#bc nobody else seemed to know saturday!!!!!

[josephtrohman]

that was the most insane best emo night i EVER could have hoped for even with its downsides

[dwindlinghaze]

language of flowers

summary: the five times remus gave you flowers secretly and the one time you gave him not so secretly (plus extra)

contents: fluff, angst, bad writing bcs it's 1 am in ly country and i can't sleep.

a/n: my fav writing prompt so i just have to do it :) i hope u enjoy ☁️☁️☁️☁️

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

one

you walked with your arms linked with mary as you two made your way to enter the charms' classroom. it was quite sunny outside, seeing as the flowers in the meadows were blossoming prettily.

"don't you just love spring?" the girl sighed, gazing at the scenery outside the stoney windowsill miles below. "look how colourful those flowers are!"

"they sure do look unreal! like that poppy field in wizard of oz!" you replied, matching her energy.

"mhm but this one's not poisonous, i assure you!" she grinned before you two separate ways to your own assigned desks.

you made a bee line towards your table, furrowing your brows at the peculiar light pink object on your desk. you reached close enough to see that it was a carnation you had thought was a rose.

a single stem with pale pink petals. over it, sat a small folded parchment that was tied with similar coloured ribbon as the flower.

you opened it curiously, tilting your head to the side. it said:

I don't want to look at anything else now that I saw you. I don't want to think of anything else now that I thought of you. I've been sleeping so long in years of dark night and now I see daylight, I only see daylight

your heart fluttered at the messy scribbles in the palm of your hand. cheeks growing maroon as you try to hide your face behind nothing.

"watcha have there?" a blooming voice came from beside you, catching you off guard.

you jumped back a little, causing the person next to you laugh. "oh hey rem," you said in trembling words.

"hey," he replied to the greeting as he sat down beside your desk. "you've got a flower!" he smirked teasingly.

remus saw the severe blush in your cheeks, him applauding for himself inside. he was the one that gave them to you- the flower and the note. it was a giddy feeling to see how you react in such a happy way.

"someone left me a flower!" you grinned at him, showing your bright smile. "uh but i'm not sure if it's meant for me i- maybe they just put it in the wrong desk," you felt yourself deflated at the thought.

it was logical though. nobody ever seems to be interested in seeing you. let alone giving you a handwritten love letter with a carnation.

seeing the excitement fading off from you, remus spoke up abruptly, "i don't think it's in the wrong desk. this specific desk has always been your since first year. c'mon smile for me yeah? the flower is meant for you. and only for you."

you smiled at him, feeling your cheeks reddened again. a small part of you hoped that it was from remus. you liked him since god knows when but you never spoke of it. afraid of what might be as the outcome.

"thanks rem, you really know how to make people feel better," you said to him, eyes glimmered with adoration for the boy.

"what does the letter say?" he spoke softly, looking at you in curiosity.

you unfold the piece of parchment that was on your palm before reading the heartwarming words to him. "not gonna lie- i had a hard time reading it the first time," you chuckled.

remus laughed nervously, fingers gripping on his chair. he scribbled it messily on purpose in hopes of making you not know that he is the one writing it for you as for he knew you will recognise his usual handwriting in the back of you head.

you put the flower and the note inside your robe's pocket, making sure that no damage will be done.

you went to bed that night with the words repeating inside your head like a mantra. nobody has ever said such thing to you. with the carnation placed on your night table, you toss and turn in your bedsheets. hoping a certain boy who loves chocolate and books and sweaters and libraries and teas and blankets and-

two

saturday afternoons are the best time to spend in the library. nobody ever cares to even steal a glance at the large wooden doors- their minds are full of weekend spirits.

that's exactly why you went to the desolated place. reading one of your favourite muggle fiction beside the windowsill as the rain pattered on the glass, its sound calming your ears.

you finished your book in the quiet until you were completely done, getting up to get a new once since you really have nothing to do today.

mary was still sleeping. she dedicated saturdays as her 'stay in bed the whole day', therefore now you're alone. you weren't exactly close friends with lily and her friends though you talk to them once every while; your friendship was kept small.

your pointer finger ran through the spine of the books, stopping once you saw one that catches your interest. you head back to your secluded desk, only to find another flower on top of it.

your heart beat twice faster now, glancing around to see if anyone's there or not. you couldn't seem to spot anyone though.

the flower this time is not a carnation. it was a white tulip. a paper was also attached within the stem just like last time.

you read it, it was shorter than the last one:

you're a mansion with a view.

it took you an embarrassing amount of time to fully understand what it meant.

mansion with a view- beautiful inside and out.

if you had a mirror in hand right now, the reflection it shows will be you and your crimson red cheeks.

after reading that, you find it hard to avert your focus to the book in front of you. the words were like splutter of inks and has no meanings.

at last, you decided to go back to the common room, seeing what the others were doing. you bumped into someone on the way there. someone tall and smells nice and familiar. with the impact of the crash, the things inside his bag are now on the floor, scattering everywhere.

"oh i'm so sorry i wasn't looking!" you sent an apologetic glance at the person, only to find out that he's remus lupin.

"s'fine," the boy smiled, kneeling down to collect his things.

"here, let me help you," you said, picking up the ones that were more far away from him, now all of his belongings are in his bag again.

"hey, s'this yours?" he held up a small parchment.

"uh yeah," you chuckled. "funny. you remember when someone gave me a flower a few days ago? they gave me one again."

"you think it's funny?" remus furrowed his brows, secretly eager for your answer.

"well- no. it's just not typical for me to receive these stuff. i like them though. it's very sweet," you blushed.

remus adored the faint pinks in your cheeks. he was the reason for that- technically. he didn't know what to reply, afraid if he said something, his stealthiness will be exposed.

"i'm going to the common room, you comin'?" he spoke.

"yeah. i was going there too," you nodded and began walking with him to the gryffindor tower.

remus is a mansion with a view.

you felt bad for the person that wrote you the letter because you were thinking of someone else with those exact words that they wrote for you. you couldn't help but wonder who it is though. maybe by then you'd fall for them too with all the sweet compliments they give.

three

a pretty and small bundle of blue flowers was propped on your desk one morning, like it's waiting for you. a small note was also attached to it, like the usual.

your smile grew larger, trying to hide your blush with your hair as you strode to your table.

you can't lie- you've been looking forward to it. it's almost like the only thing that's been keeping you excited lately.

"ooh, you've still got a secret admirer huh?" mary snickered, pushing your side teasingly.

"mhm," you agreed mindlessly, smiling in a joking manner her way, not caring about how much you will be poked fun at.

"don't you wonder who it is?" she raised her brows.

"i do," you admitted. "if they confess to me in real life, i'm sure i will give it a try," you shrugged as you opened the small paper.

"read it aloud. i want to know how much of a hopeless romantic some people are," mary giggled.

"if all my flowers grew back as thorns, windows boarded up after the storm. i'd built a fire just to keep you warm..." you said slowly, comprehending the words.

"aw that's sweet although i've no idea what it means except the last line," mary said.

"oh shut it mary," you nudged her side, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

you hoped whoever this is, knows how much you appreciate them and should not be afraid to confess to you openly. you would be upset if this person didn't make the move because you feel like the person behind this is sweet and hopeful.

you've got a slender vase in your dorm filled with water half way up to put the flower in them to keep them alive as long as it can. these pretty blue forget-me-nots are a perfect addition to your collection.

"moony, when are you going to actually confess to her? are you going to wait until earth slipped off its axis and fell into jupiter?" sirius flopped down on remus' bed face first, groaning.

"what are you talking about. i already have," remus replied nonchalantly.

"no- pads meant like actually! not in some handwritten note that doesn't even have your name in it- let alone your initials!" james chimed in.

"that's the whole point y'know. so she doesn't find out," remus rolled his eyes.

"don't get sassy moony," sirius slapped his arm. "what if she found out that it was you all along?"

"she wouldn't."

"she would," james retorted.

"she wouldn't."

"she definitely is going to."

"no."

"your head is as thick as the hogwarts wall," sirius scoffed. "one way or another- she's going to find out about it- or at least try to."

"say, if she did find out it was you, will you two be like- i don't know- together?" james thought out loud.

"i doubt i can."

remus. remus lupin with his complicated head. he sends you flowers and love letter daily but he doesn't want to be with you? pathetic.

"why not? it's y/n we're talking about. she fancies you," james said.

"i don't know," remus said, burying himself under his blanket while also pushing sirius off of his mattress.

truth be told- it would be his biggest regret if he never spoke of his love. he would love to be loved by you or even just loving you.

somewhere in the haze, he has grown some strong feelings for you. he didn't know how it happened or when or maybe it had always been there since you two got paired up in care of magical creatures.

he grew fond of you. the little things that you do make him fall for you even more. the way he wants to be the highlight of your day, the moon in your twilight, the sunrise in your mornings. he wants it all.

he wants to know the feeling of being mutually in love. though he believed no one will ever love a monster like himself.

that part of him is slowly breaking his own heart. how could anyone ever be in love with a hybrid? how will anyone ever live with the curse of their beloved one?

even with all the reassurances in the world, he would never accept himself. it was a blessing for him to even have friends. he wondered if some miracle could be strong enough and kill the wolf inside him so he can love openly.

so he can love you without any doubt and afterthoughts.

four

monday sun rises, meaning classes are back to normal again. you were getting ready for the day, sitting on your vanity when a common barn owl dropped a stem of flower right at your lap.

a pretty pink hydrangea was there, a note slipped in between the delicate petals.

all these people think love's for show, but i would die for you in secret

your smile reached your eyes as you put the pink flower along with the other bundle of flowers from your admirer.

you were kind of in a funny situation. you wanted to always keep getting these flowers for as long as possible but you also wanted to know who this person is but also you wanted remus to give you these.

it's all silly, you know.

"rem! i got another flower!" you said giddily as you stood beside him for the first class. it was a very heart-fluffing thing to see for him. you look flushed and happy.

"yeah? this person must love you very much!" remus replied with a sly smile. it was quite a nice feeling; talking about his love for you in a third person.

"yeah..." you trailed off. a part of you had a small hope of remus being your secret admirer but he seemed to be so cool about it. he doesn't show any signs or hints. maybe he's just a good actor. "do you have any idea who might that be?"

"mmm, no," he shook his head, turning his focus on the professor ahead. "but this person better be so proud of themselves because they made you giddy. look at you! you look like a puppy in a park," he chuckled.

"oh shush," you kicked his feet softly.

you made a mental note to yourself to be cautious of your surroundings at all costs next time, especially when you're alone. you were curious to find out who the person behind this is.

many many thoughts swam through the head of yours. a certain person popping here and there too.

five

you walk with your head down.

it hasn't been a pleasant day. firstly, your shoes got stuck on the mud when you're on the way to attend care of magical creatures. secondly, you dropped your bowl of soup during lunch, ending up with you having to deal with the stickiness in your uniform skirt until class has ended because there's zero time in between each.

it wasn't a big thing really, but it was big enough to bother you for the rest of the day.

your daily flower hasn't been sent too.

that was a silly thing to think of.

you decided to have an evening stroll around the castle grounds, just to clear your head a bit. you haven't had nature walks in quite a long time.

what you didn't expect was to see a certain gryffindor boy, holding a book while scheming through the field of wild plants.

you couldn't quite catch what the book was, but you caught how calm he was. how stunning he looks under the warm orange sun.

remus looks so peaceful. like a painting. like he has no single worry in the world. (as he should)

he bent down, reaching for a pink flower. he held it with such tenderness, afraid it will be damaged.

you hid behind a tree, heart beating in anticipation.

you knew this was wrong. say if you were the one who's giving out flower to your crush secretly, you wouldn't want anyone to see.

thank god it was getting dark because now you were able to run back to the castle. breathless.

when you arrived at your dorm minutes later, you saw that same identical flower remus picked earlier on your bed.

it was a pink chrysanthemum. smells beautiful.

this one looked the prettiest compared to the rest somehow. maybe because you saw that beautiful sight of remus picking them fresh from the soil.

the note read;

i'm captivated by you, like a firework show. i see sparks fly whenever you smile.

every word now and then seemed to melt your heart a little more, knowing the person behind this.

six

it has been a few days since. the last class you were supposed to be having right now was dismissed, meaning the students have extra time before dinner.

you decided to go outside, to the field of wild plants.

you now felt somewhat guilty for dragging this- although you shouldn't really. it was remus' idea and whatever is the outcome, it will be on him but since you found out about it, you can't help but feel like you have to face remus.

tell him so he doesn't have to be a lover from afar. so he doesn't have to be hopeless and pining for god knows how long.

well, how bad can it be? you two have the same feelings to each other. nothing bad will happen right?

you don't know much about flowers but a red rose seems like the most common type of flower to give to your significant other.

you decided to pick them up, stupidly not realising that there were thorns on them.

"aah!" you hissed, dropping it on the ground. you looked at your finger, a red scratch painfully visible on your skin.

"are you okay? what happened? why are you bleeding?" a familiar voice appeared from behind you. "oh [y/n]..." remus frowned sympathetically as he grabbed your fingers. he grabbed it with such tenderness that it reminds you of how he hold that pink flower.

"m'fine, rem." you pulled your fingers but he was much stronger than you are.

remus took out his handkerchief from his pocket for him to wrap them around your scar in order to stop the bleeding. "what are you doing here?" he asked, gently caressing your hand.

"i-," you paused, taking a deep steady breath. "i wanted to give you a rose," you replied, unable to look at his face.

he dropped your hand, his mouth agape.

you can't be. there's no way....

he waited for your explanation. "i know i shouldn't but i saw you. three days ago, you were here. um, i wanted to give you a note with a flower too. uh- here," you put the folded parchment to his palms. cheeks red from embarrassment.

remus was afraid of what the note contained. it could be you rejecting his feeling or something else he couldn't quite make himself to believe.

he put the parchment inside his pocket, "let's go back."

and that was the last thing you heard from remus.

extra

it has been two days. two whole days of remus being afraid to open your note.

it was propped on his desk. untouched.

he didn't even know why he's being this complicated. of course james and sirius were right. you would find out sooner or later. you are not dumb. never.

so today, he man-ed up himself.

he reached for the parchment that was tied with a pale yellow ribbon, slowly unfolding it. he saw small doddles of yours around the edges and corners.

this sure is not a rejection letter.

he felt so ashamed. he must be putting you through a tough time right now and it's all because of his fear of being rejected.

don't you worry your pretty little mind. people throw rocks at things that shine. and life makes love looks hard. the stakes are high, the water's rough. but this love is ours.

that is the sweetest thing remus has ever read. he quickly got up from his bed. done sulking around and absolutely done with being scolded by james and sirius every hour of the day.

he will make it up to you. he will.

you on the other hand was sad, confused, and lonely at the same time. it's miserable and not magical.

you thought it would be good to give remus a rose? bad decision.

for god's sake, you didn't even know for sure that the flower he picked was for you! it could be for someone or something else. maybe that flower you received was from someone who is not remus.

maybe just the colour of the flower was the same as the one remus picked. that's it.

your thought were quickly interrupted when remus entered your space.

his eyes looked tired and hopeful at the same time. in front of him was a giant bouquet of different kinds of pink and white flowers.

"forgive me please?" he said slowly, stretching his arms forward.

"wh-"

"i'm sorry. sorry for not responding to you sooner. for keeping you in a difficult situation. i'm going to make it up, i promise."

"it's okay, you're here," you smiled at him, that sunken feeling went away.

"i am. these are for you, there's roses."

"rem- they're so pretty," you took it from him.

"like how you are-" he said, cringing at his own words. somehow when you're around, his brain seemed to lag.

you shook your head, laughing, "i love them."

"i was wondering; if you're free on saturday, would you want to go on like- a date? with... me?" he bounced his legs.

"at six?"

"yes."

"a date then."

[foliejpg]

sage @puppyboymikeyway submitted a bunch of fob asks from this post so here ya go <3 putting it under a read more bc its a novel 😭

tttyg

dead on arrival: which of andy's haircuts is your favorite?

honestly i liked when he had the short bob and it was straight. he looked more like a lesbian then than usual

grand theft autumn: which was the first fall out boy song you heard and liked?

actually its this song 😭 i remember hearing it in a hot topic when i was around 15-16 and going home to look up the lyrics on my computer, then listening to every album straight through from tttyg to srar straight through in order lol srar had just come out

saturday: best concert you've attended?

my first fob show is special to me bc i got m&g tickets, so is the albany show this past march bc i got to meet them again with my boyfriend and a bunch of friends<333 but the best concert that the artist has put on i mean. i have to come clean i am a bit of a swiftie and the eras tour was crazy 😭 and fenway last year during tourdust because patrick did wams during the medley just for me<333 that's My Song

the pros and cons of breathing: do you own any fall out boy albums on cd or vinyl?

yes! here's a picture because there's a lot 💀 not pictured is the we didn't start the fire 7" because its so tiny i didn't see it until after i took the picture lmao

grenade jumper: trohmania or bass spin?

i gotta go with the bass spin sorry joe<3

the patron saints of liars and fakes: last big regret?

i wish i went to the madison square garden show in march but i couldn't afford the tickets</3

cork tree

our lawyer: worst fob rumor you've heard?

i can't really think of one? all i can think of is that one interview where patrick says the worst one he heard was that he was actually 31 and not 21

nobody puts baby in the corner: favorite 80's film?

who framed roger rabbit, clue, and that's all i can think of 😭 i'm not a big movie person

sixteen candles: favorite fob mv?

young and menace, america's suitehearts, hmlag, dance dance

the music or the misery: favorite bonus track?

from now on we are enemies and my heart is the worst kind of weapon, but i like the acoustic version of the latter way more<3

my heart is the worst kind of weapon: last time you said something you regretted?

bro i can't think of anything i don't listen to myself talk 💀

ioh

this ain't a scene, its an arms race: patrick in cardigans or patrick in sweaters?

