#one time our teacher pretended to be a cat + would meow instead of talking to us with words + would knock art supplies people were using off

[calware]

Wtf was wrong with your ap art class, mine was pretty chill

we had a LOT of people behind on their portfolios (like 3-5 pieces behind at any given time). a lot of my classmates didn't like our teacher as well. that said we somehow managed to get everyone's portfolio finished at the end

[ehenyeoongg]

SILENCE

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x reader Word count: 1.2k

Synopsis: Love at fist sight word?

"I can’t.." you clamped your mouth shut, your eyes widened.

"You're not mute?" he asked, clearly excited that he could talk to you. You shook your head and looked around before pulling him into the empty corridor.

It’s been too long since you last used your voice, something you’ve locked away when you were young. Instead of using it, you took out a piece of paper, knowing the boy didn't know how to communicate through sign language.

Please, keep this secret for me?

"Why? Your voice is.. beautiful."

No, it’s n

"I'm sure you don't think it is, and you probably made the choice to keep silent because of a personal reason, but.. Would you mind if.. you, I mean, we.. spoke like normal?" he asked, looking into your eyes, silently hoping you would agree.

You hesitated for awhile before nodding. The smile on his face spread from ear to ear, you couldn't resist the urge to smile as well. It suddenly became awkward, as he continued staring at you.

"Beautiful." he uttered, and his ears turned red when he realized that he had been staring at you for too long, getting lost in your beauty.

---

"So, what's your favorite food?" he asked, and you shrugged.

"D-Don't have one." It still felt weird for you to be speaking, so your sentences were usually very short, or you would use sign language out of habit.  

"Aww, come on." he whined and pouted, making you burst into laughter at how silly he was being. Your house was usually quiet, and the only sounds that could be heard were usually your footsteps, the dishwasher, or the washing machine. Before finding out that you were 'mute', the neighbors used to fear going anywhere near your house, thinking that it was haunted. But tonight, the house was filled with laughter and both your voices as you both poured your hearts out in front of one another. 

"Can I ask you something?" you nodded, waiting for his question.

"Why did you choose to be mute?" he asked, then realized that it must've been a sensitive topic for you, "I-I mean, it's okay if you don't want to talk about it, I was just curious, and..."

"My parents. They passed away when I was younger. Many people had been trying to talk me into getting my inheritance from me to invest, to donate, and to use it for their own selfish desires. I pretended that I couldn't speak, and my father's trusted secretary has been taking care of things for me, according to his will. He handles the company and all my finances on my behalf, as long as I promised not to let my father's hard work go to waste by giving my inheritance away." he nodded, thinking deeply.

"Since then, it's become a habit for me to not say a word wherever I go, because my thoughts aren't really needed anyway."

"They are." You looked up at Chenle.

"Your thoughts, every expression I get from you, or reaction, every word you say, I cherish it, Y/N." he smiled sweetly, "I-I mean, we. We, the teachers, our classmates, and I. We cherish you." he suddenly got shy again, and you giggled.

"I always found it difficult to express myself, since I didn't use my voice." Chenle was staring again, and Cloudy jumped up at him, clawing at his face.

"MEOW!!"  you pulled the white cat away, and she nestled in your arms, purring as you stroked her soft fur.

"What about you? What's the rich young billionaire's secret story? I've told you mine, I feel that you should share your secrets too." 

Chenle took in a deep breath, " Since I was young, I was always told that I should be myself, I was free to do whatever I wanted, because my parents were always supporting me, but I feel pressured. Even if they tell me I can do anything, I don't know what I should be doing. I don't know what to do because I can do anything and everything whenever I want to.

"Ah. Is that why you and Yuxi always go around causing trouble every time?' you teased him and he chuckled.

---

"Oh? What's this? How to confess to a girl you like. Oh~ Chenle~" Yuxi appeared out of nowhere and teased the 16-year-old who was reading an article online.

"Shh!!"

"Who's the girl? Who? Who? Who?" 

"Just.. someone.” Yuxi gave a creepy smile, the same one he usually did when he was when he was about to extract Chenle’s dolphin-like screams laughter, “Okay fine. It's Y/N. She's just.. so cute, and so perfect, beautiful. And have you heard her.."

"Heard her?" Yuxi raised an eyebrow.

"Her playlist? It's just so cool, something you wouldn't expect a very quiet girl to listen to." he heaved a sigh of relief.

"Ah.. You're in love." he gave a different look. This guy was a master of faces for every different expression and action. He didn’t even need to talk to get his point across or express what he thought. 

"Yes, and how do I tell her that?"

"I don't think she would want something huge and complicated, just something direct would do, something.. romantic." Shiyun appeared out of nowhere.

"Yes, but how?"

"Flowers, A card? A gift, or.. You said she's mute, right? And you've only been communicating with her through paper and pencil? Why not try to learn sign language, and confess to her through sign language? She'll feel touched."

---

"How do I say 'I like you' again?" Chenle was nervous as he walked through the school gates with Shiyun and Yuxi by his side.

Shiyun sighed. He had been studying the same two sentences over and over again, for the past week, and he could still forget.

"It's this" the boy signed, and he copied.

"Ah, ok."

"Ding dong!" he appeared in front of your classroom after school with a bouquet of flowers. Everyone had already left, and you were the only one in class. 

"Surprise!" he entered and stood sat in front of you, waiting.. You looked up at him.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" you watched as he placed the bouquet down and struggled with signing.

"Y/N. I like you. Will you be my.. girl.. friend?" your eyes widened at his sudden confession.

"I'm sorry, Chenle." he looked confused.

"I can't.. I wanted to tell you that I'm leaving for Korea tomorrow. I have some... urgent matters to attend to there."

"I.. We could do long distance? We have the internet, and.."

"I.. I can't." you apologized profusely, hoping he would understand. He looked sad, but he still smiled.

"It's okay."

---

“Do you know her?” Jaemin asked when he and Chenle walked past you in the corridor. You hadn’t noticed him, but he noticed you. From the way you smiled, the scent of your shampoo, and the way you laughed with an eye smile. It seemed like it was just yesterday when you two laughed in the living room of your apartment. 

“Childhood sweetheart?” he teased. Although his heart sank, he kept a smile on his face and laughed. 

“Aniyo, hyung. She just looked familiar, that’s all.” he laughed nervously.

!image credits to owner!

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

To Land On Your Feet - Chapter 08

Remember that this story updates with a chapter between Tuesday-Wednesday and a chapter between Friday-Saturday with the possibility of other chapters in between!

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Summary: Aizawa Shouta had a good life. He was a happily married pro-hero teacher, had two cats that loved to make his life difficult, and soon, if things went well, he would have Shinsou Hitoshi as a son. Thanks to an unexpected attack by a man with the League of Villains, though, Shouta is turned into a cat. While he had a fondness for cats, that never meant he wanted to be one, especially when no one seems to recognize him and his friends and family are trying to find him when he’s right there.

He had been planning to find a way to change back, but instead he ends up following Shinsou Hitoshi to the foster home he lives in after hearing some worrying information from the teen himself. Shouta himself was guilty of venting his frustrations to cats, but hearing that Hitoshi would be locked outside in the cold if he was late getting home was just another clue among countless that something was wrong. He has to get back to normal, but he’d be a poor hero and a shit father-to-be if he didn’t follow the kid and make sure he was okay.

Besides, quirks like this usually had a time limit. Right?

         <<First Chapter>> <<Previous Chapter>> <<Next Chapter>>

                                            Chapter Eight

‘For being the Voice Hero, Sunshine, you have the bad habit of being quiet when I need to find you,’ Shouta thought to himself, almost bitter at the fact he had walked around the entire campus twice and had yet to see even a hint of spiked blond hair and ridiculous leather clothing.

There had been plenty of other students and teachers to come and go, classes having let out and even a few of the shorter clubs starting to wind down as students headed home or back to their dorms. He noticed he had yet to see Hitoshi leave, but after seeing his home and the people living there, Shouta wasn’t surprised that the kid wanted to avoid going back as long as possible.

It was a bit odd, though. Shouta had checked the main parts of campus and he hadn’t seen either of them even in passing. It was a Monday so it… wasn’t… Shouta froze before taking a moment to realize what an idiot he was.

It was Monday and that meant he had a training session with Hitoshi. That kid, dedicated as he was, would go through routines in the gym himself if Shouta were to ever go missing; which he now was. Hizashi, however, knew about the training sessions and had never been shy about helping Hitoshi or jumping in himself to teach him. So, if Shouta was missing, then that only left one place for the two of them to be.

Running his way across campus and dodging around the well-trodden paths and cameras that were looked at the least, Shouta trailed to a stop outside of the gym he and Hitoshi often trained in. It was one of the older buildings on campus, now, and it had been old even when he and Hizashi had found it half buried under overgrowth and vines and turned it into their own personal gym.

