#bicycles teachers and bears oh my!

[yourimagines]

can u do a nate diaz x reader where basically the reader is friends with nick and nick likes her secretly but nate likes her too and the reader also likes nate and the rest is yours if that's possible and thank u so much fluff x sad

I really like this one to write, I hope you like it

Secretly in love

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Triggers; angst/sad, fluff and a bit of swearing

Nate POV

I was watching Y/N chatting away with Nick, totally ignoring me. I was scrolling through my socials when Y/N giggled. I looked up, she was blushing as Nick was teasing her about something. ‘Man, I really wish I was him, making her laugh like that.’ “Nate do you think I have a adorable laugh?” Y/N asked me while Nick was laughing. “Yes why?” Nick clapped in his hands and pointed at her. “See I told you.” Y/N groans while falling back into her seat. “It’s not adorable, it’s weird.” I shook my head, Nick teased her some more. ‘It’s not weird, I love that sound.’ I signed and stood up. “Where you going?” They asked. “I’m going to the gym.” “Okay.” I walked out, ready to leave them alone before my heart really breaks.

————

Nick and I were training together, he was doing some exercises on the bicycle as I throw some punches on the boxing bag. “What happens last night, you left for training but since when do you train at Monday night?” Nick asked while I throw some more punches. “ I couldn’t be there any minute longer.” “Why?” I stopped and looked at him. “Well…. Don’t laugh.” He stopped as well. “I won’t, I never will judge you, you know that you’re my brother.” I nodded, getting some sweaty hands. I coughed slightly. “I like her.” He slowly nodded. “You like her as in more than just being friends.” I nodded “Yeah I fancy her.” He nodded slowly. “Are you mad that I like your friend, I understand I don’t want our relationship to get broken by a woman, I keep my distance.” He shook his head “No I’m not mad, I’m a bit uhh I don’t know.” He brushed his hands against his shirt. He inhaled through his nose. “I like her as well.” I was shocked. “You like her as well?” He threw his arms up. “Yeah, oh this is so fucked up.” I shook my head, slightly starting to laugh in disbelief. “Nahh for real?” He nods. “Nate I promise who ever is the lucky one, she can not come between us, I don’t want to lose my brother over a woman, if she like you I respect that and I hope you would do the same.” I nodded immediately. “Nick I promise, I love you and I don’t want to hurt you or lose you.” He stretched out his hand, I grabbed it. “Good because it would be a shame if that would happened.” “Yeah, I would hate myself if I ever lose you.” He smiles at me. “Good, I won’t fight you on this tho, If you want to shoot your shot you have my blessing.” I nodded, slowly getting back at my training. Nick started to train as well. ‘Shoot your shot Nate, who knows.’

————-

Nick POV

Y/N was hanging around the house, she was watching me beating Nate in the UFC game. “It’s not fair!” Nate threw his controller onto the table. I threw my arms up. Y/N giggled, I smiled down at her. ‘She’s so beautiful.’ “Won again, y/n do you wanna play against Nathan?” I reached out my controller to her. She shyly nods and takes the controller. “I’ll be easy on you.” Nate says while smiling brightly at her. Y/N shyly smiles back. ‘Oh mate, she never looks at me like that, I don’t think I can bear this.’ I watch them play the game. Y/N is good, because she learned it from me. “How is this possible.” Nate says while losing against her. “I have a great teacher.” I smiled at her. “This is bullshit.” Nate throws his controller again on the table. “I quit, you guys are the worst.” Y/N giggles. “I thought you were taking it easy on me.” Nate shoots her a glare, I laughed. “Oh man she got you.” Nate pushed me slightly. “Oh shut it.” Nate stood up, walking away to the kitchen. “You guys want also something to drink?” He asked. “Yes.” We both said. Y/N looked at me, carefully leaning a bit closer to me. “Nick can I asked you something?” “Yes.” She looked nervous, fiddling with her hands. “Do you know if Nate maybe likes me?” ‘You fucking lost both of them now.’ I felt a lot of emotions but tried to compose myself. ‘Just be honest to her, don’t lose both of them.’ “You don’t know this from me but he fancies you.” She started to blush. “Really.” I nodded. “Would you mind if…. You know, I don’t want to come between you guys.” “No it’s fine.” She smiles brightly at me. “Thank you Nick, your the best.” She gave me a quick hug. I felt my heart brake in millions of tiny pieces. Nate walked in with our drinks. I stood up and grabbed the drink out of his hand. He looked at me surprised. “You’re okay?” He whispered. “Just shoot your shot.” I whispered back and left the room. Heading up to my room, tears falling down my face.

Nate POV

“Why is he gone?” Y/N asked, I shrugged my shoulders. “He’s not feeling well I think.” I sat down next to her. ‘Just shoot your shot..’ I carefully placed my arm at the back of the sofa. She smiles. “I want to tell you something.” We both said at each other. I laughed. “Sorry, you can stay it first.” She says. I coughed and nodded. “Okay, I want you to know that I fancy you, and it’s okay if you don’t feel anything like that back, I understand I just want you to know,” she smiles at me. “But what if, if I do have those feelings for you?” I was taken back. “You like me?” She nods. “I really like you Nate, I’ve liked you for a while now.” I smiled back at her, my arm sliding over her shoulder, pulling her closer to me. “I have to be honest with you before I want to take this further.” I said while she looks closely at me. “Okay.” “I talked about this to Nick, he knows about how I feel about you and I know why he’s gone to his room, he likes you too..” “oh.” She was quiet, looking at her hands. “He promised me he won’t stand in the way, he will be fine I promise but I love my brother and I don’t want to lose him. Things can’t get weird and I know I ask a lot of you because your friend likes you and stuff….” She grabs my cheeks, holding me close. “Nate don’t worry, I won’t ever stand between you guys. I promise things won’t get weird.” I nod at her. “So can I kiss you know.” She giggles. “Yes of course you can.” “Good.” I pulled her closer and kissed her.

Y/N POV

I walked upstairs to Nicks room. I carefully knocked on his door and opened it. Nick was laying in his bed, smoking. “Hey.” “Hey.” I walked up to him,getting into his bed, crawling over to him. “What your doing?” He raised his eyebrows. “Chilling with my bestest friend.” I lay down next to him. “Nate told me.” He sighed. “You guys together now?” He took a drag. “No not yet, I wanted to asked you if you okay with it.” He looks at me, slightly confused. “Why?” “Because I care about you Nick, we’ve been friends for years, I don’t want to lose my friend and I don’t want my friend lose his Brother.” “I’m okay, I won’t stand between you guys, it hurts but I want you to be happy, I want my brother to be happy.” His voice slightly cracked. I grabbed his free hand, squeezing in it. “Thank you Nick, ifs there something I can do, tell me.” He nods. “I will.” I smiled at him. “I’ll leave you alone now.” He nods. “Thanks.” “No problem.” I looked at him and carefully placed a kiss on his cheek. He smiles at me, his eyes filled with tears. I hopped off his bed, leaving him alone to heal. I walked to Nate’s room, he was was sitting in the edge of his bed, looking up as I entered. “And?” “He will be fine, just needs some time.” He nods as I walked up to him, throwing my arms around his neck. “He will be fine.” “I know.”

[mejomonster]

Tumblr ate my meta agh :c it was about zhoudus novel start relationship now that I know more of fei dus pov. Oh well. Basically chapter 100 is <3. I love fei du loving when Luo wenzhou opens up to him emotionally. I love fei du wishing he could give Luo wenzhou a nice story but his childhood sucked and he likes Luo wenzhou as his family instead. I love fei du telling a "dumb youth" story of himself and of course its rhe part of his teenage years With Tao Ran and Luo Wenzhou. His happiest safest part of life:

Between the branches of the old trees that had lost all their leaves, you could see the ancient bell on top of the Drum Tower. The night was limpid.

 

The two of them had finally torn away the seriously damaged pretext, tossing aside this murder case where the murderer was evident at a glance.

 

“When I was fifteen or sixteen, I also plotted to run away with a group, though the reason was better than celebrating a Western holiday—KFC or some company like that was putting together a middle school basketball competition, and the prize was a basketball signed by an NBA celebrity, who just happened to be the basketball player I liked. So I got together a group of people, got a sick note from a classmate’s cousin who was a nurse, told my parents the school had organized a competitive summer camp, and ran around playing basketball for half a month.”

 

Fei Du: “…”

 

This was a recollection so wretched it really made you sigh in admiration.

 

“We did get the prize, and I fooled my mom by saying a classmate had brought it back from abroad.” Walking beside him through the peaceful little alley, Luo Wenzhou took his hand, felt it was cold, and gave him the still warm bag of chestnuts to hold, keeping watch out of the corner of his eye to make sure he didn’t sneak any. “Later there was a parent-teacher conference. As soon as the teacher talked to my mom, the whole thing came out. When my dad got home and heard about it he gave me a hell of thrashing.”

 

Fei Du thought that a late-stage problem child like this couldn’t be kept down with simple force.

 

“My dad, he seems pretty severe, but actually he’s very fair and reasonable,” Luo Wenzhou said. “When he got a handle on his temper, he said to me, ‘A forcibly picked melon won’t be sweet. If you don’t like going to school, then forget about it. Do what you like.”

 

Luo Wenzhou’s ridiculous stories of domestic trivialities had an unbelievable attractive force for Fei Du. Each time he occasionally said a few words like this, Fei Du felt that he’d encountered a hidden easter egg. Seeing Luo Wenzhou suddenly stop, Fei Du couldn’t resist following up. “And then what?”

 

Luo Wenzhou said, “At first I was pretty happy, thinking that the old fellow had ‘found salvation’ and changed his ways. I didn’t expect that he would ‘fairly and reasonably’ stop my senior middle Year 2 school fees and allowance.

 

“While I cut class sometimes, I wasn’t really prepared to become a dropout, so I had to go out and earn my school fees when I was on vacation. The old fart was as good as his word. He really didn’t give me a penny. I carried water barrels for people for a couple months for the sake of that basketball… Don’t laugh.”

 

If he could have preserved this story like a specimen, Fei Du felt he could have enjoyed it for half a lifetime.

 

“You always let me take the lead in telling this sort of embarrassing story.” Luo Wenzhou poked him with his elbow. “Your turn.”

 

Fei Du: “…”

 

There really was nothing fun about his whole endless upbringing, but he couldn’t bear to spoil the mood, so he had to rack his brains for a good while, finally managing to pull something out of his memories that would oblige.

 

“All right,” Fei Du said, “I’ll tell you a secret.”

 

Luo Wenzhou indicated that he was all ears.

 

“Around the Spring Festival one year, I went to pay a New Year’s call on a friend.” Fei Du paused, then said, “I saw a bicycle downstairs at his house, a racing bike with a gearshift and an especially flashy paint job, with a pattern like a poisonous snake. It seemed to be calling out to me.”

 

Luo Wenzhou somehow felt that the bike he’d described sounded familiar.

 

Fei Du licked his lips, very cautiously arranging his diction. “So I left a New Year’s present for it…by glueing its back wheel with chewing gum.”

 

Luo Wenzhou’s footsteps abruptly paused—he’d remembered. During the Spring Festival one year, Tao Ran had been unable to go back to his hometown because his duty schedule had been full, so Luo Wenzhou had ridden his bike over with presents to represent the citizens of Yan City in delivering comfort to the police comrade.

 

Before going, he’d thought of a certain little whelp with no one to look after him and had brought along a limited-edition game machine to give to Tao Ran to pass on to him.

 

In the end, he’d stayed twenty minutes at Tao Ran’s house, and someone had messed around with his bike, which he’d left downstairs—some wretched child had stuck a few small firecrackers to his back wheel with chewing gum. Luo Wenzhou hadn’t noticed it when he’d gotten on the bike and reached out his foot to peddle—

 

And he’d nearly been launched into orbit by the explosions!

 

Maintaining his smile, Fei Du guiltily took a small step back.

 

“Fei Du!”

 

President Fei reaped the consequences of lascivious activity. In order to entertain a beauty, he voluntarily gave himself up to the authorities as one possessed; it was too late for regrets.

 

He didn’t receive any “leniency” for his confession. Luo Wenzhou grabbed him and gave him a good seeing to. He was pushed against a wall from behind.

 

Fei Du said, “Wait…wait a minute.”

[leopoldainter]

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[bittersweettweet]

17

Ah, the joys of test season and the struggle to get out of bed. Yesterday was Friday, a glorious day when you can just laze around, but alas, the call of the exams beckons. And to add insult to injury, all the breakfast has vanished into thin air! Thank goodness for hot water and sugar, the savior of those mornings when the bread and cheese have mysteriously disappeared.

In the midst of this chaotic morning, Aunti Mehran arrives with a burst of excitement. She has stumbled upon a newspaper ad for a marvelous house at an unbeatable price. The mere mention of the house's size, "362 square meters in Yosef Abad, the nicer part of Tehran," sends our imaginations soaring. Perhaps it's time for a new adventure, a bigger and better home! With Aunti's enthusiasm reaching its peak, her high-pitched voice fills the air, and my mischievous dad can't resist mimicking her and adding some lighthearted teasing.

With dreams of a grand new abode dancing in our heads, the whole family sets off to see the house. After a short 20-minute drive, you arrive at the end of the alley, only to be greeted by a disheartening sight—garbage-strewn steps leading down. Clearly, this house is not off to a good start. As fate would have it, a departing family casts a disgusted look, and their expressions say it all. The house is a sad relic of the past, and we quickly abandon any thoughts of making it our own.

On our way back to the car, we passed numerous eager individuals heading towards the ill-fated house. Being the good Samaritans we were, we can't bear to let them suffer the same disappointment. So, with a knowing glance, you point out the house to them in the opposite direction, assuring them it's not worth the visit. And just like that, a collective U-turn is made, sparing them from a lackluster house tour.

Safavieh Bazar was initially on the agenda, but then I unleash a battle cry, "Let's go to the zoo!" Excitement filled the air as everyone unanimously agreed to the change in plans. Off we went, embarking on a wild and wonderful adventure among the animal kingdom. From majestic white peacocks to African bulls with horns that could rival a bicycle wheel, every creature seems to have its own unique charm. And of course, there was the monkey with a surprising dog-like bark, providing a comical twist to the zoo experience.

However, not all was well in the reptile and amphibian department. As you approach the snake enclosures and tortoise ponds, a sad realization dawns upon you. The snakes appear lifeless, and you suspect they might have left this mortal coil hungry. Even the tortoises seem to have met a similar fate, with one unfortunate soul looking like it dried out with its head sticking out of the water. It's a somber moment amidst the excitement, reminding us of the circle of life.

After bidding farewell to the animal kingdom, we make a quick stop at Safavieh Bazar. Oh, the temptation of beautiful things! The displays dazzle our eyes, but alas, no purchases are made. It's a testament to our family's willpower and the realization that adventures and memories are worth more than material possessions! Or it was that we had no money!

Back home, the evidence of our impromptu escapades greets us. Unmade beds and breakfast remnants scattered on the ground serve as a reminder that cleaning duties await. As a team, you embark on a cleaning frenzy, transforming chaos into order. With the chores completed, it's time to relax and recharge. Tea was brewed, We had delicious food, and the house once again becomes a sanctuary of comfort and warmth.

Reflecting on the day before, I confess to having "winged it" on my test today, bravely made up my own answers. Ah, the spontaneous genius of exam improvisation! But don't forget, studying Farsi and grammar is still essential to avoid the wrath of my teacher. Melody, her recent vaccination has taken a toll, leaving her tired and quiet. It's crucial for her to rest and recover, and I'll be the diligent sibling who studies hard and keeps the grades in check.

And so, as the day draws to a close, I find myself ready to tackle the challenges of tomorrow, armed with humor, determination, and a desire to make every adventure count.

12/05/1983

[capricorn-0mnikorn]

Five (5) 🖐🏻Disabled People from History that I wish people knew at a 5-year-old’s level

History is complex, and we need to discuss it with a far more nuanced view than we do.

But Disability History is lacking at even this most basic level, and you have to start somewhere. So:

1) Stephen Farfler

Was a paraplegic watch-maker. In 1655, he made a three-wheeled hand-driven cart for himself, inventing the crank, chain and gear mechanism that is now part of all modern bicycles.

[Image description: a contemporary black and white illustration of Stephen Farfler using the three-wheeled hand cycle he’d invented, demonstrating how the hand crank turns the front wheel. Description ends.]

2) Harriet Tubman

Harriet Tubman was severely injured when she defended a fellow slave from an overseer, and was hit in the head with a heavy metal object. Although this caused her pain and dizzy spells for the rest of her life, it did not stop her from working becoming a “conductor” on the Underground Railroad, nor did it stop her from being the first woman to lead an armed expedition in the American Civil War.

3) Louis Braille

Blind since childhood because of an accident, Louis Braille invented the tactile writing system named for him at the age of 15.

4) Margarete Steiff

Margarete Steiff contracted polio when she was a year and a half old. Her sisters and neighborhood friends helped her get to school by pulling her in a hand cart. When she grew up, she had a dress-making business, and made stuffed animals for children. Her most famous stuffed animal was a bear with jointed limbs that her nephew designed. It was the first Teddy Bear.

5) Justin Dart Jr.

He contracted polio and had to use a wheelchair in 1947, just before going to university. Even though he earned his degrees in history and education, and wanted to become a teacher, the university wouldn’t let him have his teaching certificate, because he was disabled. Many years later, he was appointed vice chair of the National Council on Disability, and led other government councils after that. He toured the USA with his wife twice, visiting each of the 50 states, and meeting with disabled people to learn about their struggles and how they were fighting for their rights. He helped write the language of the Americans with Disabilities Act, which was signed into law in 1990

 ---

There are many more things I wish people knew about, such as the intersection between class and disability, and between race and disability, and how the ADA isn’t strong enough to protect disabled people’s rights in the way they need to be protected.

But these are five reference-points that I figure are child friendly.