SWEATERS lemme see that fabric stretch

thnks fr th mmrs: best memory?

i have no idea lmao when i met fob idk i have a really bad memory

don't you know who i think i am?: which high school stereotype would you describe yourself with?

is "snot nosed know it all who thinks she's better than everyone else but is just sheltered and bratty" a stereotype

fame < infamy: do you like black cards?

i'm a fake fan i've never listened 💀 bebe is a queen though

folie

lullabye: opinion on 'elisa stans?'

i don't know what that means these asks are from 2018 but everyone should leave fob's family alone <3

27: favorite instrument

BASS. i love bass guitar i need to feel it in my chest

w.a.m.s. which job would you prefer, waiter/actress/model/singer?

singer bc i enjoy singing and used to be good at it lol i can't act and food service freaks me out i don't want to be responsible for other people's food and also modeling just seems awful 💀

west coast smoker: favorite 80's band?

i love the smiths and joy division bc i'm a basic emo<3

srar

where did the party go: bass lines or guitar solos?

bass lines a million times over!!!! plus sometimes guitar solos make my ears ring 😅

death valley: who would you most like to be greeted by in the afterlife?

idk my cat kayla she passed when i was like 6 she was a good girl or my cat china (my mom named her 💀) she was a good girl too. lots of good girls here

abap

irresistible: which mv was your favorite?

the original one with the basketball game they're so goofy lmao

the kids aren't alright: if you could send a message to yourself five years ago, what would it say?

run for the fucking hills girl!!!!!!!

jet pack blues: which was your favorite fall out boy era?

this one because they're all happy and healthy and living their best lives, having lots of fun on stage and being weird and interacting with fans again<333

novocaine: cause of your last time in the hospital?

uhhhhh i can't remember the last time i was in the hospital lmao

favorite record: do you collect cds or vinyls?

both! i have a lot of both lol

mania

young and menace: are you excited for the future of fall out boy?

of course<3 i hope whatever they do next is satisfying creatively for them because i would rather wait a few years for new music than have them go back to working themselves to the bone and exhausting themselves so i'm sure whatever comes next will be worth the wait, stardust certainly was<3

champion: what's your proudest moment as a fan of them?

i don't knowwww i really like the little corner of the internet i'm in with some friends and mutuals and i get a lot of asks/msgs from ppl so i like that i've made a comfy little space for ppl to talk about fob<3 does that count lol idk i'm also proud of them for like. still doing what they're doing at their age those crusty old men

wilson: if you could purchase one thing being advertised in the wilson video, what would it be?

WORKING MALE MOUTH

sunshine riptide: if you could say one thing to the band, what would it be?

i would say thank you for making art and i would also corner pete and maKe him tell me about the pool ball strike at the beginning of disloyal order he can't get away with this anymore

WHOOOO BOY okay thanks for sending all those i hope you enjoy this essay<3

[writingsofwesteros]

alright believe it or not but im once again at work (saturday night shift) and imma try my hand at the secretary thing. first person POV bc we're experimenting.

Just when has my life become so lame? It's saturday night, I should be out, checking out that newly opened club with my girlfriends. Instead I'm at work. Yep! Me! Blood of the Lannisters! At work. I know.

Last chance to do something with your life, my father said, as he pulled the strings to land me this position. You might know him as Robert Baratheon, the founder of Storm Industries.

You better be choking on his dick by the end of this month or else we're all screwed, my mother helpfully instructed me as to the extent of my duties. You may know her as Cersei, the self-appointed Queen Bee of Upper East.

The Queen suffers no competition, which is how I ended up as a secretary for Mr Stark, a.k.a. the Ice Wolf - the C.E.O. of Storm Industries and the hottest DILF of Wall Street, fuck him very much. My mother hates his wife with passion and having me seduce him is her idea of revenge.

I mean, I've done worse things.

It is saturday night, but if he's still working then that means I'm still working too. From my vantage point behind my desk I can see him clearly, as he's strolling around his office and tossing papers around. His form fitting suit is slightly disheveled at this hour, the white collar popped open. H's wearing designer glasses - he says they prevent his eyes from tiring when he's working late and I have no idea what the glasses actually do but they make him look sexy as hell. I mean he is that. Sexy as hell. I've been staring at him for the past hour, all secretary work long forgotten.

Unfortunately none of my seduction tactics seem to work on him. Three entire months of sky-high heels, skirts that would barely cover my underwear if I had any, and cleveages that ends somewhere around my navel. Excellent dress code, I know. I aim to please. Guess what?

He hasn't even looked once.

But yesterday I think my mother has finally outdone herself. We've all been to dinner at the Arryns'. A rich old politician who is meant to help father with something, no idea what they're about, but that's beside the point. The Starks were there: the Ice Wolf, his wife the Ice Queen, as we call her, and their two hot sons.

And get this: mother had me give him a footsie under the table. In front of his wife and sons and my own father and everything. Yeah. I wish I was joking.

The second my foot touched his thigh under the table, his eyes immediately shot to me, but... he said nothing. He's done nothing. He only watched me, as I massaged his crotch with my foot. Maybe his ears went a little red, but otherwise - nothing, nada. Null. His gaze was intense, and it was kinda hot, not gonna lie. But I couldn't tell what he was thinking or if he was even enjoying it. I mean, I could tell he was hard but who wouldn't be? Eventually I had to stop because the Arryn guy wanted to show everyone his new private jet and we had to move from the table.

Thanks for nothing, mom.

I feared I made an idiot of myself and I was sure Mr Stark would fire me the second I crossed the doorstep of our office today, but... nothing of the sort. He was all cool politeness, and his DILFy sexiness, as always. And he made me stay overtime.

I actually think I might go mad with blue balls. Blue vag? Is that a thing?

Uh-oh. He wants something. He's rang the bell. Nobody's around this late and it makes me a little jittery, but I gather my courage, stand up, push my boobs forward and march into his corner office with all the dignity that's left to me.

"I want to show you something," he says and he points to a pile of papers on his desk. I see thay are some kind of screenshots, but the lights are dimmed and I can't read the details.

I lean down over the desk to have a closer lookand my heart freezes several times over. Suddenly it's hard to breathe. On his desk lay printed screenshots of my conversations with my mother. Conversations regarding him and how best to seduce him.

I panic and immediately start planning my evacuation, but suddenly I feel his strong hand on my back, pressing me to the desk.

"And you thought you were so smart," he says, standing behind me. On this lucky cursed night I'm actually wearing underwear, but it's all lace and so thin it's practically not there. I feel the broad knuckles of his other hand brush over my snatch. You know, because my skirt does nothing to cover my privates.

"Smart girls should always remember to log out," Mr Stark informs me.

I am not a smart girl. Never have been.

HOT HOT HOT

Oh i love how involved Cersei is in this; just adds another layer !!

[skinni-girls-eat-books]

Saturday, January 27th, 2024!

9:09am feeling good just wanted to check in!! Slept pretty well, got 9hrs! My body keeps naturally waking up around 6/7ish but it's like why am I waking up I feel like crap? It's like my body is randomly waking up in the middle of a sleep cycle. I wonder if I am having bad dreams and just not remembering them? I never remember any of my dreams ever, like maybe twice a year. Hmmm.

Positive note! I have off today and will be attempting to go to gasparilla! I say attempting bc it can definitely be anxiety inducing after what happened last year! It was rough. But I AM RECLAIMING GASPARILLA!! It is not his or my mom's to taint/ ruin/ or color in a negative or awkward light. It is my day to paint in positive, jovial, celebratory light! It's a pirate throwdown! We all know this is the type of event where people get too drunk and get angry and start pissing contests with each other, but it's hard to do that when you're with the best company (yourself!!) Just get buzzed, not sloppy drunk, and enjoy not being at work!! I really want to adopt this attitude for all of my time off lol.

Really, the only thing I would gain from bringing people to this event is like picture opportunities? Or a DD? But I don't even want to get drunk enough to need a DD so that's not the objective at all. Safety? Truly, I have never felt unsafe doing things alone (but surrounded by hundreds of ppl like come on). Someone to hold hands/ hug if they were a partner? ...... Awkward what if they're trying to bang on the Porto potty when all I wanna do is catch beads fr bc I could totally see some shit like that happening and pissing me off. I don't like having to coordinate my ideas/ timeline/ mindset with another person or people. Guys are horndogs and high-key suck ass, wanting to leave early, just to go home and do shit nothing and the same shit they do every other day!! Relationships and friendships are work and I have enough on my plate fr. All this to say, don't be sad you're going alone! Be happy that you're going! It's the same as any other giant thing you've been to! If you see someone you know, say hi and treat them how you would want to be treated! Ask if they're being safe, have they had any water, are they having a good time, and keep it light! Or you may see nobody you know and this is 100% more likely so just go with the flow! ❤️

10:08am oops haven't moved from the couch but that is ok :) I fucking love the positivity of Tumblr it's like literally endless stream of good advice and kindness like woah. SC is toxic AF, FB is a pretty bad wormhole, and reddit can be too much like seeing similar stories but almost never following through with solutions?? Tumblr at least seems like they know how to fix their issues lol this is probably a weird rant. Also glad I got rid of IG and TT I don't miss that weird shit. Very random rant over.

I think something I am having trouble with is that so many individual instances of my pain were just swept under the rug and forgotten about by everyone else? Nobody understands all the things that built up my resentment because to everyone else they just seem like unrelated events? Like what does his brother have to do with the dog have to do with all of the other things that constantly are brought up in my mind? They were all invasions of my privacy, inability to feel comfortable in my own apartment. It feels like a crime scene in here still sometimes, not all the time, but a lot of the time? My own apartment feels abused idk if that makes any sense like this apartment feels as resilient as I do, it's seen some weird shit. I love my cats if it wasn't for them, I would feel much worse.

10:37am I am having huge problems with unwanted thoughts they are incessant and from waking up to going to sleep. Going on tumblr is a good brain distraction but I want to just be able to sit with myself or drive or do mundane tasks without unwanted thoughts popping into my head?? What do I do fr.

10:52am ok wow I have had so much to write about recently. I have thought of a new strategy. When I have intrusive thoughts about her or him just say out loud to myself, that's something I would not do/like/ enjoy. That does not sound like anything I would do. And just distance myself from them.

I would never knowingly enter another woman's home. I would never send nudes to a man I know was in a relationship. I would never accept/save nudes from another person if I was in a relationship (and thank God I never have and can stand on that shit 🙏). I would never put myself in a position to traumatize another woman. I would never put myself in a position to make another woman question everything about herself. I would never put my partner in a position to compete with other people for my attention (if it is truly a serious, monogamous relationship). I would never cheat on my partner. Period, sis???

Y'all are the worst type of people and I really don't care how you guys redeem yourselves or justify your behavior. Y'all can keep that between you both. I don't want any part of people who act this way. This is my boundary and think it's a pretty damn good one. ❤️

12:05pm wearing a crop top with no bra and feeling extremely sexy. Also drinking a mimosa and feeling like a baddie. Damn if I ever feel sad or bad about myself literally just dressing sexier will help. I stg.

4:43pm I feel so sexy and promiscuous I could literally fuck anyone RN and it feels awesome I have so much power over my body and I'm in control. Leaving the parade, going to Ybor for free shots, will probably leave when it's dark (6ish?) But damn I feel amazing AF!!

6:10pm uuurg mad bc I have nobody to have sex with............... SIKE bitch just love yourself the way you want to be loved!!!! Finna play w my vibe and wear comfy clothing and eat leftovers bc that's how I want to be treated so might as well start by treating myself that way!!!! ❤️ It takes time, good things take time, what's the rush if I want it ten/ twenty/ thirty years from now?? ❤️❤️❤️

7:54pm if me setting boundaries is hostile... Oh fucking well you don't get the nice accommodating me anymore since you decided to cross all of my boundaries previously 🙄🙄🙄🙄 fuck you, at least I have it in writing that he doesn't want to take the cats so whatever I just don't want you to break my screen door either... Sincerely a woman living alone in 2024, a fear you will never fucking know..

[iggysmice]

Fun story! long though, so here's a readmore:

So on Saturday (3/11) I was woken up by my dad telling me I was going to the grocery store with him bc my dad is a fan of communal suffering and also doesn't always like shopping alone.

Why didn't he ask my brother? I don't know, i think its because i tend to be more okay with being woken up and taken somewhere. I can just roll out of bed, run my hand thru my hair so it sticks up in a more organized fashion, and go. its the PNW, nobody cares if you're at a store in pajamas, and in fact it makes sense to most of us bc like, why wouldn't you want to be comfy while running errands? We also tend to wear lounging clothes to travel for similar reasons.

along the way we pick up my buddy venus who lives down the road which is kind of hilarious because she also lived down the road from me when we were growing up. she has to get groceries too and does not have a car right now so my dad helps her out with rides because we live close.

why do i live with my parents at 25? the economy is in shambles and also it's more viable while I'm in school because i dont also have to try and work full time bc i live in a 4 person household so collectively we manage better than we might alone. I am also very autistic and need my mom a lot.

either way i wandered around the store for a while and then we drove back to venus's apartment. She lives on the 3rd floor and this is the kind of apartments that have homeless people smoking meth in the stairwells and sleeping in the halls to be out of the rain so there is not an elevator. actually, the easiest route to her specific apartment is currently blocked because they're doing construction on the walkway. the rumor is that the aforementioned homeless meth users started a fire that compromised the integrity of the wooden walkway. unclear if it happened on purpose and i could see it going either way- homeless people here often have camp stoves they light to keep warm at night because it's not warm here, if one was on meth or otherwise distracted one might knock over the camp stove on accident. one under the influence of substances may also just like, Decide to start a fire.

all this to say i had a long way and three flights of stairs to go to help my friend carry her groceries. at no point did i feel like i was overextending or hurting myself.

that evening my left boob started hurting. This happens sometimes, boob havers all know it to be true, but id just gotten a birth control shot on Thursday and i was late so my hormones were fucky and like, blood clots from messing with those hormones can hurt or kill even young boob havers, so i was a little concerned. i also get HS abscesses on my boobs once in a while which I am going to use as an argument as to why my insurance should cover top surgery someday. i say "boob haver" because its very funny and inclusive phrasing not everyone with them is a woman, even my gender is more "lesbian" than anything else.

so i took some tylenol and monitored the boob. the pain seemed manageable through sunday, but when i woke up on monday, oh boy...

i get abscesses a lot, and they're usually close to the surface and fast growing- very painful as it pushes aside all the structures in your skin and wrecks the tissue. i was once asked if there's any like, feeling of relief when one drains because the pressure is gone and i answered that it hurts too much for me to sense any pressure changes and mostly i just feel relieved that its draining the nasty stuff out because that means its going to start to heal, theres no physical sensation.

the pain and spasms in my boob on sunday were getting to be comparable to that. i figured id sleep and being still would help and id feel better in the morning.

monday morning it was worse. the spasms under my boob felt like i was being stabbed or the breast itself was being pulled violently off of me. it was bad when i sat down but it was intolerable when i stood or breathed deeply.

at this point you might think "kodi, hospital" and i did in fact decide to go to a walk in clinic. for people who arent sure what the differencr between a walk in clinic and a doctors clinic is, there are basically three levels of care, at least in my area of the US.

If you can wait a week, you should make an appointment with your doctor at their office or clinic. This is for things like a cough that isn't impeding you but it's weird it won't go away, or to get a flu shot. If you can wait several hours or even a full day, an urgent care or walk in clinic is ideal. These offer same day care and often large enough doctors offices will also have walk in hours so that even in a moderate emergency you can come to your regular office, which helps when you're hurt or sick. This is the level I sought. If you can't wait at all, like you are diabetic and can't control your blood sugar for some reason, go to the emergency room. ERs are 24hr and usually at large hospitals. you want to go there if you are having appendix pain or have broken a bone. If you won't survive long enough for the car ride to the ER, that's when you call an ambulance. You probably won't be the one who does this.

Anyway, i went to the urgent care at my doctors office. i called my grandma to take me because my dad was at work and i was not going to walk to a bus stop or get in an uber in the state i was in. plus, i just don't like taking ubers because as a tiny little woman, at least externally, you don't generally get into a car with a stranger, so it feels weird to do on purpose.

The reception said there was 9 people waiting ahead of me. i resigned to my fate (sitting in a waiting room in pain all day) and curled up in a chair, supporting my poor boob as much as i could to alleviate the pain. my best guess is that because my check in said i was there for "chest pain on the left side" they prioritized me a little in case i happened to be having a heart attack and they had to call 911 because i was only curled up there for like half an hour. maybe longer. i had not slept and so i sort of took advantage of my positional pain relief in the chair and had a catnap.

they took blood from me and did an ekg, to make sure it wasn't the heart. id been hurting for about three days now and told everyone "if it was my heart id probably just be dead after this long."

The doctor's best guess is that i sprained my pectoral muscle, probably when i was helping venus carry things, because sprains can have a delayed pain response like that. he did also say "since you didn't fall and you don't lift weights i'm not sure how you injured yourself that way" so put that in the pile of Times I Have Confused Medical Professionals With A Condition alongside all the completely asymptomatic sinus infections i got as a child and the extremely linger-y cough i had after a flu as a teenager.

anyway i got a bunch of medication to help me be able to sleep and while it makes me a little loopy, its better than the amount of pain i was in.

[himbeaux-on-ice]

not to be a bummer at 10am on a Saturday, but I feel like I oughta make a disclaimer now to the numerous ppl who have said they’re getting really invested in the whole 6167 “enemies to lineys” narrative thing bc of me: Max Pacioretty only has one more season (2022-23) on his contract in Vegas and doesn’t have any trade protections, and you should honestly know this up front. more under the cut.

Mark Stone is signed probably til he retires (2027) with a full no-move clause, so he’s here forever. however, there are currently no guarantees that Max Pacioretty’s story ends in Vegas. I think he wants it to — he seems to genuinely love the city (a lot), and genuinely believe in the team (a lot), but neither of those things were enough to keep him from being traded last time either, and there are no trade protections built into his current contract.

