.

Nice!

I don't have a car, so it's usually walking or taking the train to another city, and using public transpo there. I subsisted on a rice and beans diet for a good stretch, one $15 video game bought in a year, and my level of expenses hasn't really risen that much from that point. I eat better and buy a couple more things, but nothing major.

So I guess this would be somewhere between average and reserved?

I don’t know. Being Norwegian spoils me on these things.

60%+ of what I earn goes to savings, which gives me security when my income could fluctuate or disappear at any time.

Oh, that’s smart. I suppose writing would be a bit of a risky business, what with writer’s block, audience fluctuations, sudden drops in popularity because something you wrote didn’t go over as well as you thought it would, etc.

My schedule is entirely my own, which usually amounts to 2.5 15+ hour workdays a week and another 5-10 hours a week spent managing community, finances, and exchanging emails with tv/movie studios, publishers or startups.

I was going to talk about the long but few workdays, but tv/movie studios excuse me what

Is a TV series version of something Wildbow wrote (Worm or otherwise) a serious possibility right now?? :o

Best things - I love what I do. I love creating, I love my reader's tears, I love my readers being horrified.

This is really important. You gotta enjoy what you do.

I get to make monsters and be surprised by what my characters do. Many of my fans are just the absolute coolest people - people I'm now insanely glad to have met and include in my life. There's amazing fanart of my work out there, music, people have gotten tattoos. Tattoos. That's insane.

People have permanently, painfully painted their appreciation of your work into their bodies, Wildbow!

The bad- I'm an online content creator, and it's impossible to convey just how toxic the toxic elements of a fandom can get and how negative the negative aspects can get, and how much it can affect you.

That is true. There will always be a toxic side, and I can imagine works like Worm would attract a lot of the edgy sort.

I've seen 20 online content creators either break down or remark on the effect it has, and it's wholly accurate- and my audience isn't even ~that~ large.

Yeah, it doesn’t take that many people to start brewing fandom sides like this.

This is multiplied by the fact that writing is lonely as a profession (I know too many writers who can't even talk to their life partners about their work) and it can be hard to find perspective or balance as you take it all in, when you don't have people to communicate with.

Robert Jordan used his wife as a beta reader or editor of sorts. She was there to tell him when something he wrote didn’t quite come across, to make up for the fact that he couldn’t tell. After all, he knew what he meant by that one line.

On a similar note, some casual dating would be nice, and living in a small town for economical reasons doesn't leave me with a large dating pool, and at this point I'm not even sure if I could or should inflict myself on someone.

Oof.

There are way too many people who think like that. I hope you find happiness with someone who sees you for the good bean you are, Wildbow.

I'm healthy, groomed, I can hold a conversation, I'm just pretty set in my introverted ways.

...relatable, though.

But still, I’m pretty sure there are people out there for us, who not only tolerate but appreciate the introvert lifestyle.

Hell, both of my crushes have been very introverted, even compared to myself, so I know those people exist because I’m among them.

On another, less social note, there is the fact that as an online content creator, you can't really take breaks. Or you can, but it costs. Consistency and frequency of updates are god, and a hiatus is a death knell.

No wonder he criticized me on this that one time. In his situation, it matters a lot.

I don't even know what an effective vacation would entail, because I feel like finding my stride again would cost more than I gained from having the break. So it's been seven years and two months without a vacation, writing a short book every month.

Damn.

You deserve so many props, Wildbow.

...at some point here I started talking to Wildbow, just like I do to Taylor and other Worm characters. Well, at least this time there’s actually a chance he’s going to read this sometime, if he hasn’t dropped my blog.

I just hope he doesn’t think it’s weird that I’m liveblogging his life story.

It makes for a very strange sort of burnout, when I love it so much, I can still regularly put out some great work to acclaim and praise, but am nonetheless worn down around the edges.

That does not sound healthy.

No regrets. This is me. This is what I'm built for.

As long as you feel it’s right for you, this is good. :)

I could do with less negativity from some fans and getting regular good nights of sleep (the deafness comes with insomnia by way of terminal tinnitus), but both of those just come with the territory.

Ouch.

I feel you on the sleep front (ADD has its ways of messing with your ability to fall asleep too), but tinnitus sounds like a particularly annoying way to be inflicted with it.