[actualbird]

each nxx boy was Not Like The Other Kids back in elementary to middle school but for like, wildly different reasons

wc: 889

luke pearce: there is a violence in this child somehow

luke is a very much friendly boy but his main issue is that hes ridiculously codependent on mc. one time in middle school she was absent and at home resting off a bad flu and luke looked like he wanted to set the world on fire because how DARE GERMS DO THIS TO HER!!

he also keeps getting his face busted up somehow, it's because he does stupid shit like jump over 4 steps on the stairs at once or he wanted to do a sick wheelie on his bicycle. but the other kids dont know that, they assume he fights bears on the weekends because sometimes luke can get Scary at the drop of a hat, usually when somebody is dumb enough to insult or bully mc, and the nature of kids is to blow everything out of proportion. i heard luke pearce created a hole in the ozone layer. i heard he killed a man with THAT THUMB!

teachers pick up on that hidden energy beneath his straight A grades and sunshiney smile and, to joke-ify this, a text post that applies to luke pearce

-

artem wing: awkward to the point many untrue assumptions are made

he works so much, TOO MUCH. many teachers have told his mother "hes a lovely student. please tell him to relax, though"

artem also has the added buff of being intimidating intense even as a 10 year old and he DOESNT MEAN TO he just does NOT know how to interact with the others

i see teen!artem being in a hoodie with the hood up most of the time, hes That Introvert but also hoodies are just nice if one is the type of person who finds comfort from being more covered, clothing wise, and artem seems to be that type of person.

however, the constant hoodie does make him seem even more intimidating and also like, MYSTERIOUS...

[cn server spoilers] it's canon that artem got enrolled into high school a little later into the semester and everybody had their cliques already and he was awkward and didnt know how to get his own friends. nobody treated him badly tho. but he just like, looked SO AWKWARD ISOLATED VAGUELY MISERABLE that many teachers thought he was being INTENSELY BULLIED. i posit this has been a pattern ever since artem was in kindergarten

teacher: artem, are the other kids being mean to you? :(

artem: no? what?

teacher: oh you poor thing :(

artem: huh?

-

marius von hagen: rich kid honor student with a too-cool family

hes extrovert bonanza and also sometimes he likes being the class clown eventually but he puts ppl off bc 1) von hagen and 2) nobody has seen him even look remotely interested in any class sans art and yet he keeps acing everything, it's NOT FAIR

marius' academic excellence + his status = sparks jealousy and regular childlike hatred in some classmates. it's canon that he got picked on by the other kids sometimes and yep, he Does, but any and all bullying simply makes him work so much harder out of SPITE. may cause a vicious cycle of him spite achieving and others getting more and more miffed kJBKSJGS

also kids r always staring in barely concealed awe whenever giann picks him up from school in a REALLY COOL CAR and giann looks REALLY COOL, COOL ADULT VIBES, and marius is always like GIANN!!! DONT RUFFLE MY HAIR, IM NOT A KID ANYMORE!!!

actually u know that scene in Into The Spiderverse? this one?

giann and marius. it's one of marius' most embarassing moments in his life but nobody picks on him for it because giann is just, and i cannot stress this enough, SO COOL

-

vyn richter: PEAK Weird Kid representation

of them all, i think vyn would be the best rep for Weird Kids, he was going into the forest to collect pebbles and leaves to dump in a bucket and stir together with rainwater to make a potion but only for his favorite horses at the stable (which the horses drink bc they love vyn). he'd make up elaborate stories for imaginary friends because there werent too many people he liked talking to growing up and this is how he cultivates a habit of talking to himself. also i think he like, Doesnt Blink Much, like a frigging owl. it's mostly bc vyn likes observing but it unnerves the other kids IMMENSELY

all the boys are academic over achievers but vyn REALLY takes the cake because he gets into bougie extracurriculars too: archery, fencing, classical piano. it's wholly impressive but also intimidating kJBJKSD child prodigies, i figure, must be difficult for other kids to connect with. vyn is simultaneously relieved and sad about this bc on one hand, hes scared that tho others will turn on him. but on the other hand, hes a lonely child

back to Weird Kid representation: remember that one scene in lilo and stitch where lilo puts a bunch of fork voodoo dolls into a pickle jar and shakes em up? thats vyn.

vyn's father: son, what...what are you doing?

vyn, shaking the jar VIGOROUSLY: my classmates need to be punished

[equustenebris]

New drabble! This kind of just poured out basically all at once, lol. This is for modern Topolino Newton, I've got his first story translated here for the unfamiliar: https://equustenebris.tumblr.com/post/658572502503735296/hello-duck-community-i-come-bearing-a-gift-so

Newton Gearloose has a bully. For Whumptober 2021. Prompt: "Who did this to you?"

Three. Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones But...

He gave a final sniffle as he rounded the corner to his uncle's house, trying to pull himself back together before his uncle saw him crying. The punches and kicks had been painful, sure, but it was the humiliation more than anything -- and the overwhelming fear of facing Jax again tomorrow.

He'd always known there was no way he'd win in a fight. He was Newton Gearloose, inventor, not -- like -- Newton Gearloose, boxer, or something. He just wasn't built for it, and besides, he'd always firmly believed brains were better than brawn any day. Still, when Jax snatched him out of the hallway to shake him down for his chemistry project results, he'd made his very best attempt to fight back, but Jax was built like an eighth grader, and all he'd really managed to do was make him angrier. He gingerly touched his fingertips to his swollen eye, hoping it didn't look nearly as bad as it felt.

He didn't have any idea what he'd done to get on Jax's bad side -- they only had one class together, and despite his natural aptitude for it, it wasn't as though Newton was particularly well-liked by their chemistry teacher anyway. (A few too many beakers shattered, chemicals spilled, labs blown up -- frankly, he was amazed they still let him do the hands-on work.)

But for whatever reason, Jax had apparently decided that Newton was his new target -- and he evidently had a lot of free time to spend making Newton's life as miserable as possible. It had started off with little things, stealing his pencils, getting in his way in line at the water fountain, knocking the books out of his hands -- all of that was manageable, and honestly Newton was often so distracted by his own ideas for new inventions that he barely noticed. But when it went from the annoying to the physical -- snatching him from the hallway just after the last bell to rough him up -- well, that he noticed.

He opened up the front door slowly, peeking around in the hopes that his uncle was down in the lab, and he'd have a chance to try to clean himself up before his uncle saw him. Apparently, today was really not his lucky day, because Gyro was at the sink, washing up some dishes.

"Hi, Newton," he chirped brightly, "how was sch -- Newton?" He dropped the dish back into the sink as he caught sight of his nephew's black eye, immediately swiveling around. Newton cringed, hunching his shoulders as if he could make himself small enough to disappear. "Your face! What happened?"

"Nothing, Uncle, I'm fine," he tried, attempting to slip away to the bathroom.

"You certainly are not! Who did this to you?"

Little Helper was already at his side with an ice pack, holding it up above his tiny head for Newton to take. Embarrassed, he only looked away instead.

"Nobody, Uncle, it's -- it's fine," he tried again, cheeks flushed and burning. But Gyro wasn't so quick to give up, quickly kneeling in front of him.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere else? Your arms? Your tail?" he asked, lifting Newton's shirt to check his belly, gently snatching his wrists to examine his arms, and just generally not helping the utter humiliation burning in the pit of his stomach.

"I'm fine," Newton snapped again, pulling his arms away.

"Newton." Gyro took him by the shoulders, gazing into his eyes. Reluctantly, the boy looked back to him, biting his lip to try to hold the persistent tears at bay. "You can tell me. What happened?"

Despite his best efforts, a single hot tear slipped down his cheek -- and then it was all over, the floodgates wide open as he wrapped his arms around his uncle's neck, trying to choke back sobs as he explained: all the multitude of small things he ignored for months, one after another, and now finally, the big things he couldn't. It came tumbling out at once in a flurry, months of pain and fear he hadn't realized he had been carrying. Gyro just held him, gently rubbing his back, occasionally giving him soft, preening nips, trying to calm him down.

When he was finally finished, Gyro nodded firmly, intent. "We'll go to the principal." Newton immediately shook his head, wincing.

"No, Uncle! It'll just get worse if you tell anyone! Principal Schnauzer doesn't even like me, he doesn't care, and even if he did he can't watch me all the time! It wouldn't be safe."

"Well, we at least have to tell your mom and dad," he mumbled, rubbing Newton's back again.

Again, Newton shook his head. "Oh, please, no, Uncle! This is already humiliating enough, I don't want them to know, too!"

"We have to do something, Newton! I can't send you back to school like this!"

"I can handle it myself," Newton mumbled, gazing vaguely over his shoulder towards his treehouse, and his own secret lab, hidden away from his uncle. He had no idea what, exactly, but surely he could come up with some sort of invention to deal with this on his own. His uncle, however, seemed less than convinced.

"Maybe I could invent something for you? You know, something that could keep you safe, maybe like some sort of...repelling ray, or maybe a robot bodyguard, or --"

"I'll be fine, Uncle," Newton mumbled, cringing. The last thing he needed was his uncle interfering -- whether his inventions worked or didn't, either way, it could only add to his humiliation. Really, showing up the next day with a robot bodyguard? "I can just -- I'll handle it."

Gyro stood, scratching the back of his neck. "Are you sure, Newton?"

The boy said nothing, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. On the living room wall, unnoticed, a large bee -- too large -- softly beat its wings.

---

The next morning's bike ride to school felt more like a death march. Newton and the triplets walked the last stretch, coming up on the bike rack just outside the school.

"Are you sure you don't want us to help you, Newton?" Huey asked, frowning worriedly.

"Yeah, we're pretty tough -- we can take him on!" Dewey offered. Newton only shook his head, polishing off the last of his breakfast apple.

"No, I don't want to get you guys caught up in this too," he muttered, tossing the core into the garbage can as they locked up their bicycles. "Besides, it's just going to get worse if I can't handle him on my own."

"Huh? What's going on over there?" Louie wondered aloud, finally noticing the large crowd of students on the school's front lawn. Curious, the boys pushed their way forward, slipping through the crowd to approach the large oak tree that everyone seemed to be gathered around.

"--do you mean, you have no idea how he got there? Someone did it! He must have been here since last night! You've got camera footage, don't you?!"

"I can't explain it, Principal Schnauzer, but I already reviewed it and there's just...nothing. It looks like it's all been scrubbed clean somehow."

"Well cut him down from there, and get his parents and the police on the phone! And get these kids out of here, already! Oh, this is going to be such a mess... You! Get to class! There's nothing to see here!"

Newton and the triplets finally pushed their way to the front, stumbling out in front of the oak tree. It took no more than a split second for Principal Schnauzer to spot them in the crowd, and with a fury Newton hadn't seen before (which, frankly, was saying something for the schnauzer), he abruptly whipped around, pointing directly at him. "You!"

The other students immediately backed away, leaving Newton standing on his own, frozen in shock as the principal stomped closer. Snarling, voice low and dangerous, he shoved his snout nearly against Newton's beak. "I don't know how you managed to pull this off, but I know you're behind this somehow. This fell out of his pocket."

He shoved a slip of paper into Newton's grip, but Newton's attention was elsewhere -- slowly, his eyes trailed up to the oak tree, finally seeing what everyone else had been staring at. There, Jax dangled from a branch at the top of the tree, still dressed in pajamas, hogtied, terrified sobs muffled by the thick gag in his mouth.

He just stared for a moment, slack-jawed. A tiny yelp from Dewey, evidently reading over his shoulder, brought him back to reality and he looked down at the piece of paper in his hands. There, scrawled in his uncle's tell-tale handwriting, was a hastily written note.

He won't be bothering you anymore, Newton.

Let me know if I need to pay anyone else a visit.

--MD

"This isn't over!" Principal Schnauzer raged, swiping the paper back out of Newton's hands before storming away. The triplets exchanged worried looks, but Newton just stood at the base of the oak tree, too stunned to move, as his (now former, he supposed) bully dangled helplessly above his head.

[yellowocaballero]

Not Your Queer-Coded Disney Villain: Annabelle & Web!Jon Ficlet

Got bored again today and forced myself to write something that wasn’t gratuitously long. Set in the same universe (or, one of the universes) as The Convention on Chronographer Lane, but it’s completely unnecessary to have read that one before this. 

Content warning for (apparent and fake) predation of a student by a teacher, body horror, and spiders. REVERSE content warning for A PSYCH 101 LECTURE WRITTEN BY SOMEONE WHO WAS A TA FOR PSYCH 101. ACCURATE SCIENCE, BITCHES. 

“What am I turning into?” Annabelle asked, after a half-second of rapid thought. “Who are you? And what do spiders have to do with any of this?”

Jon smiled again broadly, grey eyes dancing with a barely hidden delight. “You’re fully aware that these are all the same question.”

“Then answer them. You said you’re here to help me. Then help me.” Annabelle narrowed her eyes. “We’ll negotiate a price later.”

“This one is a freebie,” Jon said. He leaned back, face fading into the shadow of the dim yellow light of the hanging light. “You’re turning into something much akin to myself.”

In the darkness, Annabelle saw Jon open his eyes. And his eyes. And his eyes. And his eyes…

Annabelle was sleeping through Psych again.

In her defense, she was really tired. The nightmares had been getting worse every day, and yesterday she hadn’t gotten more than forty minutes of sleep without jolting up in the middle of the night. She had flipped on the light five times during the night, hysterically convinced that bugs were crawling over her and earning the eternal ire of her roommate. Whatever - Irene would forgive her once she bought her an iced coffee from that campus shop she liked. If Annabelle gave it to her later at night, she’d stay up later and would be less likely to bitch when Annabelle inevitably made a stink at three am again.

It didn’t matter. Psych was tediously easy anyway. Not that everything wasn’t tedious, but there were few things more boring than listening to the drone of Mr. Sims’ voice. She had no idea how that guy had a fanclub. Emmanuela Odugawa had asked her if she thought that he recited Piaget’s developmental stages in bed. Barf. 

Thankfully, Annabelle had mastered the art of sleeping with her eyes open in class and barely aware enough to recognize when somebody called her name a decade ago, and she ruthlessly used this skill now. She dropped into a half-doze, and was only startled into awareness when she heard the word that had been running in a nonstop track loop through her mind for the past month. 

“Phobia: an extreme or irrational fear or aversion to something.” Mr. Sims adjusted his glasses, pressing a button on his laptop that advanced the slides. “It’s an interesting definition, in my opinion. Like many things in Psychology, it is almost infuriatingly vague. How do you define ‘extreme’? How do you define ‘irrational’? Oftentimes, that label is determined by society, science, and our therapists. However, I believe you can argue that phobias are the most rational thing of all.”

Annabelle rubbed her arms, suddenly cold. These auditorium classrooms were always freezing. 

“The concept of aversion is heavily rooted in evolution and biology. Anyone here ever eat any bad shrimp?” He didn’t wait for a response. “The smell of seafood probably made you sick for weeks afterwards. Our bodies are primed to detect poison, just as they are to detect danger. Phobias rooted in modern, abstract concepts - clowns, elevators, airplanes - are easy to extinguish. But phobias rooted in real, present, perpetual dangers, the sort of dangers that threatened the lives of cavemen, are far more difficult to ignore.” 

Despite herself, Annabelle found herself awake. She found herself listening. 

“Snakes. Heights. The Dark. Dogs, bears, large animals. Storms, driving, insects.” Mr. Sims’ looked up at the auditorium, and Annabelle could have sworn that he was looking right at her, he was looking at her. Annabelle’s breath caught, her heart thumping in her chest - a little differently than it used to. “Spiders.” 

A horrible clicking echoed in Annabell’s ears. She was afraid that it was her. 

Then he looked away, and the spell was broken. “Phobias are one of the most powerful and motivational forces in human evolution. Like mental illnesses, pack bonds, and emotional needs, the perceived weaknesses of the human mind can frequently be some of the most powerful forces that allow the survival of the human species. It isn’t a bug, it’s a feature. I find that a useful way to think of humanity, and of ourselves: that our weaknesses can make us very strong indeed. Next slide…”

If Mr. Sims said anything after that, Annabelle didn’t hear it.

She didn’t pay any attention to anything he said until the end of class, when she shrugged on her cute little silver backpack and merged into the stream of students filtering out of the classroom. A few students had stayed behind to talk to Mr. Sims, and he appeared wrapped in conversation with the giggling girls, but somehow he picked her out of the thick crowd. 

“Annabelle?” Mr. Sims asked. “Stay after, please.”

So she leaned against the long sweep of desks, left with nothing to do but squint at Mr. Sims as he spoke with another student about the requirements for the upcoming paper, wondering why he looked so familiar. 

All of the other students had assumed he was in his late twenties - “total DILF”, they all inanely assured her - but Annabelle wasn’t so sure. Despite the already graying hair, small glasses, and severe expression, she really wouldn’t put him any older than 23.

Maybe his greying temples were hair dye. Or stress did that to you, right? Annabelle squinted. But when Annabelle looked closer, if she really focused, then she really wasn’t sure it was his hair color at all. 

So she looked closer. Her eyes had been itching for the past week. She had caught her skin flaking and peeling, and instead of pink raw skin underneath there was hard and scratchy black necrosis. Her eyes itched now, as if they were striving to split apart, and if Annabelle only let them then they would burst. And as her eyes itched in a horrible, visceral pain, she thought that maybe the white at Mr. Sims’ temples was the thin, sticky webs of spider-silk. 

“Annabelle? Are you alright?”

She snapped back to attention, fairly embarrassed. She had been zoning out more in the past month than she had her entire life. Her older siblings had said that college would be rough, but she hadn’t known it would be this rough. This wasn’t like her. None of this was like her. 

“I’m great,” Annabelle said reflexively. All of the other students were gone, and Mr. Sims was staring at her over his glasses. “Sorry. Is this about my test…?”

“No. You did quite well on your test. Best in the class, actually.” Mr. Sims smiled at her, as if this was a compliment or important. “Is that why you’ve been so bored in class?”

Ah. Busted. A rare thing for Annabelle. She affected a faux-abashed posture and expression. “Sorry, Mr. Sims. I’ve been staying up ‘til two every morning trying to get my homework done on time. If I’m ever going to go to med school…”

“I thought you were a poli sci major,” Mr. Sims said cheerfully. Annabelle fought a shudder - how did he know so much about her? This class had 200 students.

“Double major,” Annabelle said blithely. “I’m sorry about sleeping in class, I’ll manage my time better. It won’t happen again.”

“Yes, yes.” Mr. Sims waved her apology away, as if that wasn’t what he had been looking for. Then what had he been looking for? “I’m afraid I had somewhat of an ulterior motive for speaking to you today.” He leaned in a little, pulling his glasses down, and his foggy grey eyes - same color as the grey at his temples - focused solely on her. Annabelle made her eyes bigger, and she leaned in too, adjusting her posture so she looked smaller. “You’ve been doing very well in class. I actually wanted to invite you to a meeting. About...oh, your potential for med school. I’m excited to see you succeed. I think you could do quite well in whatever field you choose, and I’d like to help. It would be just us, of course.”