Vegas is in a constant cap crunch, and he is getting to be an “older” player who, while I think he still wants to play in the NHL for a long while yet and is kinda fanatic about keeping himself in good shape, just had a very injured season this year (which increases the feeling of risk associated with signing him), and would also probably be expected to take a slight discount to stay a few more years (which may make it harder to reach a new valuation that both team and agent like). if Vegas misses the playoffs this season, or is bad next year, that adds to the uncertainty, as big changes to the core and lineup become more likely if that is the case.

look, nobody else has scored more goals for the franchise since Max got here than he has, but we’ve seen this management be decently ruthless before, and his agent is Allan Walsh — which means he’ll probably be taken care of no matter where he ends up (bc Allan tries to look out for his guys), but avoiding burning bridges with management while arguing over value isn’t exactly that agent’s top priority (bc Allan is more like an attorney than an agent sometimes).

Max also hasn’t in the past liked to have contract negotiations ongoing during the season, so if they don’t sign an extension in the summer of 2022, there might not be one until right before free agency 2023, if at all. if the Knights are bad next year, he could be a trade deadline sale as a pending UFA (feels unlikely this year with a year left and his injuries). they might even ruthlessly dump him to shed salary over the summer bc they have Jack now to do scoring things. he may not be willing to take a discount of a few million on his next deal bc he’s been such a valuable scorer and Montreal massively underpaid him for years.

we don’t really know what’s gonna happen. maybe they’ll extend him four more years in this summer with a reasonable cap hit (and a nice NMC) and it’s fine! but I can’t predict the future, and with how this season is going there’s just too much uncertainty for me to guess where it goes next. when I started writing about and selling other people on the 6167 story over the summer, there were supposed to be two whole seasons left, this one and the next one — I never expected that such a plethora of injuries to him and to Mark would basically just send this season up in smoke entirely and write it off as a loss (save for like, the month of December).

basically, you just really oughta know that while I might write it like there is sometimes, there is currently no guaranteed or assumed happily-ever-after for the 6167 story. right now I act on the assumption Max Pacioretty will be a Golden Knight the rest of his career bc the idea of anything else breaks my heart (he just seems so happy there… found family… wah…). but we don’t actually know what‘s gonna happen, and given my history of jinxing the hell outta things by getting invested in them (see also: this VGK season), I just feel like if you’re coming along with me on this ride you should know all of this upfront.

now you can’t say I didn’t warn you if this story turns into a sad one. let’s just cross our fingers it doesn’t I guess.

[ickle-ronniekins]

silent confessions

request from nonnie! “Hey erica! I have a request for you, it's a bit challenging i think but I'm sure you'll do perfectly. Imagine like, the fake dating trope with fred, BUT at the end it's a george x reader? Like, imagine george feeling uncomfortable and jealous seeing the reader and fred acting like a couple even though he knows its not real and stuff anyway im obsessed with your writing love you bye”

pairing: fred x reader, george x reader

word count: 3.8k

A/N: wait, i loved this request. so different from the normal fake dating tropes! i hope this lived up to expectations.. idk why i just feel like my writing sort of sucks in this?? wah, idk, sad, feedback pls? also we’ve got some POV changes in this but they’re pointed out ayyyee, thanks for enduring the fluffiest fluff ever bc that’s all i have to give you hooligans

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan

You

You could practically hear the smirk that grew on his face — he wasn’t exactly being subtle. He took his place next to you in the Great Hall, ignored the fact that you were removing spellbooks and quills from your bag to begin your work, and didn’t bother to heed Snape’s warning glance.

“Hey, Y/N?”

Fred’s voice was a little too sweet for your liking; sweet as sugar, in fact. You knew this voice. It’s the voice he always put on whenever he needed a favor — whenever he wanted something from you. You didn’t look up from the table.

“Whatever it is, I think I’m going to pass.”

He scoffed and closed your spellbook. You grunted in annoyance; you were positive he wasn’t going down without a fight, but you supposed you still needed to try, even though you knew in your heart that this was a fight you wouldn’t win. You turned toward him and he batted his eyelashes at you.

“Dear, dear Y/N — you won’t pass when I tell you what’s in it for you.”

“What type of chaotic mischief that you have planned could possibly be beneficial to me?”

He digested this; you were right, and he knew it. He just shrugged, though, took in your rejection and tried to use it to his advantage.

He nodded across to the other end of the Gryffindor table; there sat Angelina Johnson — fellow Gryffindor, member of the DA, Quidditch captain and, to your most recent knowledge, Fred Weasley’s crush. Again. Boy was crazy about her.

“Thought we already tried this, Freddie?” you sighed, stealing your spellbook back from his very tight grasp and opening it to your desired page. He huffed a bit, and you were quite sure he was remembering the disaster that was the Yule Ball, just a year ago.

You noticed a small grin lift his cheeks; he looked rather smug now, which made you worried. What was it, exactly, that he had planned? “I know last year didn’t go exactly as I’d hoped.” Right. Fred had gotten a little too sloppy on his date with Angelina. She’d been a bit turned off. The night ended and she never pursued anything else; he was so embarrassed, neither did he. Fred Weasley? Embarrassed? The word wasn’t even in his day to day vernacular. But boy, was he shook.

“But it was a long time ago — besides, she’s been sending me all types of signals.”

“I don’t think her eye rolls mean she fancies you, Fred.”

He jabbed you playfully in the ribs. “Don’t be rude, Y/N. I know she fancies me. I just know it. You don’t go on just one date with Fred Weasley.”

You scoffed at his air of egotistical confidence; you shut your eyes at the prospect of him maybe going to someone else for help. Much to your dismay, it didn’t happen. He just stayed where he was, resting his chin on his hand, peering at you longingly as if his staring alone would convince you to say yes to whatever he had up his sleeve. After a few minutes, you said, “If I agree to help you, you prat, will you leave me alone?”

“Can’t say leaving you alone would exactly work with what I’ve got planned,” he replied, relaxing now, tapping his foot underneath the table and not taking his eyes off of Angelina. “I need you to pretend to date me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Relax, Y/N, I’m not going to pin you against the wall and snog you, if that’s what you’re so worried about,” he laughed, running a hand through his hair. You felt as though your throat was closing up at the mere thought of it. “Just some hand holding, things of the like. Need to make her jealous. Need to make her realize what she’s missing.”

You groaned in frustration. “Can I take back what I said?”

“Nope,” he answered brightly. “You can’t. Thanks for coming along for the ride. Don’t get in too deep, though. No falling in love with me, alright?”

You felt a pang in your chest; you weren’t in love with him and you never would be. He was your best friend and nothing would change that. You knew it and so did he. You felt worried, though. What would others think? What if Angelina did get jealous — but in a bad way? Or worse — what would George say?

His was the only opinion that mattered to you, truthfully.

So that’s how you came to be Fred Weasley’s “girlfriend”, and when you both finally told George what Fred had strategically planned, you were relieved and also a bit upset at how nonchalant he seemed; a small grin tugged at the edges of his lips which sent you into a tizzy. You tried your very hardest to hide your disappointment; you didn’t want to let on how absolutely mad you were for him. So, you supposed, when you thought about this ridiculous stunt one night in your four poster, fake dating Fred would certainly squash any and all suspicions George had (if he did) about you fancying him.

“How’s my favorite couple?” he’d asked teasingly one day in the middle of the common room, sinking into the couch on the other side of you. Angelina then popped in through the portrait hole, and Fred placed his hand on your knee, stroking it absentmindedly. You felt a dull ache in your heart when you saw George’s eyes dart toward Fred’s hand.

Angelina had done the exact same thing; you were able to see a very faint shade of pink flush her cheeks before she stormed upstairs to her dormitory without a word to any of you. Fred immediately dropped his hand and you felt your muscles relax, but not without a quick squeeze to your knee and a cheeky grin. “Brilliant, Y/N,” he said, earning himself a dull grunt from you. Not that you’d done much, or anything, for that matter. But still, your heart felt sore at the thought: you wanted, more than anything, for George to reach over and gently graze your knee, pull you into him, kiss your temple as Fred had been doing the last few weeks.

The dull ache in your heart just seemed to grow stronger.

George

“Help me!”

You frowned. “I’m already in the middle of the other favor your lovely brother asked me to do,” you told him with a slight twinge of annoyance to your voice; however, it wasn’t difficult for him to detect a bit of cheekiness, too — especially when he saw the slight grin that spread itself across your lips.

“I just need some help with this stupid Potions essay.”

George noticed you soften at his request; he supposed it wasn’t as time-consuming as pretending to be someone’s girlfriend, and was rather elated when you agreed. You pulled out your desired books from the shelves in front of you and pointed at an empty table in one of the rows. “Let’s get started then, Georgie.”

But the truth was, he didn’t really need help. He was actually doing surprisingly well in Potions, for the first time since he began at Hogwarts. He didn’t want to let it get to his head, though. He figured there wasn’t anything wrong with getting some extra assistance.

It wasn’t assistance that he yearned for, though — it was you. More importantly, time spent with you. Any time — which he found himself getting hardly any now that you were “dating” his brother. He was first impressed at the idea that you’d decided to help Fred with his ridiculous request, and spent most of the time hanging around you teasing you and taunting you mercilessly for it, earning himself adorable laughs and flustered looks in return. But now, as he watched Fred press featherlight kisses to your temple and snake his arm around your waist at every given moment, all he felt was resentment. Jealousy. Hurt.

He felt himself feeling guilty; he shouldn’t be allowed to feel any of those things, because Fred didn’t know. Nobody knew. Nobody knew how he felt about you. Also, this whole stupid thing was just a ploy, anyway. So he suppressed those feelings everyday until he ended up alone in his dorm room, where he’d kick his trunk and scream into a muffled pillow while he let his brain unwind and digest the day's events.

“Ah — work here is finished,” he said after a few hours in the library. Much needed hours, in fact. He watched as you slowly placed your spellbooks back into your bag. “Thanks for your help.”

And in between those bouts of jealousy and resentment came moments of clarity, moments of affection, overwhelming feelings of admiration toward you. “For you?” you started, a gentle smile on your lips as you placed a hand to his knee, “Anything.”

You

You woke up before the sun and groaned; it was Saturday. Four Saturdays, in fact, since Fred had asked you to embark on this silly endeavor with him. Three Saturdays since you’d begun wondering when this would finally be over. Two Saturdays since Fred had told you sooner rather than later. One Saturday since George had noticeably become off balance.

You felt a pull at your heart when you popped through the portrait hole with Fred and Ginny later that evening after a much needed trip into Hogsmeade; you chewed nervously on the sugar quill you’d purchased as you placed yourself next to the roaring fire, Fred taking a seat next to you on the couch when Ginny made her way to the girls dormitory.

You didn’t know where George was; he hadn’t come to Hogsmeade. Or maybe he did, and he’d just very successfully avoided you both as you ended up, hand-in-hand, wherever Angelina was. With the exception of a few measly youngins on the other end of the common room, you and Fred were alone.

“Freddie?”

“Hm?”

“I really need to talk with you.”

He looked up from his copy of the Daily Prophet he had clutched in his hands. He furrowed his brow and placed the paper on the table in front of him, criss-crossing his legs and peering at you longingly. Then he turned cheeky and wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Must be important,”

You cleared your throat and felt your heart thundering against your ribcage.

You opened your mouth to speak and closed it just the same. You didn’t really know how to ask what you wanted to — to tell him what you wanted to. So instead, you opted for, “How much longer d’you think this is going to last?”

“I dunno — a few days, or so. Why?” He raised his eyebrows. “Sick of me already?”

“Ha-ha,” you replied sarcastically, jabbing him in the chest. “I just — I’m a bit worried —” you broke off and let your mind wander for a moment. You thought about truthfully telling Fred how you felt. Guilty. Upset. Lonely. In love with someone who didn’t seem to notice. Worried he’d find someone else. “I just hope Angelina isn’t getting the wrong idea.”

Fred digested this. “How d’you mean?”

“Well, you want her to run to you in a fit of jealous fury, right?” he nodded curtly, taking this in. “I just hope she doesn’t see us together and instead, turns the other cheek. Looks the other way. Finds somebody else. You know?” But it wasn’t Angelina you were worried about.

Fred thought about this for a moment. You watched as his cheeky expression turned rather stoic, and then a bit grim. “I never thought of it that way.”

Suddenly, you felt extremely worried. You started, “No, no, you know what? I’m being silly — she wouldn’t, because she’s absolutely mad for you, too. Just forget I said anything, okay? I reckon she’ll be round to snatch you right out of my hands this week.” You laughed, but it felt foreign in your mouth. Fred noticed.

“Y/N,” his voice suddenly sounded a lot less like his own — more concerned. “What’s going on?”

Just then, George popped through the portrait hole with Ron, Harry, and Neville. You met his gaze and let it linger for a few long moments. He then smiled brightly, as if he hadn’t been acting strange this entire past week. With a quick wave to you both, ignoring Fred’s motion to come and sit down, he made his way straight up to the boys dormitory. Fred shot you a glance, and you answered his previous question.

“Nothing, Fred,” you sighed, silencing him before he could ask you if you knew what was up with his twin. You hated how painfully true your next words were. “There’s absolutely nothing going on.”

George

George was outside in the courtyard with Ron, Harry, and Ginny. He’d been doing his best to avoid you and Fred at all costs, which was pretty hard when you were his best friend and Fred was his twin. But he tried.

He found himself growing incredibly uncomfortable around you both; the sheer sight of Fred slinging an arm around your waist, intertwining his fingers with yours, calling you his “love” — it sent George spiraling. He didn’t want Fred doing those things. In fact, he didn’t want anyone doing those things. Only him. He wanted you to be his love.

“Georgie?”

You took him by surprise in the courtyard; the others were immersed in a conversation about bets, or something. He, though, was peering up at you, doing his very best to not look as bloody nervous as he felt.

“Can we talk?”

You didn’t give him a chance to answer; you pulled him to his feet and immediately brought him back into the castle. You found an empty classroom and sat yourself down on a desk across from him. He had to resist the urge to spill his guts, tell you everything, grab your face in his hands and confess his unwavering love for you.

So instead, he opted for a generic, “What’s up?”

“I’m not sure..” you started timidly. He could see the shyness in your eyes and he didn’t like it one bit. You? Shy around him? You’d never been. He hated that this is where it had gotten too. “Are you mad at me?”

He was very much taken aback at your forward question; way to cushion the blow. He swallowed a few times, trying very desperately to dislodge the lump that appeared in his throat and hoped to Merlin that he could fool you. “Mad? Of course not. Why would I be?”

You crossed your arms, now looking a bit angered. George felt his insides constrict. “We haven’t spoken in days.”

“I’ve just — been busy,” George lied. His jaw tightened. “Assignments, and things. Detention. You know,” he winked, trying to lighten the mood, “the usual.”

You smiled back, though it was a broken sort of smile. Lonely. It took everything in him not to lean over and kiss it right off of your mouth. “Are you sure? You’d tell me if anything was wrong, right?” He swore he heard more than yearning in your voice; he scolded himself silently for being dishonest. Was your voice breaking? “You’re my best friend.”

Inside his pockets, he clenched his fists. He was going to go for it. Who cared about Angelina? Fred could get her without this ridiculous bloody stunt of his. And George needed to tell you before you fell for his twin, for real, and the both of you ended up heartbroken. He stepped forward, but before he could do or say anything, you slung your arms around his shoulders and squeezed him tight. He felt revitalized at your embrace, like he was reentering his body after having been off balance for months. His fingertips found your hips and he focused solely on the smell of your shampoo, the feeling of your body pressed tightly against him. When you both parted, he took your hands in his. He wet his lips and took a steady deep breath. “Honestly?”

“Darling!”

Fred’s voice, much to George’s dismay, came from the classroom door. Damnit. How had he found you both? The door was closed! Frustration, anger, and gloom raced through George’s body; he was about two bloody seconds away from decking his brother for interrupting. But he couldn’t. Of course he couldn’t. Fred didn’t know. George sighed through gritted teeth, let your hands fall out of his, and backed away slowly.

“”C’mon, love, we’ve got dinner,” Fred called, sounding much happier than George would’ve liked. To him, Fred said, “you coming, mate?”

“Be there in a minute, Freddie.”

Fred grinned brightly and left you both standing in the middle of the classroom, the tension still hanging in the air. You turned back from the door, a solemn sort of look on your face, and asked him, “What were you going to say?”

“Oh,” George’s voice got caught in his throat, “just — been a little stressed. Knackered from class more often than not. Reckon I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

You frowned. He knew that you were aware not to press on; that was all the information he was going to give. You took a deep breath. “As long as we’re okay?”

“Of course we are.”

“Okay,” you said. You grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I’m famished. Let’s go eat.”

You

“Did I do something wrong?”

Fred was standing across from you in the common room, arms crossed, shoulders back, and a smirk growing on his face. He laughed at your nervousness. He’d just told you that things were over between you both. You’d asked, of course, just to be courteous. But you were actually pretty bloody excited. “Of course not, Y/N. You’ve done quite the opposite, actually.”

“Meaning?”

Fred walked over to you and placed his hands on both of your shoulders. He wet his lips before a huge, cheeky grin swept itself across his face. He squeezed you. “Angelina cornered me this morning.”

You raised your eyebrows. You were suddenly feeling much more invigorated. You grabbed his face out of pure excitement and shook him. “And? Keep bloody on, would you?!”

He threw his head back and laughed haughtily now. “Haven’t seen you this excited since before we began this,”

“Sorry,” you calmed down and frowned a bit. “Reckon I haven’t been the greatest “girlfriend”...”