I've been telling family for the last year that I'll move to a city with more going on than (as my elderly neighbor phrased it) drinking and meth, where there's classes to take, a possible dating pool, and/or activities that could break me out of my hermit shell... but my current apartment is amazing and cheap, with the nicest landlords ever. It's just in a do-nothing town. I haven't found anything remotely competitive, even taking 'cheap' off the table.

I’ve lived in small-ish towns all my life. It’s pretty nice, especially as an introvert.

So that's where I'm at.

Thank you, Wildbow. This was an interesting read. I feel like I know you a bit better now. :)

(Again, if you’re reading this, I hope it wasn’t too weird to see me liveblogging this.)

[anonmomca]

Getting Beyond the “B” Word

I want to talk about the B word. Not because its prevalence and sometimes tragic results are increasingly making news headlines, but rather I felt it was not touching my community. I am now the first to admit that I was blissfully unaware that bullying was occurring at my child’s elementary school until this B word turned our world utterly and unstoppably upside down. I want to share a few thoughts and lessons learned on this unexpected journey because children all over the world at some point in their school years will likely be affected by bullying whether they are the bully, the victim, or an innocent bystander who witnesses the bullying. Unfortunately I learned the hard way that there is more we as parents, schools, districts, and communities can and need to do to address the B word!

I chose to write this article anonymously to maintain my child’s privacy. However, I do think that these situations and issues need to be more out in the open.  I would have tremendously benefited from more concrete tools to help navigate our situation. In the news we hear about the tragic outcomes of bullying situations, but what we don’t hear about are parents’ perspectives and how they navigated these life changing situations.  

My child is the kid you see around school, on the sports field, and in the community. You know my child as a sweet, smiley, and fun-loving kid.  And yet, little did anyone know (including me) that my child was being bullied at school day after day.  It started with some name calling. Then it turned physical. I went to the principal who had the other child apologize and tell my child they would never do it again. Fast forward to the next school year. It happened again. Not just once or twice but daily for weeks and weeks even after the school administration and the district were made aware of the situation.   Over our two-year bullying journey, here are some things I learned about how bullying is currently handled at our school/district that might surprise you, because it surprised me:

1.  Avoiding the B Word:  Surprisingly, I noticed the administration avoids actually using the word “bullying”.  Perhaps this may be from fear of litigation, but it was something I could never truly figure out or understand. Instead, I heard that my child was experiencing “unkind and undesirable behavior” which “is not tolerated by the school/district.” And if the cause of the bullying is believed to be the result of a triangle of kids, it is treated as ‘typical’ kid drama. So many times, I was told that feelings are hurt and that is why my child was being treated that way.

2. Defining Zero Tolerance: Do you really know what zero tolerance means? Given all the suicides of young kids as a result of bullying, you would think zero tolerance means that the school/district does not allow bullying period…. in any size, shape, or form. Based on my experience, zero tolerance does not mean the unwanted behavior will be stopped. Rather, zero tolerance means that the school/district is doing something; whether it is effective or not.  For my child, it meant that my child was given easy access to report any incidents to school staff and the school counselor as well as trying to help empower my child.

3. Privacy Trumps Transparency: Due to privacy concerns, the school was not able to share what steps were taken with the other child, just that ‘something’ was being done. Day after day, it was completely obvious that the steps they were taking were not effective, yet I was continuously told the situation was being handled.

4. Victim vs. Bully: My child was treated like the bully. My child was the one who was expected to walk away and avoid interaction or the situation. My child spent a lot of time talking to yard supervisors and school counselors or had to find alternate places to enjoy recess or lunch like inside the library or classrooms to avoid the bully. And, I was told that my child was not reporting each incident immediately.

Here are some personal strategies that helped me.

1. Document everything. It is hard to remember all the details.

2. Communicate with your child. One of the hardest parts about this whole situation was feeling like I couldn’t protect my child. Despite me doing everything at the school/district level to get the bullying to stop, to my child it seemed as if the responsibility was solely on my child’s shoulders to feel safe at school or resolve the situation.