Ding ding ding. Annabelle affected a giggle. “I could totally use the help! Like, in your office? Or, like...lunch, or…?”

“I was thinking dinner, actually,” Mr. Sims smiled. “How’s Bombay Bicycle Club?”

Restaurant and bar, with a casual yet dignified atmosphere. Not formal enough to put up anybody’s guard, but nice enough that a freshman girl could feel treated and be impressed. Most importantly, it was popular among the businessman crowd and almost nobody on campus visited it. Annabelle used it herself to meet up with her sugar daddies all the time. 

For a brief, strange moment, Annabelle felt as if he did - but of course he didn’t. But it wasn’t impossible. But if he knew, then why wasn’t he blackmailing her? Was the blackmail for later, once he got her alone? This was probably a power play, getting her off balance by insinuating that he knows but not being explicit about it. He’d probably pull out the blackmail, ‘I’ll ruin your reputation you slut etc’, once they actually got there. Not that he could - Annabelle had contingency plans - but she would have to be careful to actually record him propositioning her anyway. Worst case scenario they had a MAD situation, best case she could squeeze him. Probably not for very much money, since grad students were poor as dirt, and she didn’t exactly need him to boost her grades...get him to slip her the test key and sell the test key? That could work. She could probably get him to strategically cut grades, which was a service that Annabelle could probably sell to students with a grudge…

But then Mr. Sims smiled at her, as if he knew what she was thinking, and Annabelle realized that she had been silent too long. She wanted to come off as panicked, maybe desperate, definitely flattered. 

“Sure!” Annabelle said, barely having to feign the anxious creak in her voice. “What time? I have night classes, so…”

“Next Friday at six,” Mr. Sims said instantly. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too.” Annabelle affected Smile #35 - shy virgin. Mr. Sims’ grin widened. Annabelle silently put aside the ‘Catholic schoolgirl’ outfit for Friday. “See you then!”

She turned around, gave him a shy smile, and bounced off. She had just opened the heavy door out of the room when she heard him speak again, freezing her in her tracks. 

“Oh, Annabelle - how is the study with Dr. Bates going?”

And his question panicked her so much, made her heart change rhythm and made her skin itch as if something was straining to come out of it, made her eyes itch and crawl and burst, that every calculated move went out the window. She didn’t answer his question, didn’t even give an excuse - she just ran out the door, bright purple vintage boots thumping against the linoleum, breath catching in a chest where she was no longer sure she even had ribs. 

Most of her was already calculating. She was already two months into uni, she had to start establishing her power base. The minute her sorority accepted her she’d have greater access to money, popularity, and influence, but she needed reach with the administration too.  Mr. Sims was her in. This was a good thing. 

But part of her was disappointed, because she had liked him, and she felt a little used. Feelings of disgust, as strong and vivid as in her nightmares, rose in her chest. She squished far down in her chest, familiar with the feeling and effortlessly repressing it.  

Annabelle was good with disgusting things. 

She had another session with the Arachnophobia study on Monday. Which went fine. It was fine! She didn’t wake up that morning so sick with nerves that she almost threw up. She didn’t stare at her email inbox for thirty minutes, begging herself to cancel and drop out of the study. Nope. 

She distracted herself by befriending all of her roommate’s friends and dropping faux-concerned gossip about how cranky and anxious Irene’s been lately, have you noticed she’s been blaming me for how badly she’s sleeping? It was really super sad, frowny face, how do you think I can help, frowny face frowny face frowny face? 

So Annabelle went to the Arachnophobia study (it was fine), had increasingly realistic and vivid nightmares about her chest caving in and a nest of spiders crawling out of her chest and eating her eyes, and slept through class. It was all fine. 

She should have gone to Oxford. It still made her a little bitter. She had been smart enough to get in, but she hadn’t been smart enough to get the full scholarship. She couldn’t afford it, so instead she was stuck in University of Surrey, where dreams went to die. Future politicians should go to Oxford. Yeah, Surrey had some peers and Parliament members, whatever. She needed better, Oxford and awards and money. From there, from some swotty school or another, it was easy street. Annabelle deserved easy street, and she deserved Oxford, and it just wasn’t fair -

After another three am nightmare, Annabelle blearily scrolled through her sibling groupchat. Barney was doing great in med school. Tricia had posted her maternity photos. Wow, look at that, Robin had gotten a commendation at his law firm. Whatever. 

No hope of distinguishing herself in the world. No hope of distinguishing herself in her stupid family. She was smarter than any of her siblings, brighter and better than those doctors and lawyers and accountants, but nobody cared. Mum and Dad were living their retirement in comfort and cooing over their grandchildren, finally rewarded in old age for all their hard work. 

If Annabelle dropped off the face of the earth, nobody would even notice. 

It should have been a depressing thought. The idea that nobody cared about her, not really, that nobody knew the real her. But somehow it just made her heart beat faster in excitement. 

The idea of disappearing from all of this, of cutting herself free from a thousand threads that brought her plummeting down to earth...in the cold hours of that dark morning, to an eighteen year old terrified and alone in uni, it was a siren song. 

It was a siren song that sounded, oddly, like the chittering and scuttling of a thousand tiny bodies, but Annabelle was learning to look beyond that. 

By the time next Friday rolled around, Annabelle was considering breaking her self-imposed rule against drugs and popping a Xanax. But that wouldn’t help her exhaustion, the persistent bone-deep frazzled sensation of going a week on almost no sleep whatsoever, so she settled for an espresso as she wriggled herself into a tight, slinky plaid dress paired with a puffy olive green windbreaker. She wasn’t sure if she owned any clothing that was made after 1990 - a habit born from a childhood of shopping from thirst stores, and continued voluntarily into high school when she started making her own money online fleecing suckers. It was her, so much as anything was. 

“Hot date?” Irene asked, bending over her Physics textbook without looking up. She glanced at her vibrating phone, scowling. Poor baby - her friends were staging an intervention. “New guy or old guy?”

“New guy,” Annabelle said vaguely, carefully picking out a bold red lipstick - or did that seem too forward? Should she go for a natural look? “If I’m not back by midnight call the police. I’ll text you a picture of his car.”

“Roger.” Irene flipped a page of her textbook, oblivious to the fact that she was one of the few people Annabelle genuinely liked. Not enough not to screw with her, but she liked her. “He’s not good enough for you, something something.”

“Darling,” Annabelle said, winking into the mirror, “nobody is.”

She hoped Irene believed it. She didn’t. 

It wasn’t a frequent occurrence that Annabelle wished she was stupid, but today she wished she was stupid enough to take a power nap during her ten minute Uber ride. Her mind felt frazzled and frayed, as if it had been taken out of her scalp and spread out with a rolling pin onto a floured countertop. She felt as if she was melting, her vision spiralling into fractals or blurring out. She wanted to sleep. God, she’d do anything for some sleep -

So she blared Bad Romance in her frayed earbuds instead, clutching her iPod Touch tightly, pulling herself together. Gaga, give her strength. 

By the time that she tipped her driver, effortlessly found Mr. Sims’ car in the parking lot of Bombay Bicycle Club and texted Irene the license plate (Volkswagen, obviously), she had dragged herself into focus. She stapled on her confident posture and walk - no, we’re going with ingenue today, make it shy and hesitant - and slipped inside the restaurant, making a show of holding her clutch tight to her chest and looking around with big eyes. 

She saw him instantly. He was sitting in a corner booth, head down and texting on his phone with a half-smile. The corner booth was poorly lit, light dampened by the wood panelling and soft leather seats, and half of his face was draped in shadow. 

Great. She had even arrived ten minutes early just so she could pick a brightly lit, intimate little table in the center of the room. This guy - he was almost like her. He was almost like her, but he was better. 

Annabelle fought the urge to grind her teeth. She smiled instead, waving cheerfully until he raised his head. He smiled back at her, wriggling his fingers, and Annabelle wove around the tables until she could slide into the seat across from him. 

“This is cozy!” She said brightly. “Thank you so much for inviting me out, Mr. Sims. It’s been ages since I got away from my books -”

“Oh, cut that shit out,” Mr. Sims said, bored. “I’m not going to sleep with you.”

Annabelle’s mind shut down. Error 404, blue screen of death. 

“I’m sorry,” she said pleasantly, smile frozen on her face. “What?”

But Mr. Sims just shrugged listlessly, slumping against the cushioned wall. His expression was no longer fond, indulgent, haughty. He just looked bored now, as if he was too tired and underpaid to deal with eighteen year olds. “I don’t want to sit through this entire dinner fending off flirting. We have actual business to talk about, and I am uninterested in beating around the bush when there’s no point. You aren’t even subtle.”

“Excuse me -” Annabelle started, enraged, but Mr. Sims put up a hand and cut her off. 

The change was instant. On a dime, Mr. Sims straightened his posture, swept a finger through his hair to transform it from slicked back professor type to windswept, adopted a friendly and casual expression, and leaned in as if he was happy and excited to be sitting with Annabelle. In a moment he dropped ten years. Barely a second after his transformation the waiter approached them, holding a notepad, and Annabelle realized with a start that he had noticed the waiter coming before she did. 

“How are you two doing tonight?” the waiter asked politely, smiling at the both of them in a rote routine that Annabelle remembered from her own days waitressing. 

“Doing great!” Mr. Sims said, and even his accent was different, closely matching her own. He glanced back at Annabelle, nothing but open and friendly. “Mum says get whatever you want, dork. It’s on her bill, so let’s run her out of house and home.”

Instinctually, Annabelle shot back, “Aren’t you old enough to take me out to eat with your own money, loser?”

“Not with your stomach!” Mr. Sims laughed, and the waiter chuckled along too. Mr. Sims effortlessly rapped out an order for the waiter, before Annabelle even got a chance to look at the menu, and when she floundered Mr. Sims just rolled his eyes and ordered for her too. It was, somehow, her favorite food. 

He waited for the waiter to move onto the next table, eyeing him carefully, before he let the persona drop. Mr. Sims sagged again, dropping the friendly act, sizing her up from half-lidded eyes. 

“How did he even believe that,” Annabelle said flatly. “We don’t look anything alike.”

“White people will believe anything,” Mr. Sims said, rolling his eyes. “I have the Belgian government convinced I’m an Iraqi scientist and most high profile Australian celebrities think I’m Egyptian royalty.”

“...does Egypt have -”

“Nope.”

Annabelle was beginning to feel a little like the star actress in the school play who got upstaged in every way by the villain’s performance. Nobody did what she did. Nobody did what she did, but better. 

“Don’t feel insecure,” Mr. Sims said, as if he could read her mind. “I’m a good actor, and I’m excellent at reading people. But I can’t plan or plot like you do. I’m shit at thinking three steps ahead, much less thirty. You can keep plots and schemes going for years - decades, even, if I were to guess. I’m not sure how someone as competent as you can have self-esteem issues.”

Annabelle bristled. “You try having nobody care about you for - how do you even know that shit about me?” Something terrible occurred to her. “Are you some kind of stalker, Mr. Sims?”

Mr. Sims shuddered in real disgust. “It’s Jon. And no, of course not. You just aren’t as subtle as you think you are.”

Yes, she was. She was subtle to everyone on the planet - everyone save, maybe, Jon. Annabelle narrowed her eyes. “What do you want?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Jon said immediately. 

“Liar. Everybody wants something.”

“I’m here altruistically,” Jon said, the perfect picture of innocence. “Really. I’m here to help you, Annabelle.”

“You are stalking me.” Annabelle leaned forward, but Sims didn’t move. “Are you even a real graduate student?”

“Absolutely not. I’m twenty three, I got my Psych degree last year and I’ve been bouncing odd jobs since.” Jon shrugged, as Annabelle felt silently vindicated. Nothing about this man acted like a twenty three year old - she remembered her siblings at twenty-three, there was nothing adult about them - but it was probably just another persona. She wondered how far she’d have to scratch to get to the real Jon Sims. 

“So you were just at Surrey to spy on me,” Annabelle said slowly. “I don’t know what country you’re from, but in England that’s definitely stalking.”

“I’d call it scouting,” Jon said. The waiter dropped by to place their drinks on the table - Jon had gotten a mule for himself, and he had ordered water for Annabelle in a move uncharacteristic for a sketchy guy. He waited until the waiter left to continue. “Call me a recruiter.”

“For who? What kind of job recruiter teaches a class for two months just to get to me?”

“How’s your study with Dr. Blake going, Annabelle?” Jon said, almost randomly, and Annabelle shut up. He must have seen something in her eyes, because a sharp little grin stretched in the corner of his narrow and sharp face. “Thought so. What do you dream of, Annabelle? In the cold corners of night, what fears come to life in the dark recesses of your mind?”

Maybe, Annabelle thought inanely, this was a dream too. Just an extended nightmare, one she hadn’t woken up from. It felt like that: distant and strange, hyper-real and unreal. This strange man sitting in front of her, who swapped faces so easily even Annabelle couldn’t keep up, was far too out of place to truly exist. 

Or maybe he was the first real person she had met in a very long time. 

Jon continued talking, as if she had responded. Maybe she had. “I am not a hero in this story. If I was, I would have come earlier. I would have deleted your name from the pool of subjects, and I would have made it so that you never got that call.” Jon looked away from her for the first time, letting a little sadness show on his face. “I couldn’t. No - no, I could have, I simply chose not to. You’re important, Annabelle. And I didn’t want to rob you of something that you may grow to treasure. I’m afraid that the choice you make now may not be much of a choice at all - but, perhaps, there is still a chance. At the very least, I would like to make this transition a little easier for you. It is a terrible thing, to have to do it alone.”

That…

“That was so vague it was completely meaningless.”

Jon barked a laugh, strangely delighted. “It’s not fair to speak in circles to somebody who’s gone a week without sleep!”

“But you’re doing it on purpose,” Annabelle said, too dead inside to feel mad.

“Oh, absolutely. I am not taking the risk of taking you on at full power.” Jon smiled at her, as if they were friends sharing a joke. “I saw what you did to that Walker boy in secondary.”

Despite herself, Annabelle smiled. “Hear he gets out on parole in five.” Something else occurred to her, a bit belatedly. “You are stalking me!”

“Does a spider stalk the fly that strikes a string on its web?” Jon asked cheerfully. “Or is it simply investigating an encroachment into its territory?”

“Does that mean that you’re going to eat me?” Annabelle said archly. “Thought you said you didn’t want to fuck me. Rude, by the way.”

Almost hilariously, Jon wrinkled his nose. “Sex is a waste of time, resources, and my attention. Can’t imagine why people are so obsessed.”

“I know, right!” Annabelle burst out, before she could help herself. “Do you have any idea how much money I get a month from guys just to talk to me? It’s like they’re aliens! Why do people fuck or date if it’s not to manipulate someone?”

“Right! It’s ridiculous.”

It was the first time anybody had ever agreed with her on that. It was the first time she had even told anybody she felt that way. For a brief second, Annabelle felt connected to Jon. It was the first time that happened in...a very long time. 

Jon was the first person Annabelle had ever met who was like her. Everybody in Annabelle’s life had always been either useful or useless. Jon seemed above that, somehow. To be beyond utility, to exist on your own power...what did that look like? To be the powerful, instead of the powerless?

No matter how hard she tried, no matter how many puppet strings Annabelle tied around her fingers, she was never powerful. Not really. She was eighteen, from a nothing family, and no matter how many molehills she made herself queen of she would never rule the mountain. She couldn’t get as far as she wanted with what she had. The only reason she had even volunteered for the stupid Arachnophobia experiment was because she needed to crush out weakness in herself, erase the hidden flaws in her mind.

But Jon said her flaws were strengths. What made her weak could be turned into power. 

Annabelle needed more, more, more. She needed everything, if she was to have anything. She needed what Jon had. 

Everything Annabelle said had a purpose. Every word she used was chosen carefully, every little gesture or body language was calculated. She said nothing without thinking, and she could do it so quickly nobody even noticed. Jon would notice, a con man as perfect as she was.

Let him. Give her two straight days to sleep, and they’d have a real battle of wits. In the meantime, she just had to pick her questions strategically.

“What am I turning into?” Annabelle asked, after a half-second of rapid thought. “Who are you? And what do spiders have to do with any of this?”

Jon smiled again broadly, grey eyes dancing with a barely hidden delight. “You’re fully aware that these are all the same question.”

“Then answer them. You said you’re here to help me. Then help me.” Annabelle narrowed her eyes. “We’ll negotiate a price later.”

“This one is a freebie,” Jon said. He leaned back, face fading into the shadow of the dim yellow light of the hanging light. “You’re turning into something much akin to myself.”

In the darkness, Annabelle saw Jon open his eyes. And his eyes. And his eyes…

All eight of Jon’s glittering black eyes shone in the darkness, straining her own and making her head thump. It was wrong, outside of humanity or reality, and it felt as if the very sight was straining the fabric of her delicately maintained life so tight it would tear. It felt as if it was tearing her, right in two, ruining her forever. Her eyes felt like they were going to burst out of her head. 

She didn’t want to know what would replace them. But she had the feeling that she already did. 

“Then what,” Annabelle gritted out, “are you?”

“I am the eldest and most treasured Son of the Mother of Spiders,” Jon said. He smiled at her, just a little, almost apologetic. “Sorry about that. I know you’ve always wanted to be an only child.”

Ah. Duh. Obviously. She should have known.

“...do I want to know who the Mother of Spiders is?”

“Your mother, should you choose to accept her,” Jon said cheerfully, leaning back into the light, and his face was normal again. Human as ever. Strange and foreign as ever - possibly everything, possibly nothing. “I know you aren’t strictly in the market for adoption, but you may not have much of a choice. You’ve felt her scratching beneath her skin. She’s going to tear out of you, and soon. Did you know some species of wasp lay their eggs in the body of spiders to provide food for the grubs?”

“During the next experiment,” Annabelle said dully, already filtering out Jon’s useless tidbits of information. That was a guy who spoke for the sake of hearing himself talk. “That’s when it’s happening. When I’ll...change.”

“Yes. It’s a painful process,” Jon said, and it was almost apologetic. “My own happened when I was fifteen - quite young, all things considered. I still remember the sound of my bones snapping as -”

“Don’t.”