It had taken most of their first year, and a little bit of their second, but they had eventually managed to soundproof it against Hizashi’s quirk and clean out most of the dust and decay on the inside. It had been their spot to hide and train for their entire school careers, really, and where they had always gone when they needed a moment to center themselves after a hectic day of learning how to be heroes.

Shouta hadn’t realized it at first, but he supposed there was a reason he brought Hitoshi to this gym to train instead of one of the other, more popular and newer ones. He had justified it at the time as being out of the way and therefore no one would interrupt their training, but maybe a part of him had known, even then, that Hitoshi was going to be someone important to him - to them.

Shaking his thoughts off, and wryly musing on how much more introspective he was as a cat, Shouta opened the door and slipped in, grateful for his height and the fact the doorknob wasn’t round.

‘How am I not surprised?’ Shouta wanted to laugh as he saw that Hitoshi was in the middle of the gym and doing his stretches, completely focused and no doubt blocking out everything else. Walking over, Shouta shook his head, ‘Remember what I said about focusing too much on one thing.’

Hitoshi seemed to notice his presence, but instead of worrying or fawning over his new cat friend, he instead huffed a familiar little sound that was a suppressed laugh, “I know, I know, I hyperfocus or whatever it is. It’s not like Mic-sensei is any… Oh.” Hitoshi blinked, relaxing out of his pose and frowning as he properly noticed Shouta. “Eraser. I thought you were Aizawa-sensei.”

‘Well, you weren’t wrong. I really look that different as a cat, huh?’ Shouta sat himself down and gave a quiet greeting, pleased he was getting some control over the volume and range of noise he was able to make in his new form. No doubt it was like what Hizashi had felt when really coming into his quirk.

“At least I named you well,” Hitoshi chuckled, looking ready to go back into another stretch before he shot up ramrod straight, Shouta startling and immediately looking around for what could have caused it. “Eraser- What are you doing here?!”

‘Oh, right, you wanted me to stay off campus.’ Shouta relaxed, stretching out some of the tension that had coiled up in his shoulders. No wonder cats stretched all the time. ‘You know, there are more strays than you think around here. Hizashi hates it because I keep feeding them.’

Finishing his own stretching, Shouta looked back to see Hitoshi was working himself up over the matter, muttering and worrying about being caught with a cat on campus. Shouta was impressed when the story took a rapidly dark turn about how Hitoshi would be forced to live on the streets and Shouta would be locked away in a lab that experimented on animals.

Shouta wondered if transferring Hitoshi into 1-A would really be the best considering it would just encourage his flights of fancy. He didn’t have long to think on it before the door was opening again, Shouta tensing up as he realized it could only be one other person, “Hey there, herolet! You beat me here, it seems, and… so did your cat?”

“I can explain.” Hitoshi now sounded a lot calmer and it broke Shouta’s heart to see all that nervous, excited energy locked away behind an emotionless mask. One glance was all it took to know it broke Hizashi’s, too. After all, he had first seen that mask on Shouta when he had been Hitoshi’s age.

“Really? What’s to explain,” Hizashi shrugged, dramatic in his actions as he sighed and shook his head, “Nothing to do about a friendly stray following you around for the day, right?”

Hitoshi was saying something, but Shouta couldn’t focus because now that he was looking, there was no way in hell he could look away from Hizashi. Instead of the wild and over-the-top Present Mic, he seemed stressed and ready to snap and cave inward at the smallest amount of pressure, hair free of gel and height and instead pulled back into a loose bun and his leather jacket exchanged for a softer sweater that used to be Shouta’s.

He had his sunglasses on, but Shouta didn’t have to see past them to know there were no doubt harsh bags under his eyes to rival his own, the man’s movements slower and stilted as if he hadn’t had any amount of rest in days. There was a quiet, almost inaudible whining sound, and Shouta was surprised to realize it was coming from him.

“-adopted this really cool cat and then he followed me to school and I’m so sorry I know it sounds fake, but he even followed me onto the train, and I tried to get him to leave, but he’s just so stubborn-”

“Whoa, whoa, easy, Hitoshi,” Hizashi soothed, crossing the room to rub at Hitoshi’s back, Shouta beyond pleased to see the teen relax and take a few deep breaths. It wasn’t even a few weeks ago that Hitoshi would have just tensed up even more at being touched like that. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Besides, as a very wise, yet idiotic man once told me, you don’t adopt cats. They adopt you.”

‘I’m trying,’ Shouta grumbled, making a loud screech of a meow to get Hizashi’s attention. ‘Come on, Sunshine, I’m right here. I know your vision isn’t the best, but it’s not that bad.’

“Sorry, he can be pretty loud,” Hitoshi mumbled, Shouta noticing that Hizashi was staring at him, still and silent and all traces of joking wiped away from him “He, uh, I think he might have been hanging around the school the last few days before I found him.”

“Oh. The last few days, huh?” Hizashi’s stillness faded from him and Shouta realized with a detached sense of horror that Hitoshi had just convinced Hizashi that the cat following him wasn’t Shouta.

Taking a moment to take deep breaths just like he taught Hitoshi, Shouta calmed himself as best he could, ‘Kid, we are going to have a very long talk about assuming information, no matter how minor it may be. That can be how heroes die and villains escape.’

“Kind of big for a stray, though,” Hizashi pointed out, kneeling and holding his hand out. Shouta didn’t even hesitate to press against it, closing his eyes and trying to pretend that for a moment, just a moment, everything was okay. “Friendly, though. Did you give him a name?”

There was a very audible silence, Shouta cracking his eyes open to see that Hitoshi was looking embarrassed and avoiding eye contact while Hizashi was slowly grinning. That man could sniff out an embarrassing story a mile away, honestly. ‘Don’t be mean, Hizashi,’ Shouta lectured, pawing at Hizashi’s cheek and getting his attention back on him.

Hizashi went willingly, as he always did, but then gave Shouta a confused and almost hopeless look, mumbling a soft, “Friendly, but not the stray I’m looking for.” Oh, Hizashi. No… No, he was right there.

“Mic-sensei, is Aizawa-sensei still…” Hitoshi’s quiet voice startled them both, Shouta hating the villain who had done this to him so much more as Hizashi hid behind a bright smile.

“We haven’t found him yet, but you know how he is. We’ll probably find him when he just strolls into school one day to continue class all while insisting that nothing happened.” Hizashi gave Shouta one last scratch before standing up, his smile a bit more genuine. “Until then, however, we have to keep doing our best, yeah?”

Right. Shouta needed a new plan. Moving to sit in the corner and let the two begin training, Shouta tried to figure out what he could do. The one student who could help him was out sick, and he knew from personal experience that Nedzu had no ability to understand cats beyond simple body language.

There was no way the police station would let in a stray cat, and his agency would be on the lookout in the future after his last attempt. It was possible they would be made aware of his condition if the villain they captured talked, but that could take weeks depending on how much will the man had; or how much fear he had.

No… his best shot would be to follow Hizashi back home and try to find a way to convince him there. Hitoshi may have missed the signs, but Hizashi had a lot more experience and was a lot smarter than people gave him credit for. If nothing else, then Shouta could dig out one of their old scrapbooks and point out pictures of himself. That, along with his appearance, should clue Hizashi in quickly, no matter what Hitoshi had said to influence his thoughts.

Decision made, Shouta settled down and decided to watch the two until the session was over. It wasn’t hard to see that Hizashi was hiding away all his worries and pain, instead focused on Hitoshi and his training.

Shouta watched as Hizashi went over what the teen should be working on, helped him with his poses, reassured him whenever he faltered, and was always quick to cheer him up with a story when it looked like frustration was going to get the best of Hitoshi. Hizashi was doing his best to make everything seem like it was normal and Shouta loved him so much for that alone.

He loved him so much it hurt and Shouta couldn’t even tell him. He had always been silent by nature, but now he was forced to be quiet and, somehow, he had found that he had more to say than he would have thought.

“Alright, let’s call it here for today, yeah?” Hizashi laughed as Hitoshi groaned and collapsed on the floor, Shouta wandering over after a few light stretches to run a paw through Hitoshi’s hair, the gel near completely worked out from all the sweating and moving he had done.

‘Nice work. You’re improving a lot with the binding cloth.’ He had been hesitant, at first, to let Hitoshi train with it, but the teen had gone above and beyond his expectations.

“Looks like your cat is even congratulating you,” Hizashi teased, helping Hitoshi to sit up and checking him over with a careful eye, pleased when he saw the same thing Shouta no doubt did. Hitoshi was tired and exhausted, but perfectly healthy and fine. “You know, it’s getting pretty late and the trains will stop running soon. You could always stay over the night, if you want.”

