#the friend group that permanently cannot sit next to each other in class

[hamsterdads]

after school hang out :]

[lillian-nator]

Wallflower AU (aka highschool au made w/ @bellfort3)

V i b e s - hanging on the roof; walking across train tracks; skipping school; Lakes, yes, something with lakes; something with different types of sodas. - My angsty teens are gonna have painted nails - Tommy bleaches his hair; Wilbur dyes his hair black - dramatic fuck. - Wilbur in eyeliner plz - Wilbur wears doc martens; black, yellow, maroon, silver shiny - Tommy's worn the same exact jean jacket for the past 5 years; it's 2 sizes bigger than he is; but he wears it every single day; it has fur on the inside; and its light washed with tears; the tears didn’t come like it; he's just ripped it over the years - He doesn't wash it very often, but he's glued patches on it, and Wilbur's drawn on it in sharpie. He just layers hoodies or flannels under it when it’s cold, but still wears it when it's hot - Tommy's also worn the same shoes for YEARS, they’re duct taped together at this point, they're white converse, they're not white anymore, and he's bleach-washed them SO many times that they permanently smell like chemicals. - The laces are frayed, so bad that he doesn’t even wear the laces most days. - Tommy doesn't shy from going in mud or water though, he'll wear the shoes to their fullest and then some. - I think you can tell by now, that Tommy just doesn’t come from a lot of money. - They live in a kind of run down town, very poor, old, smallish. - Wilbur is middle class, which is very well off in the area he lives in. - Wilbur gives off family disappointment vibes. Where he has to sneak out at night, Tommy can leave through his front door. - Wilbur calls Tommy “sunshine”, but very sarcastically since Tommy is a dick :) - Tommy has one of Wilbur's old beanies; it's black and monster branded, the monster logo is green - Wilbur gave it to Tommy 3 years ago, and Tommy never gave it back - btw Tommy's 17 and Wilbur's 19: Tommy's a junior and Wilbur's a senior - Wilbur only drinks Green Apple Monster - Tommy drinks sugar free redbull, but mostly only when Wilbur buys it for him, because Tommy usually doesn't have pocket change - Wilbur and Tommy bring speakers to the train tracks and dance and by that, its them jumping around and occasionally pushing someone over - Tommy uses his allowance to buy cigarettes; Wilbur vapes - both mentally ill - Wilbur is essentially the modern emo. He has this one yellow and black flannel that's oversized, and he wears it multiple times a week - it’s a problem.

- Dream, Wilbur, Karl, Tommy, Big Q, SapNap, Punz, and Tubbo - That’s the group. - I have just been talking about Tommy and Wilbur but they are the main characters so you can suck it. - A scene with Dream, Wilbur, Karl, Tommy, Big Q, SapNap, Punz, and Tubbo, at a lake, throwing each other in, and Tommy gets his shoes soaked, but he saves his jacket from the fall. Water gun fights, and they drink energy drinks and eat chips. they lay in the grass and contemplate life, Talk abt life yes. Abt existence. Abt how shit it is. Half of them have to wake up early and sneak home, the other half get to stay as long as they like. - Tommy tucks his t-shirts into his pants, which are always very baggy black jeans with just gigantic holes. - Tommy and Dream both have ADHD, however, Tommy's meds are purely from welfare, he cannot afford to give any out. Dream however? From an upper-middleclass family. Basically millionaires in this town. He can afford to lose some of his meds. - He yells in the clearing "COME GET YOUR DRUGS CHILDREN" - Besides, I've learned that there are like so many different ADHD meds, and maybe Tommy is just on something a lot stronger than adderall. He can't partake in the pill popping, but he doesn't mind. He does it every morning. - They don't do it often, maybe once a month, depends on how big Dream's prescription is - not that he regularly takes them like a good boy should - And I won't ever write this, but Gogy hangs out with them every so often, in which Gogy and Wilbur have an on and off again hooking up type relationship - whenever they hang out, Gogy like sits and Wilbur's lap and shit - Tommy and Punz GAG - "EW the fuck - get your hands off eachother. ITS GROSS - NO PDA IN MY BACKYARD"