“Of course! Anyway, I thought I’d make sure you had...to use the psych term, informed consent, before you entered the crucible. Our - my, sorry - Mother often foregoes true consent in our operations. The beauty of nature!” Jon laughed, as Annabelle felt sick. “Agnes wanted to put together a pamphlet, but then we let Gerry go wild on the clipart and...well, it’s better if I just explain. I can’t give you the full story now, but I’ll tell you as much as your mind can comprehend.”

Annabelle wasn’t sure she could even comprehend this. It was so much, and she was so tired. She had just heard that her body was going to rupture like a cocoon and give birth to a giant spider that may or may not also be her, and all she could think about was the fact that she wanted to go back to bed. Somehow, all she could ask was -

“Why?” She asked, so stupid and pointless, as if she was stupid, as if she wasn’t her at all. “Why are you doing this?”

“It’s like I said.” In the dim yellow lighting, Jon’s eyes glittered pure black, and in that brief and stupid second Annabelle felt as if they were the same in that way. “Nobody should have to go through this alone and ignorant.” Then the moment was over, and his eyes were a human grey again, just left of normal. “Besides. Siblings stick together, right?”

“I hardly need more siblings,” Annabelle snapped. 

“You’re about to lose seven of them real soon,” Jon promised, extremely worryingly, “so I’d take what you can get right now, Annabelle.”

“Are you going to kill -”

“Unfortunately, you may have to fake your own death!”

Then their food came, and Annabelle received her first lesson in the class of hard knocks. 

They talked for hours. It took hours, to even just get a picture of the story. Jon was patient, answering every question, and Annabelle strained so hard trying to fight through her exhaustion, trying to understand the answer, Jon’s motivation in answering it or what he could be leaving out, that by the end of it she felt as if she had run a marathon. She had never felt so tired in her life, in the most dangerous situation in her life, with the most dangerous person she had ever met. 

By the end of it, Irene was texting her to ask if she was dead, and Annabelle was falling asleep at her chair. Jon cut an end to their conversation when he slid out his wallet, covered the bill with a black Amex card, and slid a business card against the table. Annabelle squinted down at it. 

The text in the center just said [FREELANCERS]. That was it. She stared at it.

Underneath the vague word, she saw a phone number [555-555] and an email [email@organization.gov]. Annabelle looked up to stare at Jon. “Are you for real?”

“Almost never,” Jon said cheerfully, “but the card will make sense when it needs to. Let me take you back to your dorm, alright? You can get some sleep in the car.”

If he was a creep, she was dead anyway. Annabelle didn’t bother arguing. She grabbed her jacket and got in the passenger seat of his car, and true to his word Annabelle drifted asleep almost immediately. She even felt as if the ride took longer than ten minutes, as if he drove in circles just waiting for her.

For the first time in a week, Annabelle slept uninterrupted, and had no dreams.

Annabelle wanted what Jon had. 

And a week later, she took it. 

Shivering in an alley, clothing ripped to shreds, her own skin hanging off her triple jointed limbs, she dug out a creased and torn business card. She had been worrying at it intensely over the weekend, staring and it and clenching it tightly as if it was her only lifeline. It was, of course. But Jon had known that.

The card looked different now. The text now looked handwritten, but with a beautiful and old-timey slanted handwriting. It now just read: 

‘To Annabelle, with love. From your new friends Gerry, Jon, and Agnes’. There was a number underneath, and Annabelle frantically dug in her tattered leather jacket pocket to draw out her cracked phone. 

Annabelle hated taking favors from people. Everything she had, she had fought for herself. She would scrape, borrow, beg, and steal whatever she had to. But, when it came to siblings...maybe, then, it was okay.

Dizzily, as Annabelle let the phone ring, she thought: this is my supervillain origin story. 

The thought sent a slow smile crawling across her inhuman and warped face. 

Sounds like fun. 

[mister-softy]

Oblivion - A Nancy Holbrook Playlist

playlist

tracklist below the cut

notes: some of these selections don’t really fit with the film’s canon - i.e. i went with the alternate ending timeline, hence why there’s an angry revenge song towards the end. my vision for nancy’s life after the events of the story is that she and quentin get out of springwood and try to make a better life together, thus “exit music” and so on.

1. Mad World - Tears For Fears 

Went to school and I was very nervous

No one knew me, no one knew me

Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson

Look right through me, look right through me

And I find it kind of funny

I find it kind of sad

The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had

2. Waste of Paint - Bright Eyes

It's clear to see, it's not them, but me

Who's lost my self-identity

And I hide behind these books I read

While scribbling my poetry

Like art could save a wretch like me

With some ideal ideology

That no one could hope to achieve

And I'm never real, it's just a sketch of me

And everything I've made is trite and cheap and a waste

Of paint

Of tape

Of time

3. Oblivion - Grimes

I never look behind all the time

I will wait forever

Always looking straight

Thinking, counting all the hours you wait

See you on a dark night

See you on a dark night

See you on a dark night

See you on a dark night

4. In My Head - Bedroom

It consumes my mind

It consumes my soul

It wants my life, it wants complete control

Somebody help me before it's bad

Somebody help me before I end up dead

5. Toynbee Tiles - The Scary Jokes

There's a dozen round every corner

But it won't be easy to piece them together, no

But we've got minds like barbed wire

I never thought that it would be so tough

Just to exist through the simplest, most menial stuff

But I know we're gonna figure this thing out, or self-immolate trying

6. Body of Years - Mother Mother 

All the remains of a cadaver of days

I keep hidden away

Keep them there just in case

I wanna visit that place

Blow the dust from the bones

Off a body of years

That I leave all alone

7. Murders - Tally Hall 

I was in the middle ground

Looking to find the

Flowers in the garden

Wearying of the hate me hate me not

Wait they forgot

Woe oh the rot

Deeper in they crept

Oblivious of the bears and darker terrors

Or none were there

How did they dare

8. Lights Out, Words Gone - Bombay Bicycle Club

Keep your old and wasted words

My heart is breaking like you heard

But the town has always turned

These lies and made them all burn

9. Roslyn - Bon Iver & St. Vincent

Up with your turret

Aren't we just terrified?

Shale, screen your worry from what you won't ever find

Don't let it fool you

Don't let it fool you down

Dancing around, folds in her gown

10. Monsters - Ruelle

You've got no place to hide

And I'm feeling like a villain, got a hunger inside

One look in my eyes

And you're running 'cause I'm coming

Gonna eat you alive

Your heart hits like a drum

The chase has just begun

11. Exit Music (For A Film) - Radiohead

Wake

From your sleep

The drying of

Your tears

Today

We escape

We escape

Pack

And get dressed

Before your father hears us

Before

All hell

Breaks loose

12. Glowing Eyes - Twenty One Pilots

We all are stranger creatures than when we all started out as kids

Culture forbids

We have romantic fantasies about what dying truly is

Fall off the grid

We live for

The night's decor

It reveals what

We dream of

13. A Burning Hill - Mitski

And I've been a forest fire

I am a forest fire

And I am the fire and I am the forest

And I am a witness watching it

I stand in a valley watching it

And you are not there at all

[sunflowershouto]

butterfly effect - katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆: This wasn’t a request, I just wanted to write bakugou fluff, ya know? Hope you enjoy! This may be part one of a series, who knows? Depends on if people like it or not! Let me know if you’d like part two! Just a warning, reader has a bad relationship with her dad, and it’s pretty central to the story! Avoid this one if that topic is sensitive for you.

My requests are currently open!

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: ❝I knew the power of a single wish, after all. Invisible and inevitable, like a butterfly that beats its wings in one corner of the globe and with that single action changes the weather halfway across the world.❞

Set on the first day of class at U.A. for 1A!

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 2.8k

𝐛 𝐮 𝐭 𝐭 𝐞 𝐫 𝐟 𝐥 𝐲   𝐞 𝐟 𝐟 𝐞 𝐜 𝐭

It was your one wish in life for things to finally change.

You were burnt out, fed up, at the end of your rope, all because you felt as though nothing in your life was truly meaningful. Even getting into U.A. was cheapened by the fact that your father had put so much pressure on you to apply, to get in. By the time you got the notice of your acceptance, it hardly felt like your own accomplishment, just another thing you’d done to appease your father.

That morning was your first day, and you should have been excited, but if you were being honest, you felt more apprehensive than anything. You’d had so many chances like this, so many opportunities that could have, should have, completely changed your life. Only they hadn’t, and you were still that same burnt out girl who didn’t know what her own dreams were, who had spent her whole life doing everything for everyone but herself. You stared out your window as the sun rose over the city, and the only thing on your mind was a soft prayer, a quiet wish that today, things would be different. 

You ate breakfast quietly at the table, speaking to your father and grandmother when spoken to, and feigning enthusiasm over your very first day at the Academy. Cups and bowls clinked harshly against the wooden table, long pauses in the conversation were awkward and stiff. You didn’t bother to try to fill the silences; if your father wanted to speak to you, he would. 

“Take your bike to school today, Y/N.”

“What?” You looked up from your plate as your father gave you what seemed like an order. “Why? The train is so much easier.”

“You’ve spent all summer lazing around the house. Exercise will do you good for your first day. After all, you need to be successful here.” His tone was so callous, so impersonal. 

It made you want to scream, to ask him why he cared more about your reputation than your feelings. You wanted to explode, to finally tell him that you didn’t care what he wanted, that you’d spent so long working for his ideals, that you didn’t even know yourself.

“Okay.”

The second you were out the door and on the way to the campus, your shoulders slumped, and you let out a heavy sigh. It always felt like that every time you left your house, as if a weight was being lifted off of your shoulders.

The fresh air was soothing as you retrieved your bike from the storage shed outside of your home, the the handlebars and axles stiff from not being used all summer.

“Stupid thing. . .” you muttered to yourself, jerking the handles around until they moved a bit more freely. “What difference does it make if I take my bike, huh? Stupid.” 

Just like that, you started your ride to school, zoning out and escaping into your own thoughts as you watched the clouds roll lazily across the morning sky. Maybe. . . Maybe today things would change. All your life you’d been trying to do something that would get you away from that house, away from your father and his overbearing expectations. Even just something that would bring some form of joy to your life. You didn’t care what it was; if a stranger walked up to you, asking you to join the freaking circus, you would have said yes. You had always been a hopeful person, but how long could you hold out for something that wasn’t coming? Maybe you would always live under a shadow, maybe you would always be this lonely, this tired.

You didn’t notice as you came up over the top of a small hill, just kept coasting along until you started to head rapidly downwards. No problem, just brake and-

“What the-”

You gasped as you realized that your brakes weren’t working, and you had nothing slowing your momentum as you went faster and faster down the sloped sidewalk. 

“Nonononononono!” you shrieked, desperately slamming your brakes and praying that they’d start working.

Just as you reached the bottom of the slope, someone rounded the corner, and you shrieked as you and the bicycle went slamming into them.

𝖢𝖱𝖠𝖲𝖧!

“Nnh. . .” Your head was fuzzy as you regained your bearings, half draped over whoever you had crashed into.

“Oi. . . What. The. HELL?! WHAT’S THE MATTER WITH YOU?!” 

When you looked up, you were met with seething red eyes and a ruffled head of spiky blonde hair. And. . .

Oh, God, he’s wearing a U.A. uniform. Kill me, kill me, kill me!

You couldn’t even bring yourself to speak, only to stare dumbfounded up at this stranger (and possibly your classmate) as he berated you with a string of curses. This was not what you had meant when you’d wished for something to happen! Curse your stupid dad. . . If he’d just let you take the train like you’d wanted, you never would have met this jerk!

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? My brakes stopped working, and-” You stopped mid-sentence as you realized that your knee was stinging, badly. Great. Just another problem on the laundry list of reasons you didn’t want to be here. You looked down and found that your knee was badly scraped, a purple bruise forming around the cut.

“Serves you right, not watching where you’re going like that,” he nagged, glancing down at the wound before returning to glaring at you. “Are you stupid or something?!”

You grit your teeth, returning his glare with one of your own. You really weren’t in the mood for this, and this guy seemed to have his head so far up his own ass. . . “Unbelievable! I just told you my brakes stopped working! It was an accident, you jerk!”

“You’re the one that ran me over!” he shouted, shoving you off of him and rising to his feet.

“Well you don’t have to be such an ass about it! I said I’m sorry!” You rolled your eyes as you too got to your feet, picking your bike up off the ground, knuckles white around the handlebars.

“Whatever,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pocket and shaking his head. He started to walk off, not even glancing back at you. “I’m not gonna let some stupid extra like you make me late on our first day.”

“Extra!?” That was it. You hated this idiot. What was wrong with him!? “You are unbelievable!” Just like that, you started walking after him, making a point of getting ahead of him and walking faster, not looking at him as you did. 

“What are you-” Bakugou’s eyes narrowed as you went ahead of him, and he walked faster too, pulling ahead again and not slowing down.

Jerk.

You were almost jogging now, getting back ahead of him and rolling your bike alongside you. You reached the bike racks and you practically threw your bike at it; it was broken anyway, and you had a point to prove. You were only ahead of him for a couple seconds before he matched your pace, and you started into a full jog just to get ahead. 

“Seriously?! You are so childish!”

“Shut it, extra.”

He got ahead again, and you had had it. 

So had he.

At the same time, you both broke into a full sprint, booking it to the 1-A classroom and practically seething with rage. Other students stared as you ran by, but neither of you stopped to care. This was now a matter of principal. 

Your knee was stinging badly by the time you both clamored into the doorway, out of breath and gathering all sorts of strange stares from your new classmates. 

“. . .Okay, then? Looks like everyone is here now, so get seated. Doesn’t matter where, just hurry up.” 

Your face flushed as you realized that the entire class, and the teacher, had just seen your display of stubbornness, and you started glaring daggers at that spiky-haired idiot, who had already managed to ruin your first day before class had even started.

In fact, you were so busy glowering, that you failed to notice that the only two seats left in the room were back to back. Your face paled, and a knot formed in your stomach. “You have got to be kidding me.”

You trudged over and fell into the seat, the idiot porcupine taking the seat directly behind you. Ten minutes into class, and you felt something small flick against the back of your head. When you turned to look, you saw Porcupine sitting there with a pile of wadded up paper and an insufferable sneer on his face. 

He flicked another, and it struck you in the forehead. 

You didn’t even bother, just turned back around and buried your head in your arms. This was going to be a long year.

-----------

It was five months into the school year, and you were absolutely about to lose your mind. No matter how well you did on evaluations, no matter how high you ranked in your class numbers, nothing was enough. You were still a disappointment to your father, he still thought you were lazy, not applying yourself. You were giving it your all, but getting nothing in return. You were exhausted and at your breaking point, and to top it all off, Katsuki Bakugou was as insufferable as ever. 

He mocked you relentlessly, tore down your every achievement, and went out of his way to be a complete and utter bother. He was a porcupine idiot, and he managed to make your life at school just as miserable as it was at home. Today you’d had enough.

Of course, you’d been unlucky enough to pair with him in sparring, but better than that, you had been totally off your game. Bakugou had crushed you, and he’d made absolute sure that you knew it too.

I knew you’d wash up after a few months, L/N. Someone like you isn’t strong enough to make it to the top. Just quit already, we all know who’s gonna be number one around here, and it ain’t gonna be you!

You wanted to strangle him for saying that, but you didn’t have it in you to fight back that time. You shoved him off you and walked away without a word, something that even he had to notice was unlike you. You spent your lunch break alone in the 1-A classroom, your knees pulled up to your chest as you sat against the far wall, just beneath one of the window panes. You didn’t notice Bakugou’s phone sitting forgotten on his desk. 

You breathed in and out as best you could, trying to tame the lump in your throat and keep any tears from spilling over. Even if he couldn’t see you, you couldn’t handle the idea of letting Bakugou make you cry. If he could see you right now, you knew exactly what he would say. He’d call you pathetic, tell you to quit. All things you were starting to believe. You had hoped so much that things at U.A. would be different, but despite all the knew friends you’d made, you felt worse than ever.

You looked up, slightly startled as your phone started ringing in your pocket, and a pit formed in your stomach as you saw your father’s contact lighting up the screen. You couldn’t ignore it; as soon as you were home, he’d just berate you about not picking up. You sucked in a breath, then held the phone to your ear.

“Hi, dad,” you greeted, trying your best to sound cheerful. “What is it?”

“I just got your report card in the mail,” he replied, his tone as cool as ever, lacking any of the concern or care that a parent’s voice should have. “Your grade in combat training went down. It was an ‘A.’ You have ‘B+’ now. Care to explain?”

“Dad. . .” Your chest started to feel like it was caving in, and suddenly you were talking around the lump in your throat. “I’m trying my best, I just-”

“Your best?! This clearly isn’t your best, Y/N, seeing as you’ve clearly gotten worse since last term! I’m not paying for you to be lazy and slack off! I’ve poured so much money into your education and you repay me like this?”

“It was just bad luck! I lost a few fights, I can get the grade back up, and-”

“No. If your grades slip any further there are going to be consequences. Serious ones.”

“Dad, please, I-”

“Do I make myself clear?!”

“I- Yes, papa.” Defeated, you let your phone clatter to the floor once you’d ended the call, and you buried your face in your knees, unable to hold back the tears that had finally started to spill over. You were shaking, and your fingers rooted in your hair, nails digging into the palms of your hand. Stupid. Stupid and worthless.

“Oi.”

Not now, Bakugou.

“Why are you even here? I know. I lost. Haven’t you rubbed it in enough?” you muttered, lifting your head and glaring up at Bakugou through watery eyes, unable to even muster a glare.

“Hmph. Don’t flatter yourself, I’m not here for you,” he assured you, gesturing to the phone that was sitting on his desk. 

You looked away, diverting your gaze to the side and wiping your eyes with your sleeve, though more tears came just as soon as you did. Of course. It was always something small and stupid that ensured that you’d have to deal with Bakugou. He’d just had to leave his phone today of all days.

“You really just let him talk to you like that?”

“What?” You looked back over to him, eyes narrowed.

“Your old man. You’re really not gonna stand up to him? I thought you had more fight in you than that. Guess I was wrong.” He pocketed the phone and headed for the door.

“You don’t understand what he’s like.” You shook your head, eyes roaming the floor. “It’s not that easy. He expects everything to be perfect.”

“So what? You’re just gonna waste all your time doing all this for him? Pretty stupid if you ask me. You don’t even want to be a hero, so why-”

“You’re wrong.” You cut him off, looking over at him, his back still turned to you. “I do want to be a hero, I know that.”