Hitoshi blinked, looking surprised while Shouta perked up, pleased to see that Hizashi could read his mind even when like this. This was the perfect chance. Hitoshi would be safe at their place and Shouta could work on convincing Hizashi that he was, well, himself.

“O-Oh- No, that’s- I mean- Flattering, but-” Hitoshi fumbled with his words, finally calming down when Hizashi sat down beside him properly and rubbed at his back. “Thank you, really, but my, uh, my parents would probably worry if I just stayed out without letting them know ahead of time, you know, since I sometimes help out with the younger kids.”

‘Kid, that’s bullshit and you know it,’ Shouta snapped, wishing he could knock some sense into the kid. ‘You’re not safe there! Hizashi- Hizashi, I know you can understand me in some way, you can’t let him go back there alone!’

Hizashi was quiet, expression shadowed before it changed to a smile when Hitoshi glanced up at him, “That’s okay, Hitoshi.” No! It wasn’t! “Let them know ahead of time that you’ll be having dinner with us in a few nights when Shouta gets back, though, okay? It’ll just be the three of us, if that sounds okay to you.”

“That… that sounds great.” Hitoshi’s hand found Shouta’s ruff and fingers dug into the fur tightly, as if afraid to let go. “A few nights, right?”

“At most,” Hizashi promised, looking down at Shouta. “Looks like you have a new friend to keep you company at home, though.”

And that was the crux of it all, wasn’t it? Shouta could go with Hizashi for the night and get him to eventually see that it was Shouta, but there was no way, no way in hell, that Shouta could let Hitoshi go back to that house alone now that he knew what was waiting for him.

Lost in his thoughts for a moment, Shouta looked up to see that Hitoshi had stood and started heading towards the door to leave, Hizashi still sitting on the ground with an expression that was so tired.

Walking forward a few steps, Shouta gave a quiet noise, Hizashi looking down at him for a moment before giving one of those weak, sad smiles, “Sorry, but I’m not very good company at the moment.”

‘I’ll come back,’ Shouta promised, bracing his paws on Hizashi’s knees and leaning up to press his lips against the man’s forehead as best he could. ‘I promise, Sunshine, I promise I’ll come back to you, but… Someone has to keep our kid safe.’

Hearing a hitch in Hizashi’s breathing, like a choked back whimper, Shouta leaned back to see Hizashi had a hand half raised towards him, eyes wide and entire expression vulnerable. Hearing the door to the gym start to open, Shouta locked eyes with Hizashi, gave one slow blink, and then ran after Hitoshi.

“Aizawa-sensei better get back soon,” Hitoshi muttered as soon as Shouta was back at his side, the gym door closing and Hizashi disappearing behind it. It hurt more than Shouta thought it would. “He’s making Mic-sensei worry.”

‘Trust me, kid, I know.’ Shouta was out of options for today, but he’d try again tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that if he had to. Kouda would have to come back to school eventually and, barring that, one of the teachers or students would put together that the large Eraserhead-looking cat wandering around was actually him.

Shouta glanced back up at Hitoshi, the kid rambling and grinning and waving his hands about as he started telling some story about something ridiculous that had happened. If nothing else, at least he could keep his and Hizashi’s kid safe.

[shadowqueenrules-blog]

Love, Keith

Me: Hello everyone in Tumblr! So a little while ago I wrote that I was thinking about writing a Klance ‘Love Simon’ parody. Well, for those who thought I wasn’t going to do it, you were wrong. I’ve written a little bit of it (I still have a long way to go if I’m being completely honest with you) but I was thinking that it might be good for me to give you guys a preview and see how you react to it. Give me some notes and all that jazz. Now here is some VERY IMPORTANT INFORMATION regarding this story.

This is a Klance fic

Shiro is 18 and lives with Keith (they are brothers in this story, I don’t know what I’m going to do with the parent situation quite yet)

Red is Keith’s cat

Pidge is still 14 but because she’s so smart she is graduating with Keith

Matt is in this story at the age of 18 and in the same college as Shiro

Coran is the homeroom/science teacher

Lance, Hunk, Keith, and Allura are all are or going to become 18 throughout this story

THIS STORY ISN’T GOING TO BE QUOTE BY QUOTE FROM THE MOVIE! As much as I love the movie I am only basing my story off of it. There are going to be things that are very similar but that’s as far as I want to go with it

The scene you are about to read is when ‘Blue’ first appears. This is going to be VERY similar to the movie because I couldn’t think of anything else. But the dialogue is all mine. If you have a problem with that then you can just leave. Other than that please enjoy the sneak preview of ‘Love, Keith’!!!

Ring! Ring!

Ring! Ring!

Ring-

“Allura?” I asked picking up my phone looking at the time. 9:23pm. “If this about doing another late night Taco Bell run, you can count me out. I still haven’t recovered from last month-”

“No!” She interrupted-loudly I might add. “Though I am craving one of their taco bowls right now-anyway! I was calling to see if you heard about the new post yet?” I rolled my eyes going back to figuring out my english homework. I honestly should’ve known she was calling me because of some post. I thought back to this morning when she told us the real reason three of the science classrooms were closed down this week.

“I swear, Zethrid needs to work on her anger issues. I don’t care if Coran gave her a C-, it doesn’t give her the right to blow up the science department.”

“Not that post!” She screamed louder.

“Allura!” Another voice called out from the line.

“Sorry Father!” I chuckled under my breath deciding to push my english homework aside and open up my laptop.

“Then what post are you talking about?” I slowly type up the website waiting for my slow-ass internet to open it up.

“I’m talking about the closeted bi-guy at school.” My eyebrows shot up right as the website finally loaded. My breath got caught in my throat as I saw the post she was talking about. It was at the very top of the page with a picture of what seems to be looking up towards the sky from deep within the ocean. The closeted bi-guy at school. The closeted bi-guy at school. The closeted bi-guy at school. The words spoken only moments ago repeated in my head on a constant loop blocking out almost everything around me. “Who do you think it is? I think it may be Rax, I get a weird vibe off of that guy. I mean, he can’t seriously be that mad over Hunk having a crush on his sister.” Almost. I knew I had to hang up on her. Even though we haven’t known each other long, she usually can read me like a freaking book. I took a look around my room trying to find anything I could use as an excuse. My head swerved towards my door just in time to see a orangish-red furball walk in and her golden eyes connected with mine.

“Can I call you back? Red just threw up on the carpet big time.” I lied hoping she would buy it. Hearing this, Red narrowed her eyes and meowed at me.

“Oh no! Actually I have to head off to bed soon. We can talk more about this tomorrow, okay?” I silently sighed in relief grabbing the small bag of treats I had stuffed in my desk drawer and tossed one over to Red. She glared at it before hesitantly taking the peace offering.

“Yeah, talk tomorrow.” I hung up on her without another word and looked back to the screen. I knew she would has questions tomorrow about it but at that point I couldn’t care less.

The-Blue-Prince

Drowning in the Sea of my Emotions

There are days where I know exactly what I want to say and would scream them to the world. And there are days, like today, where I feel like the whole world is crashing down upon me and I feel like I’m drowning in all of my emotions. I can see the sun glistening off of the water as I fall in deeper and I hold my breath, hoping someone jumps in to come save me. I had a realization….or an acceptance with something about a year ago. I mean it’s not like I haven’t thought that I was bisexual before but I always denied it till now and I don’t know how to deal with it. No one in my life knows and I don’t want to tell them yet. How can I? When I finally accepted it I was curled up in my bed crying my eyes out, not because I am ashamed with it but because I was so sure that I knew myself, that I have worked on myself so much that I knew exactly who I was. And I was wrong. I don’t know how my family will react to the news whenever I have a chance to tell them, no matter how supportive they are I know that there’s a fine line with what they will and will not go with. And even if they say they support me being bisexual I know that someone will still be weird about it. How do I even tell them? It’s not like its easy to put into conversation. Like, “hey Mom, remember how I kept saying I was straight? Nope! I like both guys and girls”? I know my friends will support me no matter what, just like I support them, right now I just wish that they were with me. I wish that they would hug me and let me release all the emotion within myself. All of the doubt and denial I have been having, all my fears of my family’s reaction, I want to let it all out. But I’m too much of a coward to tell them. So, here I am, instead of getting ready to run some errands I’m writing this on Voltron for my classmates and random strangers alike to see and am very close to crying once again. Like I said I’m not ashamed, in fact I love that I finally admitted this to myself. It marks another point in my path to self discovery. I just wish I had found out sooner. Maybe then I wouldn’t be drowning. Maybe I can finally break the surface of the sea of my emotions and swim back to shore… And maybe on that sandy shore there is somebody extraordinary just waiting for me to show up.