3. Talk about options or solutions with your child. Have your child make a list of what he/she thinks will stop the behavior and then discuss them. Ultimately it is your child who has to face the situation on a daily basis. Telling him/her or forcing him/her to do something that is not in his/her nature will not help the situation at all and in fact will likely cause more anxiety or stress for your child.

4. This is likely the hardest thing your child has experienced to date in school and maybe even life in general. However, this will not be the last time your child is faced with a difficult or damaging situation. Use this situation to teach your child how to stick up for themselves and how to make sure they are taking care of themselves.

5. Seek outside therapy. Sometimes help and advice is better received from others.

6. Don’t assume anything. After a year of bullying, I thought there was no way they would put my child in the same class with the child that bullied. If you don’t want your child to be in the same class with a bully say so. The school may need to be reminded of prior incidents as not everything will be documented and/or reviewed prior to making decisions on placement, etc.  

All parents, moving forward PLEASE do me two important favors:

1. Talk to your kids about bullying. If bullied, encourage your child to tell someone so that it can be addressed in the early stages. Also, explain the importance and encourage your child to report any incidents of bullying that they witness.

2. As a parent, please don’t take the ‘my child would never do that approach’. If you receive a call from your child’s teacher or principal, take it seriously and really look into the situation. Do not defend your child as a knee-jerk reaction or ignore the situation.

Here is what I want schools and school districts to consider, as there is more that CAN and SHOULD be done to effectively address bullying:

1. Do not tell children that when they are experiencing bullying, it is a result of someone’s feelings being hurt. Or when incidents are happening that they are likely just ‘accidents’ and ‘jokes’. Doing so diminishes the “victims” thoughts and feelings and increases the likelihood that they will believe the administration doesn’t really care. 2. Be able to articulate school policies on bullying. Parents don’t want to continuously hear “something” is being done. Parents want to know and understand the exact strategies and tactics at various stages. Parents want their child to feel the school is supporting them. A defined plan with steps and timeframes would be appreciated. 3. Follow through with action items that are agreed upon. When a parent requests something as easy as coming up with a code word or signal to help your child let an authority figure know something, do it. When you tell the parent of the child who is being bullied that you have advised the other student to stay away from your child, don’t make excuses as to why it is OK for the bully to sit at the same lunch table as the other child or why it is OK for the bully to follow the other child around campus.  

4. The ultimate resolution of the situation does not need to be remediation. Every child and every situation are different, so what may work in one situation may not be the right plan of action for another.  

5. Encourage and strongly recommend counseling for the bully as well as the family of the bully.   6. Implement best practices. Talk to other schools both in and out of the district to see how they deal with “unkind and undesirable behavior” and zero tolerance.

Getting beyond the B Word for us:

To get beyond the B word my child changed schools midyear. I have heard many reactions to this decision, including “you should have moved your child into a different class, you should have sued, what message is this sending to your child and the bully, etc.” Here is what I can tell you: My child’s goal was to have the bullying stop immediately.  The school had been aware of the situation for basically two years and certainly daily for the last 2 months, yet incidents continued every single day. How was my child supposed to stop the bully, when the bully was spoken to by the teacher, the principal, and the school counselor. In addition, the bully’s parents were spoken to by the principal on a couple of occasions.

Having my child feeling anxious and scared to go to school each day wondering what was going to happen was unhealthy. My child still has a lot of school years left and it is our job as parents to make sure our kids are safe at school. My child, my husband, and I knew we had done everything we could to stop this ASAP.  Sadly, on our extended list of possible options, this is the only one my child felt could guarantee this situation to stop. When all other options have been exhausted, sometimes you need to remove yourself from the negative situation. I am so proud of my child for being able to recognize this. It takes a lot of courage to switch schools (even more so during the middle of the year).  

My hope is that if children and families do find themselves in a bullying situation, moving schools is not the only effective option to make the bullying stop. Bullying is no joke and can be done by people that you would least expect to behave like that. Bullying can take many different forms, but all forms cause harm and/or emotional damage forever. So, I am asking every child, parent, teacher, and school administrator to truly take our story and lessons learned into consideration.

If you currently find yourself in this situation or have suggestions on bullying in schools in general, please feel free to contact me anonmomca@yahoo.com  

Together we can give a more tangible meaning to zero tolerance.