- They hang out in an abandoned Building. But they don't try to fix it up. They're not fucking VSCO girls. They just want somewhere to hang out - If anything they make it worse - they fucking trash the place - It’s not intentional though - It’s like they can have fun without worrying abt the mess - just, sometimes they spill hawiian punch mixed with vodka everywhere - THEY GHOST HUNT AND OUIJA BOARD AND SHIT - They hang out in cemeteries too. they play manhunt in a cemetery, but like the regular version- like just hide and go seek in the dark. - they've done seances even though almost all of them are atheists - anyways the point of the fact is, is that half of them (excluding the minors you know) I'm looking at you Karl and Q - somethings going on between you two have made out with guys, and I'm not gonna sugar coat it, most modern like takes on religion do not take kindly to that

- they go to prom - and Dream somehow ends up with a ton of weed, because he had just turned old enough, and had the money - and they get fucking high OUT of their minds, like they're never doing it again - like, George and Wilbur definitely hooked up at Wilbur's house, which they aren't supposed to do - because Wilbur's parents will fucking flip that Wilbur is sleeping with a random person. No one is quite sure where SapNap ended up, and Tommy lost one of his shoes. In a panic, they spent the next 3 hours looking for it to find it at the lake by the school - Tommy fucking cradles it to his chest. -  (are wilburs parents homophobic?) (yes maybe a little side of homophobia) (Is wilbur bisexual or gay?) (he is ‘whoever the fuck looks bangable’) (fair enough) (he is ‘gogy my king’) (TRUUUE) - the bleachers - they hang out under the bleachers

- Gogy = Stylish stoner - very popular, but never not high - Karl is like the goody two-shoes of the group, doesn't skip class, and is on the principals list, however, he will NEVER back down from space brownies - its his weakness - Tubbo has a subway pass, and they do that thing where Tubbo swipes it and everyone fucking bolts into the subway, and they take all the trains at like 4am and just hang from the bars and shit - Wilbur still dresses relatively like, nicely and scholarly, which puts everyone off. He wears very loose sweaters with button-ups underneath. with khakis or black jeans and his docs - where his best friend, our Tommy, wears borderline yellow converse, and one bleached two-sizes-too-large jean jacket, and some second-hand-store hoodies, that are always a bit too worn in, but so, incredibly Tommy - Tommy who legit hasn't brushed his hair in years, not with a brush anyways - too frantic to brush his teeth most mornings. but always chewing gum; Tommy's always everywhere at once - ADHD meds only half-working on him, they couldn't afford the good shit - He'll never quite understand Dream handing out his adderall for free, Tommy would kill for the hard shit, but hey, he's never gonna stop his friends from having a good time