-Blue

I sucked in a breath rereading the post over and over again. There’s someone else! What should I do? Just leave it or… I looked at the signature again seeing an email address I’m sure “Blue” hadn’t meant to post. I opened up another tab and quickly made a gmail account.

To: blueprince96@gmail.com

From: redpaladin@gmail.com

Subject: Hello

Hello Blue,

I am just like you. I have an older brother in college who is both popular and the nicest guy you’ll ever meet, though he gets super awkward around this girl who he has had a crush on for as long as I can remember. Everyone admires him, and frankly I can’t blame them since I admire him more than anything. He teases and embarrasses me endless but I love him to death. Plus I have a secret blackmail stash of him lip syncing to ‘Risky Business’ when he forgot that I had gotten sick and couldn’t go to the zoo with my class that I’m saving for when the moment arises. One thing most people don’t know about him is that he can’t sing for his life. It’s so bad that I bought noise cancelling headphones for whenever he decides he’s in a good enough mood to sing in the shower.

I have friends that I cherish. Two of them I’ve known since first grade which practically makes them my siblings and one that I’ve met a few years ago when my brother was in high school and challenged her to a weight lifting contest. I swear he was about ready to ask her to marry him after she kicked his ass. We do what every group of kids do: play video games all night long, drink way too much coffee from Starbucks, pass inappropriate notes during class to see who would be the person to get caught first, and pretend that we are extroverts when we are actually watching some weird ass anime about a bunch of alien robotic cats on Netflix on most weekends.

Whenever I don’t have my friends in my class or it’s too risky to play our game (it’s becoming harder now as I suspect that our teachers are figuring us out), I usually like to doodle and write. Overall I am a decent student who is only getting by because of my genius friends helping me out.

Like I said, I’m just like you.

And I have one huge ass secret that nobody, not even my brother knows.

I’m gay.

-Red

P.S: You might want to take your email off your post if you don’t want jackasses hate spamming you.

I took a deep breath and hit send before my confidence left. It took a little more than a second for me to realize what I just did and another second to start freaking out. What the hell did I just do?

...........................

22 hours. 22 hours of Shiro asking me if I was okay, my friends thinking I was in one of my ‘moods’, and my inner panic monitor overflowing before I hear my laptop’s notification sound over me taking out all my feelings on my punching bag. I would say that I did not completely wipe out after tripping over my clothes as I rushed over to get to it.

“You okay there Keith?” I heard Shiro call from downstairs as I pulled myself up on my desk chair.

Unfortunately if I said that I would be completely lying.

“Yeah!” I called back trying to calm down the burn in my cheeks. I clicked open my email trying my best not to get my hopes up. 22 hours and 37 minutes after I sent the email a true smile appeared on my face.

From: blueprince96@gmail.com

To: redpaladin@gmail.com

Subject: re:Hello

Hello Red,

You don’t realize how honored I feel to hear that you chose me to come out to first. Though I totally get why you did. Sometimes It’s easier to come out to a complete stranger than your friends, no matter how close they are. When did you first realize?

It sounds like you love your brother a lot. BTW, how dare you have that beautiful creation as blackmail! You cannot tell me you’ve never done that dance before. For one, I wouldn’t believe you. And two, if you really haven’t then you are not human. I have a ton of siblings but I’m closest to my older sister. She wants to be a fashion designer and makes me model for her sometimes. I don’t mind though. I keep telling her that her stuff is ready to be out in the world, because they are amazing, but she’s not confident enough yet.

What kind of stuff do you write and draw?

-Blue

P.S: Thanks for the heads up on my email. I took that part down

Back then, as I typed my reply, nothing in the world would have prepared me for what would happen.

.........................

There it is folks! I’m debating about writing Keith’s response to Blue’s last email but let me know what you guys think! And if you guys followed me early last month you may recognize Blue’s post, it’s because it’s mine (with some minor changes) that I posted when I accepted my sexuality.

[set--suna]

A Different Mask

Hi this is bad but I'm posting it anyway -- The world of the Phantom Thieves was a hilly one. There were challenges and calm, dangers and warm moments. But all the Phantom Thieves had one thing in common: they went through their pain together. They had been there for each other when nobody else possibly could be. When one Thief couldn't be there, there was always another to help with whatever pain one had. They were, as they say, thick as thieves. All the Phantom Thieves had reached one unconscious conclusion, as well: none of them had been through as much as their leader. They all agreed on it, even if they didn't know it. Akira Kurusu deserved the world. -- The group would always be there for each other. Akira knew that fully well. Yet he never leaned on them when things got rough in his head. They all relied on each other, but Akira couldn't bring himself to put his problems on their shoulders. Whenever his confidence wavered in a Palace, the team was always hyping him up. But that's all they saw. They didn't see his emotions outside the Metaverse. Those were his only secret. They didn't know about his nightmares. They didn't know the reason he listened to all of their problems was so they didn't end up like him. He wanted them to have someone to turn to. So he locked his feelings away to be the cool and collected leader he was. Supposedly. He kept his trauma inside. He kept the anger he felt when his friends were taunted and teased contained. He tried to make the comments from the kids at Shujin go in one ear and out the other. Whenever someone looked at him with that look of disapproval, he oh so tried to shake it off. But it all made him have days where everything just felt... numb. Like nothing he did mattered. These days were the days he thought about betrayal. Where he thought about his friends leaving him behind. Abandoning him. Akira Kurusu was scared. Today was a day where his feelings slipped themselves into every crack of his thoughts they could find. They partially distracted him at school, made his comments to his friends sound half-hearted when he truly meant them, kept his responses to Sojiro short, and made him reluctantly obey Morgana when he told him to sleep. "Hey, Akira, what'd you get on the third question of the test? I put B, but I'm not very confident in my answers," Ann sighed, resting her head on her hand. She had her mouth in a pout with her genuine look of unconfidence. "I got B, too," Akira responded. He sounded uninterested, but he really wanted to boost Ann's spirits. "Oh, great!" Ann said with a smile. "That makes me feel better." She spun back around when the next teacher walked in the room. He didn't miss her look of slight concern while she turned. "Welcome back. How was school?" Sojiro asked when the bell rang above the door to LeBlanc. "Good, as always," Akira responded, it didn't come out as he intended it to. Sojiro just laughed softly, "An answer I'd expect from you." He frowned as Akira moved towards the stairs, absentmindedly wiping away at a glass. "So, you ready to go to bed?" Morgana asked later. "Yep," Akira replied, sliding under the covers. "I'm tired." "For once," Morgana said sarcastically. "Goodnight." "Goodnight," Akira turned on his side and shut his eyes. He didn't see Morgana jump on the bed and give him a worried look. He just felt him curl up next to him and release a sigh. -- Akira had a nightmare. He was back in Okumura's Palace. A crowd of worker robots surrounded him and his friends. They had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. They fought and they fought to no avail. Akira had to watch as his friends fell around him, one by one. Ann was bleeding from a wound on her head. Makoto's arm was broken at the elbow, told by it's odd angle. Yusuke was so beaten he couldn't stand. Futaba was trapped outside the circle, not hurt but in danger. Morgana was struggling to stay conscious. Ryuji's leg had given out on him due to the stress. Haru was standing mostly uninjured, but her father's shadow was pestering her with "Okumura Daughter" duties. Akira was helpless he couldn't do anything. He was exhausted. He fell to his knees. "This is what brats like you get for meddling in the wrong business," Okumura walked to Akira. "You get beat." There was a gun shot, but Akira missed it. He woke with a start. He was shaking. He felt lightheaded. He couldn't focus. He pulled his knees to his chest and squeezed them tight. He didn't notice Morgana stir next to him. Morgana didn't move. He didn't want to move. He didn't want to risk Akira's panic getting worse. Instead he just pretended to shift in his sleep. Akira's shaky hand reached for the windowsill. He grabbed his phone and checked the group chat. Nobody had said anything since their final goodnights. He wanted to talk with someone, anyone. But who would be awake at this time of night? He gave in. Akira: Is anyone awake? Ryuji: yeah Ann: yep Futaba: mhm Yusuke: Yes. Haru: I am. Makoto: So we're all awake at this ungodly hour? Ryuji: i couldnt sleep Ann: Me neither Ann: I keep falling asleep and waking up again Haru: I get how you feel, I was just thinking of texting you all myself. Yusuke: I am only awake because Futaba is keeping me up with her constant messaging. Futaba: this is important stuff im sending you! Yusuke: You are sending me pictures of foxes in costumes. Futaba: EXACTLY Makoto: So in one way or another... We all are having a struggle with sleeping. Ryuji: thats what it looks like Ryuji: aww man i wish we could meet up Ryuji: im not even sure if i feel tired anymore Ann: I mean, it's almost 5, we could meet up anyways? Makoto: When did everyone go to bed? Ryuji: 10 Ann: 9:45 Haru: Nine 'o clock. Yusuke: Eleven Akira: 10:30 Futaba: ive taken naps throughout the day so im not really tired Makoto: I see. Makoto: Well, I guess we all got reasonable hours of sleep. Makoto: I will permit this once, and only because we are all in the same boat here. Ryuji: all right! Ann: Yes! I've always dreamed of doing something like this! Yusuke: Where should we meet? Ryuji: how about Akira's place? is that ok? the place doesn't open until 8, right? Akira: Yeah, it should be fine. Haru: What about Mona? Is he awake? Akira poked the cat with his finger. His hand still felt slightly shaky, but he was calming. Morgana meowed in reply, but rolled onto his side to look up at Akira. Akira: He's up. Futaba: Great! See you all there! Akira sat his phone screen down on his bed. Morgana now laid on his stomach, his tail swishing around. "What's up?" he asked drowsily. "Everyone's coming over. No one could sleep except you," Akira replied, semi-sarcastic. "Ok, might wanna fix that bedhead of yours a bit, though," Morgana replied. -- Futaba was quick to hop onto Akira's bed, sitting criss-cross for once. Ryuji sat on one end of the couch and Ann on the other, stretching her legs out across Ryuji's lap. Makoto and Haru sat on the floor by the sofa. Yusuke simply took a chair. "Man, I'm glad to be outta my house. There was no chance of me sleepin' anymore," Ryuji groaned. "Every time I shut my eyes, they just wanted to open again," Ann complained through a partial yawn. "I would fall asleep for an hour at a time. It's rare I sleep like that," Haru shook her head. "Do we all have something on our mind that's keeping us up?" Makoto questioned why this was happening. "Umm... not that I can think of," Ann answered. "There's nothing that would keep me up at night except Futaba," Yusuke commented. "Shut it, Inari," Futaba responded. Akira fumbled for words. He ran a hand through his hair in thought. While the others maintained a steady conversation on sleep habits, Akira was lost in his thoughts. He wanted to tell them. He didn't want to keep his emotions a secret anymore, they deserved to know. They cared about him and should know when he's feeling down. But how could he start? He didn't have to. "Akira? You ok?" Morgana asked, tail swishing. "You look kind of out of it." "Now that he mentions it, ya do, dude. What's up?" Ryuji is quick to follow up. Akira hesitates, "There... There's something I need to tell you all." Akira talked the most he had ever talked at once then. He told them about his nightmares of losing them and everything he's ever known. He told them about his emotions building up and how he felt like crap on those certain days. He poured his heart out in a matter of minutes because he wanted to stop hiding this. He wanted to stop being scared. He talked about the trial and being sent to Tokyo by his parents and how it made him feel so... abandoned. Betrayed. "Akira... You know you can talk to us, man," Ryuji was frowning though he was definitely concerned. "Yes, you will always be one of us," Yusuke spoke, sitting on the edge of his seat. "Mhm, text me whenever and I'll be sure to respond!" Futaba nodded encouragingly. "We will always be there for you, Akira," Makoto had slid closer and placed a hand on his knee. "Wherever we may be, we will always be willing to talk." Akira felt his hands get shaky again. But there was no fear or panic this time, just relief. They still saw him as Joker, their leader. Their tactician. Their friend. "I never would have known this affected you so much if you hadn't told us," Ann frowned guiltily. "Yeah, I feel bad," Ryuji looked sad. He faced Akira seriously. "Just worry about yourself, man, before you worry about what others say." "They don't know you like we do, anyways," Futaba added. Akira nodded. His face was hot. He was struggling to keep his shaky hands under control. He felt tears welling behind his eyes. Why was he still trying to keep his emotions in? "I'm glad you told us about this," Haru smiled at him warmly. "You can surely rely on us as much as we have relied on you, leader," Yusuke says assuringly. Futaba quickly hugged Akira's arm when he began to cry. It ended up with all of the Phantom Thieves on or around his bed. Ann was on his other side, head on his shoulder. Ryuji sat on the other side of Futaba, his hand lingering close to Akira. Makoto was kneeling in front of him, clasping a hand in both of hers. Yusuke and Haru sat in chairs on either side of her, leaning in close to fill the circle. Akira's free hand was on his face, wiping away tears that kept being replaced. Morgana squeezed in and curled up in his lap, nudging him with his nose. "We're a team, Akira. Teammates never leave another behind," he said, closing his eyes. The Phantom Thieves of Hearts had always had one thing in common: they shared their pain together. And they all awakened to one more thing; Akira Kurusu deserved the world.