A soft smile found its way across Fred’s cheeks. You furrowed your brows in confusion, hoping that he was going to tell you that he and Angelina were finally, wonderfully, officially together, which meant that you and Fred didn’t need to be. But he caught you completely off guard and said, “Don’t blame yourself too much. I reckon it’d be difficult to pretend to date me, especially when you’re in love with someone else.”

You were certain that your heart had jumped directly into your throat; your entire body went rigid at his words. He knew? Who else knew? Did George? Did everyone?  “I don’t.. know what you’re on about, Freddie.”

“Merlin, you are being thick today,” he teased, pulling at your hair and shaking his head. “C’mon. You think I didn’t notice? Each time I’d drop your hand, or unwind my arm from your waist, I saw you steal glances at him.” Fred leaned in to get closer to you and you noticed a light shade of pink wash over his cheeks. Had you been silently confessing your love for George this entire time? “He was stealing them right back, you know.”

You swallowed thickly. Did Fred know more than he was letting on? Where was George? “He was?”

“He’s in the Great Hall.” It was evident to you that Angelina was watching from the other end of the common room, and she was smiling brightly. No doubt, Fred had told her everything. You turned back toward Fred and grinned nervously. He took your hands in his and squeezed them. He simply said, “Go get him already, would you?”

And as quickly as your feet could carry you, you ran swiftly down the staircases, through the corridors, into the Great Hall and all the way to the front, where George was sitting, pouring over a bit of parchment, looking positively ghastly. Adrenaline was coursing through your veins like fire; your cheeks felt hot and flushed and each and every muscle in your body ached from running so bloody fast. “Ah,” he said brightly at the sight of you. “Come here to help me, have you? This assignment is a right load —”

You cut him off, ignored this completely and pulled him to his feet; he peered down at you with a confused expression and opened his mouth to speak, but you cupped his face in your hands, pulled him forward, and kissed him. The muffled moan that escaped his lips gave you your answer — he was certainly shocked. However, it didn’t take him long to melt into it; he was kissing you as though he’d never kissed anyone in his life, like the pure feeling of your lips moulding together with his was the very oxygen pumping through his lungs at that very moment. His hands were tangled in your robes, but he eventually found himself stroking your spine delicately with his fingers, earning himself slight whines from you as he laughed cheekily against your lips. From behind you somewhere, someone said, “Hey Y/N, you do know that’s the wrong twin you’re snogging, right?”

“Oi, shove off, Finnegan!” you called, parting from George only for a moment. “I know which twin it is!”

You turned back toward George and the two of you let out a bit of relieved laughter, limbs still entangled together. “I’ve got a confession to make,” he began, biting down on his bottom lip to keep himself from pouncing on you, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

“Yeah?” you asked, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

“Pretty difficult to do anything about it when you’ve been dating my brother the last month or so,”

“You’re right,” you told him, pulling a bit on his tie, “but I’m pretty sure he broke down and told Angelina everything.”

George raised his eyebrows at you in surprise. You continued, “Pretty sure he got sick of me being a mopey “girlfriend” because all I wanted to do was be with you instead.”

His sweet smile turned rather sensual. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, that’s so,” you told him straightforwardly, running your hands through his very messy red hair.

Somewhere in the distance, over the sea of people watching you both, Seamus Finnegan shouted, “Wait, has it always been George?”

George actually snorted a bit at this; then he bit down on his lip again, wiggled his eyebrows at you, and asked, “Well — has it?”

You didn’t break your gaze, though; instead, you let your eyes linger on George’s for much longer than you normally would. You were pretty sure that you could hear the steady thumping of his heart against his ribcage, and his eyes washing over you like a cool tide completely sent you into overdrive. Suddenly, you were feeling much more confident than normal. Perhaps it was the way he was looking at you. “Yeah,” you said to George, pressing your lips to his once more, “it’s always been you.”

reblogs, comments, feedback, and all of the above are always appreciated!

[saintqueer]

Hi Jordan! I know you mentioned you were going to one of the chicago shows and I’m getting kind of anxious/sad about their flag policy. I remember in 2018 security was taking away people’s flags at the United center but I was able to sneak mine in folded up in my bag - obvs they’re not allowing bags this year and they seem pretty clear about the no flag policy on their website. I was fully prepared to just shove mine into my pants lol but realized it might set off the metal detector. I know you probably don’t know anymore than I do I mostly just wanted to vent to someone bc we all know how much harry loves the flags and the thought of nobody having flags makes me so sad.

I was planning to shove mine underneath my dress!!! I forgot about the metal detectorsssss nooooooo. Fuck okay i might just cut off those little metal rings and still hide them under my dress. I cannot imagine not bringing a flag, i just can't do it.

also about the bag thing...i was planning on wearing my fanny pack/bum bag but like is that not okay? i need someplace to put my phone and my keys lmao. idk what to do i just know im annoyed as hell. especially about the flags... im gonna see what goes down on friday to see what i can get away with on saturday...pls report back if you hear anything else.

either way im still gonna try to sneak flags in even if they get confiscated

[kookiesjoonies]

all in | chapter nine.

all in | chapter nine: wake up call.

main pairing: jeon jungkook x park jimin

side ships: vmin (mentioned)

word count: 3.1k

warnings: language (lots of f bombs bc these two are a mess), so much angst, oral sex, deep throat, choking, jealousy, dom!jungkook, possessive!jungkook, some fluff

A/N: make sure that you’ve read chapter eight and the chapter eight add on before reading this! some of the things jungkook talks about are in those chapters, including the pictures he mentions. also if you’d like to hurt even worse while reading this chapter, i suggest listening to jimin and jungkook’s cover of we don’t talk anymore to get the full effect. 

*not my gif*

— SERIES SUMMARY

you aren’t usually one to give out your number to strangers (let alone customers), but after you start talking to Namjoon and getting to know him, you decide that there’s no way you’re going to let him leave without it. however, he fails to mention that he’s one of the most popular rappers in South Korea. and it just so happens that one of your best friends ends up with an extra ticket to one of his shows.

To say that Jimin was annoyed was an understatement. It was nine in the fucking morning, and he’d just been rudely awakened by the sound of aggressive thumping against his front door. He let out a long, frustrated groan and rolled himself out of his bed. He had no idea who would be brave enough to wake him up this early on a Saturday morning.

The knocking never ceased as he neared the door, and he was really getting aggravated now. Whoever this was, was relentless. And they obviously had a death wish.

“I’m fucking coming! Jeez.” Jimin called out before grabbing the handle of the door and swinging it open.

His look of anger had now been replaced by one of confusion as he stared up at his ex-boyfriend. It was then that he was sure he was dreaming. Jimin brought a hand up to rub the sleepiness from his eyes and expected Jungkook to be gone when he looked up again. However, he was wrong, and he was still very present.

Jimin was shocked, “Jungkook, what are you doing here? And why so early?”

Jungkook took a deep breath, and shook his head. But then he met Jimin’s eyes and began to speak, “I’m here because I’m pissed the fuck off at you.”

The look in Jungkook’s eyes wasn’t one that Jimin was familiar with, and he couldn’t quite figure it out.

Jimin scoffed, “What the fuck could I possibly have done? We don’t even speak unless it’s in the group chat.”

The taller man pushed his way through the entrance, and let out a long sigh. He ran both hands through his fluffed up locks before turning to face Jimin once again.

“Oh, please. Do come in.” Jimin said, tone laced with sarcasm.

He slammed the door shut behind him, fully awake now and standing in front of Jungkook, albeit a little too close.

“I asked you a question.” Jimin’s voice was firm. He’d crossed his arms over his chest now, searching Jungkook’s face for any sort of reason as to why he’d shown up here so angry.

“We spoke the other night, in person. At the concert.” Jungkook answered simply.

Jimin rolled his eyes. That wasn’t an answer.

“Talking to me in person is what pissed you off enough to make you show up at my house looking like you’re about to Hulk out?”

“No you fucking smartass. I’m pissed off because of what you did at the concert, and how it was so fucking disrespectful, but you didn’t care. Not that I’m shocked, you never fucking cared—“ Jimin raised a hand and cut him off before he could finish.

“Jungkook, what in the fuck are you talking about? When did I disrespect you?”

It’s as if Jungkook didn’t hear a word that he’d said. He just kept rambling, and the more he talked the closer he got to Jimin. So close now that Jimin could feel Jungkook’s breath against his nose.

“And not to mention the fucking pictures you posted. It’s not bad enough that I had to witness it in person, I have to see it whenever I open fucking Instagram or Twitter?!” He wasn’t quite yelling, but he was close.

And all of a sudden, something clicked. Jimin was getting heated now, and he rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time since this shit started.

“Are you seriously talking about the pictures I posted with Taehyung right now? Are you fucking kidding me?”

Jungkook made a noise that was similar to a growl, a low growl that seemed to only rile Jimin up more.

Jungkook mocked Jimin’s tone as he spoke, “Yes I seriously am talking about Taehyung right now. But it’s not just the fucking pictures, Jimin, God. It’s about how you were all fucking over him the other night backstage. With me sitting two feet away from you! You are so fucking disrespectful—“

Jimin cut him off again, only this time he did it by placing his finger over Jungkook’s mouth. And when he spoke again, he spoke through gritted teeth. The sound of his voice had lowered, barely above a whisper now, but still had a bite to it that made Jungkook’s breathing slow and sent chills running down his arms.

“Jungkook, I did not disrespect you. We are not together. I can flirt with whoever I want. And I can post pictures with whoever I want. I’m not yours anymore.”

Jungkook brought a hand up to swat Jimin’s away from his mouth, and he felt like he could spit in his face, “And whose fucking fault is that, Jimin?”

Jimin didn’t hesitate when he answered, “Yours. You’re the one who broke up with me.”

Jungkook laughed. He actually laughed, and didn’t stop. Jimin was sure he’d finally snapped.

“What the fuck is so funny?” Jimin asked, eyebrow raised as he watched Jungkook attempt to catch his breath.

“What’s fucking hilarious to me is that you think us breaking up was my fault. I might’ve broken up with you, but you’re the one that ended us.”

Jimin scowled and he took a step back from Jungkook. And maybe he took a step back because, subconsciously, he knew that Jungkook was right. It was his fault. But he’d never say that out loud.

Jungkook was quick to take a step forward as Jimin took his step back.

“Did you fuck him?”

Jungkook’s question caught Jimin off guard. He shook his head slightly and looked up at him, a look of utter confusion settling on his face.

“What?”

“I said,” Jungkook spat, “Did. You. Fuck. Him.”

Jimin took a step forward, closing what little space remained between them. Their chests were touching now, and they could both feel how quickly the other’s heart was beating. Foreheads almost touching, Jimin let out a cold laugh.

“Maybe. But what the fuck is it to you? Like I said before, I’m not yours anymore.”

That was it. Jungkook was done. He’d had more than enough of this shit.

Before Jimin could even process what was happening, he was being pushed up against his front door with a hand wrapped firmly around his throat.

Jungkook was towering over him, and Jimin was looking up at him with daring eyes. Neither of them moved, they barely breathed.

Until finally, Jungkook spoke words right into Jimin’s ear. So quietly that he had to strain to hear what he’d said.

“If you say that you aren’t mine one more fucking time, I’ll make you regret even thinking it.”

Jimin’s knees had started to shake, but he tried to act as if he was unaffected by Jungkook’s actions. He brought a hand up to wrap around Jungkook’s wrist as he tilted his head up to look him in the eye.

He knew what he was about to say next was going to push Jungkook so far over the edge. And that’s exactly what he was hoping for.

“Maybe I don’t fucking want to be yours anymore. Maybe I want to be Taehyung’s.”

Jungkook’s jaw visibly tightened, and Jimin gulped at the sight. Which resulted in the sides of his throat being squeezed, causing him to let out a moan he didn’t even know he was holding back.

Jungkook smirked at the sound, shaking his head, “You sure about that? Because from where I’m standing,” he let his free hand travel slowly down Jimin’s torso to the growing bulge in his sweatpants, “it sure as fuck seems like you want to be mine.”

Jimin shamelessly let out another moan, only this time more high pitched and drawn out.

“What?” Jungkook questioned, running his thumb along Jimin’s shaft through the fabric, “no more smartass remarks?”

Jimin gasped, and Jungkook’s fingers tightened around his throat once again, surely leaving behind bruises. Jimin was already losing his mind, and they hadn’t even done anything yet. It never failed to amaze him how easily Jungkook could make him fall apart, because nobody else had ever been able to.

“Would you just fuck me already?” Jimin hissed.

He tried to act all nonchalant, but Jungkook knew better.

“You’re such a fucking brat.”

Jungkook’s lips crashed onto Jimin’s for the first time in over a year and the feeling was absolutely fucking euphoric. They both let out a sigh as their lips moved, and if it hadn’t been for the hold that Jungkook had on him keeping him up, Jimin was sure he’d have fallen straight to the floor.

Jungkook’s tongue moved to lick across Jimin’s lower lip, and Jimin easily opened up his mouth for him. Jungkook’s tongue curled around Jimin’s in a way that drove both of them fucking crazy. Jimin let out a whimper, followed by Jungkook letting out a low chuckle. The vibrations of it going straight from Jimin’s lips to his dick.

Jimin pulled his head back and tried to catch his breath. Jungkook’s hands were now on either side of Jimin’s head, palms lying flat against the surface of the door.

“To answer your earlier question,” Jungkook started, “no I will not fuck you already.”

Jimin felt his blood start to boil again, and he opened his mouth to protest. Because how the /fuck/ could Jungkook do all of that, and not follow through? But before Jimin could even get a word out, Jungkook was speaking again.

“I am going to fuck you, just so were clear,” He pushed a strand of Jimin’s hair out of his eyes and took it between his index and middle fingers and twirled it around, “but you’re going to choke on my dick first.”

His voice was stern, and his eyes stayed fixated on Jimin as he took a step back and began to undo his belt. His zipper came next, and Jimin’s mouth was beginning to water. But he didn’t dare move. He knew from past experiences that when Jungkook wanted something from him, he’d tell him.

Jungkook pushed his jeans down and let them pool around his ankles, his underwear following closely behind. He stepped out of them, and took a slow step toward Jimin. Jungkook wiped the bit of drool that was forming on the corner of Jimin’s lip before tilting his chin up and forcing him to meet his eyes.

“If I ever hear you say that you aren’t mine or that you want to be someone else’s again, Jimin, so help me.”

“You won’t.” Jimin didn’t hesitate in answering.

Because truth be told, he didn’t want to be anyone else’s. Even though they’d been broken up for what felt like ages now, he was still Jungkook’s. He had always been Jungkook’s. And he always would be.

The corner of Jungkook’s lips turned up and into a smirk, “That’s what I thought. Now, get down on those knees and let me mess that pretty mouth of yours up.”

Jimin didn’t need to be told twice. He was down on his knees the second that Jungkook finished his sentence.

Jungkook’s cock was a dream, really. Not too long, and perfectly thick. Perfect pink tip with a well trimmed base, Jimin couldn’t help but to lick his lips as he inched his face closer. As much as he wanted to take his time with it, he knew there was no way in hell that Jungkook was going to let him do that. So he pressed his tongue to the tip and swirled around the precum that had gathered there.

Jungkook let out a long groan as he looked down at him and pushed a hand through Jimin’s hair to get it out of his face. When Jimin’s lips wrapped around the head, Jungkook sighed and pushed his hips forward, forcing Jimin to take in more of his length.

“That’s good, baby. Taking my cock so well. I bet you’ve missed having those perfect lips wrapped around me, huh?”

But truth be told, Jungkook was sure he’d missed having Jimin on his knees in front of him more.

Jimin hollowed out his cheeks and kept taking him down his throat until his nose hit the base of his dick. Jungkook was biting down on his lower lip so hard that he was sure it was going to bleed, and Jimin internally smirked to himself as he reached a hand up to pay attention to Jungkook’s neglected balls.

“Oh, fuck.”

Jungkook’s breathing was uneven now as he spoke and his eyes had rolled into the back of his head as Jimin began to quickly bob his head. Jungkook growled, opening his eyes to look down and admire the sight below him.

“God, you look so fucking perfect like this. Mouth swollen, drool falling down your chin. You’re a fucking dream, Park Jimin.”

Jimin hummed in response, which just sent a string of vibrations through Jungkook’s dick. Which, in turn, had the younger man seeing stars. He moved both of his hands into Jimin’s hair and held his face completely still.

“Look up at me.”

And Jimin did, through hooded eyes as he swallowed around Jungkook’s cock. Jungkook’s hips snapped forward at a brutal pace and hit the back of Jimin’s throat every time. Jimin placed his hands on the backs of Jungkook’s thighs and tried to keep himself steady. He was loving this. The way Jungkook’s cock seemed to fit perfectly in his mouth, the way Jungkook was holding onto his hair for dear life, and the sounds that were coming out of Jungkook’s mouth. The fucking sounds. It was music to his ears, his favorite fucking song.

He let him have his way with him. Jimin’s teeth lightly grazing against his dick every so often, making Jungkook hiss and moan all at the same time. His thrusts became erratic, and Jimin knew that meant he was close. And he also knew what would push him straight over the edge.

He reached a hand up to cover the part of his shaft that his mouth wasn’t reaching, and began to quickly pump up and down. At the same time, he was continuously moaning against Jungkook’s cock, which again, caused those dreamy vibrations that made Jungkook feel like he was floating.

“Jesus, fuck! Jimin, I’m—“ Before he could even finish the sentence to warn him, he was spilling his cum down Jimin’s throat.

And Jimin swallowed and sucked down every last drop of it like his life depended on it. Jungkook pounded out his orgasm in Jimin’s mouth before pulling his hips back, his breathing hard and uneven. Jimin pulled off of Jungkook’s dick with a pop sound, a series of coughs making their way past his lips as he tried to steady his breathing.

With one hand still in Jimin’s hair, Jungkook pulled him up off of the floor and immediately pressed their lips together.

He mumbled in between kisses, “So. Fucking. Good.”