- Let's talk about Karl Jacobs - good ole' goody two shoes Jacobs - all of his teachers are constantly trying to get him to stop hanging out with Tommy and gang - every parent teacher conference is "we love your boy, but we are concerned about his friends" - Teachers have meetings with him, about how the people you surround yourself with can change your future - Karl's like, from the good side of town, plays first in the drumline, plays violin on the side, straight a's, clean-white-air-force-ones type of guy. Name brand clothes. Combed hair - Packed lunch every day from his mom; gets dropped off by his mom, kisses her goodbye; Mom is like very involved in school too - PTA parent - it's fucking good kid Jacobs - and he's sneaking off with fucking potheads to go to college parties and abandoned buildings - Does he do drugs? Well, he’s a big fan of treats if you know what I mean :wink wink: - ….you ever see Ted's video about a 500mg edible …. yeah. - big fan of gummy bears and brownies - Karl shows up to Parties and there are shouts of "Fuckin' goody-two-shoes Jacobs is HERE" - a lot of people make fun of him and think they can push him around - He seems like a softie; welcome mat type beat - but fucking watch this man chug 5 cups of whatever you give him, and then still win beer pong - Like his best friend is fucking quackity, he can do the hard shit - its very much a his parents have no clue who he actually is type beat - Look, his parents have no clue where he is ever - And if they even know he’s out, they don’t know where or with who - If his mom is at all involved in the school, she'll hear about Quackity, basically a drug dealer with how much hash weed he hands out on a daily basis. - Tommy has to be contained in order for the school to run smoothly, and Wilbur is a dramatic fuck that sleeps through most of his classes - Tommy has to take frequent breaks - They make him spend 3rd period in the principles office - Like he obviously needs help but he can’t afford it at all. Even the school can’t do anything for him bc he can’t get anything official for himself - like he can't even try to concentrate - He gave up so quickly in high school, bc they don’t have enough time or staff to help him - he tried in middle school - but man, did he give up in highschool - Yeah. He knows it is hopeless. Can't even afford college anyway. he'll just do whatever Wilbur does - here's an idea: Fucking Karl Jacobs showing up to school one morning just absolutely hammered out of his mind - Karl just showing up to first period AP Physics, and he's barely awake, honestly smells so much like weed and booze, and if he breathed anywhere near you, you could just feel the alcohol radiating from his breath - He's extra bubbly, laughs at everything - takes out his notebook to take some sort of notes, and just fucking giggles at the shapes and equations. He is very spacy, he clearly stayed up all night doing something very illegal; he gets up and jumps around. 2nd period band? oh boy - He gets sick at lunch bet - Like everyone got Drunk but Karl got FUCKED up - It was his birthday, bet - He took like 17 shots over the course of like 8 - 12ish hours, and I looked it up, despite karl being super scrawny and probably like 140 - 150ish pounds - which isn't a lot for being 5'11 - will not kill him - BECAUSE, you guessed it, he turned 17 - He didn't sleep, he was awake taking shots and just fucking who knows what until 6am when they stumbled to school - at lunch, 11:30 in the morning - he's head down on the table, miserable - he doesn't have a hangover yet, because it's only been a few hours, but man, is he nauseous - just the smell of food makes his stomach churn - and the thing about fucking Jacobs showing up drunk as hell - is that at least one of his teachers has called his mom about it - SHES PRESIDENT OF THE PTA FOR FUCKS SAKE, ONE OF THEM KNOWS HER - And the teachers aren't stupid, Karl is so obviously drunk - generally Karl is pretty quiet in class; but now he has no distinction between hanging with hs friends and being in class - he's shouting and cracking jokes and is very tempted to kick his chair over - Anyways, Karl fucks himself over, end of story  - ONTO PUNZ’S RELGIEOUS TRAUMA WOOOOOOOOOOOO - It's Punz - fuckin' golden boy Punz; he plays football; and goes to church; and calls his mother "momma"; wears a nice church outfit; and is polite to the bible study mothers that come over on tuesday nights and gets them drinks - just a fuckin' golden boy - A religious family. Go to church every Sunday. Sunday school. Holidays. But. The kid just realizes that they don’t believe in god. Them telling the group like they’re high and he’s like “you know? Some of the shit that’s happened to us proves to me that god rlly isn’t real.” - and Punz like prays every day for Tommy's dad to get his job back; or for Gogy to get better parents; or for Karl to live the life he wants; and NOTHING EVER WORKS. THEY'RE ALL STILL FUCKED. - by the way we will get the the Tommy's dad losing his job later - But Punz's life is controlled by something he doesn't even believe in anymore - because he's still going to the like church breakfasts, and christmas service, and every sunday morning, and helping his mom's ladies bible study, and his parents are talking about sending him to a youth bible camp - - and he doesn't even think he believes in god anymore. - Punz kind of took out his own