[footbaliimagines]

proud (an antoine griezmann imagine)

summary: atletico madrid get knocked out of the copa del rey and antoine looks to his girlfriend for comfort

You hadn’t been able to make it to the game that evening. Instead of heading to Barcelona to watch the match live and cheer Atletico on from the stands, you’d been forced to rely on Twitter, thanks to your boss insisting on holding a meeting the next morning at 9am.

If it were any other match, you would have been disappointed. Instead, you’re kind of grateful. Watching Antoine’s face fall and a sad smile grace his features as the team applauded the away fans had been bad enough through your laptop screen, and you’re pretty sure seeing it in the flesh would have been enough to make you never want to watch a football match again.

“Hey, babe.” You speak softly.

You’re sat in front of your laptop with Skype up and running, with a highlights video of the game open on another tab, your legs crossed and an array of takeaway pamphlets scattered in front of you. “Hi.” His voice is quiet and he sounds utterly broken, and your heart splinters even further.

It had been a frustrating year. Antoine gives so much, works so hard, and to be faced with disappointment again had undoubtedly been hard on him. He’ll be overthinking, blaming himself, replaying every kick and pass and shot in his brain until his head spins.

You ask, trying to keep your voice cheerful, “How are you?” It’s a dumb question, nothing but small talk, and you hear him exhale.

You look at him through your laptop screen. He’s sat alone in his hotel room, slumped forward with shoulders slouched and one hand rubbing the back of his neck, the other running constantly through his damp hair. His blue eyes are wide, blinking frequently and darting around the room, in an attempt to act blasé and put on a front, constantly twitching so that the tears that are begging to fall don’t slip out.

“Exhausted. I want to come home. I don’t think I can hack spending another night here.” He murmurs.

“Come back to me soon, hey?”

He speaks delicately, “As soon as I can.”

“I’m proud of you, Antoine. More than you will ever, ever know.”

“I know you are.”

“So, so proud.” You stress. “We all are.”

“You shouldn’t be.” He mutters, looking down, his voice low and bitter.

“Stop that right now.” You order, sounding more like a primary school teacher than a supportive girlfriend. “I am proud. Please don’t start this whole ‘I-let-you-down-why-are-you-even-proud-of-me-in-the-first-place’ malarkey again.”

He glances up and presses his lips together in an apologetic smile.

“You need to be proud of yourself, too.” You add.

“It’s difficult.”

“I know.”

Then he’s back to refusing to make eye contact, playing with his finger and fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “I feel like I’m giving so much and getting nothing back in return.”

“I know.”

Antoine sighs and looks up at you, as you feel your heart about to break. “Again and again.” He chokes out. “I’m sick of getting shot down right at the end. It’s like being able to see the finish line but slipping and falling flat on your face, over and over again. I fucking hate this.”

“So do I.” You reply tenderly.

You wish you could do more than rattle off cliche comforting phrases, but it’s as much as you can do, and you know that all he needs to do is vent to open ears.

“How’s Nacho?” He pipes up after a brief moment of silence.

Rapidly changing the subject was a tactic Antoine often employed to get his mind off things and attempt to lift his spirits, taken from Filipe who told him that talking to his daughters made a loss significantly less painful. You eagerly comply, and jump to your feet, scooping Nacho, your fat grey cat who’s now meowing in discontent and whose tail is twitching in annoyance, into your arms, heading back to the view of your laptop camera. “He’s fantastic, as usual. Think he might have fleas, though.”

“You’re sending me quite mixed signals there.”

“So is Nacho.” You whine dramatically, leaning back and letting Nacho relax on your chest. “One second he’s clawing at my face to stop me from giving him kisses and the next he won’t even let me go to the toilet in peace. ”

“Gone for two nights and I’ve already been replaced.” He chuckles.

“I think he misses his Dad.”

“We are not getting another cat-“

“I meant you, stupid.”

“I know you think it’s cute to pretend that Nacho’s our baby, but I still think it’s kind of strange.”

“He is my baby, though.”

“You are so weird.” He laughs, and it’s the first time he’s sounded genuinely positive during the entirety of your Skype call.

“Still want a second cat. Still think we’re his parents.”

“Still love you, even though you’re an absolute nutcase.”