As their mouths separated, it was Jimin’s turn to smirk.

“Since I was, ‘so fucking good,’ does that mean you’re finally going to fuck me?”

“Baby, I’m going to make you regret asking me that question.”

“Did you fuck him, though?” Jungkook couldn’t help himself. He had to know the answer.

Considering he had Jimin lying naked under the sheets beside of him, and the fact that Jungkook had just made him cum three times in a row, you’d think it wouldn’t bother him anymore. But it did.

Jimin cocked an eyebrow and rolled over on his side so that he could face him, “Is that really what you’re thinking about right now? After what we just did?”

Jungkook shrugged, a tired expression falling on his face, “Yeah.”

Jimin sighed as he sat up on the bed, bringing both of his hands up to rest on either side of Jungkook’s face. But Jungkook couldn’t look at him, afraid that if he did, he’d get the answer that he dreaded hearing most. So, instead, he kept his eyes fixed down toward his lap.

“Hey,” Jimin said softly, “look at me.”

“I’m scared to.”

“Kook, I didn’t fuck him.”

Jungkook let out a long sigh of relief, and finally lifted his head to look at Jimin, “Thank fucking God.”

“I haven’t been with anyone else since we broke up, actually.”

This honestly shocked Jungkook. He thought for sure Jimin would have been with at least a few people. He was undeniably attractive, and naturally an enormous flirt. People always wanted his attention.

“Neither have I.” Jungkook confessed.

“Then what the fuck are we doing, Kook? Why are we trying so hard to stay away from each other? When it’s so clear that we just want to be together.” Jimin questioned, and he had a sad look in his eyes that made Jungkook’s heart drop.

“I want to be with you, but—“

Jimin refused to let him finish that sentence. So instead, in an attempt to shut him up, he pressed his lips firmly against Jungkook’s. It was a sweet kiss that resulted in butterflies in both of their stomachs. Jungkook sighed against Jimin’s mouth and brought his hands up to wrap around his neck. He twirled the ends of Jimin’s hair around his fingers and Jimin kept a firm hold on Jungkook’s face. He thought that if he could just hold him there, and keep kissing him, Jungkook wouldn’t be able to reject him.

But Jungkook was the one who pulled away first, with Jimin’s lips chasing after him.

“Jimin,” Jungkook started, “I do want to be with you. But if that’s going to happen, then things have got to be different.”

Jimin’s response was immediate, “It will be. I swear. Look, I know I fucked up. And I know I took advantage of you, and I know I hurt you. I don’t ever want to be the reason that you’re upset ever again. So please believe me when I tell you that I am fucking determined to make you happy. From now until my last day on this Earth, Jungkook. I want you to be happy, and I want to be the reason that you are.”

Jungkook wanted to believe him, but there was just one more thing that he needed to hear Jimin say. And he wasn’t sure if he ever would.

As if he could hear what Jungkook was thinking, Jimin pleaded, “I’m sorry, Jungkook. For everything. Please believe me.”

Jungkook’s mouth turned up and into a wide smile, perfect white teeth fully on display. His nose was scrunched in the way that Jimin found unbelievably adorable, and he just wanted to kiss him again.

“I forgive you, Jimin.”

And so he did kiss him, but all over his face. Starting at his chin, then on both of his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, until finally landing a quick peck on his lips.

“So, does that mean we’re going to give this another shot?” Jimin asked, voice sounding hopeful.

Jungkook nodded, running his thumb over the top of Jimin’s cheek, “Yeah, we are.”

A/N: are you guys as happy that they made up as i am, because whew! never thought i’d see the day. hope you don’t mind me giving them their own little chapter, i had fun doing it. i’ve been thinking about posting a one shot separate from this series about their breakup and what happened. so with that said, tell me why you think they broke up! i’d love to hear your theories because i really left it open to interpretation. 

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series page.

A/N: if you’d like to be added to the tag list, just send me an ask, message, or reply to this post to let me know! thank you to those who have taken the time to check this series out, send me an ask/message and let me know what you think!

tag list: @bbyxknj @kimnjss @justpeachyjoon @w1tchcraftt @rjsmochii @tiddieshakeshownu @doilooklikeinoe​ @maryseesthings​ @nerdycookiemonster-1222​ 

[imbeccablee]

HAPPY BIRTH TO OUR LITTLE GREEN FERAL BOI-HC about how his birthday were when he was younger compared to now? (bonus points for Mama Inko being the only constant and for steadily more and more people being at his parties and deku having no idea how to deal with so many people who love him)

oh you KNOW I'm here for that Izuku angst!!! (sorry this is late, I didnt see this until yesterday night lmao)

before Izuku was diagnosed, he would invite katsuki and those other boys over after daycare. it would always be a little awkward bc technically those other boys are more katsuki's friends than Izuku's but their parents made them go anyway bc it was the nice thing to do

oftentimes the rest of the party would end up with the boys playing with Izuku's new toys (which made him a lil upset but his mom says he should share and not be selfish and besides, these are his friends, he wants them to like him, so its whatever. it is) and also playing Heroes (this is the one of the few times Izuku is allowed to play a hero with katsuki (bc theres no way in heck katsuki would play a villain) and Izuku LIVES for it)

usually the other boys will leave and katsuki will spend the night. this is always the best part for Izuku because, while katsuki does keep showing off, it's almost softer in a way, like the fact that it's just the two of them, alone, with the rest of the world shut out makes katsuki relax and unwind. izuku doesnt understand why katsuki isnt like this all the time. he doesnt know how to ask, either.

this of course ends with his fifth birthday. the months following his fourth, he eagerly awaits the arrival of his quirk, but it never shows. a week after his fifth birthday (which had been even more awkward and embarrassing since his quirk still hadn't manifested), he is diagnosed. and, well, nobody wanted to go to his party after that.

the kids thought he was weird and lame and the parents were afraid their own kids would hurt him somehow if they were to come over, because they all believed the quirkless to be weak and fragile. this of course also meant that none of the kids were allowed to invite him over to their parties, the only exception being katsuki's. and then katsuki fell off a log into a shallow river and izuku tried to help him up and, well.

he still invites people, oh yes. the first few years, he makes little invitation cards drawn in all might colors and an enthusiastic "you're invited!" on the front. inko, the sweetheart, helps put them in envelopes and carefully stored them in Izuku's backpack and Izuku passes them out. the first time no one shows, izuku is devastated. the second time, after yet another year of being downgraded and belittled and beaten and ignored, he is still devastated, but he is not surprised. the third time, it aches and aches and aches, and he decides he's not going to make cards anymore. it's just a waste of time and paper.

inko tried so very hard. those first few birthdays After were completely unsalvageable, but after the third (when Izuku accepted no one would come) they got better. izuku was still sad and inko was still guilty, but they always had a lovely time with katsudon and cake and all might specials. sometimes, his dad would even remember to call and wish him a happy birthday. izuku was- well, not happy, but content. he had his mother. he had his conviction, his dream. what else could he need?

(he steadfastly ignored the longing, the ache. nothing he could do would fix it so there was no point in dwelling on it. it was stupid to feel that way anyway. his birthday was just another day of the week, the month, the year. it didnt matter. he shouldnt feel so bad about it. it didnt matter)

he didn't even think about telling all might his birthday. by the time he was 14 going on 15, he didnt really care about it. it had just been a day he got a gift or two from his mother, his favorite dinner, and a night spent rewatching all might documentaries or movies or interviews. you know, like basically every night, but like, older this time. so he doesnt mention it and all might never brought it up, so his 15th birthday comes and goes like every other birthday did after his 8th.

the truth of the matter was all might figured Izuku would mention it at some point during his training, like offhandedly saying he had to get home early so he could have a celebration, or make small talk about what he'd gotten, or even ask for the day off. but Izuku never did and all might felt too awkward to ask when it was (he didnt want to seem too eager to shower young Izuku with presents like something deep inside him begged for with a vengeance, even though he very much wanted to give Izuku literally anything he asked for. it is a troubling feeling), so all might just assumed his birthday hadn't come up yet.

then all might finally gets a look at Izuku's file, since all might is now a teacher, and sees 07/15/XXXX written and probably breaks the speed of sound with how quickly he calls izuku

"why didnt you tell me about your birthday!!" "wh- I mean- it's just not that big of a deal, I didnt think it was-" "NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL???"

he takes Izuku out to a very belated and nice birthday dinner and has to force an incredibly rare piece of decommissioned all might merch from his early days into Izuku's hands. despite his embarrassment and initial reluctance, that day is ranked in the top ten of his favorite days.

izuku doesnt learn his lesson, however, and neglects to tell his newly acquired friends about his date of birth. the only reason they find out is because all might, having been passing them by at the end of the school day, wished him a happy birthday.

"IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY????" "uraraka please its not a big deal-" "I have to disagree midoriya, today should be special!" "I mean, I dont think birthdays are all that important either" "THANK YOU todoroki"

(and then Izuku thinks for 2 seconds WHY Todoroki thinks birthdays are unimportant and gets sad again but we're not focusing on that rn)

ochako DEMANDS that they celebrate bc theres no way in hell she's allowing her best friend to go without a birthday celebration with friends, but Izuku insists that they at least wait until summer vacation starts in less than a week, especially since he cant just come home with three friends without telling his mom

ochakos like >:( for a second, but concedes bc that's fair and then she launches herself at Izuku and gives him a big ole hug and says "happy birthday!!!" izuku's all sputtering and blushing, and then he feels a hand on either arm and Iida and Todoroki give him warm smiles and wish the same and it takes a good five minutes for his face to calm down and for him to come out from behind his arms once Ochako releases him.

so he tells his mom that his friends want to come over to celebrate soon and inko is just like 😭😭😭😭😭 because FINALLY her boy has GOOD FRIENDS who want to CELEBRATE HIM and Izuku freaks out cuz his mom is crying but she waves him off and tells him to tell the dekusquad that they can come over on saturday and that they can spend the night and that they'll have a wonderful time!!!

izuku relays two-thirds of that information in their group chat and they all agree and then basically Izuku is dreading the weekend bc the few birthday parties he's had with his "friends" before hadn't been all that great (besides the sleepover part with katsuki, though their current animosity kinda makes the memories bittersweet), and like, while he knows objectively Ochako, iida, and Todoroki are Much Better than those boys from his childhood, he just doesnt have a good frame of reference for how these things go.

anyway, so Saturday comes around and Izuku is just listlessly lazing around while his mother finishes cooking ("let me help you mom-" "nuh uh, this is for YOUR celebration mister, you arent doing a THING today), and then theres an enthusiastic knock on his door, and when he goes and opens it his friends greet him with yet another cheer of "happy birthday deku/midoriya!!"

izuku smiles because its sweet even if he doesnt particularly care about birthdays, and invites them in. they set their presents on the table and Izuku's like "you didnt have to!!" and Ochako's like "NONSENSE" and Iida is like "how could we show up at your birthday celebration without presents???" and todoroki's like "any chance to spend endeavour's money on things he wouldnt like is a chance I will never not take" and Izuku is just like akdjajdhajsb when his mom finally comes and greets them

and like. it's nice. it's really really REALLY freaking nice. Izuku didnt realize how much he was actually missing having people with him in his home besides his mom until they were there. there's a wonderful warmth filling his chest as they all eat his mother's homemade katsudon and talk about school and how excited they are for the upcoming summer trip. and when heroes come up, they ask him about different quirks and how they work and what he thinks of this hero and that hero and the only time he's interrupted from his tangents is when he stops himself because he's embarrassed for talking for so long. and then they smile and prompt him some more, saying they love hearing him talk about the stuff that interests him, and can anyone really blame him for bursting into tears?

his friends are alarmed but his mom just smiles, tearing up herself, and she asks if he'd like a big hug, and he nods, face burning bright, and then they all gather him in a warm, enveloping embrace, and he wonders how in the hell he survived without this for so long?

he's so warm and loved and for the first time in forever he feels happy during his birthday celebration.

his 16th birthday party is so incredibly different from the parties he held before he was diagnosed and from the birthdays he spent with only his mother. he'd forgotten that feeling of being cared for by people who didnt need to, or rather he'd never really known it. there's a slight twinge that it took so long for him to learn this feeling, but it's completely overshadowed by the pure elation he feels at finally being able to breathe and relax and let himself be loved.

his friends still look concerned and they obviously have questions, but they dont pry as they all continue with the party. he opens their presents and cries again and then they watch a ton of hero movies and he cries a little more. iida worries he'll dehydrate himself and Ochako fuckin loses it and Todoroki has such a soft look on his face and GOD how has Izuku lived without friends? without THEM?

it's late when they turn in, with futons and mountains of pillows and blankets surrounding them on the living room floor. izuku is nestled between Ochako and Todoroki, and he stares at the ceiling as his friends doze around him. he can feel his heart beating in his chest and, with amusement, he feels his eyes watering again, but he blinks the tears away and whispers thickly, "hey guys?" once he gets sleepy questioning murmurs, he breathes in deeply and says, "thank you." in response Ochako and Todoroki schooch closer until they're cuddled on either arm and Izuku can see Iida doing the same on the other end of ochako. then Ochako mumbles, "anything for you, deku" to which the other two boys agree. and Izuku tries to not get choked up and fails again, but its okay, because its safe here and his friends are surrounding him with warmth and love and Izuku falls asleep happy.

(their second year they have another party, of course, but this one is bigger, with the whole class. it's in the dorm, which is fine bc he doesnt think his mom's apartment could hold all of them. it's just as wonderful as his 16th birthday. he managed to hold his tears back during nearly the entire thing, and the only reason he broke was because katsuki came up to him with a perfectly wrapped box, because everything katsuki does is perfect, and shoved it into his hands with a growled well wishes. katsuki yells at him and the class laughs good heartedly as he weeps, but Izuku is just focused on katsuki, who looks soft and relaxed and nearly identical to the version of him that Izuku saw so, so long ago. and as Izuku thanks him for the present and katsuki berates him cuz "you dont even know what it is yet you idiot open it already", izuku feels a new happiness bubbling up in him, because he's so incredibly glad katsuki has been able to heal as well)

[etaerealjin]

scrunchies & hoodies || p.jm

genre: fluff, romance

pairing: jimin x reader

background: fake relationship, highschool!au, to all the boys i've loved before theme, fluff!au.

word count: 1.5k

When you found out that your boyfriend cheated on you and told you that you were way out of his league and that you were too boring, you knew what you needed and wanted to do right away. Plus, the fact that he told you no one's gonna wanna be with you really hurt your ego so all you wanted to do was to slap him with the fact that he's not the only fish in the sea.

But, who? Who else besides him?

As you were running that day on the field, overthinking about the words thrown at you by your ex-boyfriend, you saw Park Jimin getting dumped by his supposedly ex-girlfriend by now.

At first you couldn't believe it. I mean, literally anyone in the school would kneel just to be friends with Jimin. Girls and gays would drool over him and his other friends during lunch time, and he seemed nice and friendly. A bit intimidating though because he's part of the jocks on your school but on top of all of that, he seemed really boyfriend.

"How rough was the break-up that you can't even go to the cafeteria because she'd be there?" You asked him when you found him alone in the rooftop, drinking some kind of strawberry milk.

That day was also the day you started going out, no– not really going out, dating Jimin.

It's a win-win situation. He wanted to get his girl back, and you wanted to prove your ex-boyfriend wrong. After that, when Eunji regrets dumping Jimin, and your ex admits that he regrets saying what he did, it's over. And you both agreed on that.

At that time, you didn't really care about falling for your sidekick because you were sure that you weren't, all you wanted was to slap your cheater ex-boyfriend and make him look like a fool for those words. It was childish, really. But that's what you both agreed on, nothing more, nothing less.

And so you both set rules for each other.

"And please, I know it's not a big deal for you, but it is for me. Less Kissing." You said and typed it down your notes. But as soon as you said that, you felt his plum lips on yours.

"Are you dumb? Didn't I–"

"Your ex was looking, don't turn around. Just smile." He whispered after leaning dangerously close to your ear.

No one was looking, though.

You've also went to several parties with him, which wasn't you at all. You only went to parties with Jimin knowing Eunji and your ex would be there, but you had to admit that those little hangouts with Jimin, and those deep talks after parties inside his car – it was really something. It made you realize that Park Jimin wasn't so bad after all. He was a good friend.

You looked at the ice cream in front of you before grabbing it. "You were craving, right?" He asked.

"Yeah, thanks. Really thoughtful, knowing your ex is looking." You both giggled after that but he shook his head and sat beside you. "Oh, this is good. Want some?"

He looked at the cone you were handing him over then looked at you. He moved your hand away and kissed your lips, which probably tasted like strawberry ice cream.

He made an impressed look and nodded. "I think I like strawberry way more now." And you swore that after he did that, a blush was very visible on your cheeks.

"You're making this whole fake relationship thing easier for them to believe, you know?"

"What's wrong with that?"

Yeah, what's wrong with that? You can just end up with each other.

"Not gonna happen." You said but snapped out of your thoughts as soon as he gave you a confused look. "I mean–"

"Yeah, I kinda know what you're thinking." He said and you noticed his little side smile. He stood up, lending a hand towards you. "I'm taking you home."

"What?"

"I'm taking you to your house, the fuck? What you high on?" He asked and grabbed your hand, tagging you along with him. You both agreed to not be sweet when nobody's looking, and you swore that by the time you were holding hands, everyone else in the field already left. You wanted to take your hand back but it felt, I don't know, right?

Having Park Jimin in a black hoodie and ripped jeans, with his backpack hung on one shoulder, his forehead showing, he looked really fucking attractive and boyfriend material, and it felt so right.

"Bro, you're a simp. I thought it was fake?" Taehyung, another attractive and hot as hell friend of Jimin, asked when they were alone inside the shower room. Jimin took a sharp breath and closed his gym bag.

"Tae, is it bad that I don't want this to be fake anymore?"