“Then stop fucking crying about it and just do it. Letting someone else control your life is just pathetic,” he snapped, turning to look at you over his shoulder, expression mildly irritated. “Besides, sparring with you is a waste of my time if you’re not actually trying. You’re no use to me if you sit there crying all day, ‘cause no one’s gonna know how much better than you I actually am if I don’t destroy you while you give it your all.”

You rolled your eyes, but the tears were still coming. Never in your life had you expected Bakugou to be the one to encourage you, if you could even call this encouragement. You could see through him; he wasn’t heartless after all, but Bakugou even at his kindest was still pretty rough around the edges. 

“Th-Thank you,” you mumbled, wiping at your eyes again. This was still humiliating, even if he was being nicer than usual. You hated crying in front of anyone, but especially someone like him. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying your best to control yourself and be strong. 

You heard footsteps approaching, and gasped at the feeling of a hand resting heavily on top of your head, your eyes opening. You were met with Bakugou’s signature glare, red eyes drilling into you as he scowled, his hand tipping your head back so you would look at him.

“Don’t thank me, L/N. I said shut up and stop crying, damnit,” he growled, brow twitching in irritation.

Your eyes were wide as you stared at him for a long moment, before you burst into giggles, your hand coming up to cover your mouth.

His scowl deepened and his hand on top of your head tightened in anger. “What!? The hell are you laughing at me for?!”

“Sorry! Sorry! It’s just- You look so scary when you’re trying to be nice,” you laughed, a smile finally breaking through the tears.

He withdrew his hand, looking somewhat disgusted. “NICE?! DON’T GET IT CONFUSED! I WASN’T TRYING TO BE NICE TO YOU!” 

You waved him off, your giggles finally subsiding and your spirits lifted slightly. “It’s okay, Bakugou. I won’t tell anyone that you’re not so bad.”

“Oh, shut up,” he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets as he headed for the door. “You’re still just a stupid extra.”

“Okay, Porcupine,” you called, wiping away the last of your tears and standing to watch him go. 

And to think, all this because of a broken bike and a forgotten phone.

//

𝑬𝒏𝒅 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆: Thank you for reading! This can either be a stand-alone, or a part one! Let me know if you’d like to read more of this story!

[kayr0ss]

Perfect, or Not

[LWA, Diakko, cooking, trying new things, Diana needs a break from all the expectations, cute fluff!, domestic cute girlfriends, STAY AT HOME]

Diana and Akko navigate perceptions, vulnerability and... a cooking activity?

---

Diana once told her that what made her different from everyone else at Luna Nova was that Akko never thought she was perfect.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Akko had asked, caught off guard by the admission.

“A good thing.”

She didn’t fully understand it back then—she was much, much younger—but as the years flew by and led to their eventual romantic involvement, Akko began to get it. When it came to Diana, it seemed as though the whole world had one form of expectation from her or another: model student, soon-to-be heir of magic aristocracy, and later on a well-respected front-runner in the educational career she had chosen.

This was mostly due to the fact that Diana Cavendish rarely made mistakes. Seriously. Ever. Her reputation was held in such regard that even as a student, the instructors at Luna Nova made exceptions based on her opinions (which may have infuriated a younger Akko who had no idea they would end up dating). But even back then, she could see it bearing down on Diana’s shoulders like rocks piling up; and how hard it was becoming for the young Cavendish to keep it balanced lest it all come falling down.

Within their first year of dating, the brunette came to a realization: Diana never failed because she never did anything she might not be good at. She figured it out during a fishing trip of all times! Diana had tucked herself behind a book and under the shade of her wide-brimmed (and very stylish) hat while Akko wrestled with what felt the Master of the Swamp of that darned lake.

“We went all the way out here to fish! Won’t you even try?”

“You seem to have it covered. Fishing isn’t exactly within my area of expertise.”

“And so?”

Diana looked up at her and blinked in confusion, as though the concept of doing anything just for the heck of it was completely foreign to her. “I… well.”

They had to cast the rod seven times before Diana even got so much as a nibble, but fishes be damned—Akko didn’t give up on her that afternoon.

Biking was another activity which Diana had obstinately refused to even consider doing, she fondly recalled. Now this sucked for Akko—it really did—because biking around a park dusted with autumn leaves was kind of on her ‘couple bucket list’, except the other half of said couple didn’t even want to get on the bike.

“We have brooms. This is completely unnecessary.”

“It doesn’t have to be necessary,” Akko took her hand and practically dragged her towards the bicycle. “Don’t you remember what it was like for me to learn flying? Come on, try it for me!”

She’d never forget the how visibly difficult it was for Diana to say this, and that it hurt her to see how the blonde seemed to be expecting some form of judgment. “I… don’t know how.”

Akko laced their fingers together and made sure Diana was looking into her eyes when she said,

“That’s okay.”

Diana seemed surprised.

“I’ll teach you?”

--

This year, Akko’s birthday fell on a lovely, overcast Saturday. There were no dinners or parties to be held on account of a recent outbreak, which left her in the company of Diana with whom she now shared an apartment. It was more than enough.

What she wasn’t expecting, however, was for her girlfriend tap on her shoulder, looking a little excited and reluctant at the same time, asking: “Could you help me bake a cake?”

Akko’s eyebrows shot up, and she blinked away from her video game. “Oh. Without… magic?”

Diana nodded, and Akko lowered her line of sight towards the paper bag the blonde witch was carrying in her arm. Ingredients?

Akko dropped her game—her island and its denizens could wait.

“Please tell me you wore a mask when you went out to buy those!”

“Of course.”

--

Their first obstacle for the afternoon’s baking session was cracking the eggs.

“By Jennifer, I’ll always be amazed at how eggshells are both so fragile yet strong.” Diana accidentally crushed another egg, and braced herself for a witty remark form Akko, but none came.

“That’s okay,” Akko beamed, handing her another egg. “One more time!”

Encouraged, Diana picked up another egg and decided to just smack the damned thing along the rim of the mixing bowl. Oh. To her pleasant surprise, it cracked open obediently. “Right along the prime meridian.”

“P—Prime meridian!” Akko chortled, “mou, Diana, you’ve made the egg into a little Earth!”

Diana wanted to roll her eyes in annoyance but found herself smiling instead—Akko could get away with murder weilding a laugh as warm as that.

“Come on,” Akko stole a chance with a kiss to her cheek, “we’ll make a chef outta you yet. Time to get to mixing!”

The brunette had a good spot of fun during the first five minutes watching the taller witch mix. But Diana started grumbling about how her arm was sore, and so it was Akko’s turn to, to quote her girlfriend, “toil.”

“Someone’s comfortable,” Akko teased, leaning back when Diana decided rest her chin on the opposite shoulder of her mixing arm.

“I’m simply resting,” the blonde replied with a rare dash of jesting. She brought up her arms to circle Akko’s waist, squeezing a little bit while she planting a small kiss on the brunette’s shoulder. “Thank you for agreeing to teach me.”

“And what a teacher you’ve picked!” Akko giggled. “The last time I baked a cake, well… you were the one who brought Lotte to the clinic for a stomachache.”

Diana chuckled, and Akko couldn’t help but love the way she could feel the sound of it through her back pressed against Diana’s chest. “You know, I…”

“Mhm?”

“I always liked you teaching me new things.”

“After making beg all those times? You liked it after all?” Akko stuck her tongue out “Betrayal!”

“Oh, come on.” Diana nudged the side of Akko’s head. “It’s just… I always remember how I lost my magic when I was younger.”

Akko kept quiet, bring her pace of mixing to a slow, smooth motion.

“The kind of expectations my family had, and how hard it was to learn everything. Everyday. On my own. I remember how I couldn’t even cast simple spells, and how I told myself I’d never feel that… inept anymore. Not at school. Not at work.”

“But now, Diana, I’d say you’re pretty amazing.”

"That’s... Thank you.”

“But you don’t have to be,” Akko reassured.

“I… just never thought that. Not until recently. It felt right to be perfect—fit everyone’s preconceptions.”

“I don’t think you need to be perfect.”

Akko felt Diana’s arms wrap themselves around her a little tighter, felt her firsts clench with the way the cloth of her shirt balled up in them a little. The blonde witch relaxed, and then nuzzled against Akko’s shoulder.

“And I love you for that. Among many other things.”

Akko turned her head to kiss Diana’s temple. “Oh! Other things like what?”

“Must you always ruin these cheesy moments,” Diana rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway.

Akko laughed, dropping the mixing spoon to turn around in Diana’s embrace and drape her arms around her neck. “Indeed, I must! But for the record, I’m sure Hannah and Barbara don’t think so too, you know?”

Diana wiped a spatter of chocolate mix off Akko’s cheek with her thumb and licking it off on instinct.

“I love you.” Akko smiled, “even if you can’t bake to save your life.” She slowly brought a hand to cup Diana’s cheek and she tilted her head, inching forward for a soft, warm kiss that tasted like chocolate.

She really couldn’t bake. But somehow, Diana thought that was just fine.

---

An hour later, they found themselves trapped in an apartment that smelled like rich—yet slightly burnt—chocolate cake.

Diana looked a little lost and adorably sheepish, holding up a tray with a cake shaped like a… a rhombus? The frosting was uneven, although the birthday message was written in perfect handwriting (which was no small feat for a beginner!). Her sleeves were rolled haphazardly, and the apron looked hopelessly awkward on her, but by Jennifer—

(“Happy birthday,” she lifted the tray up as if to say ‘ta-da!’

Akko smiled so wide her cheeks hurt.)

—she looked absolutely perfect.

--

fin

---

A/N: Howdy folks! Firstly I genuinely hope everyone is safe and doing well. Stay at home--and stay properly informed! Secondly, aaaa I’ve missed writing and I’ve missed the fandom so have a cute fic! I have another idea which I’m excited to write!

This was the product of me getting so TIRED OF WRITING A RESEARCH PAPER all night and READING FOR THREE HOURS just to WRITE ONE SENTECE so I’m sorry if the grammar is kind of whack or for typOs you see sir it is 7;30am sir..,.,., i haven’t slept helpe meEe I am but an ant in a colony  L I F T

[jaskierswolf]

You Set My Heart Ablaze Pt.12/25

TW: Fire!! (Only took 12 chapters to get there), and Geralt has a panic attack in the shower.

Previous

_____________

Half-term was chaotic.

Geralt would have preferred to have gotten the time off work so he could spend the week with Ciri but unfortunately the shift rota just didn’t work out this time. This meant he was already grumpy before his shifts even started. He hated leaving Ciri behind. Coën was thankfully grateful for the extra money that the hours round Geralt’s house gave him. Geralt had managed to at least get two days off during the week and he’d promised to take Ciri ice skating. He hadn’t tried ice skating since he was a child but he hoped that it was like riding a bicycle. She’d pouted at him with her big shining green eyes and he’d been helpless to say no.

He just had to make it through the day first. His stomach rumbled as he watched his leftovers spin round and round in the microwave. He’d made pasta bake with Ciri on Sunday evening and the leftovers were his lunch until his next day off, which was, thankfully, tomorrow.

Lambert had been called out to assist the police at a road traffic accident whilst Geralt and Renfri had just gotten back from house call in Lower Posada and it was already long past his usual lunchtime. The call hadn’t really needed both of them in attendance but the owner of the house hadn’t been confident to put out their small kitchen fire by themselves so had rung the fire service. Eskel had had a few false calls, which was really just a waste of everyone’s time. The on-call team, the griffins this week, had been called in to help the wolves on their various missions. They’d just been too spread out the last couple of days and Geralt was exhausted.

“Ger-Bear!” Renfri called as the alarms began to ring in the fire station. “We’re up! Stop slacking.”

He cursed and stopped the microwave. It looked like he was skipping lunch today, again.

He grabbed his jacket and they all jumped into gear. They were down the pole and in the fire engine in record time. Geralt turned the keys in the ignition as Eskel slipped into the seat beside him. They keyed in the postcode into the GPS and Geralt hit the siren and the lights.

“What have we got?” Geralt asked Renfri as he navigated the traffic of Upper Posada.

Renfri looked through the notes on her phone. “House fire in a block of flats. Cause of the fire is currently unknown but it managed to spread to the corridor before it was noticed by one of the residents returning home.”

“Fuck.” Geralt cursed. “What happened to the fire alarms?”

“Believed to be faulty. The alarms only went off when the fire reached outside of the flat.” Renfri continued. “Owner of the the flat where we think the fire started was also out at the time, he returned whilst the reporting resident was on the phone. However, we aren’t sure how many residents are still in the building. Vesemir has called Lambert so he’ll be joining us as soon as he’s finished with the RTC in Gulet.”

“Shit.” Geralt groaned. Fires in apartment buildings could be devastating if they weren’t caught early. The potential number of casualties were a lot higher than your average household. “Eskel, can you contact the landlord, get a list of everyone in the building?”

“On it.” Eskel grunted and started to flick through their list of contacts until he found the right number.

Whilst he was on the phone the fire engine’s radio crackled to life.

“Shrike.” Vesemir called.

“Here.” Renfri nodded as they turned into the right road. Geralt grimaced as he saw the plumes of smoke rising from the building.

“Call me once you’re at the scene. I have information for you.” Vesemir ordered.

“Will do, boss.”

Geralt parked the truck in the road and turned the sirens off, leaving the lights on to alert passing traffic. The police was already at scene trying to control the crowd, they must have had a patrol in the area. They leapt into action the moment the engine had pulled to a stop. The smoke was already heavy in the air and the smell of burning plastic hit the back of his throat. Geralt grimaced as he quickly assessed the situation. Judging by the smoke billowing from the window, the fire was on the third floor and hadn’t spread yet to the other floors, but it was only a matter of time and they had to act fast.

“Geralt!” Renfri called, the urgency in her voice startled him. “Vesemir. He didn’t want me to tell you this but… He had another call.”

“Spit it out, Renfri!” Geralt growled as she hesitated.

“Geralt… Jaskier’s up there!”

Geralt felt his knees almost buckle underneath and he had to grab onto the fire engine to keep himself standing.

Jaskier.

“Why didn’t he evacuate with the others?!” Geralt yelled at Renfri.

“I don’t know!!” Renfri yelled back. “We’re wasting time!”

Geralt snarled and pulled on the rest of his protective gear so that he could go into the building. Renfri tried to protest, saying he was emotionally compromised but he ignored her. Jaskier was somewhere in that growing cloud of smoke.

He had to save him.

Whatever the cost.

“Focus on the fire. I’m getting him out, and call any griffins that aren’t on other jobs. There may be others.” He growled. “Did Vesemir say what floor?”

“Fifth. Flat 5D.”

“Thanks.”

He took a deep breath before heading into the blaze, ignoring Renfri’s protests behind him. He ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He almost ran straight past the third floor in his rush to get to Jaskier. He skidded to a halt and cursed before turning back.

The third floor was the priority. He had to check for residents nearest the fire first. If he didn’t and there were casualties then it would be on him. Their deaths would be his responsibility.

“Fuck!” He yelled into the ever growing heat. Every step he spent on the third floor was torture. His soul was pulling him to the fifth floor but he couldn’t lose his cool. He needed to remain professional. Renfri was right. He was compromised. “Damn it, Jaskier.” He snarled.

He located the cause of the fire in one of the flats as he navigated the flames. The structure of the building growing more unstable by the second. The oven was completely charred and there was no saving the rest of the flat but thankfully it was empty, just like the reports had said. He quickly radioed Eskel to confirm the cause of the fire before moving to safer ground. He yelled out as he check the rest of the floor as quickly as he could. Once he was certain it was clear he sprinted up the final sets of stairs.

“Jaskier!!” He called loudly. The sound of burning was quieter on the fifth floor but he could still feel the heat from the floor below. He squinted through the smoke at the numbers on the doors until he found 5D.

He kicked through the door. He winced as he felt the shock of the impact shudder up his leg. “JASKIER!” He called again.

“Geralt?” Jaskier’s voice was uncharacteristically weak. “I’m in here!”

Geralt snarled. ‘In here’ was not a useful description but he tried his best to locate the teacher. The living room was full of instrument cases and there was a small grand piano tucked into the corner of the lounge. Geralt swallowed. He really hoped they could tame the blaze before the fire tore apart Jaskier’s home. He’d be devastated if he lost his instruments but there was no way Geralt could get them out in time. He shook his head and moved into the bathroom. “Jaskier?” He found him…

In the bath…

Naked.

“Jaskier!” He fell to his knees in front of the tub. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

“My ankle. The alarm went off and I slipped. I couldn’t move, Geralt.” Jaskier was visibly shaken and pale in the bright lights of the bathroom. Geralt tried not to look where he really shouldn’t but he needed to make sure his friend wasn’t badly hurt. There were no obvious burns which was good and so far there wasn’t much smoke in this part of the building. Hopefully it was just his ankle.

“I couldn’t move.” Jaskier repeated more quietly.

Geralt looked around. Ideally he didn’t want to pick Jaskier up with nothing to cover him but clothes were not a priority. He was hoping Jaskier had a dressing gown or something nearby that he could grab. If not a towel would have to do.

“Luckily I had my phone next to the bath. You can’t hear the music over the sound of water if it’s too far away so I had my phone on the laundry basket. I should probably invest in some speakers but then it did save my life so maybe I won’t.” Jaskier was speaking at a hundred miles an hour now Geralt had arrived. “I did try and call you first but then you didn’t pick up and I realised you must be at work so I called the emergency number instead. Weirdly not my most embarrassing phone call. ‘Hello I’m stuck in my bathtub and the building is on fire. Oh and I’m naked as a new born baby.’”

“Jaskier!” Geralt snapped, breaking off the man’s train of thought and desperately trying not to look as Jaskier drew his attention, once again, to his nakedness. “Do you have a dressing gown or anything?” Geralt asked, the mask muffled his voice but Jaskier managed to hear him clear enough.

Jaskier, the fool, laughed. “On my bedroom floor. This was a lot sexier in my dreams.” He whined.

“You’re delirious.” Geralt grumbled as he moved into the bedroom. “Must be smoke inhalation.”

“No really. You’d fly through the window like in the movies and carry me down the ladder.” Jaskier sighed wistfully. “It’s fucking terrifying in real life. More of a nightmare.”

Geralt found the robe and threw it into the bathroom. “Put that on and I’ll help you out.”

“You were wearing less clothes in my dreams.” Jaskier continued to ramble and Geralt realised it was probably the nerves blocking his usual filter. Whilst Geralt wasn’t a stranger to Jaskier’s flirting, the teacher usually took more care to keep their interactions on the other side of the professional line, a more light flirting that could easily be dismissed as banter between friends should someone, such as the headmaster, care to examine their growing relationship more closely. “Strangely I normally start with more clothes.”