“And I’m still endlessly proud of you, even though for some weird fucking reason you think I shouldn’t be.”

He sighs and opens his mouth to reply, but you shake your head and cut him off. “No, don’t start with that again, Antoine. I will always be proud of you, always. You could sky an easy shot at an open goal in the last minute of the World Cup final and I would still be proud of you.”

“Well, you’ve just gone and jinxed it now.”

“Stay away from empty goals, Griezmann, you hear me?”

Antoine laughs, a light and melodic sound that pulls on your heart strings and makes you grin as you pull your laptop closer. Nacho jumps off your lap with a thump. “Loud and clear.”

“Good.”

“Thank you for cheering me up, darling.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank Nacho.” You smile, as Nacho flops onto his side and begins to kick the corner of the rug on your living room floor. You frown, “He’s doing that weird thing where he kicks the rug and rolls over again.”

“We have a psychopath of a cat. He’s absolutely mental.”

“Like owner, like cat. That’s the saying, isn’t it?”

“Probably.”

“I better go. Koke’s at the door and he’s just texted to say they’ve bought pizza, and if I don’t answer I’m pretty sure they’ll break down the door to make sure I’m not rotting away in my own sweat.”

“I’ll let you go, then.” You smile wistfully at him. “I love you, and I’m proud of you. I will be until the very last time you lace up your boots.”

And your voice breaks, a sudden lump appearing in your throat as you feel your eyes sting with tears. 

Fuck.

(You’re meant to be the one comforting him, not the other way round.)

“Don’t get soppy on me, now.” He teases. “You know I’ll cry if you do.”

“I’m sorry, sorry.” You shake your head and rub the tears away from under your eyes. “But you know what they say, right? That corny shit about how experiencing the lows makes you appreciate the highs even more? And how you have to deal with the rain if you want it to, uh, not rain?”

Antoine laughs. “Yes, babe, I’ve also read the ‘top 100 cheesy football quotes’, like you clearly have done.” He’s teasing you and if it were any other day you would have fired back, all guns blazing, but his eyes are sparkling and there’s a smile tugging at his features again

It’s a nice change to have humour and adoration glistening in his eyes rather than salty tears. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”

“I love you.”

——

A.N.: for the anon who requested something about antoine/atletico after the copa del ray match a few days ago. i wrote this quite quickly so i’m sorry if it’s not my best stuff (but i love antoine and will write virtually anything for him leeeet’s be honest) either way i hope you liked this!!!! 

(also i was massively inspired by my absolute weirdo of a cat when writing about nacho haha)

as usual thank you so much for everything and check out my masterlist ond my ask box to let me now what you think, come and say hi or request something!!!

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Always You Three- Year One

Pairing: Fred Weasley/Oc

Warnings: None

Word Count:2645

Summery: Andromeda Malfoy was the pride of her family, that is, until she was sorted into Gryffindor. Who better than Fred and George Weasley to help her navigate five years of being shunned by her father? But when the Triwizard Tournament arrives, her father devises a plan and Andy is thrown into a world of deadly challenges, friendships becoming something more and dark family secrets.

“Hufflepuff!” The sorting hat shouted and the table decorated with yellow and black erupted with applause.

            “Andromeda Malfoy.” Professor McGonagall called out my name and I straightened my robes. As I strode confidently up the steps, I could hear people scoffing and muttering amongst themselves. Everyone knew which house I was going to be in. Every person in my family had been in Slytherin during their years at Hogwarts, except for one, but no one ever talked about him.

            I sat down on the stool and the professor placed the hat on my head. Before it even touched a single black hair on my head, it seemed to know its answer.

            “Sl-” It silenced itself. “Now wait just a moment.” I swallowed. What did it mean wait? “You long to impress your family, but there is a certain spark within you that I simply cannot ignore.” These words were only heard by me for the tables were still alive with anticipation and chatter. “Indeed, you would thrive in Slytherin, but even now, as you hope to live up to your family’s name, you know that you have always been different. But where to place you? You are quick witted and you excel in studies, but you are also loyal, no matter what your family’s past.  I can tell that you will stand up for what you believe is right, and though you are afraid, you will even stand against those you love, which is a great act of courage.”

            “Get on with it!” A student shouted receiving a fit of giggles, but a cold glare from McGonagall.

            “Gryffindor!” The hat’s voice rang through the hall and the room went silent. My heart plummeted. There must be some mistake. I am Andromeda Malfoy, a well raised pure blood. I was born to be a Slytherin. McGonagall, seeming shocked herself, ushered me off the stool and called up the next first year. No one cheered as I cautiously walked to the Gryffindor table. The only sound was the light clapping from the head table.I lifted my eyes from the ground and saw Headmaster Dumbledore smiling at me, his gaze wise, yet curious. When I found a seat, the other students gave me a look and quickly scooted away. I held my head up, pretending I didn’t need their approval.

            Later that night, I read a letter from my mom, realizing that she would want to know what house I got into even though she shouldn’t have to ask. I should have been sitting in the Slytherin common room, snickering with other Pure Bloods. Instead, I sat sniveling in front of the fire while everyone else was asleep. Or I had thought they were all asleep.

            “Crying on the first day?” Exclaimed a voice.

            “Bad sign.” Responded another. I turned to see a red headed boy sitting next to me.

            “Definitely.” I glanced to my other side, gasping as I found the same boy. They both laughed.

            “Twins.” I grumbled. I looked over both of them. “Ginger, musty old robes: you two must be Weasleys.”

            “Snobbish.” One remarked.

            “Robes in pristine condition.” The other noted. “Aha! You must be a Malfoy.”

            “My father told me to stay away from your sort.” I said in a tone that made me realize why they thought I was snobbish.

            “Your family and our family don’t get along.” The boy on my right explained. “I’m Fred by the way. That’s George.”

            “I’m Andromeda.” I announced proudly, wiping away the wetness on my cheeks. Fred snickered. “What?”

            “Nothing. It’s just a long, Malfoyish name.”

            “Well…” I thought for a moment and remembered the name Draco used to call me when he was young and couldn’t pronounce my name. “How about Andy?”

            “I like it.” The twins nodded in agreement.

            “Okay Andy,” George started, his expression softening. “Why are you crying?”

            “Oh… I just- I have to tell my parents I got sorted into Gryffindor.”

            “What’s so bad about that?” Fred wondered.

            “Every member of my family was sorted into Slytherin except for one, and he’s in Azkaban.”

            “Well if it makes you feel better, almost everyone in your family is in Azkaban.” George joke and Fred kicked him. “Ow! What was that for?” I giggled.

“What are you two doing out here anyway. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“George and I like to think we’re nocturnal.” Fred grinned.

“Pranks are fun during the day, but it’s at night when the real fun happens.” George added, rubbing his shin.

            “We should probably get to bed.” I glanced toward the clock.

            “See you tomorrow?” Fred asked.

            “I won’t tell my parents if you don’t tell yours.” I grinned mischievously. They both smiled and answered at the same time.

            “Deal.”

                                                           * * *

            The chaos that ensued in the next few weeks was more than I had expected when I became friends with the twins, but it was just as perfect as I had hoped. They always made me laugh, trying especially hard to cheer me up when my mother said that my father might be ‘to busy’ to write me at school. Even my younger brother Draco stopped writing me letters. At first I was devastated, but the twins often encouraged me that I was brave in writing them myself that I was in Gryffindor and they said that if my family couldn’t see how wonderful I was then it was their loss. This didn’t completely make me feel better, but it did help.

            Their first big plan for the year, was to break into the horribly stiff Mr. Filch’s office and see what he had collected from students over the years. I, of course, was skeptical, knowing that if we got caught, everyone would know that we were friends. But they insisted that I come with them, it would be like some kind of  initiation into their two-member club.

            We started after the sun had gone down and everyone, including the twin’s overly pompous brother Percy, had gone to sleep. Lee Jordan, Fred and George’s other best friend, also came along, more than willing to be the distraction to get Filch away of his office.

            “So here’s the plan,” Fred whispered, laying out a small map they had drawn. “Lee will go to the library, and open the screaming book in the restricted section.”

“How do you know that there’s a screaming book in the restricted section?” I wondered. “Don’t you need a teacher’s note to get in?” I almost said; “Don’t be dense. You can’t get into the restricted section without a teacher’s permission. And you couldn’t possibly have gotten that.” But then I remembered that I was trying not to be a total prat now a days.

            “Ah, young, innocent Andy, you have so much to learn.” George sighed playfully.

            “We broke in on the second night.” Fred answered. “Looked around a bit- found some pretty interesting things.”

            “I’ll go and make a ruckus, making sure Filch will be one the other side of the castle when you get in his office.” Lee chimed.