"Totally not. You two really made everyone believe that you were really together, it all looks real!" Jimin chuckled and left the room, but they both stopped when someone was already in front of the door.

"Guess Taehyung's voice is not just deep, huh? You can be loud whenever your voice wants to." Eunji said and patted Taehyung's chest. "Thank you, though. If it wasn't for you and your chitchats then I wouldn't know that Jimin here is just faking everything with Y/n."

Jimin bit the insides of his cheek and looked down, not really knowing what to feel. "Tryna make me jealous, Park?" He rolled his eyes, not wanting to say "yes" even though that was part of the plan.

"It's working." Eunji said before grabbing Jimin's collar and you know – kissing him, as cliché as it can get.

"Jimin," Taehyung said and forcefully pulled him away from Eunji, who was also forcefully kissing him. He lowkey pointed at where you were standing and Jimin looked at you, but the wrong move he did was he didn't do anything at all.

You gave him a thumbs up and a wide smile after that, from a distance, and jogged away when you realized that – they were probably back together. It was over, and all you needed to do was for him to bring your scrunchies back and for you to bring his hoodies back.

You were asking for another confirmation, and as you were walking home, you received one. A message from your ex. Which you totally forgot about after all this time being with Jimin.

I'm sorry for the words I said. Maybe I'm a dick after all, and you changed. For the best, because you were already better back then. You deserve each other. Just know that I'm deeply regretting that I hurt an innocent one.

You smiled at that note.

But it was a Saturday, and you were fucking lonely. All the Saturdays you had with Jimin were all fun and exciting, but today was different. It's been a week after you saw Jimin, Taehyung and Eunji in front of the shower room, and a week after you two supposedly broke up the whole fake relationship.

You decided to bring five of his hoodies with you as you walked to the rooftop where this whole fake relationship started.

Little did you know that he brought your scrunchies as well.

"Hi!" You forced a giggle and simply handed him his hoodies over. You noticed that he was wearing just a white shirt on, probably because he already ran out of hoodies. Or some may be with Eunji now, who knows?

"I guess we'll have to break up?" You forced a laugh once again and a smile after saying that, but he didn't answer. He just grabbed your wrist and made you wear five of your scrunchies. You chuckled upon having them back but stopped when you realized that this was it.

Being sad over this departure was certainly not part of the plan, and you surely didn't stick to it when you realized that you could no longer fake anymore smiles because you were that sad.

It made you even more devastated when he hugged you.

"Do you like me?" He asked while hugging you, which caught you off guard so you pulled away from him, giving him a confused expression. He looked down and chuckled. "Again, do you like me?"

"What–"

"I didn't kiss Eunji back that afternoon. I stood there not knowing what to do when I saw you because that day, I realized what I was really feeling for you and I didn't wanna admit it to myself that quick." He said and looked through your eyes. "And I'm still afraid – that's why I'm asking you this once and for all, Y/n."

He paused for a bit, mustering up all the courage he had, then caressed your face and pecked your lips. "Do you like me now?"

You remained silent, not really taking in what was happening but one thing's for sure.

You already fell. Hard.

"Because I do, Y/n. Harder than you can ever imagine."

oKAY this may be cringe??? for some 🤮 but i'm feeling all soft rn bc boyfriend pjm & i just finished watching to all the boys for like the 10th time ok bye ily :(

[yyxgin]

i think what bugged me the most is i could say ‘they’re literal depression pills/they made me depressed’ and could reel off the side effect word for word (1/10 will experience mood swings (sometimes in the form of depression)) which was literally the first fricking side effect listed and the most common and she would still refer to it as me being sad literally seconds later in a convo. okay i never went to the doctor but when it occurred to me that, hey, something isn’t right, we were in the middle of a fucking pandemic!! i mean, we still are, but you get the point. this was right at the beginning when they basically closed everything as well so even if i wanted to i wouldn’t have been able to go see someone about it. but it’s whatever now, i don’t take them and i don’t have to give her any advice about them ✌️ i completely get the lack of validity about your emotions. that’s exactly how i felt.

i work so im not bothered about seeing people as i see them enough by my standards already but there is a helpful little voice in the back of my head reminding me that i still need to see my friends!! from before i got a job lol. i worked like 55 hours? my first proper week when i wasn’t on reduced hours and now i work maybe 30? which annoys me so i’m gonna ask for more bc i wanna buy a car and insurance. you still go to school, right? i feel like you’re more stressed about work considering you’re studying too. or were. have you just broken up from school? i don’t study, thank fuck, anymore, so i can do full time but i always get put on evenings so i’m thinking of getting a 9 to 5 bc then i can get the money i need.

a woman was rude to me bc her takeaway wasn’t ready bang on the clock when she turned up to pick it up. man it took literally every fibre in my being not to tell her to fucking leave me alone bc i’m a waitress?? what does she expect me to do??? i found out after but apparently our website tells you to allow a 15 minute slot when you order takeaway to pick up. i checked on this woman’s takeaway and told her it’d be ready in 10 minutes and she said sumn along the lines of ‘so 10 past 8?’. imma tell you straight i wasn’t looking at my phone so i assumed that meant the time was 8pm! (it wasn’t) she said to me ‘and i assume you’ll be knocking money off of the bill for that?’ and i politely replied ‘i can’t do that.’ bc i literally cannot. has to be a managerial figure. bearing in mind she’s already paid in full online???????? n she replies ‘do you wanna go suggest that?’ and nods towards the kitchen and i said no and walked off. the AUDACITY??? anyway i told my manager and she rolled her eyes and was like we don’t do partial refunds and said she’d talk to the woman when her order was ready. this woman was all up in my face saying ‘do you think that’s a reasonable time?’ asking if she should come back at 8:10 and im like idfk?? i have things to be doing can you fuck off?? no i didn’t say that but she says ‘i’ve got kids in the car with the engine running’ and i deadpanned ‘i didn’t tell you to leave your kids in the car with the engine running’ bc it was the first thing my brain thought of that wasn’t ‘sounds like a you problem to me’. in the end she left and came back but when she came back she was properly shouting at another waitress i work with and the girl was like 😄 your food was ready 20 minutes ago but you didn’t leave your details to be able to ring you to tell you it’s ready. she even re-mentioned the kids in the car saying they were starving and it was all our fault and the girl was like hmm okay. and then the woman said she was gonna leave a bad review on trip advisor!! and the waitress was like 😃 you do that bestie!! another great day on the grind :D (i forgot to say we were swamped on saturday so that’s why everything was so busy but she was literally the only one complaining that bad, like literally everyone could see we were struggling but they also were saying to wait staff things like ‘i know you can’t make things go quicker back there’ while we were apologising for the phat delay on their food).

another funny one (that made the barman laugh when i told it to him) was a grandma and a grandson in my section. the grandma was dictating his life jesus 😭 (not important but made me go 😳) but one of the girls cleared the table partially when i was doing sumn else so i finished it off and when we get back to kp she tells me the grandma complained the food was cold and without hesitation i said ‘well she fucking ate it all so tell her to fuck off and talk to someone who gives a shit’. she went quiet and i was like,, man i hope i didn’t scare her. but like. they cleared their plates. there was no food left. she didn’t call someone over. she didn’t say anything to anyone when they ask if it was okay. why wait until the end?? anyway i told thé barman and he giggled (he’s got a lovely laugh in my opinion bc it sounds like he’s snickering at everything). i was NOT going to tell my manager bc there’s literally no point. same day, later on, a man said his mussels were cold, i took them back and the kitchen cooked them again. i’d barely put the food down before he called me over (this one is a good one bc he hasn’t eaten EVERYTHING before complaining and therefore we can do something about the problem‼️) respect to that guy.

one of the girls gave me a lift home last night n the barman directed her right to my house without ever having been to my house before (his cousin used to live in the flats down the other end, he says) and when i messaged her later on thanking her and saying it was a bit sus that he directed her perfectly to mine n she said ‘hmm ben seems to go to yours more than he does his own home 🤔🤔🤔🤔’ bc apparently he was absolute shite at giving directions to his flat 😭 n e way he’s a sweetheart n he says he doesn’t like christmas anymore n he made me sad after he said that n i said i’d post coal through his letter box n he said i might as well n i was like okay this is an actual problem n now i’m gone be super nice to him at christmas bc he deserves so much more that the hand he’s been dealt. this convo happened after i let him try this herbal tea he said smelt nice n i said it tasted like christmas to me. he’s such a good person (despite literally everything he tells me about his past) n i cannot have him being a little humbug. god i think this crush i joked to you about is becoming a soft core friendship. like every fucking wattpad story out there. me n the girls agreed someone has to love him 🥺

okay im signing off now ily ~ 🌻

 i am glad you are feeling better though, nobody deserves to suffer. and nobody deserves to have their emotions invalidated. remember that your emotions matter at all times. <3

yesyes i am still in school !! altough my summer break started on july 1st so i am not that stressed about managing many things at once anymore hh,, also you are working so much ??? damn ?? please remember to take some breaks and relax !! and meet your friends !!! have fun. i know you are saving up money but please dont overwork yourself !

wHY ARE PEOPLE SO RUDE OH MY GOD I SWEAR,,, i learned that while working with people. i just,, it feels like they are all looking down on me just because i am young and work there part-time. like bro,,chill. also i feel kind of bad when they ask me where stuff is and i cant tell them bc i have no idea but at the same time if people were all introverts like me i wouldnt have this problem. :) dfjk jk jk i should improve on that. i wish people were more nice to you !!! who do they think they are ?? like,,,,,why are you rude. this is clearly not your problem.

i like it when people tell you respectfully. like the guy you mentioned. because clearly what are you going to do about the cold food when they’ve eaten it all. where’s the logic. 

IT SOUNDS LIKE HE IS OVER AT YOURS EVERY OTHER DAY DFJAKL that’s so funny. also i am bad at giving directions to my flat as well lmaoo poor ladies that drive me home from work sometimes. also i hate christmas as well lmaoo i feel that boy. its a little hard for me and i hope he doesn’t feel as bad during christmas this year when he has you around hihi,,, i fully stan this friendship. altough i am a big fan of friends to lovers if you know what i mean. in the energy of wattpad :))

ily !!!

[athina-blaine]

“Hey, everyone, welcome back to my channel. My name is Maggie Abernathy and today we will be continuing our investigation of the, uh, eldritch monster slash English teacher who calls itself Jonathan Sims.”

-

Maggie is determined to catch Mr. Sims via her channel, and then everyone would see how cool and smart she was, right?

For @skyberia​, check out their amazing art!

Chapters: 1/1 [Complete]

Words: 5,998

Tags: POV Outsider, Teacher AU, 160 Never Happened, Scotland, The Eternal Struggle for Validation, Statement-Related Trauma, this ended up being a little less crack humor than i had first intended lmao, i blame jonny

~

The video opens to the image of an empty school courtyard. There’s a grunt, and then a young girl runs into the frame, turning to face the viewer. She has wild hair and even wilder eyes and is patting the wrinkles out of her grey, baggy hoodie. She couldn’t be more than 13.

“Hey, everyone, welcome back to my channel. My name is Maggie Abernathy and today we will be continuing our investigation of the, uh, eldritch monster slash English teacher who calls itself Jonathan Sims.”

Cut to a classroom, the camera peeking through a zipper.

A man with dark hair and nice clothes was standing at the front with his back to the other students, writing on the board.The video quality drops sharply, a faint whine humming in the background.

A low-quality dub begins playing over the image.

“Jonathan Sims came here in September of 2019. After some investigation, I have discovered that he previously held a position at the Magnus Institute in London, which investigates paranormal activity. Coincidence?”

There's a shift, and a voice from within the video speaks out.

“Mr. Sims, I have a question!”

The man turns, and there’s an touch of impatience to his expression.

“Miss Abernathy, this is not the time for—”

“Where’s the ark of the covenant?”

A sigh. “It was dismantled and melted down in 588 BC. Miss Abernathy—”

“What’s written on the Voynich manuscript?”

“Astrological readings and herbal recipes.”

“Who killed—”

“Miss Abernathy,” the man says, stringent, “please stay focused on the lecture. I’ll answer any questions at the end of class.” He turns back to the board. “And put away your phone.”

A hand appears over the camera, shoving it deeper into darkness. Another fuzzy dub plays over the image.

“Mr. Sims knows all these things he shouldn't know! Everyone says he's just joking, but I think it's something else. Maybe he's an immortal?"

Cut to a bustling lunchroom.

T he camera stares between a carton of milk and an orange, pointed towards a table filled with adults. One of them is the man from before, sipping from a porcelain mug. His back is to the camera again.

Suddenly, a mysterious object sails through the air. It’s a cup of vanilla pudding. The man turns sharply, eyes landing on the incoming projectile, before it hit him square in the face.

“Did you see that!” a voice hisses as the man scrambles for napkins. “There’s no way he could have known what was coming unless he literally has eyes in the back of his head! Researcher’s note: he might literally have eyes in the back of his head. Investigate further.”

“Miss Abernathy—”

The camera spins to an older man with graying hair walking into the frame, and, with a bitten off swear, the image spins away entirely.

Cut to an empty, school hallway. The camera is facing the door to a classroom.

“Every day, at the same time, give or take an hour, Mr. Sims returns to his classroom for some reason. He always makes sure no one's nearby before going in and locking the door. What's he hiding?"

The man walks into frame, glancing up and down the hallway, before walking inside, closing the door behind him.

“I bet he's doing some kind of dark ritual or something. I swiped a key from the teacher's lounge," the camera points down to a hand clutching a silver key, "so let's bust him."

With a jerk, the camera rushes towards the classroom and bursts into the door.

“Mr. Sims, Mr. Sims, there’s an emergency!”

The man shouts, dropping a bag full of tapes and papers.

“Miss Abernathy, please,” the man, startled. “Where did you get that key?”

Another dub plays.

“Okay, so I didn't catch him doing anything weird, but it's only a matter of time, right?"

Cut to a pair of feet walking across the sidewalk, the camera rocking back and forth.

“Every Friday, Mr. Sims leaves the school grounds and goes into town. He might be meeting some other eldritch thing. Hopefully, we'll find out.

The camera peeks around a stone wall. At the end of the sidewalk, there’s the man talking to another man with short hair and glasses. They seem friendly. The second man glances directly into the camera, then lifts his hand and waves.

The first man whirls around and, with a tight mouth, begins storming over. There’s a muffled shriek and the image blurs, footsteps clacking wildly on the pavement.

“He does have an accomplice!” the girl says, panting.

Cut back to the courtyard. The girl is wringing her hands, and she clears her throat.

“So, I haven't found anything substantial yet, but I think I'm getting close. Remember to, um, like, comment, and subscribe, everyone, and I’ll see you next Tuesday.”

She walks out of frame and the camera is jostled. The video ends.

 Maggie’s alarm was going off. Reaching over, she tapped around for the snooze button. Five more minutes.

Failing to find the button, she groaned, and lifted her head.

6:43.

Her alarm was set to go off at 6:15. School started in 17 minutes, and it was a 20-minute bike ride, minimum.

Swearing, she ripped off her bedsheets and ripped clothes off their hangers in her closet. No, no, she already had detention this weekend for the pudding cup thing. She couldn’t be late today. Crap, where was her backpack? She plucked it out of a pile of discarded clothes on her floor, threw on her hoodie, and ran out her bedroom.

Speeding through her bathroom routine, she ran into the kitchen, snatching up a granola bar, before tearing through the living room. The sound of deep, rumbling snores stopped her.

Dad was sprawled on the couch, still wearing his work clothes, blanket knocked aside. He hadn’t even taken off his watch and his work boots were caked with mud. Maggie had been up until 3 AM editing her video, which means he must have come home even later.

Jeez.

She fixed the blanket and shoved a pillow under his head and he barely stirred. He must have been really exhausted. Maggie dropped a kiss on his head before sprinting through the door and clamoring onto her bike. If she really pushed herself, she might make it before attendance.

By the time she rolled into school, the second bell was ringing. Her name was second on the attendance sheet. She wasn’t going to make it.

Dumping her bike near the rack, not even bothering to lock it up, she burst through the double doors and raced up the stairs, throwing open the door to her first period classroom.

“—Abernathy.”

“Here!” she said, squeezing the word out of her overwrought lungs.

Mr. Sims looked up from the attendance sheet.

“Welcome to class, Miss Abernathy," he said, unperturbed. "Right on time."

It wasn’t. It was, in fact, five minutes after attendance was usually taken. Maggie didn’t have the energy to process that, though, slumping into her seat with relief, heart racing in her chest. Ugh, she was sticky and sweaty and felt gross. She hated cardio.

Mr. Sims finished taking attendance shortly after, and then asked for the class to turn in last night’s homework. He went from desk to desk collecting their papers, and he slowed when he reached Maggie.

“I would ask that you not stay up so late in the future."

He said it with a gentle, knowing curl of his mouth.

Maggie stared up at him. Any other time, she would have pulled out her notebook and jotted down such obviously suspicious activity, but, for now, she let herself savor the fact that she wouldn’t be having double detention this Saturday, and shrugged, pulling out her English journal.

There was time for investigating, later.

 It was pizza and green beans for lunch today. Maggie scanned for available seats. Today, she was lucky. There was a seat open by Cynthia, from math class.

“Um, hey,” she said, approaching the table. There was a hushed silence as eyes swiveled towards her, and she swallowed, nervous. “Can I sit here, today?”

One of the boy’s eyes shot towards another, who shrugged.

“Yeah, go ahead,” he said.

Pleased, she sat down. Usually, she’d have to sit in the far corner of the cafeteria. It was much colder over there.

“So, I, um, posted a new video last night, on my YouTube channel,” she said to Cynthia, stirring her green beans, “if you guys wanted to check it out.”

“You’re still making those things?” said Cynthia with a raised brow.

“Oh, uh,” she said, pausing at the tone of her voice as she said things. “Well, yeah. I’ve gotten, like, three new subscribers.”