“Hmm.” Geralt sighed and looked around the small flat impatiently.

“Of course… by the end of the dream…” Jaskier trailed off.

“Are you done?” Geralt pushed the door back open.

Jaskier was leaning against the wall, hopping unstably on his good ankle. The dressing gown was fluffy and covered in yellow flowers, and Geralt just wanted to wrap the man up in his arms.

He paused.

Jaskier couldn’t walk.

Geralt was allowed to wrap him up in his arms.

He grinned, thankful that he delight was hidden behind his helmet and mask, and scooped Jaskier up into his arms and over his shoulder.

Jaskier squeaked indignantly but didn’t resist.

“At least buy me a drink first!” He protested.

Geralt rolled his eyes. “I’ll buy you one after once we get out of here.”

Jaskier laughed. “Is that a promise, dearest?”

Geralt needed to get them out of here, and quickly. The fire was no longer the most dangerous thing in the building. If Jaskier didn’t shut up soon, Geralt’s heart was going to burst from his chest.

“If we survive.” He grumbled mostly to himself.

Geralt carried Jaskier to the window, flinging it open with only a little difficulty. He managed to radio Eskel to confirm that he’d found the teacher. Eskel radioed back to confirm receipt of the message and the ladder on top of the fire truck was already moving towards them.

Really Geralt should have entered the building through the window to start with but he would be the first to admit that he hadn’t exactly been thinking clearly. He wondered if that was how Vesemir had felt all those years ago when Geralt had been trapped in his bedroom by the burning embers of his house. Jaskier was still wittering away over his shoulder but he didn’t put the man down. The weight on his shoulder was a comforting one. He’d managed to rescue Jaskier. That was all the mattered.

Eskel’s voice crackled in his ear to confirm the rest of the residents had thankfully managed to evacuate without a problem.

Of course it would be Jaskier that was the problem.

By the time the reached the street both Lambert and the griffins had arrived on the scene. Lambert, Renfri and a handful of the on call fighters were spraying gallons of water into the smoking windows to douse the flames. Eskel was supervising the operation, since Geralt had dived straight into flames, and liaising with the other emergency services that now crowded outside the burning building.

Geralt dumped Jaskier into the waiting ambulance and pulled off his helmet. He looked down at his friend, searching his face for any obvious injuries or signs of trauma.

“Jaskier.” He voice cracked now the adrenaline of walking through fire had begun to crash out of his system. “Fuck.” He closed his eyes.

He opened them when he felt Jaskier’s hand on his cheek. “I’m ok, Geralt.”

Geralt wanted to say so many things.

Like how fucking worried he was.

Like how he had wanted to tear the building apart just to find him.

Like how he’d felt like his heart was shattering when he pictured Jaskier’s dead body trapped under burning debris.

He couldn’t say any of that. The words just stuck in his throat as he was shooed away by the paramedics. He growled at them and headed back over to join Eskel.

The blond fireman was seething.

“What the fuck were you thinking, Geralt?” Eskel shoved a clipboard into his chest.

Geralt groaned and turned away.

“Years of training. Over a decade of experience, and you almost throw it all away in a heartbeat!” Eskel continued. “You’re lucky Vesemir isn’t here.”

“Oh really!” Geralt spun back around and snapped at his friend. “Because you are doing a damned good impression of him.”

“You just charged headfirst into a burning building without following any of our standard safety procedures!” Eskel yelled back.

“He was in danger!”

Eskel rubbed his face and groaned. “That’s our job, Geralt. Every single day!”

“I know!” Geralt sighed. “I know.” He repeated more quietly.

“Why?”

“Because I—”

Geralt cut himself off with a snarl.

“He’s my friend.”

“Go home, Geralt.” Eskel sighed. “You can’t work like this. You’ll put us all at risk. Go home and come back Friday with your head screwed on right.”

Geralt shook his head. “Vesemir.”

“I’ll cover for you. Go.”

Geralt glanced back over to Jaskier but the paramedics were still fussing over him. He sighed and decided it would be best to give him some space. Maybe he could text him after dinner just to make sure he was alright. He had just had a traumatic experience after all.

“Fine.” He grumbled and sauntered over to the fire engine to get his stuff.

They were too far out from his flat and he’d have to call a taxi. He groaned when he realised he would have to explain to Ciri why he was home early. She’d go ballistic when she heard about Jaskier. He was sure that they news would get back to the school eventually. That place was like a cesspit of rumours. Nothing happened in Posada without all the teachers knowing and more often of not the kids found out too.

He glanced down at his clothes. He was still wearing his uniform and he stank like smoke but his normal clothes were still back at the station. He really didn’t want to go back to the station. He couldn’t face Vesemir’s disappointment.

“Ah fuck!”

The taxi ride was an uncomfortable affair but there was the promise of a hot shower on the other side so he kept quiet and endured.

Coën was surprised to see him when he slunk into the kitchen. Coën and Ciri been sparring in the small living room with long tube balloons, and Ciri had what looked like blood red lipstick streaked across her cheeks as warpaint.

She screamed excitably when she saw him and ran to give him a hug. He picked her up easily and buried his face in her long hair.

“Ewww!” She squealed. “Dad you stink!”

He hummed in agreement. He really did need a shower, the smell of smoke was driving him mad.

“Everything alright, Mr Rivia?” Coën asked, looking concerned.

He nodded. “Yeah. Rough day. Can you watch her whilst I have a shower?”

“Sure thing.”

“I still need to save the princess from the evil sorcerer!” Ciri grinned.

Geralt forced a laugh for his daughter. “Is that what this is for?” He smudged the lipstick on her cheek.

“Dad!” She whined. “Yes! It’s to help me get through the wards.”

Geralt furrowed his brow. “The wards?”

“That the sorcerer put up to keep the princess prisoner!” Ciri rolled her eyes as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Geralt raised his eyebrows at Coën who just shrugged. “Where did you get the… paint?”

Ciri grinned. “Coën!”

“Ummm. Yeah. That’s mine.” Coën shuffled awkwardly.

Geralt was a little surprised but just nodded. “Nice colour. I’ll be right back, little lion cub.”

The water burned against his skin as he rested his forehead against the cool tiles in the bathroom. He mind was still reeling from the day. How did it all go wrong so fast? He closed his eyes and he was back in the building. The scent of burning hung thick in the air. The flames flickered at the debris and bits of glass cracked under his feet. He couldn’t breathe.

There was too much smoke.

And his chest was on fire.

His knees buckled underneath him and only just managed to catch himself from falling in the bath.

He cursed and spun the tap towards cold.

The jet thundering down on the top of head turned to ice and his muscles shuddered at the sudden change of temperature.

He finished off quickly under the icy water and got dressed. Coën and Ciri were still dancing around the living room playing their make believe game. He watched them from the doorway for a few minutes with a soft smile before she noticed him and leapt forward to attack with her wooden sword that had now replaced the balloon. He noticed her green balloon was lying in tatters on the sofa.

His stomach rumbled and Ciri laughed. “You have a monster in your stomach!”

“How about a takeaway?” He asked sheepishly.

“Pizza?”

He nodded. “Is there any other kind?”

Ciri ordered a pepperoni pizza and Geralt went for a meat feast. They had invited Coën to stay for dinner but the teenager declined the offer. Geralt didn’t blame him. Coën had spent most of his half term around their house to look after Ciri. He was probably desperate to go and meet his own friends.

There were cuddled up together on the sofa munching on pizza and watching one of Ciri’s favourite cartoons when Geralt’s phone rang.

He scowled as he pulled the device from his pocket, assuming it was going to be Vesemir yelling at him for leaving half way through his shift or blatantly ignoring all their training in order to save Jaskier.

But it wasn’t Vesemir.

It was Jaskier.

He hit the accept call button and shuffled off Ciri to go to the kitchen.

“Oh hello!” Jaskier stammered on the other end of the line. “Wasn’t sure whether you would pick up.”

He hummed, unsure on how to reply. They didn’t talk very often on the phone, preferring to communicate via email or the odd text. It stopped the friendship from seeming like… more. He rang Jaskier if he was struggling to find the right words or occasionally Jaskier would ring him if he was busy cooking dinner or composing something new on one of his many instruments.

“I hoped you would.” Jaskier continued. “I… I wanted to say thank you.”

“It’s my job.” He frowned. He always felt uncomfortable when people thanked him for doing his job. What was he supposed to do? Not do his job and let them die?

“True. That’s true.” Jaskier admitted. “Well, you should thank me more often then. Quite frankly I do a remarkable job in teaching Ciri’s class.”

Geralt laughed. “And you’re so modest about it too.”

Jaskier’s melodic laughter joined his on the other end of the line. “Naturally! Did you know I go to sign language classes every weekend on top of what we learn during the week?”

Geralt tilted his head. “No. You never mentioned that.”

“It’s important and really I’m disappointed in myself for not learning sooner.” Jaskier sighed.

“You can’t please everyone, Jask.” He growled.

Jaskier audibly gasped. “You take that back! I can! It’s my party trick.”

Geralt shook his head with a smile and rolled his eyes at his friend. “How’s your ankle?”

“Fucking sore!” The teacher whined. “Not broken though, just sprained. The real casualty was my dignity.”

Geralt snorted.

“Is there any chance we can just forget everything I said in my flat?” Jaskier asked.

“Hmm…” Geralt paused, pretending to think about it. “Not everything.”

“Bollocks!” Jaskier groaned. “Come on, Geralt, please!”

“Nope.”

“Who do I have to kill to make it go away?” Jaskier moaned.

Geralt smirked. “No killing.”

“Awww” Jaskier whined and Geralt could picture his pout easily. “But Geralt!”

“How are you a teacher?”

“Charm, good looks and a dash of smouldering personality.” Jaskier laughed.

Ciri started yelling at him about his food going cold and he sighed.

“Ciri?” Jaskier asked sadly.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll leave you to it.”

They was few seconds of silence between them as they were both reluctant to say goodbye.

“Jask?”

“Yes, dear?” Jaskier asked, hope brightening up his voice and Geralt’s heart skipped a beat at the term of endearment.

“About that drink?”

Jaskier groaned. “Freya help me.” He breathed quietly on the other end of the line. “Geralt, darling. I told you to forget what I said!”

“Friends have drinks.” Geralt added quickly.

There was a beat of silence. “Friends do have drinks.” Jaskier considered.

“Dad!!” Ciri tugged at his arm. She had tomato sauce smeared around her face from her pizza. “Who are you talking to? You’re missing the show!”

“I’m missing the show.” He repeated to Jaskier before calling back to Ciri. “I’m coming, princess.”

“What show?” Jaskier giggled.

Geralt peered back at the television and groaned as he saw Twilight bloody Sparkle dancing around on the box.

“Nothing important.” He grumbled.

“Oh ho ho!” Jaskier cackled. “Now you have to tell me!”

Geralt considered his options. He was running out of time to talk to Jaskier without Ciri working out he was on the phone to her teacher. He didn’t have an excuse this time now they’d sorted out the band nonsense. Ciri would start to worry that Geralt was talking to Jaskier behind her back and something was wrong at school. He could easily just hang up and save himself the embarrassment.

Only, he knew Jaskier enough to know that it wasn’t going to go away simply by hanging up the phone.

Once Jaskier had his claws in something he never let go, unless he got distracted along the way.

“Dad! Come on!” Ciri pouted, a pout that could rival Jaskier’s.

“One minute.” Geralt reassured her before speaking back into the phone. “I’ll tell you over that drink.”

Jaskier stammered incoherently over the phone for a few seconds, making Geralt laugh. “Geralt! You cannot say things like that without warning me first!”

“Your poor bisexual heart?” Geralt rolled his eyes.

“Oh you think you’re so funny don’t you!” Jaskier huffed.

“I’m hilarious.”

“Fuck off.” Jaskier grumbled. “But fine. Over drinks, stubborn ass.”

The line went dead saving either of them from having to say goodbye.

He huffed a laugh and went back to sit with Ciri.

He curled back into his side as he finished off his pizza, and if he got a little too invested in the Ponies’ latest adventure then no one else needed to know. He had thought Ciri had fallen asleep by the time he switched the tv off but she whined and shuffled around next to him, looking up at him with those big green eyes, Pavetta’s eyes.

“Dad?”

“Yes, princess?”

She rubbed sleep from her eyes and scrunched up her nose. “What’s bisexual?”

He frowned as he tried to work out the best way to explain it without getting too complicated.

“You know how your grandmother and grandfather loved each other?” He started.

“Yeah.”

“And your mum and dad did too?”

Ciri scowled. “Grandma said they did. I don’t really remember.”

Fuck.

“Sorry, Princess.” He pulled her into a hug and stroked her head. “Well, that was both mums and dads loving each other right?”

“Yeah, but Kayleigh has two dads!” She added.

“Right.” Geralt nodded. “Well, sometimes a person falls in love with another person regardless of gender.” A simplified version, not entirely accurate. For some people it wasn’t about love at all. “Like me.” He added.

“You’re bisexual?” Ciri asked.

Geralt nodded, he didn’t really label his sexuality but he guess it would fit if it helped her understand for now. It was better than outing Jaskier without his consent. If Ciri didn’t already know the term that meant her teacher was uncharacteristically secretive about his sexuality around his class. “You know I used to date your Auntie Yen?” Ciri nodded. “Well one day I might decide to date a guy.”

“Would you date Mr Jaskier?” Ciri asked innocently.

Geralt ignored the ache in his chest and shook his head. “I can’t date your teacher, Cub.”

“What if he wasn’t my teacher?”

“Time for bed.” Geralt grumbled.

“Just because I’m asking questions you don’t like!” Ciri yelled.

Geralt sighed. “It’s just… it’s complicated, Ciri. I can’t answer that one just yet. Can you trust me on that?”

Ciri put her hands on her hips and frowned. “Fine.”

“Thanks.” Geralt ruffled her hair and picked her up to carry her upstairs. “I’ll read you the next chapter of your book if you want?”

“Ok.” She agreed. “But I’m still mad at you.”

“I know.” He sighed.

He wondered when she had become so perceptive. She was growing up fast and he’d not even been her father for a year yet. He’d never expected that watching her growing up would be so terrifying. One day soon he wouldn’t be able to pick her up like this anymore. She buried her face in his neck as he held her tighter.

______

Next

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

I see you're on break (congrats)and you want some aus? Perfect What about a single dad finally meets the kindergarten teacher and shenanigans occur or something like that? Remeber tonjoy your break tho and rest up :)

Ah Anon it makes me ever so happy to see you in my inbox! Please never leave my darling. And I hope you're good, and happy, and well. Don't worry I'm definitely resting up these hols (please ignore the fact that I'm posting this at 2am while I tell you I am resting)

So I know I said prompts were probs gonna be jercy but when I read this everything in me just screamed PERCABETH. So that's what I wrote. Side note this had biiigg Everything Has Changed music video vibes.

Anyway I hope you enjoy! Love y'all. And thanks for the prompt! Keep em coming.

Masterlist for more crackships and other stuff

Percy Jackson pulled into the designated pick up zone, his music blasting so hard his seats vibrated. His fingers tapped along to the beat against the steering wheel, head bobbing aimlessly. The time on the dashboard blinked 14:59 and as the song ended the clock struck the hour.

Little kids, dressed in all manor of outfits came pouring out of the school, throwing basketballs and strapping on bike helmets. He watched as a little boy in a lobster costume attempted to mount his bicycle, falling three times before he got frustrated enough to yank the costume down. Percy, and probably every parent in the vicinity, was grateful the little guy had a vest and shorts on underneath.

Another little boy looked on the verge of tears as he handed a broken pair of wings to his mom. She gave him a kiss and a chocolate and the kid beamed so hard the sun got a little jealous. He immediately turned to the little girl next to him and offered her some of his sugary contraband.

Damn Percy loved Halloween.

Speaking of which, where on earth was Estelle? She had been buzzing about the Halloween sleepover all week and now she was going to be late.

He checked the clock to find five minutes had gone by with no sign of his little sister. The front area was beginning to clear as little kids hopped on the school bus or into a parent's car. He gave it one more, impatient minute before getting out and stalking towards the schools entrance. His eyes wide and frantically searching through all the little bobbles and capes and various types of bugs. What was it with little kids and insects? Still there was no sign of a bright green tail or red hair clips.

Percy was starting to panic. He pushed the double doors of the school open, "Estelle? Estelle? Elle? Ellie? Elephant?"

His shouts echoed in the empty hallways but there was no response.

"Princess Ariel? Come on Elle this isn't funny." His voice shook with nerves as he peered into empty classrooms and around abandoned corners.

"Elle if you come out now I'll get you icecream on the way home." Bribing always worked.

"Come one Estelle, please," He could hear the panic in his voice now.

"Can I help you?" A voice from behind him asked.

He whipped around, stumbling as he caught sight of the stranger.

She was, wow. She looked like a princess from one of Estelle fairytales. Golden curls, and bright grey eyes. And a soft, expectant smile.

Expectant.... expactant. Shit. She was waiting for him.

He cleared his throat, "Uh yes hi I'm looking for my little sister. She didn't come out after school and I'm panicking just a little."

"Oh alright," She motioned for him to follow her before disappearing behind a door, "Can you tell me her name and who her teacher is?"

"Sure yea, her name is Estelle Blofis and her teacher is Miss Dare."

"Oh yes they had swim class for the last hour of the day. Come on I'll take you to the pool. Maybe she's still there."

"Thank you so much," He gave her a grateful look, "I'm Percy by the way, Percy Jackson."

"Annabeth Chase," Her tone was open but her answer was blunt.

Percy was confused and a little worried, and wow she was pretty.

"So you been working here long?"

She gave him a weird look and he realized it was probably a stupid question but before he could back track she was shrugging her shoulders.

"About two years."

"Must really love children huh?" He chuckled, "I think I'd go crazy if I had to look after a bunch of six year olds all day."

She looked at him then, grey eyes piercing into his.

"It started out as a backup plan while I waited to get into postgrad and kind of just became a thing."

"Well I'm sure you're great at it."

She laughed softly, pushing open the doors to the pool, "I'm great at everything Mr Jackson."

"Percy!" A small weight crashed into his legs.

"Hello Elle, where have you been?" He crouched down to look his little sister in the eye, "I've been worried sick about you."