            “While Filch is in the library, we’ll get to his office from this corridor.” George pointed to a hallway on the map. “The three of us will look around and take anything worth taking.”

            The four of us snuck out of the common room and down the hall, Lee going in the opposite direction.

            “Don’t forget to get out of there before you can get caught, or you’ll get detention for a week.” George warned.

            “I know. I’ll see you guys back in the common room.” Lee grinned before continuing toward the library. Fred, George, and I made our way around the castle, checking every corner in case Filch or another teacher was patrolling. Soon, we found Filch’s office, but halted at the sound of an angry meow.

            “Mrs. Norris!” I exclaimed in a whisper. She scurried off. “I hate that cat.”

            “We better hurry before she brings Filch back.” Fred turned to the door and tried to open it, but it was locked. I sighed and pointed my wand at the lock.

“Alohomora.” The lock clicked and opened. The office was cluttered, despite Filch being a neat-freak. A large trunk sat behind the desk, with a large lock on the front. I tried the spell again, but nothing happened.

            “There must be an enchantment on it.” I groaned, defeated. “We better get back to the common room.”

            “Or….” Fred’s eyes sparkled and I knew he was going to say something I would regret. “We could wait for Filch to get back and get the key.”

            “Are you crazy?” I almost shouted. “If Filch comes back, they’ll send a letter to our parents, and I can’t get in trouble.”

            “If you want to go back, go ahead. But there’s gotta be some good stuff in here if he had it enchanted.”  I thought for a moment, and for some reason, my curious side over powered my logical.

            “Fine, we’ll wait.”

            “Fred, go be look out, I’ll find somewhere for us to hide, and Andy look around and see if there’s a slight chance he left the key in here.” George began to search the room for any dark corners or tables to hide under. I rummaged through the desk until I came across a large piece of blank parchment.

            “Hey George… why would Filch keep an old piece of paper?” I questioned.

            “I don’t know, but that looks like a map.”

            “A map with nothing on it?” I raised an eyebrow.

            “Or a map that can only be revealed with magic.” He tapped his wand to the paper.

            “Mr. Prongs would like to advise amateurs like the Weasley twins and especially a Malfoy to leave the pranks and raiding to the professionals.” I read out loud. “It’s just some stupid paper made to insult people.”

            “No, it’s a map. Whoever this Prongs was must have put a spell on it.” George concluded. “There must be a password or something.” Fred peaked his head in the door.

            “You two better hurry up. I can hear footsteps.”

            “We’ll just have to settle with this.” I put the paper in my robe pocket and pulled George behind me.

            “But we didn’t open the chest.” He whined.

            “We’ll have plenty to do while we try to figure out how to use the map, now let’s go!”  Fred ran behind us as soon as we could hear Filch’s shouts. We ran through the dark halls and up the moving staircases until we lost the strict caretaker. We found the fat lady’s portrait and said the password, and despite her sleepy protests she let us through.

            “I don’t know about you two, but I’m exhausted. I’m going to bed.” I took the paper out of my pocket and handed it to them.

            “You’re not going to help figure out the password?” Fred looked at me with his big brown eyes and pouted.

            “Did you guys find anything?” Lee asked sleepily from the couch.

            “The trunk was locked and Mrs. Norris found Filch before we could get it open.” Fred lied.

            “That’s too bad. I’ll be in bed if any of you need me.” Lee shuffled upstairs and I began to follow him.

            “Why didn’t you tell him about the map?” I wondered.

            “It’ll be our secret.” Fred smirked. I smiled and went up the stairs and dreamed of mischievous red heads.

            That school year I learned how to levitate a feather and how to make a cure for boils, but none of that compared to what I learned from Fred and George. They taught me that some rules are meant to be broken and that being a Pure Blood wasn’t really anything to be proud of. Instead, I took pride in getting the best score of my class in potions. Professor Snape even seemed to like me.

            During the year, about a month after we found the mysterious map, Fred and George were taking guesses of the password, and the map seemed to be helping them figure it out by lighting up whenever they were getting closer to the answer, they used the right set of words and the Marauder’s Map revealed itself, showing the entire grounds of Hogwarts including secret passage ways that we often used to get around. It also showed everyone in Hogwarts, with their names and a pair of footprints that moved as the person moved. It helped us know where Filch was and which route to take to avoid him. With the map’s help, we only ever got caught twice throughout the school year. Like the time we enchanted some of Professor McGonagall’s books to soar across the room and land on the Slytherins. We got two weeks of detention, but luckily she didn’t write to my parents.

            But as the year came to an end, I realized that I would be going home to a family that was disgusted by me. As the train moved forward through the vast valleys, Fred and George joked around with Lee, and I would fake a smile whenever they talked to me, trying to hide the tears brimming my eyes.

“Hey,” Fred tilted his head so he could see my face, “It’s going to be okay. George and I will write every week.” I shook my head.

“We can’t write.” I said sadly. “ It’s too much of a risk, someone will read them.”

“Well I can’t go the entire holiday without talking to you. We’ll just… come up with code names.” Fred got out a piece of paper and began to brainstorm. “We can be just  like the Marauders.” We all thought for a moment.

“Well it has to do with animals if we are going to be our own Marauders.” I pointed out.

“What about bird brain over here.” George pointed at Fred and Fred threw the quill at him.

“Well, what about Little Red for our little fox?” Fred suggested, looking at me.

“Where’d you get fox?” I wondered.

“You’re sneaky.” George noted. “Remember the time when you snuck into Hogsmeade right under Professor McGonagall's nose?”

“And you’re one of the wittiest people I know.” Fred added. “Besides the two of us, of course.” I punched his shoulder.

“So it’s decided. Little Red it is.” George concluded, writing down the name next to mine.

“Now what about you two cackling hyenas?” I joked.

“Hyena,” Fred mused, “I like that. How about-” The train jerked to a stop.

“Hold that thought,” I said, standing up. “I should get out of here before Percy shows up.”

“What about our names?” They asked at the same time.

“You’ll think of something.” I gave them a smile and hurried out of the compartment. I pushed passed as I exited the train and made it onto the platform. I searched through the crowd of people, looking for familiar heads of light blonde hair.

“M-miss Andromeda?” A small voice said from behind me. I turned to find Dobby, our house elf, standing timidly between a group of students.

“Dobby?” I exclaimed. “What are you doing here? Where’s mom and dad?”

“Y-your father sent me to pick you up miss.” I froze.

“H-he what?” I stuttered. I hoped at least after an entire school year, my father would want to see me when I got back.

“He said he had business at the ministry to attend to.” Dobby seemed to notice the tears. “You’re mother s-said she wanted nothing more than to see you when you got back, but you’re father insisted she go with him.” I sniffed and nodded.

“Of course. He must be extremely-” My voice cracked and I held back a sob. Dobby reached up and took my hand.  

  “Let’s get you home miss.” He said sadly. I wiped the tears off my cheeks and held my head up high… just like a Malfoy.

[thebipolar-ishblogoftim]

3 (the Riley edition)

Riley Ann,

Aka Butthead #1,

By now you know these will be long-winded, but as a preview/summary, the last year (Ok, 7 months, because I don’t remember before September 10th) can be summed up by previewing the opening of Lorelei’s birthday letter:

“Lorelei, this is your Dad, you know the one who holds you briefly only for Riley to force herself in between us or onto the other side of my lap.”

Anyways, back to our previously scheduled programming. . . .

Riley Ann,

As I am writing this it is a little bit before your birthday.  I wanted to get something in writing in case the Corona gets me.   Hopefully, you’ll never have to deal with a Corona-type issue, but I’ve seen enough stupid people to know that you probably will have to.  Also, Corona is to blame for you not having a birthday party (luckily this is probably the last year you’ll not notice/care).

The last year has been exciting and fun (and sometimes maddening) to see you grow.  You are definitely developing your own unique personality and trait mix.  

The most notable one I have noticed is how you might be the most funny person I know.  Usually, I’d say I’m the most funny (off topic aside #1, make sure you use most funny instead of funniest, or some speech class teacher will knock off points on a speech), person I know.  But, you are at least tied with me, or maybe more so.   And you don’t have to be a sarcastic ass to make me laugh (which is what usually makes me laugh when I am one).

You are SO silly and I LOVE it.  Please stay at least a little bit silly.  Always.  The best current example started when I said something sarcastic to your mother and she said “silly daddy” in front of you.  To which I was overly dramatic and said “Whhaaaatttt!?!?!?”   Then you laughed.  Now one of your fun games is to call me silly and wait for a worthy performance of “Wwhhhaaatttt!?!?” or “I am not!”  Then you sometimes say “Silly Mommy” and await for her dramatic response.  Then you ask us to say “Silly Riley” and then you get overly dramatic.  Then we all laugh.  It’s awesome.