“You’re so obsessed with him, you know that? It’s kind of creepy.”

Maggie barely held back her flinch. “I’m not obsessed, I’m investigating—”

“Isn’t he married?” said one of the boys. “I think I met his husband at the bake sale last month.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” said Cynthia. “My mom sees them both all the time in the café. Won’t shut up about how cute they are. Oh, that reminds me, we had this customer the other day—”

“I bet he’s doing something really freaky during study hall,” Maggie said. If she could just get them to care … “You know, whenever he goes back to his classroom? He always looks around to make sure no one’s watching and locks the door. Isn’t that suspicious?”

“Yeah, sure, weird,” said Cynthia, turning to the boy across from her. “So, we had this customer, and I think he must have been from Wales or something …”

Maggie opened her mouth, but nobody was looking at her. Embarrassment flushing her face, she stared down at her food, because still, still nobody cared about her videos. She briefly fantasized about huffing and picking up her tray and dramatically storming off, but there was nowhere else to sit. Nowhere but that cold back corner of the cafeteria.

She’d just need to dig up something more exciting to put in her videos. For instance, what it was that Mr. Sims got up to during study hall. Then they’d check out her videos. Then they’d see what a good detective she was.

She plucked up one of her green beans, but found she wasn’t hungry.

 Maggie knew there was something weird about Mr. Sims since pretty much the moment she met him; when the principal was introducing him to the class at the start of the semester, and he was taking attendance.

“Maggie Abernathy,” he had said, and Maggie’s eyebrows shot up, stunned.

“Um. Here?”

He didn't react to her surprise, moving on to the next student. At the end of class, she walked up to his desk, fidgeting with her hands in front of her chest.

“Why did you call me Maggie?”

Mr. Sims looked up, one brow raised. His expression was so severe and dignified that Maggie had to look away, too intimidated to make eye contact.

“It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Actually, my name’s Margaret.”

“Oh, that’s,” he lifted the attendance sheet, squinting. “Yes, that appears to be the case. I apologize.”

Well, she didn't know about all that. Yes, Margaret had been her name, but she hated it. It was so old and came from her grandmother, who yelled at her all the time. She’d always wanted to have people call her Maggie, but she had this terrible vision of people calling it stupid. Only her diary knew what she really wanted.

Mr. Sims smiled, his expression gentling. It made him look a lot younger, and she flushed.

“Unless you would prefer to be called Maggie, Miss Abernathy?”

The heat on her face became that much worse, and she fixed her hair.

“Um, yeah, that would be cool.”

At home, Maggie was working on her new video and decided talk about her new teacher. She had titled it, My new teacher’s a cryptid!, half-jokingly, but it had received the most views she’s ever had. Almost 200! She had received one comment, the only one she'd gotten that wasn't from her dad, and it had said she should keep investigating.

So, she just sort of … started investigating. She hadn’t really expected anything else to come of it, but then Mr. Sims just kept acting strangely. Nothing to prove anything, not really, but just enough to make Maggie wonder that, maybe, there actually was something more going on here. And if it got her videos more views, then, well, she supposed it was a win-win.

It was more than just the name thing, after all. She always got the feeling Mr. Sims was … watching them, somehow. Even when his back was turn to the class. He always knew who was playing with their phone under the desk, who was cheating, etc.

Even outside of class, she sometimes got that feeling. It only became more obvious when the feeling went away; it felt like taking her backpack off at the end of the school day. That’s how she knew the best times to continue with her investigations. Like now, for instance.

Maggie waited until Mr. Sims left before sneaking over to the classroom. She could have anywhere from 10 minutes to an hour, so she needed to be quick. He locked the door, but Maggie had just swiped the key from the teacher’s lounge, again.

It’s not her fault they just left them dangling on a hook where anyone could grab it.

As quietly as she could, she slipped inside and closed the door behind her. Now, to investigate.

Pulling out her phone, she cleared her throat.

“Okay, um, hey, guys,” she said, voice low. “I’ve successfully infiltrated Jonathan Sims’ classroom. Hopefully, we’ll discover more information about whatever it is that’s happening here.”

Reaching for the desk, she froze. She hadn’t had a problem imagining going through his desk, but being here, actually faced with doing it, she found it much harder. This was his desk. What if he had something ridiculously private in here?

Come on. The camera’s rolling.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the first drawer, but found it to be locked. She tried all the drawers, but they were all locked. Dammit. What was she supposed to do now?

She scanned the desk with her camera just to have something interesting to put in the video.

“What’s with this weird tape recorder?” she mumbled, fingers brushing the buttons. “Looks ancient.”

Then, she heard a voice. Mr. Sims.

Crap. It would be suspension for sure if she was caught having stolen the key again. Trying not to move anything out of place, she sprinted towards the back of the classroom and into the closet. She could see though the slit panels as Mr. Sims entered the room, talking on the phone.

“—go straight home,” he said, taking his seat. “If you buy one more scented candle, I’m going to—”

He sighed.

“Yes, alright, fine. I love you, too.”

He hung up, and then pulled the tape recorder closer to him, grabbing a file from the stack of papers. Intrigued, Maggie held up her phone, still recording. Perhaps this wasn’t a waste of time after all.

Mr. Sims cleared his throat, and then pressed a button on the recorder.

“Statement of Timothy Dale regarding an appointment with his acupuncturist. Statement recorded by Jonathan Sims, former Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute.”

Maggie narrowed her eyes. He was taking a statement? Like some kind of cop? He had mentioned the Magnus Institute just now. Did this use to be his job?

How … boring. No wonder he left if this is what he did all day.

Mr. Sims took a deep breath, and then his voice … changed.

“I didn't think I had so much blood,” he said, softly. “I don't think I have so much blood. I don't know how I'm alive.” He paused, seeming to collect himself, before continuing, “It started when I went to visit my acupuncturist. I’m a pretty stressed out guy, you see. It’s funny, how something can sound so painful, like being stabbed with dozens of needles over and over again, can actually be quite relaxing, but Mrs. Lloyd had a magic touch.”

Maggie shuddered. Gross. She hated needles.

“Mrs. Lloyd wasn’t there that day, though. Instead was a strange man who called himself Mr. Bail. I asked where Mrs. Lloyd was and he said she was on an extended leave of absence, but that he would be able to provide a level of care even better than Mrs. Lloyd, if I was interested. Obviously, I was interested, I had been looking forward to this appointment all well, and I figured he was trustworthy since Mrs. Lloyd left her facility in his care, so why not?”

It may have just been the needles, but Maggie was starting to feel weird. Unpleasant. Maybe recording this was a bad idea, after all? But even though she thought about it, she couldn’t bring herself to lower the phone.

“The procedure began, and it didn’t hurt, but it felt different. Everything was fine until the end, when I noticed that some of the puncture marks were bleeding. I hadn’t even felt it. I confronted the man, enraged, but he said it was all a part of the healing process. He said it all with a smile. The front desk person was sensible enough to give me a refund. They were lucky I didn’t call the police. But something wasn’t right. The marks wouldn’t stop bleeding. No matter how long I kept the bandages on, they kept bleeding. Days went by and they just kept bleeding.”

This was gross. This was really, really gross. Did some guy really go to the Institute and make this kind of statement? It must have been a prank. Mr. Sims had to know he was being pranked, right?

She didn’t think he knew, though. He sounded scared. Why was he reading it if he was so scared?

She needed to get out of here. She might be suspended, but she didn’t care anymore, she just wanted to get away from this awful, awful story. But when she tried to move her legs, she found, with a sinking feeling, that they wouldn’t go. She willed herself to open the closet door, but it was like she was encased in a stone mold. She couldn’t even lower her phone.

The only thing she could do was shake, and breathe.

“I’ve lost so much blood these last few weeks. I don’t know how I’m still alive. My chest hurts and my breathing’s shallow and I’m so pale and cold, but more just keeps coming out. It’s gotten on everything; my clothes, my bed, the walls. And the smell …” Mr. Sims frowned. “Have you ever been around that much blood before? You can taste the metal in the back of your throat, all the time. It doesn’t go away.”

Stop.

Please stop ...

“And it just keeps coming.”

He talked and talked and talked, until Maggie’s eyes burned and her legs cramped. She was shaking so hard, she thought that at any minute Mr. Sims would hear her and save her from whatever this was. But he just kept reading.

Finally, Mr. Sims' voice returned to normal.

“Mr. Dale committed suicide shortly after this statement. Due to the amount of blood discovered in his home, the police initially suspected a burglary gone wrong, but there were no signs of forced entry. There’s little else to be gleaned from scanning through online archives.” He sighed. “Even the statement file had blood on it. It sounded like a pained existence. End recording.”

Maggie slapped a hand over her mouth to hold back her gulping gasp for air.

It was over.

Leaning back in his chair, Mr. Sims let out a long breath. The lines on his face seemed deeper. More tired than before. But there was something else. Something … satisfied. Nausea curled in Maggie’s stomach. He looked as if though he had just had a big dinner.

At last, Mr. Sims got up to leave, and she could have cried. She so, so desperately wanted to get out of this closet. She wished she had never come here in the first place.

But then, just as Mr. Sims fingers brushed the handle, she saw something on the back of his hand. Some kind of wrinkle, gnarled and ugly. How had she never noticed such an eyesore before?

But then, it opened.

It was an eye, bright green, and it was staring right at her.

When Mr. Sims closed the door, she slid to the floor, arms and legs wracking with tremors. Tears streamed down her face.

What did she do? What did she do? Lifting her phone, she tried calling dad, knowing full well he was likely in the middle of his shift, but she needed him.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” she whispered, biting her lip. It went to voice mail, and she buried her face in her knees, tears trailing down her cheeks in thick globs. “Please …”

She needed to get out of here. When the shaking subsided and Maggie felt like she could move again, she stumbled towards the school entrance, not even stopping to grab her bike.

She wasn’t sure where she was going, but anywhere was better than here.

 The 403 bus would be coming in another 34 minutes. It could take her to the Glasgow airport. She didn’t know exactly what to do with this information, although a vague plan of buying a ticket back to America was forming in the back of her head. Mom would probably be mad to see her, but there was nowhere else that Maggie could go.

A bus pulled into the stop, but it wasn’t hers. It was still another 23 minutes. She really hated living in the countryside, sometimes.

“Excuse me.”

She looked up. There was a man with soft brown hair and glasses standing near the bench. He must have just gotten off. There was something familiar about him, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

He smiled.

“Are you Maggie Abernathy?”

She straightened up with shock.

“Sorry,” he said, holding up a hand. “I’m a big fan of your YouTube channel. Your videos are very good."

Maggie's jaw dropped. Well, that was certainly ... unexpected. She tried to say something, but it kept getting twisted up by her tongue. She’s been so desperate for anyone to take even the slightest interest in her videos, that, now that she was given the chance, she didn’t even know where to begin.

“I, um, not really,” she said, tracing the pattern of her jeans. “I just copy stuff I see from other channels. You know, BuzzFeed, Ghost Hunt UK, and stuff.”

“Oh, Melanie King fan, are you?”

“I mean, yeah. She’s only got the best ghost hunting channel online. People say its Franco Overton’s channel, but they just like his dumb humor." She kicked at the gravel with a pout. "King has the real stuff.”

“I’ll be sure to pass along the compliments.”

It took a moment for her to process the implication, but when she did, it hit her like a brick wall.

“You’re friends with Melanie King?”

“Well, ex-coworkers, really,” he said, scrubbing the back of his head. “Although I’ve been trying to get her and her partner up for Christmas. She and my husband don’t really get along, though.”

Maggie only knew of two out gay couples in town, and, with a sinking feeling, she figured this man wasn’t Mrs. Adair. He wasn’t wearing nearly enough hair spray.

“You’re Mr. Sims husband, aren’t you?”

“Oh, does my reputation proceed me?” he asked, smiling. “My name is Martin Blackwood. It’s nice to meet you.”

Maggie lifted a hand in greeting, too stunned to form a polite response. If Mr. Blackwood knew about her videos and was watching her videos, that must mean …

“Does … does Mr. Sims watch my videos, too?”

“Sometimes. I keep telling him to talk to you about it, but he says to let you have your fun.” He laughed a little, “Honestly, I think you intimidate him."

Somehow, she had never considered that Mr. Sims could be watching her videos, too, and all the terrible things she did and said. Mr. Blackwood was watching them, too, who seemed so awfully nice.

Now Maggie remembered where they had properly met before, outside of her ambushing. It had been at the bake sale last month. Maggie had brought scones, but they were wrinkled and soggy, even though she thought she had stored them correctly.

Mr. Blackwood had advised her to sprinkle her scones with flour before putting them in the oven, that way the glaze would set in right. He still ate one, and said it was delicious.

What was such a seemingly normal man doing with ... whatever Mr. Sims was? Had she made some kind of mistake? But that was impossible. Even now, she could see the image of that, that thing on his hand.

Another image came to her, though. Mr. Sims had tried one of her scones as well. His eyes had widened, exclaimed them to be "Quite good" and asked what she had put in them, to which she said orange zest. At the end of the day, he had come back for a second scone.

Maggie's video that week had been all about how Mr. Sims seemed to have some kind of compulsion power, and all the malicious ways could potentially use it.

Maggie lowered her face in her hands, her stomach roiling so badly she thought she might vomit.

“Are you okay?” said Mr. Blackwood, taking a seat next to her. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I didn’t mean to …” She trailed off, not even sure what she had even meant to do. “I just wanted to do something cool.”

“I think your videos are pretty cool.”

“No you don't," she said, under her breath. "No one does. Everyone at school thinks I'm creepy."

“I suppose you do get a little intense, sometimes. Although, I was really impressed how well you aimed that pudding cup.”

Her face flushed bright red, more embarrassed than she had ever thought possible.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffled, wiping her face. “I don't think those things about Mr. Sims. I just thought this channel would make people want to talk to me.”

Mr. Blackwood hummed, looking out towards the road.

“Well, I think you have the right idea, personally,” he said. “If you do the things you love long enough, you might meet people who love those things, too. And they might want to be friends.”

Maggie looked down at her feet. It was hard to process anything with how much was stuffing her brain. But Mr. Blackwood was nice. She liked the sound of his voice. Having him sit next to her, silent and patient, helped her senses settle themselves.

She grimaced. Had she really been thinking of flying back all the way to America?

Seeming to sense her struggle, Mr. Blackwood turned towards her.

“Is it alright if I ask what you’re doing out here?”

She futzed with her hands, trying to find the right words. This was Mr. Sims' husband, after all. “I saw Mr. Sims reading something. I think he called it a statement.”

Some of the color drained from Mr. Blackwood’s expression, and she fully expected him to call her crazy, because, yes, it was a little crazy, but instead, he said,

“That must have been rather frightening.”

Maggie blinked. He knew.

Mind racing with questions, she started with, “Why did he do that? It looked like he enjoyed it or something, but also like he didn’t. Like he was, I don’t know,” her nose twisted, “eating it.”

“It’s complicated,” he said. “He doesn’t enjoy it, though, but if he doesn’t do it, well,” he glanced down at his feet, “he won’t feel so good after a while.”

Maggie leaned back, considering the trees on the other end of the road. It sounded awful, having to read those terrible stories all the time. No wonder Mr. Sims looked so old.  She’d only listened to one, and she was pretty sure she was going to have nightmares for weeks.

A noise caught her attention. A car was pulling up to the bus stop, and when the door opened, every muscle in her body stiffened. It was Mr. Sims.

“Jon,” Mr. Blackwood said, rising to his feet and Maggie jumped up alongside him. Mr. Sims glanced at him, surprised, but his attention turned back to Maggie. She glanced at his hand, but nothing was there.

“Miss Abernathy,” he said, voice laced with distress as he closed the car door and began approaching them, “you can’t just disappear like that. The entire school is—”

Mr. Blackwood pressed a hand to his husband’s shoulder, leaning in close and whispering something into his ear. The expression on Mr. Sims’ face shifted from barely concealed concern to stark horror, the color draining from his face.

“Oh my god,” he said. “Miss Abernathy, are you—”

“I’m fine,” she said, quickly. Mr. Sims didn't seem to think it was fine, though. It unsettled her, seeing that fear in his eyes.

“I am so sorry," he said, holding his hand out, as if he were placating a wild animal. "You were never supposed to see that.”

“Is …” She hesitated, picking at a frayed thread in her hoodie. “Is it okay if I go home early today?”

Mr. Sims didn't seem capable of formulating a response. Mr. Blackwood squeezed his husband's shoulder, and smiled at Maggie.

"I'm sure that will be fine. How about we go back to the school together and wait for your parents?"

Her eyes slid over to Mr. Blackwood before returning to Mr. Sims. Both of their eyes held nothing but concern. Mr. Sims had brown eyes. Not green. She hadn’t noticed that before.

She nodded.

 Maggie got to stay home for the rest of the week.

After her voicemail, dad had lost his mind. She said she just had a bad nightmare after falling asleep in class, but that didn’t seem to be what was troubling him.

It was only later that day, towards the end of dinner, that he gently admitted he was furious at himself for missing such an important call. She told him it was fine, he was working, she knew that, but that didn’t seem to make him feel better.

He even took a few days off to spend time with her, make sure she was okay. They watched TV and played board games together. It was the most she'd seen him in months.

And she didn't have to go to school! Much as she loved her dad, that was still probably the best part. She had all her assignments emailed to her and she would sleep in until noon.

There was still her channel, though. During a bout of intense guilt, she had deleted it, barely giving herself time to second guess. She just couldn't stand the thought of all the things she'd said and done being bared before the world. Then, she turned to her phone. 

It took her hours to build up the courage, but when she finally played that video, she was almost disappointed to find that it was distorted beyond all recognition. She deleted it.

By the time the nightmares finally abated by the time Monday rolled around, she was actually starting to feel better, just a little bit.