"I'm sorry Pers," She gave him that puppydog stare, "We were having so much fun in the pool Miss Dare said we could stay in for a little extra. I didn't think you'd mind since you like to listen to your loud music." Her little button nose scrunched in distaste before she bounded away to change and grab her things.

Percy heard a soft snickering from behind him and stood up to see Annabeth covering her mouth, grey eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Someone's not a fan of your taste."

He scowled at her, "She doesn't count. Her favourite song is" Kiss the Girl" from Ariel."

"That's a great song," The blonde arched a perfect brow.

"Maybe when you're a kindergarten teacher," He teased, "I listen to real music like Led Zeppelin and Bon Jovi."

"Who said that's real music, Seaweed Brain?" She said pointing to his t-shirt that read Marine Biologists: seaweeds with brains.

"Haha," Percy rolled his eyes, "Well what do you consider good music?"

She opened her mouth to respond but Estelle beat her to it.

"Okay Percy I'm ready. Are we gonna get icecream on our way home?"

"What are you gonna give me in return?" They started waking back into the school.

"We can watch any movie you want tomorrow." She declared.

"Any movie?" He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Any movie. Oh except toy story. I don't like watching Andy give all his toys away. And that mean pink bear scares me."

"So we can watch Frozen?" He picked her up to look straight at her.

"Yes!" She giggled, "But you can't sing along to every word. I like Elsa and Anna's voice."

He pouted at her and glared at Annabeth who had been silent until this moment, when she had hurriedly tried to cover up her laugh with a cough.

"Why don't you run to the car, little one," He put Estelle down, "If you can get there in under thirty seconds I'll let you have two scoops of ice-cream."

The little girl didn't so much as blink before she was racing down the hall.

"So Frozen huh?" Annabeth smirked, "Guess that's also considered good music?"

"I'll have you know Elsa and Anna are queens and icons of this generation."

"Personally I think Nani and Lilo are better role models but whatever you say," She grinned at him.

"How about we settle this debate over coffee? Friday next week?"

"I hope you know I was captain of the debate team in college so you're definitely going down."

"All I'm hearing is that you accepted to go on a date with me," It was his turn to smirk.

She laughed as he wiggled his eyebrows. He knew he looked ridiculous but her laugh was buttery and warm and he'd do most anything to keep hearing it.

"It's a date Percy Jackson."

His smile was bright and unrestrained as they waved goodbye.

"See you then Annabeth Chase."

[timelesstimesgoneby]

Episode

Season 1

Disc 1

S01E01 The First Meeting

S01E02 The Ventriloquist

S01E03 Busy Wife

S01E04 Kiddy Park

S01E05 Stable for Three

S01E06 Sorority House

S01E07 Ed The Lover

S01E08 The Pageant Show

Disc 2

S01E09 The Aunt

S01E09 The Missing Statue

S01E11 Ed The Witness

S01E12 Ed's Mother

S01E13 Ed the Tout

S01E14 Ed The Songwriter

S01E15 Ed The Staolpigeon

S01E16 Psychoanalyst Show

Disc 3

S01E17 A Man For Velma

S01E18 Ed's New Shoes

S01E19 Little Boy

S01E20 Ed Agrees To Talk

S01E21 The Mustache

S01E22 The Other Woman

S01E23 Ed Cries Wolf

S01E24 The Contest

Disc 4

S01E25 Pine Lake Lodge

S01E26 Wilbur Sells Ed

Season 2

S02E01 My Son, My Son

S02E02 The Horsetronaut

S02E03 Ed The Redecorator

S02E04 Ed The Jumper

S02E05 Ed the Voter

S02E07 Ed The Hunter (aka Hunting Show)

S02E08 Mister Ed's Blues

Disc 2

S02E09 Ed The Hero

S02E10 ED The Salesman

S02E11 Ed And The Elephant

S02E12 The Wrestler

S02E13 Ed's Bed

S02E14 Ed The Beneficiary

S02E15 Zsa Zsa

S02E16 Horse Wash

Disc 3

S02E17 Ed The Horse Doctor

S02E18 George Burns Meets Mister Ed (a.k.a.) Ed Finally Talks

S02E19 Ed’s Word Of Honor

S02E20 No Horses Allowed

S02E21 Bald Horse

S02E22 Ed's New Neighbors

S02E23 Ed The Beachcomber

S02E24 The Lie Detector

Disc 4

S02E25 Clint Eastwood Meets Mister Ed

S02E26 Ed The Matchmaker

Season 3

Disc 1

S03E01 Ed Get Amnesio.

S03E02 Wibar The Good Samaritan

S03E03 Wilb 'And Ed In Show Biz

S03E04 The Bashful Clipper

S03E05 Ed And The Allergy

S03E06 Horse Sense

S03E07 Wilbur In The Lion's Den

S03E08 Horse Party

Disc 2

S03E09 Ed The Pilgrim

S03E10 Disappearing Horse

S03E11 Ed And Paul Revere

S03E12 Wilbur The Masher

S03E13 Horse Of A Different Color

S03E14 Ed And The Bicycle

S03E15 Ol' Rockin' Chair

S03E16 Big Pine Lodge

Disc 3

S03E17 Unemployment Skow

S03E18 Horse Talk

S03E19 Ed Bad The Secret Service

S03E20 Working Wives

S03E21 Wilbur’s Father

S03E22 The Price Of Apples

S03E23 Ed The Zebra

S03E24 Ed The Emancipator

Disc 4

S03E25 Doctor Ed

S03E26 The Blessed Event

Season 4

Disc 1

S04E01 Leo Durocher Moets Mister Ed

S04E02 Wilber Post, Honorary Horse

S04E03 Ed Parovers America

S04E04 Patter Of Little Hooves

S04E05 Be Kind to Humans

S04E06 Don't Laugh At Horses

S04E07 Getting Ed's Goat

Disc 2

S04E08 Oh Those Hats!

S04E09 Taller Than She

S04E10 Home Sweet Trailer

S04E11 Love Thy New Neighbor

S04E12 Ed's Christmas Story

S04E13 Ed Gets The Mumps

Disc 3

S04E14 Ed's Dentist

S04E15 Ed The Shish Kebab

S04E16 Ed In Tre Peace Corps

S04E17 Ed The Desert Rat

S04E18 Ed The Donkey

S04E19 Ed Visits A Gypsy

S04E20 Ol' Swayback

Disc 4

S04E21 Moe West Meets Mister Ed

S04E22 Ed The Chauffeur

S04E23 Ed the Musician

S04E24 The Prowler

S04E25 Saddles And Gowns

S04E26 Moko

Season 5

Disc 1

S05E01 Hi-ExHorse

S05E02 Ed The Pool Player

S05E03 Ed Writes Dear Abby

S05E04 Ed's Tunnel To Freedom

S05E05 The Heavy Rider

S05E06 Ed The Pilot

S05E07 Animal Jury

Disc 2

S05E08 What Kind Of Foal AmI ?

S05E09 Ed The Race Horse

S05E10 Ed's JOke Stand

S05E11 Like Father, Like Horse

S05E12 Ed The Stowaway

S05E13 Never Ride Horse

Disc 3

S05E14 Ed The Sentry

S05E15 Eds Diction Teacher

S05E16 Ed THe Godfather

S05E17 Ed Contact Lenses

S05E18 The Dragon Horse

S05E19 Eds Cold Tail

S05E20 The Bank Robber

Disc 4

S05E21 My Horse, The Mailman

S05E22 Whiskers And Tails

S05E23 Robin Hood Ed

S05E24 Ed The Artist

S05E25 John Provost Meets Mister Ed

S05E26 My Horse, the Ranger

Season 6

Disc 1

S06E01 Ed The Counterspy

S06E02 Ed-a-Go-Go

S06E03 Ed Sniffs Out a Cold Clue aka coldfinger

S06E04 Ed Breaks The Hip Code - a.k.a. - Spies Strike Back

S06E05 Love And The Single Horse

S06E06 Anybody Got A Zebra?

S06E07 TV Or Not TV

Disc 2

S06E08 The Horse And The Pussycat

S06E09 Don’t 'Skin That Bear

S06E10 Ed The Bridegroom

S06E11 Ed And The Motorcycle

S06E12 Cherokee Ed

S06E13 Ed Goes To College

[lattaescript]

To Succor a Calico Cat

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

*Prompt-:“Person A and Person B are lifelong rivals and neighbors, but when an issue in the apartment building occurs, Person A ends up having to room with Person B” 

Since your days as a middle schooler in Busan, you and Jimin didn’t really share a friendly rivalry. But a certain calico cat makes your paths cross again…

“A calico cat has three colors.”

He then bitterly chuckles.

“It’s funny. I do art for a living, but I see more colors in you than in my life.”

-Artist!Jimin and Artist!Reader, Architect!Jimin InteriorDesigner! Reader feat. a very special calico cat

-I maaaay be really inaccurate with their professions but like bear with me here lol

-A lil angst…but…Fluff? Fluff. Short entry for @nightbts writing contest!

As you opened the door to the veranda, you sighed a cloud of white as you shivered from the early cold morning while clutching onto a hot cup of coffee. The neighborhood buildings as well as the flower pots and the nearby bicycles yet untouched for the day were all dyed in light orange from the sunrise. You breathed in the fresh crisp air and enjoyed the scenery when all of a sudden you heard a chuckle.

“You tryin’ to film a movie or something?”

You closed your eyes to revel in the pleasant air for just a little while longer. And then you turned to the source of the evil here to ruin your morning...yet again.

“Good morning to you, Park Jimin,” you grumbled as you tried to force a civil smile (but to no avail) to the guy leaning against the next veranda to your left.

It had been 6 months since you moved to Seoul, the heart of Korea. And it had been 6 months since you became neighbors with your archnemesis since middle school in Busan, Jimin. Park Jimin was the guy who stole your spotlight since middle school. Your parents, your teachers, and your friends were all smitten by him– him and his “creativity handed to him by God”. He took 1st place in just about everything- all the art contests your school could possibly hold, social life, and even academics. But you didn’t quite care much. He was the ingenious kid who was born to stand out, and frankly, you just wanted to enjoy the quiet student life in lieu of the bustling nature of being surrounded by the mass- or so you deeply ingrained in your heart. When Jimin was accepted into the top art university in Seoul, however, you failed to contain the jealousy you had for him. One day, I’ll be in my own place where I belong. Geniuses have it easy.

But several years later, you felt your dignity crumble as your neighbor happened to be that same Park Jimin, and that same Park Jimin happened to be working at a very famous spatial design company as an architect while you were working in a small and humble interior design firm. You really, really did not want anything to do with him after high school, but alas, fate was a cruel thing, was it not?

He seemingly didn’t change at all. His aura flaunted with confidence– rather, cockiness, and his flamboyant appearance and persona seemed to match that of his in high school. Except with time, he seemed to also grow a shadow of an adult, and as much as you hate to admit, he exuded maturity, but to everything and everyone other than you, it seems. He was so nice to the landlady of your apartment, helping her with fixing broken things around the apartment or help the elderly man who lived 4 doors down walk down the stairs. And yet, when it comes to you, he fails to lose the impertinent childish demeanor. But you were also equally as petty– maybe all the comparisons to him and you since middle school did take a toll on you.

And now, with your proximity closer than ever, you had to deal with the silent taunting that came from the occupant of the veranda next to you.

You side-eye him to see his smug look at you.

God. I hate him so much.

You hurry and head back inside to get ready for work.

But as it was, you weren’t having a field day at work either.

“Miss Y/N, you are never going to make it if you keep this up,” your boss sighs as she crinkles her nose and massages her temples. She was reviewing some ideas you came up with for a client, and clearly she wasn’t happy with it.

“I’m so sorry ma’am, but I–”

“Clearly this shows how much of an amateur you are. Our clients aren’t looking for something like this,” she waves to the file you handed her.

“This demonstrates your lack of ability to think outside the box. It’s like you grew up in a bubble. Now, bring me an actual plan next time.”

“…Yes, ma’am,” you mutter as you look down to the floor.

Your co-workers stare at you- some in pity, and some in relief it wasn’t them. At this point, you just wanted to give up and throw everything away but rent and paying back art school fees were actually a thing in life.

If the day couldn’t get any worse, as you start to head home, cold drops started to precipitate, and exponentially increased its speed.

Shit.

You didn’t bring your umbrella with you because you were too preoccupied with that damn Park Jimin to check the weather forecast.

Dammit Park Jimin this is all your fault.

As you cursed him you proceed to helplessly run, getting drenched in the freezing autumn rain anyways.

“God, I’m fucking freezing,” you shivered as you try to reach for your keys to open your door.

While you were desperately fumbling for your keys, you suddenly hear a soft whimper from below. You look down to look at the source of the sound, and next to the residue of rain dripping from your body was a small, shivering tri-color cat. You admire its coat of orange, black, and white as well as its exquisite green eyes but you found a color that did not belong. Your eyes widen at the sight of the color red.

“Oh, you poor thing, you’re bleeding!”

You bend down to the cat to check on it. It seemed like the cat could not move.

“Okay, let’s get you inside.”

You opened the door, and carefully carried the cat inside.

After you hastened to dry yourself, you placed the cat on top of a warm blanket, and proceeded to check more on it.

“Okay, it just looks like a scratch. The rain probably shocked you, huh?”

You gently swabbed at the wound with cotton wet with warm water, and the cat flinched. It weakly whimpered, gently moving its shaking paw towards you to signal its pain.

“I’m sorry. It’s gonna be over soon, just bear with me, okay?” You pet the cat softly as you try to reassure it.

After making sure the wound was cleaned, you carefully wrapped a bandage around the wound.

“There. You should be better soon!”

The cat purred in relief, and licked your hand myriad amount of times in gratitude.

“That tickles!” You giggle. You felt a heavy burden lift off your chest as your eyes soften at the cat.

You suddenly hear a ring from your bedroom.

“Oh, that’s my phone. Be right back, okay?”

After you took care of your phone call, you headed back to check up on the cat again. But there was no said cat.

“Huh?”

You looked around the entire living room. There was no sign of the calico cat.

“Huh, did it really just up and leave?”

You looked around your entire apartment twice and finally accepted that it left.

Hmm. Guess it’s fine now. Hopefully it’ll stay safe.

You scan the living room one more time and left to finish drying off.

Jimin sighs as he climbs up the stairs to his apartment. His face felt stiff from smiling the same smile for 5 hours straight at a company social dinner. Sure, he had it all– good connections, good position…but does he really have to sit in the same room with those arrogant ass middle-aged men? Those same men that mocked him with jealousy behind the scenes for being young and successful simultaneously? All he wanted was to go home, take a shower, plop on his bed and sleep. He stopped in front of his door only to be guested with a stranger.

A calico cat.

“Hmm? It’s…a cat. Haven’t seen you around here.”

The cat pleadingly meowed at him.

“Oh, you were injured…and someone took care of you, eh? But you look like you are starving though. Lemme give you something, hold on.”

Jimin then let the cat inside his abode, and he searched his fridge something soft for cats. He prepared a meal for the cat by warming up some chicken broth and crumbling pieces of bread. He set it in a bowl and placed it gently next to the cat and waited for him to eat. The cat’s pearly green eyes glittered and started nibbling quickly on the food.

“Wow, you really must have been hungry, huh,” Jimin chuckled.

Jimin stared at the cat whilst petting its royal coat of fur.

“A calico cat has three colors.”

He then bitterly chuckles.

“It’s funny. I do art for a living, but I see more colors in you than in my life.”

He then gets up, and stretches.

“Mm. I’m gonna go take a real quick shower– I really need one. Finish that up, okay?”

The cat meowed in response.

Jimin heads to the bathroom, and proceeds to take off his clothes when he turned on the water. But after an extended amount of time, the water wasn’t getting warm.

“Fuck…”

Jimin changes back into his clothes and rushes out of the bathroom.

“I gotta call the landlady– huh?”

Jimin expected the cat to still be eating the food, but instead, he found no cat and he found a completely clean bowl.

“Well. He ate that fast and he just left, didn’t he? Oh well, as long as he is fed, I guess. More importantly, the water…”

And Jimin hurriedly looked for his phone.

The next morning, you were rudely awakened by a knock on the door.

“…But it’s my day off today,” you grumble half conscious.

But the knocking incessantly continued. You reluctantly get up, pat down your hair, and trudge towards the door.

To your surprise, it was the landlady– together with Park Jimin.

“Um. Good Morning, Y/N,” the landlady hesitantly started.

“Oh, hello. What happened?”

The landlady was a fairly kind lady who usually hated intruding upon her own tenants aside from giving them occasional home cooked side dishes or cupcakes. She was that kind of lady. And when she happened to intrude upon her tenants like this, it was usually either a problem in the apartment or rent. You payed rent this month– it was most probably the former.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry to ask you this, but Jimin’s water heater has broken. Would you mind having him stay over for a while? It seems like they can’t fix it until next Tuesday, and most of the other tenants aren’t here over the weekend,” the landlady apologetically asks.

You and Jimin looked at each other.

He leans on your door, indifferently waiting for your response.

Reasonable desires to reject his stay bubbled up to the horizon- until you saw the landlady look at you in desperate hopes you’ll say otherwise.

“Listen. You. Will sleep on the sofa.” You succinctly hissed to Jimin while he pushed his bags inside.

“Fair enough.”

Jimin immediately swished passed you and plopped on the sofa.

“I’m only going to stay here to sleep and take a shower here for a couple of days. I’m busy after all.”

“Are you implying that I’m not?” You scoffed.

Jimin looked at you with his eyebrows raised.

“Nah. Just thought, you’d appreciate me not being here often.”

You paused your inner rage for a short second. Where was his usual rudeness?

“Oh…well no I–”

“By the way, do you have food in your fridge? I’m starving. Or do you usually get take-out? Mind getting something for me? I pulled an all-nighter last night and didn’t eat dinner.”

Ah. There it is.

You exhale in exasperation. This was going to be a very long couple of days…

True to his words, the next day, he was barely in your presence. This only served to fuel your irritation more since it screamed out the comparison between the difference of working status between the two of you.

You sighed for what seemed like the hundredth sigh and take out your laptop.

“Well. People who aren’t geniuses have to work hard. I’m busy too, y’know,” you spoke to a non-existent shadow of Jimin you conjured.

Jimin came back home at around the evening, but he came back earlier than you had since you went to the market to get groceries.

You come back to see Jimin making himself at home while he munches on a bag of chips on the sofa while watching some kind of variety show.