A new silly trick you are developing is the fake pouting, and puppy dog eyes.  That is silly now, but I’m sure I will get tired of that one.  You are also silly when playing with Lorelei.  You get a lot of smiles and giggles from her.  

You are a really good big sister for your age.  Sure you don’t necessarily like to share toys or attention, but you are super helpful with her.  Or at least try to be.   You try to change her diaper, try to help bath her, try to help her roll over, etc.  You also like to play with her, although you are a bit rambunctious as you are used to horseplaying with Clayton and Kyle, so you’ll do things like lay on top of her.  Good thing she is a chunky baby and at 7 months 2/3 of your weight.  You also tried to nurse her like Mommy does.  That’s quite funny. When it was time for her to start rolling over you’d cheer her on with me “Go Lorelei Go.”  Then you’d also “help” her roll over. . . .

You love your sister so much that we are holding off having you in the same room with her.  We’ll probably end up turning the play room into her room because we doubt you will let her sleep.  When it is time to get her from the crib (ha, who am I kidding, that stupid chair you also would only sleep in), you run in there and excitedly say hi or try to get her out of the chair.   You also have a bad habit of being loud when it is time for her to sleep.  This often wakes her up and irritates Mommy.

As far as your sleeping habits. . . . not horrible.  I mean it took you a while to warm up to the idea of switching from the crib to the toddler bed.  And you wake up once a night half the time.  You still never really sleep more than 10 hours at night.  Probably because most days you are at Jolene’s at 7.   So on the days you don’t go there at 7, you are sometimes up at 6:30.  Or 6!  Then rarely you sleep til 7:30.  I surely will remember this when I do my “don’t make me a grandfather while you are a teenager” education. That toddler bed. . . . is probably the reason I have had to go to the chiropractor this year.   Since, you really only want Dad to tuck you in.  Which means contorting and laying next to you.  Sure it’s kind of annoying for me, but someday you’ll have no use for me tucking you in and I won’t be sad at all.  Not 1 bit.  Not. At. All. (I’m not crying, you’re crying).

What is annoying about your sleeping habits is nap time.  At Jolene’s you ask/beg to take naps, but when you are with Dad, it’s a struggle.  You even go to nap easily for Mom.  I always tell myself it’s because you want to hang out with me.

This year you discovered how much you like helping Mom and Dad cook.  Especially eggs.  And Pancakes.  Really anything.  But especially eggs (did I mention that already?).  You also like when we make homemade pizza.  But back to the eggs. . . I think your favorite part currently is just eating butter (OK?!?!).  You’ll eat the eggs (mostly for Mom and Jolene), and the toast too, but right now you like to try and steal bites of butter.  

Pancakes. . . well that is fun, but  we did notch a yearly “Riley Burnmark Under Dad’s Supervision in the Kitchen” incident.  To be fair, where as last year I forgot to shut the gate while I used the restroom, this year I was right beside you (wait, that doesn’t sound better. . . ).  Anyways you went to  lean over to put chocolate chips in pancakes on the griddle and your hand touched the griddle as you were falling.

Luckily, I caught you and prevented further damage.  Also luckily, we didn’t have to get any cream for those burns.   You did kind of transform into a Mommy’s Girl for a few hours though.  But you still wanted me to tuck you in that night.

Homemade pizza.  You love helping top the pizzas.  This last time I gave you excess dough to play with. . . weirdo.

You also eat noodles out of the bag or box.  Or cold leftovers (mac and cheese, corn).   At least you don’t put ketchup on your mac and cheese.

Let’s just talk about the Elsa/Frozen fascination. . . .  First of all, Anna is the better role model but. . . . you do love to wear your Elsa dress and sing Elsa songs.  You like having something in your hair so you can mimic the part in “Let It Go” where Elsa undoes her hair.

This is still better than the Kung Fu Panda Amazon series obsession.  I like the Kung Fu Panda movies, but got. SO. SICK. Of the “Paws of Awesomeness” series.

It’s both great and annoying that you get your own snacks.  We stopped getting you Lucky Charms because all you’d do is eat the marshmallows.  So you definitely got my sweet tooth.  BUT, you also eat lots of fruit and also, pickles (YUCK), I really hope Lorelei doesn’t like them), which you get from your mom.  You love ice cream too.  Now that you know the Dairy Bar, when we drive past it you say “ice cream.”  When it comes to snacking, I really hope you outgrow the whole take a bite of something then put it back in the bag thing you sometimes do.

You learned the F word this year.  Of course it was while Daddy was watching the Lions.  In Game 1 of the season.  Don’t worry, as per the typical, the Lions-induced F-bombs lessoned as the season went on as they got more irrelevant.  Also, there is a chance there might not be football this year.  But when you do see football on the table you say “Go Bucks!”  I mean you know what the OSU logo and colors look like.  You do use an OSU blanket to sleep with.   So even though some family members bribe you with $ to say “Go Blue” I know you are just conning them.

It’s probably time for some lightning round notes.  I didn’t think I would remember that much to put in here, but note taking as prep for writing is really helpful.

The “Daddy Finger” Song.  Annoying and will give me PTSD for all the times you wanted to sing it.

Your Great Aunt Mary pointed out “Does she ever not run anywhere?”  No, Riley, you always seem to be running from point A to point B.  Or you like to chase me around the island in the kitchen.

You will probably be both a tomboy and a girly girl when needed.

You are pretty good at knowing colors.  Pink seems to be either your favorite.

You love coloring.  Still love baths and water in general.  You love being outside (in fact, just today you were outside splashing in puddles. . .)

You currently try to help with chores like laundry, and dishes.  (Ha! We’ll see how long that lasts).

When I wear a work shirt you point at it and say “Daddy. . . . . . . . . . . . . “

Not sure how this came about, but when you say “Help” it sounds like an old-fashioned southern belle accent.

You love talking on the phone.  You have ended a lot of conversations by pressing end too early though.  You really love talking to Auntie A.

You love Creed.  You love to try and play tug of war with him.  You also pay no regard to him by running into him alot, but I get the feeling he knows you love him.  I mean he doesn’t bark at you.  You’ll miss him when he’s gone, but we aren’t getting another dog.

The cat. . . does not love you.  You currently chase it around.  You also like to pretend to be a cat by crawling on the back of the couch.  You also hiss and meow.

I am still not good at putting up your hair. . . as in having the ponytail tight.  But I can get it out of your face.  I don’t think your hair is ready for the vacuum trick just yet.  You don’t really like your hair up or tied back anyways.

You often wear mismatched socks and clothes.  Part of this is my doing because I lack the patience to look for matching socks.  Plus, I don’t always wear matching socks for the same reason.  But you take it to a new level when you pick out your clothes or happen to see a random skirt or pants or shorts, you will put on over your existing clothes.  You can even still fit in some pants/shorts/skirts you did a year or 18 months ago!

So far, you take after your Mom in the following ways:

You look like her (except the nose. . . .sorry)

You are particular about things, like how my arm should be wrapped around you when I tuck you in at night.  There are several other things that you do that have to be done a certain way, but I can’t remember them right now because it is 11 pm and didn’t put them in my notes.

You love baths/showers. . . now I have 2 extreme marathon bath/shower takers to deal with.  Hopefully by the time you read these, you will have experienced the joys of a tankless water heater.  Or maybe you will come to realize that water will be a very, very valuable source some day.  I mean, it already is, but probably will be more so in the future.

Stubbornness

You like people

Things you get from me:

Stubbornness (yeah, you had no shot on that one).

Silliness

Temper. . . it’s pretty quick and over with like mine usually is though.  If yours turns into simmering and being long term, I may have to put this on the other side of the ledger.

Goals for the next year:

Keep loving the outside, keep being silly, keep being a friendly person.

Share better with your sister

Dad to not let you get a burn mark

Watch less Kung Fu Panda (the series, the movies are still cool)

Realize Anna is cooler.

Charge more for those who entice you to say “Go Blue.”

Kick the diaper habit.

Kick the bink-only-at-night-habit.  (Oh, and you can bet if Lorelei gets rid of these 2 things at an earlier age, that I will give her this information as ammo when you inevitably pull some “I’m older” crap on her).

Be nicer to the cat.

To learn there is a right way to wash your hands. . .by singing “Don’t give a damn about the whole state of Michigan.”

And just keep being your wonderful, smiling, laughing self.  As you get to be more aware of the world, I hope I can help steer you to being this way, even though I am definitely not a good example of being optimistic.   If I can help raise optimistic children, then. . .  don’t tell anyone, tell them it was all your Mom, because I got a reputation to uphold.  

Love,

Dad.  (You know, the guy who switched between Dad and I in this letter.  Also the guy who is STILL pontificating even after the salutation. . . .)