 Maggie was in the school library when she saw Mr. Sims again. She had been in the middle of staring at the tail of a mountain hare, scratching her chin, when the door closed. She looked up to see him juggling an armload of books.

“Hey, Mr. Sims!”

He jumped, the books tumbling out of his arms and onto the floor with a loud crash. Maggie winced, and shot up from her computer, but Mr. Sims held out his hand.

“That’s alright,” he said, leaning down to begin picking up the books. “It’s good to see you again, Miss Abernathy. How are you feeling?”

“Better."

“I’m glad to hear it.” As he straightened up, dusting off the sleeve of the books, his expression shifted to something a bit more unpolished. “I should have told you this much earlier, but I wanted to apologize for frightening you so badly.”

Sheepish, Maggie soothed down a loose strand of her hair. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it.”

Mr. Sims frowned, clearly deciding it mostly certainly wasn't okay. “Still, you can rest easy knowing I won’t be taking statements on the school premises any longer.”

"I shouldn’t have snuck into your classroom in the first place.”

“It’s not your fault, it was mine for not being more diligent."

Still, it must have been awfully inconvenient for him, but the way his lips curled downwards made her think he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. She cleared her throat.

“I’m also sorry about filming you,” she said. “And stalking you. And throwing food.”

“It's alright. I’ve been through much more harrowing experiences than a wayward cup of pudding.”

Maggie had no trouble believing him, fully aware of the rumors of the scars that pocketed Mr. Sims skin, but she was pulled from her musings when Mr. Sims glanced down at her monitor.

“What are you working on?”

“Oh, um,” she fixed her hair, blushing, “the multimedia club asked if I could put together something for morning announcements. They wanted a segment on the rabbits that live nearby.”

“Did you get these images yourself?”

“No, I’m just editing it. Frank is the one who films it. He’s got this amazing camera his dad got him for his birthday.”

“Seems like it’s coming along nicely.”

“Thanks,” she said, taking her seat, picking at her cuticles. She wasn't quite sure what exactly the boundaries were, but she couldn't know until she asked. “So, like, you know everything, right?”

Mr. Sims raised a brow.

“Do you know when Brendon Urie is dropping his next album?”

“Unfortunately, precognition is not among my list of skills.”

Maggie pouted. Mr. Sims looked torn for a moment, before sighing.

“I believe there’s talks for a holiday release, however.”

“No way,” she said. “Do you know when he’s going on tour? Is he gonna come to London again, or maybe Glasgow? Is it—”

“Have a good day, Miss Abernathy,” said Mr. Sims, continuing further into the library. Maggie huffed, but returned to the monitor. The school had way better editing software than what she had at home, so she was hoping to finish this before school ended.

“Hey, Maggie.”

She turned. Frank lifted a hand in greeting, dropping his computer bag on the table and she smiled.

“Hey there, Frank. You got some really great footage today.”

“Oh, um, thanks,” he said, a light red staining his cheeks. “It’s hard to take a bad picture with this camera, though."

"No way, you've got a real knack for it." She pulled up an image of two rabbits cuddling next to each other. "This looks so good! You must have waited around for hours to get a shot like that."

Frank scrubbed the back of his head, the flush  of his face growing bright. "Yeah, I had to work for that one a bit. By the way, Alice is inviting the club over to her house later so we can go over our videos together. Her mum’s bringing snacks. You wanna come with?”

Maggie's hand paused on the keyboard. “Oh, um ..." Be cool. "Yeah, that sounds fun.”

“Great. See you there.”

Frank waved and Maggie waved back. Oh, shoot. Now she’d really need to finish the video before school ended if she wanted it ready to share with the rest of the club.

Pulling out her phone, she sent her dad a quick text about her plans, before turning back to the monitor.

[keyboard-clicks]

tearinmyheart reblogged your post and added:

Pls go on

ok it’s not a super “FUCK YOU JOB” story but it’s still pretty good I think.  So this week, Sunday-Saturday, was gonna be my last week at this job.  I’ve lined up a new job with like, better everything and I’ll be starting soon, but I wanted to give my 2 weeks to be considerate...

But imma be real it was SO HARD to care about LITERALLY ANYTHING.  But whatever bc it was low stress, I just kinda chilled and did the bare minimum and nobody blamed me bc, y’know, I’M LEAVING.

Today I’m there just chilling with my friend and our other coworkers.  Things are getting done, but I’m not micromanaging or any of that bs bc we’re all adults everyone can handle doing some tasks.  If they ever wanna take a few minutes of a break or look at their phones I’m not gonna stop them.  They’ll get shit done.

Enter K.  She comes in today and announces that she’s our new GM.  Almost no introduction ,just a ‘hey I’m K I’m your boss now”.  We knew it was legit bc we’d heard our District Manager mention her a few times but it was really surprising that she just kinda... showed up.  Our previous GM quit literally like 4 days ago so the speed with which they found us a new one was kind of incredible and also terrible.

Now I’m gonna level with everyone.  I don’t do very well being told what to do,, especially by people I don’t know.  The old GM, i had my problems with him but overall he was a good guy and most importantly he went out of his way to be pleasant and get to know all of us.  K just came in and was like “You need to make sure you’re doing [arbitrary task] every day.”  I wont’ go into the details of [arbitrary task] but let’s just say it was a thing managers did to micromanage.  Since I was the opening manager, I was supposed to do the thing.  I had not been doing the thing bc a) we’ve only been having like 3 people on staff per day bc of COVID, b) I’d rather let everyone pick which tasks they wanna do rather than picking for them and c) I’m leaving, I literally don’t care.

I kinda say this to K, and I’ll admit it was not my wisest moment to back talk the new GM within 5 minutes of her walking into the store.  But I don’t think before i speak sometimes and i just kinda went “I’m gonna be honest, my last day is the end of the coming week I don’t... really care.”

So that made her mad.  But whatever.  I don’t know you, lady, your feelings and opinions of me have no impact.  (A slight lie, I very quickly felt sad that I made someone dislike me but it was overpowered by the happiness I felt of talking back to a manager.)

So the day goes on and stuff keeps getting done.  Something else ends up happening that K and I have a disagreement about, really nothing major but something she was like “next time, call your superior to handle the situation” and i’m like bitch a) it wasn’t a big deal and b) I’m a manager, I’m allowed to deal with unhappy customers  i don’t know you i’m not gonna call you for the problems when you don’t even officially work at this store yet and you’re just here like 2 days a week until you finish at your OTHER store.

But I don’t say that.  What I do say is (and I know almost exactly bc I texted it to a friend directly after I said it), “Listen.  I know you’re just trying to do your job, and you’re trying to do it well.  I respect that.  But like i told you it’s my last week and I honestly do not care enough to do more than the bare minimum.  I’m only still here because I didn’t want there to be a panic-scramble to fill the 4 opening shifts I’m supposed to have.  (there’s only a couple of keyholders for the store, so finding people people to fill the 4 opening shifts that would cover would have been difficult.)  If you don’t like me, if you want me to go, I will give you my keys and leave.  I just don’t want to put you in a position of having a missing keyholder for 4 openings this week if I don’t have to.”

She changed the topic and said nothing about this, so I figured she was like “y’know what fine I’ll wait it out”.

BOY WAS I WRONG.

She kept leaving the building to make phonecalls for the rest of the shift, and I kinda assumed it was stuff for her other store or calling the District Manager to confirm stuff about moving locations, whatever.  I did a few small tasks, stickered stuff, rang people out, whatever whatever.  End of day comes I’m like “Hey D I’m taking down your drawer.”  D tells me “Oh, K said she was gonna do it.”  and I’m like well it’s 15 minutes to close and she’s not up here so I’m gonna do it.  So I do, but Kay stops me and takes the drawer and says she’ll do it and I’m like cool ok I guess I’ll go man the front.  Then when we actually close I’m taking back my drawer and I set it in the office and K’s like “I forgot to do a thing on the spreadsheet” and I’m like “oh hey no problem I’ll do it” and she’s like “No, I’ll do it.” and I’m like “It’s... it’s really not that big a deal but okay if that’s what you want I guess.”

So I step back out of the office and twirl my keys around my finger for a few minutes, then she comes out of the office and just says, “I’m gonna take you up on your keys offer, you’re done.”  And I’m like cool ok, so I take my keys off my keyring and give them to her, then I go into the office to count my till but she says no, she’ll do it.  This part was probably just me reading the room wrong bc autism but I go like, “Oh, maybe it’s different at your store but here we normally have the person whose drawer it is count it while the manager looks on, but if you do it a different way that’s fine.” and she’s just like “No you’re just completely done, go get your stuff and I’ll escort you out.”

turns out the calls she was making were to the other two keyholders so get the 4 openings figured out and I’m like... well damn okay.  Like I feel kind of upset but also not really bc that job was getitng on my fucking NERVES like fuck I hate retail.  So I just kinda shrug and say okay and go get my bag and my snack and have her check my bag before I leave (have to have a manager check bags when you leave to prevent theft) and she’s just like “By the way... why do you keep your bag behind the counter?’

I just kinda shrug.  The real answer is that it’s easier but I just say, “I dunno, I know we’re not allowed to.”  (I’d just been doing it for the past few days bc I had such little amount of stuff with me and so few fucks to give).  And K just looks at me and goes, “Yeah, no shit!”

Then she unlocks the door for me and I go out like “k peace byee” and I think she was actually angry by how nonplussed I seemed.  and that’s the story of how I got fired a week before my last day at the job lol

[harleyspotatoes]

hcs re: school dances! un/requited crushes! insecurities? all the gooey, sappy stuff :)

hello! i am very excited to write these hehe i hope you enjoy!

WARNING: the last one about insecurities has spoilers for the movie so please read at your own risk if you have yet to watch it!

school dances:

their school’s annual semi formal is around the corner and both boys don’t have dates bc superhero work obviously comes before that stuff 

they both want to skip the event entirely because Billy deems it stupid and pointless and Freddy can’t dance because of his leg

Mary and Darla beg them to go (Mary barely succeeds, it’s Darla who really sells it)

They begrudgingly agree

They get last minute suits and a cheap four set of clip-on ties that all match because it is so last minute to buy anything else 

Freddy gets the blue one and Billy gets the red one obv

They get there and it’s kind of awkward bc Billy does not want to dance (hes kind of being a brat about it) and Freddy is too embarrassed to even try (poor bby)

Mary trots over to them and drags them up and tries to get them to dance several times

it gets kind of annoying

So in attempt to avoid her Billy and Freddy go to a staircase by the back of their gym and climb up to the room of the school

The music is really loud downstairs that they can hear it from up there

They sit there next to each other on the ledge of the roof in silence but it’s not awkward

A couple songs go by and Billy stands up and reaches his hand towards Freddy and says:

“You know Mary might be right. It’s our first semi, we should at least dance once”

Freddy scoffs:

“You were just complaining about how much you didn’t want to dance and besides,” *gestures to his leg*

“I didn’t want to dance in front of a bunch of strangers.”

“I can’t dance Billy”

“Come on Freddy! It can’t be that hard”

“I. CAN’T. DANCE.”

“Oh for the love of-”

Billy then drags Freddy up and holds him while he sort of hovers in the air

I am a FIRM believer in the fact that Billy has reduced powers while he’s in his teenage form

this next part is lowkey a copy of @superbatson​ but I thought it was the cutest thing ever so

anyways Billy lifts Freddy up and now they are both suspended in air

“Oh my god Billy what are you doing?!”

“Dancing?”

Freddy is kind of (very) horrified for the first couple minutes but then calms down after he hasn’t fallen yet and moves his arms from holding Billy’s forearms for balance to around Billy’s neck

Billy then moves his arms to Freddy’s waist

They sway back and forth to the music

Eventually Billy smirks:

“I thought you said you couldn’t dance?

Freddy rolls his eyes:

“That’s on the ground moron.”

Billy chuckles and pulls Freddy in really close

Like Freddy’s head is now resting on Billy’s shoulder

Billy turns his head into Freddy’s curls and kisses his hair

“I’m glad we came tonight”

“Yeah, now we have to tell Mary she was right”

“She doesn’t have to know if we don’t tell her”

Freddy laughs and they just continue until the songs start to fade and the dance is over

un/requited crushes:

so i know you requested gooey and sappy stuff but i had to add some angst to this one jfdlakj sorry but i will add some fluffy stuff towards the end if i can fit it hehe

so both boys have had crushes on each other for a while

like Freddy has been attracted to Billy since he first walked in his (well now their) bedroom

and Billy grew affections a little bit after the Shazam stuff

(it’s been maybe 4-5 since the sivana incident)

Freddy is very open with his emotions as we see in the movie

he can barely contain excitement, is very quick to reprimand Billy when he is going off course, and openly expresses his fear

He may not ever declare his love for Billy but he does joke around a lot about it

like he would hug and touch Billy a lot (personal space who?)

blow him kisses and stuff like that

like kind of joke around but still express a little bit

it confuses the hell out of Billy

he thinks that it’s just classic Freddy behavior 

he has no idea Freddy’s actions are derived from actual feelings

Billy tries to stay calm about it and really tries to hide his hurt and confused emotions but one day it slips

Billy is leaving a room and Freddy is like:

“Bye Billy, love you!”

It may seem innocent and Billy knows that it’s probably a joke (it’s not) but it hurts him more that he can explain

Billy thinks: Maybe if I ignore him, these feelings will stop

and that’s exactly what he does

Freddy doesn’t pick up on it at first

but once he does he is beyond confused

He doesn’t understand what he did wrong

After a solid week of very limited interaction, Freddy finally says something

They just got home and Freddy locks Billy in their room before he can go out to his afternoon patrol

“You can’t ignore me forever Billy”

Billy just looks at him and tightens his jaw 

“I don’t even know what I did wrong. You can’t just do that to someone who is supposedly your best friend.”

Billy clenches his fist

“That’s exactly it!”

Freddy tilts his head to the side in confusion after Billy snapped

“You… you are my best friend, that’s what you are. And… and I know even if I don’t want it, that is all you’ll ever be.”

Billy starts tearing up

Freddy is still confused but now he’s extremely hurt

“Wait, you.. you don’t want to be friends anymore?”

“It’s just so hard Freddy! You keep joking around like you’re into me or something when I know it’s all some dumb act!”

Freddy’s face bursts into realization

“That’s why you’re upset?!”

“I can’t stand it Freddy! You confuse me so much I can’t even tell what’s real or not with you!”

“Billy… I-”

‘No! Just.. just shut up Freddy.”

They stand there looking at the ground in silence for a while

Freddy finally speaks up:

“Billy when I said I loved you, I meant it.”

Billy’s head shoots up immediately. 

“What?”

“I know I joke around a lot but actions ever stem from nothing.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’ve liked you for a long time, I just thought if I expressed it like that you’d think nothing of it and I would never be caught”

“Freddy…”

“I’m sorry Billy. I should have noticed it was affecting you.”

“No.. it’s okay. I should have said something.”

They smile at each other.

“I like you too Freddy.”

sorry for barely any fluff there jshfakjf i couldn’t find a way to put it in without making it seem out of place

last warning there are spoilers ahead

insecurities:

billy has been overworking himself a lot

like since all the kids got powers they split patrol duty up between each other

Billy on Monday and Thursday

Freddy on Tuesday and Friday

Mary on Wednesday and Saturday

Eugene and Pedro on Sunday

Darla obv does not get a patrol as she is way too young

but even if it’s not his day he still goes out

he never sleeps, his grades drop, and his overall mood plummets

nobody really notices at first because he gradually becomes like this overtime 

but after a few weeks Freddy saw the difference

he beats himself up for not noticing sooner

he confronts Billy about it and he just shrugs him off insisting he’s fine

Freddy does not believe him in the slightest but drops it for the meantime praying it gets better on it’s own

two weeks pass and things get significantly worse

he skips dinner to go on patrol, skips class, gets hurt 24/7, still maintains horrific grades, and still. never. sleeps.

Freddy decides enough is enough

On the rare occasion that Freddy sees Billy again it is in an empty hallway in their school

Billy (in teenage form) is sitting with his back to the wall using a first aid kit in an attempt to mend a cut on his arm

Freddy approaches him

“Where have you been Billy?”

Billy jumps but does not respond, instead going back to his cut

Freddy sighs, takes Billy’s supplies from his hand, and takes to helping Billy himself

“We’ve talked about this. Don’t think I didn’t notice you getting worse Billy. I just… look at yourself! When was the last time you even slept?“

They locked eyes and Freddy could see the pain in the brown bagged ones he was staring into

“Billy… please just tell me what’s wrong.”

Billy sighed and turned his head away from Freddy.

“I just don’t think I’m fit for this whole superhero thing.”

Freddy blinked in surprise.

“What?”

“It’s just… I don’t deserve it. I’ve tried and tried to get better but nothing is working. Freddy I don’t know how I’m supposed to protect anyone if I’m no good at it.”

“Billy…”

“I really want to be a good hero Freddy. But I just… I can’t do it.”

Billy’s voice was strained and exhausted

“Billy, you are an amazing hero. You are the most capable person I know. But you need to take care of yourself before you can even think of trying to take care of others.”

Freddy moved a hand to cup Billy’s face and used his thumb to turn Billy’s chin to face him. 

“You act like it’s up to you to protect everyone. Billy we are all here to support you! Me, Mary, Eugene, Pedro, Darla… your family. It kills me to see you like this.”

“But Freddy…”

“No!”

They just sat there in silence for a few seconds after Freddy’s outburst until Billy spoke up

“I’m sorry Freddy, I should have known better. I should have-”

“You don’t have to be sorry. Just take care of yourself.”

Freddy moved so that now both his hands were cupping Billy’s cheeks

Billy nodded through tears and Freddy pulled him into a hug

“I’ll try for you.”

I hope you enjoyed!! This took way longer than expected and is way longer than I thought it would be. I’m so sorry for the length I kind of got carried away. Anyways tysm for the request!