“Oh. Welcome home. Did you happen to get the groceries I asked you to get?”

“Yes. I did,” you grunt as you struggle to put the groceries down on the kitchen table.

“Oh? You did?” His eyes widen.

You close your eyes in frustration. His surprise in his completion of his request irritated you more than the request itself.

“Jimin– as much as I honestly dislike you, you’re still a guest. And as long as you are a guest, I have to make sure your stay here is damn great, 10/10 would recommend. Okay?”

Jimin stares at you for what seemed like years. His face stilled until it finally broke out into a wide grin.

And that was the moment your heart skipped a beat.

What…the hell? Nuh-uh. No way. No way in hell did I just think he was-

“Okay. Then in order to make my stay great, 10/10, you wanna join me?”

He pats on the seat of the sofa next to him.

“This show’s really funny.”

“Huh? But I have to make din–”

“Please? For a guest?”

Ohhh shit. What have I done?

You could not focus on the show at all. The parts you did listen to were all drowned out by his laughter. But you were just mainly confused to why you were watching this with him. You stared at Jimin who was so busily invested in the show. And you wondered- who really was Park Jimin? The more you thought about it, the more it became a wonder. You didn’t really know much about him after all. The way his cheeks touched his eyes as he laughed made you feel something. It was less closer to the irritation that you felt for him during the past few years.

The entire time was awkward- at least for you. And you felt your fatigue hit you as you yawned. You quickly cover your mouth hoping that Jimin didn’t notice, but it seemed like you were too late as Jimin started snickering.

“You tired?”

“Yeah– cause of somebody. It’s getting late, I should start preparing–”

“Lemme do it.”

“Huh?” Your eyes widen in shock.

“I know how to cook. I’ve been living by myself for quite a while now. Besides, I was the one who made you watch it with me. There are no rules that guests can’t pay their price, right?”

He smirks at your speechlessness. “Pasta, right? I saw the groceries earlier. I’ll have you know– I make one hell of a pasta.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that.

And as it turns out, and as much as you begrudgingly admit- he did make a hell of a good pasta.

Your time with Jimin turned out to be more enjoyable than you were willing to admit. He cooked for you when he could, and when he couldn’t he at least helped you. Pretty soon, it was just natural for you to take the spot next to him in the sofa and watch his favorite comedic variety show. Your laughs had echoed his.

But one day, you came home to find the room dim.

Huh. Guess he’s coming home late tonight.

And you convinced yourself that you felt relieved because you also felt another emotion that you didn’t feel like addressing.

You were in your bedroom working on a project idea at 2 AM when all of a sudden you hear the door unlock.

I’m just gonna check if he ate dinner.

You told yourself that as you made your way out to the living room. And you were surprised to see a Jimin leaning next to the door. His head was resting on the wall but the rest of his body was slumped, and it seemed that his body was slowly reaching the ground by the second.

“Ohhhh heyyyy Y/N. Wow, you still up?”

“God, are you drunk Jimin? How much did you drink?” You quickly run up to him and support him up by pulling his arm around you.

“Hmmm? Not much I dun think? Just a couple of shots with those smelly assholes,” Jimin slurred as he smiled.

“Just a couple shots, huh. Okay, let’s just get you to bed, kay?”

You manage your best to get him to the sofa. Your arms nearly give out as you release him on the couch.

“Actually, you want to go to my bed? I can–”

Jimin quickly grabs your hand.

“No. It’s okay. Just stay for a minute.”

“O-Oh. Um…okay.”

He inhales and exhales while still gripping your hand.

“I’m tired. Honestly…I’m so tired. Those jealous ass fucking higher-ups. Geniuses don’t get tired, they say. Who the hell are you to tell me I don’t work hard just as much as you do?”

A pang of guilt pierces your heart.

“…Jimin…”

He bitterly chuckles. “Yeah. I know you think that too. But I feel like shit. Like every human does. Cause you know what? I’m human too. But you…But you…” Jimin mutters.

You quietly clutch his hand. You couldn’t say anything- you didn’t really know what to say.

After a few moments, you heard a constant of breathing. You found that Jimin was fast asleep.

You felt your eyes hot with tears.

I’m such a fucking terrible person.

Your hands shake as you squeeze Jimin’s warm hands.

“I’m so, so sorry, Jimin.”

Jimin awoke to a heavy pang to his head. He crinkled his eyes to the unwelcoming sunlight. He found himself toppled with more blankets than he remembered.

Jimin rubbed his eyes and slowly became more aware of his surroundings.

Next to him was a cup of water, some aspirin, and a note that says, “There is breakfast I made in the kitchen.”

Jimin stared at the note for a while before everything hit him all at once.

“Shit…”

When you got home, you found Jimin on the sofa. He was startled by your entrance, and he uncharacteristically fidgeted and became hesitant on what to say.

His cheeks were tinged with pink, and you swore to make sure that you save the image in the archives of your memory.

“Um. Hey, Y/N. You’re back.”

“Oh…hey. Um. Yeah, I’m back.”

A breeze of awkwardness flowed between the two of you, and both of you were stammering to keep the conversation going.

“Hey! So. Apparently they are almost finished fixing my water heater. They should be finished by tomorrow afternoon. Aren’t you glad?”

“…Oh. Tomorrow’s already Tuesday, huh.”

Not met with the reaction he expected, Jimin came to a loss of what to say.

And after a very, very long pause-

“Sorry.”

Both of your eyes widen– both of you had simultaneously apologized to each other.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Wait, why are you?”

Both of you stared at each other for a moment, and started laughing hysterically at how ridiculous it sounded.

“Oh God, we’re so weird,” you sigh between your giggles.

“Yeah, we definitely are,” he agreed.

And at that moment, the two of you hear a very familiar “meow”.

You turn to the source of the sound.

And a very familiar calico cat stares at the two of you with its very familiar pearly green eyes and white tail.

“Hey, that cat!” Jimin echoes your thoughts.

“You know that cat too?”

“Yeah, I fed it once. Were you the one that gave it that bandage?”

“Yeah, I did. Where did it come from though? Oh wait, where is it going?”

The cat turns around and turns to the two of you again.

“Oh, does it want us to follow it?”

And the cat swiftly turns. You and Jimin both try to follow it, only to stop in front of the veranda.

“Huh? The veranda? But where did the cat go?” Jimin questions.

You quietly open the door to the veranda- and you and Jimin were greeted with quite the surprise.

The dark sky spreaded with a myriad number of stars, each shining with their own dignity. It was a view that took the breath out of both you and Jimin, as the two of you had your jaws open and eyes never wanting to leave the wondrous view of the diamonds adorning the sky.

“Hey. I’m really sorry for my preconception of you,” you started.

“Hmm?” Jimin looked at you, puzzled.

“Last night, I realized that I’ve been such a terrible person. I didn’t realize my own jealousy was clouding my judgment to see you for who you are.”

Jimin stared at you for a while before grinning at you.

“You don’t remember, do you?”

He looked back at the stars.

“It was during high school, and there was a certain art contest.”

In your junior year of high school, the pieces of the said art contest were posted in the hallway.

And well, Jimin was first place, and you were second. You didn’t have any qualms against that; it was what it was. So you silently nod, and was about to head back to class when you heard a scoff.

“So…you aren’t angry? Annoyed by the slightest?”

You turn around to see Park Jimin. He had an expression of chagrin, and you were puzzled as to why. Shouldn’t he be happy if he were first place?

You raise your eyebrows. After a moment, you just sigh.

“Not even in the slightest,” you state, and you walk away.

“…Huh. I… don’t really remember.” You crinkle your eyebrows at the distant memory. Jimin chuckles.

“Yeah. Before, I was content that I was being called a genius with such emptiness. But at that moment, I realized how powerless I really was. I was only human, and a human with an inflated ego.”

He looked at you endearingly.

“People called me genius, but you were the first one to treat me like a human,”

He sheepishly smiles. “And I was really desperate to catch your attention.”

And this Park Jimin, the slightly awkward man that is standing right next to you, was perhaps the Jimin he desperately wanted you to meet. And he didn’t really know how to so all he could do was act like a boy who teased a girl because he liked her. After all, you bet, he never had to do the approaching– he was always approached. Both of you just needed some kind of push to become honest with your feelings.

The two of you stood close to each other. On normal days, he would stand in the next veranda, making teasing remarks at you and you would steam fury in response. But tonight, things were different. He was standing next to you, in the same veranda, and the two of you were ever so close you swear you could hear each other’s heartbeats.

You smiled. You no longer denied that your heart was indeed beating way faster than normal for no one other than Park Jimin. And that emotion that you have tried to deny for the past couple of days were closer to blooming than being extinguished.

“You know, I want to understand you better, Jimin.”

“Really? Then, maybe we can go out on a date? I mean, if you want to, of course,” Jimin shyly asks. His cheeks turn rosy as he gives you the signature eye smile he was always so popular for. You scoffed at it when you were younger. But this time, you just might fall for it.

“Sure. I would like that,” you softly say.

And when the close proximity between the two of you reached zero as your lips touched his, a shooting star flashed quickly in the background.

“You know, we could film a movie like this,” Jimin sneakily whispers.

You laugh as you slap his arm jokingly.

You ended up spending the entire night on the veranda, and saw the sunrise greet you. You and Jimin were wrapped together tightly in a blanket, and defeated the cold autumn morning air. You saw the landlady walking down and you waved to her.

But for a moment, you think you see a familiar white tail.

Hmm?

But as you rub your eyes again, the image of it was gone and you see the landlady wave back. You blame your lack of sleep as you smile and slowly close your eyes and drift off to your dreams.

Calico Cats bring good luck.

-Ahhh idk this turned out way differently than I expected lol. 

-Anyways I just did this for fun and it was kind of a breather against all my midterms and working on pt. 2 for hhdd

-I hope Darcy likes this :) Thanks for the writing opportunity!

[osmw1]

I Said Make My Abilities Average!   Chapter 1—Reincarnation

“This place is…”

When she came to, it was an unfamiliar room. The white walls, thin pink curtains hung from the windows, the desk, the closet, and so on all look antique–like, even this seemingly handmade stuffed animal… It is as if perhaps that this is the interior of a young girl’s room. And then, the one sleeping in the bed, Kurihara Misato, 18 years old, Adele von Ascham, 10 years old.

… huh, what? I’m Kurihara Misato, ten, the eldest daughter of the Aschams—wait, that’s not right. What the heck? Ugh, my head…

Then just like that, the girl lost consciousness. When she awakened a second time, her headache had vanished and recalled all her memories.

“Oh … so it was like that…”

I had died. Ten years ago.

Kurihara Misato, the elder sister of two, was born in a very ordinary family. Her parents were honest and affectionate. Her sister, two years her junior, though cheeky, was a bright, energetic, and good girl. As for Misato, she was just a little more capable than the other people.

That part of her was already shown from when she was an infant. She was perhaps quicker than average at learning words, standing on two feet, and walking.

So too with studies. Sports. Art. Shogi.[1] Speaking with adults. In kindergarten and then in elementary school—one by one—her above–average capabilities were exhibited. Along with the people around her, her teachers, too, placed unreasonable expectations on her. Overbearingly so. Her grandparents and other relatives were all too enthusiastic. They made a huge fuss, saying things like “This girl’s a genius!” and “She’s definitely going to be someone important in the future.” Misato’s grandparents from both sides scrambled. They compared her to other grandchildren, to her sister, and so on. They did not feel sorry for Misato while they sowed their seeds of discord.

The salvation was that her parents did not care at all about all of that and raised her very normally. Even if Misato’s sister could be a little jealous or rebellious, she was still raised to be a good, obedient child.

However, while Misato could catch a break at home, she was constantly singled out at school. It was by no means bullying, yet she made nothing of the sort when it came to close friends.

As well, unfortunately, she was by no means a genius either. Perhaps if Misato were perceived as an outstanding prodigy with flashes of inspiration for novel ideas, then she might have been a bit happier. However, she was merely bright.

Though she was quick–witted, Misato was thoroughly normal in her ways of thinking and her sensibility. From a young age, she thought of theory and due to her liking to reading, she had an abundant store of knowledge. Still, she was still just “a normal person with considerably higher stats.“ Because of that, everybody’s overly high expectations and regards was painful for her to bear. She wanted to joke around and get excited over talking about boys with everyone else.

Even when surrounded by people, everyday was lonely. Even when she became a high school student, the same continued. Aside from the occasional break to play video games or read, Misato, who had no friends to go out with, would do nought but study. Though it is uncertain whether it is because of that or not, in the end, she lived up to the expectations of the people around her. She accomplished to be accepted into a certain university that was Japan’s most famous and difficult to get into.

Then, the long–awaited day of high school graduation ceremony. She even flawlessly delivered the valedictory which was imposed on her. She had left high school behind. University life would be freer. There would only be like–minded people in that university, or so she thought…

Most of the people who were on the street were the recently graduated. The current students were yet to be dismissed. Perhaps it was due to the feeling of freedom, there was a group of—at least until very recently—high school students playing around while walking. Amongst them was a girl who was messing around with her friends while walking down the road. The schoolbag she was swinging around hit a ten–year–old girl on a bicycle. The impact made the child stumble and fall over.

An approaching truck. Whether it was due the driver not having his eyes on the road or that the driver could not react instantly, it did not seem like that the truck could have braked in time.

As soon as she realised, Misato’s body had already moved. Her body jumped out into the road and towards the girl. (Why did I…? If it were the people that were closer, they would have had enough time to save the girl. Then yet why did no one budge at all? I won’t make it in time…)

The others were not about to move; they had only watched Misato. That girl had good reflexes. That girl would have been able to save her, wouldn’t she?

Immediately after Misato scooped up the young girl and tossed her onto the sidewalk, Misato’s body was splattered by the truck that had merely just begun braking.

“It seems like you have awoken, Ms. Kurihara Misato.” As Misato regained her consciousness, a youth about 20 years old was looking down upon her lying on the ground. “This here is… If I’m not mistaken, I was sent flying by the truck…” With a miserable face, the youth said to Misato who was mumbling while standing up. “Yes. And then, you died.” “Huh…”

“That’s total nonsense!” was what she wanted to say, but it is unlikely that that situation would have ended safely. Moreover, if you calmed down and tried looking around, everything is somewhat white. The ground, the surroundings, even the youth’s clothes. What in the world is this place…? The confused Misato was politely explained to by the youth.

“This is—if I were to use the general concept to explain—a place like ‘heaven’; my corresponding role would be ‘God’. In actuality, it’s not exactly the same…”

According to the youth, it seems like it goes something like this. The universe follows the law of entropy increase.

In thermodynamics, statistical mechanics, and information theory, entropy is defined as an extensive property and a function of state. It could be described as a linear measure of randomness. Left alone in a closed system, entropy tends towards increasing. If you place a cup filled with hot water right next to a cup filled with cold water, they will eventually reach the same temperature. Conversely, if you put two cups of tepid water together, they will not become a cup of hot and a cup of cold water. Strictly speaking, one cannot theoretically assert that, but normally, you could think of it to be true.

Natural phenomena, biological processes, and the like in this world are formed from an imbalance of such things like matter and energy. Everything mixed together, energy reaches equilibrium. Ultimately, no changes occur—a still, dead world.

Everything in the universe tends towards death. It is neither evil nor a negative deed. It is the hand of God acting in the name of the laws of physics.

Despite all that, there was a person who defied that.

Life.

Separating things that have been mixed together creates something less random. That action seems as though entropy is decreasing. Yet even if viewed as a larger closed system, the reality is that entropy is increasing because actions such as separating matter, manufacturing objects, even biological processes intrinsically require expending energy.

However, there is something charming about that inevitability for the predecessors who overcame the stages long before.

Then, when these vital activities advance to the stage of civilization, in many cases, they collapse. Somehow, the probability greatly surpasses the theoretical probability. It is almost as if this “law of the universe” has a will.

Thus, not to waste time, it seems that that “they” have a custom of finding and merely assisting those civilizations who have reached a dangerous stage. The façade of persevering through one’s own strength is maintained as to not make the assistance too blatant. They perform acts such as bestowing specific individuals with hints through the form of dreams or like stealthily planting knowledge while the target sleep…

Though, for some reason, the ones who are bestowed information die easily. Obviously surpassing the odds. The reasons are only known to “them.” No matter how much it is analyzed, the reasons are still unknown. Whether it is because the balance of life is fragile or perhaps even that the world truly has a will…

“Huh … so that means my suffering and death was—” “Not my fault.” “Huh?”

“The assistance I had was from you, saving that young girl. The situation had nothing to do with you. Your suffering is all yours from the beginning.” “…” Misato, dejectedly kneeling on the ground with both hands on the ground. Somehow, this seems to be Misato’s fate from the beginning.

“The truth is that you were called here so that you could be thanked.” “Eh…”

“That girl would have died there. Even though the driver was well–alert for both potential traffic incidents and his own health, her sudden tumble due to whatever reason, and coincidentally his cell phone, diverted his attention. For something like that to happen wasn’t in my predictions for the near future! Honestly, what is even going on… And then, I searched for something suitable that I could use in order to somehow compensate for that. Once again, for some reason, there was nothing useable… The people nearby didn’t react at all, for some reason. It’s just like that girl’s death was predetermined. Yes, it’s almost as if—like how you would say in your world—“pre–established harmony”…

Then, when it seemed like it was all over and that I was about to give up due to all the troubles stemming from the young girl, you appeared. From that distance, you shouldn’t have been in time. You shouldn’t have felt the need to save her yourself since there were people who were closer. You were outside of both my search and my near future prediction. With but a normal human body, you were able to defeat the world’s pre–established harmony, slip pass my near future prediction, sacrifice yourself and saving that girl…

Did you know? That young girl is destined to develop theories for technologies that are essential to interstellar travel…”

(Is that so… That was possible with my help, even though I myself wasn’t able to accomplish anything. In that case, my existence, my life too had meaning…)

“So, because of that, you have my deepest gratitude. I would like to bestow upon you a new life. In other words, reincarnation with all your memories intact.” “What?!”

Misato was astonished. (It is as though how someone might play video games for a bit as a study break. But after the game…)

“Thus, to make living in a world that is less advanced than yours less inconvenient, are there any special traits you would like to have? What kind of abilities do you wish for?”

(I-It’s here!) Misato immediately replied.

“Please make my abilities average!”

Previously: /ch001/ /next/

(full list of translated chapters)

Japanese chess ↩