personal, religious, and family struggles out the way most teenage boys do. Drinking, and lots of sex. - SO I just imagined this like, really dramatic moment, where its the morning after Punz had a one night stand at some sort of party down the street, and he's long past saving his virginity for his wife, but he's buying her the morning after pill, which his church is just so against, and he has like the moment of, "if you do this, you're done." and he does it - he's had a couple of those moments, like, when he first had sex, and when he first smoked weed, or popped a pill, or snuck out at night, or skipped church - but that was the moment of "there is no going back" - like any type of drug or procedure that aborts an embryo, or that blocks fertilization thats already in process in like: the biggest no no in his church community - so once he stepped out of that drug store, he kind of took a breath, and just came to terms with it - "I'm an atheist." - Punz is the pastors son. - he's like, pre-commited to a catholic college - he’s in deep. - so when he first announces it to his friends, one really late night, "I think god might not be my thing." - they just start whistling and say "FINALLY, THE PASTORS SON HAS TURNED AROUND." - Dream just like turns over to him "how many chicks did you fuck to make you realize that?" - Tommy just slings his arm over Punz, "I'm glad you've quit the Jesus shit, Punz. Your better than it." - There’s gotta be this girl ok. He rlly rlly wants to have sex with her but he always backs out. The thing that breaks him. Is that he gets drunk and loses his virginity to someone who is not that girl - like, he likes this girl, and has a good connection with her, and she likes him, and he knows that its gonna be comepletly consentual, and she's like fucking beautiful right? - and she's the one he wants to loose it to and he's a stupid fucking idiot and loses it to some fucking random ass chick that doesn't even go to their school - This triggers a spiral. After that? He slowly starts giving less of a fuck abt everything. He fucked up the one thing you can’t do over and god he’s so painfully aware of it and so painfully aware that he didn’t even fuck up right. - You’re supposed to wait till marriage. Nope. You’re supposed to do it with someone you love and trust. Double nope. He. Fucked. Up. - its just like he wanted to do something bad. he wanted to fuck something up. he was questioning his faith, his like, great and sturdy and always-there faith for the first time, and what better way to test faith than to do something shitty and see what comes of it. and so he was planning and planning and planning how he was gonna do this terrible thing - which is such a good kid thing to do, to put so much thought into your own rebellion - but he wanted this to go perfectly. - Little Pastors Son, Punz, wasn't gonna wait till marriage. - He was gonna have sex with the girl of his dreams before they were even dating - but man did he like her. Did he want her. - And then he fucked some random girl when he was black out drunk. He's fucked everything up - he can't wash this away with confession - he's tainted. He's dirty. - He looks in the mirror and doesn't recognize the heathen staring back. - He hates who he's become. - But he never goes back - he can't. He's dirty. He's wrong. - but the more he goes down the spiral - the more he realizes that one mistake shouldn't have made him feel like that - that if god was real, which he honestly wasn't sure in that department, he wouldn't want Punz to feel like the scum of the earth for doing something wrong. especially when he felt so bad after he did it. This system was fucked. He didn't want to be apart of another cycle - and he's just lying to himself every time he goes to church, and reads a cerse for his mom, and meets with younger kids at the church, and plays flag football with fucking church virgins who are good catholics and follow all their mommas orders - And every night when he says grace he means it less and less. he always does it when his momma asks, but boy does the lords word mean shit to him anymore From Ethan: - A turning point to the others in Punz's breakaway from Catholicism is like - He prays before he eats, usually. Sometimes they wait for him to finish his prayer before eating themselves, just out of politeness. He's a friend, he gets that shred of etiquette - And then one day he just doesn't. They got some fast food for a whole group dinner out at their hangout spot (a warehouse, did you say??) Tommy is staring at it intently but he waits for Punz to pray. Tubbo's already started eating but the rest wait - And Punz just starts eating - Dream nudges him, "No prayer, Pastor's boy?" - "No prayer," Punz mumbles into his food. "I'm trying something new." SO, TOMMYS DAD LOSING HIS JOB ARC W000000000 - it starts with Tommy showing up in a different jacket one day - like you have to understand, he's worn this jean jacket every single day for as long as WIlbur has known him, which is like 6 years - Like Tommy shows up in this giant, khaki work-jacket and it's his dads... - HIS DAD DIDNT DIE - his dad lost his job, which is essentially death to a family who already couldn't sustain themselves - and Tommy shows up to school, face pale and cheeks sunk in and there are visible bags under his eyes - and Wilbur just rushes over immediately and hugs him so tight to his chest - and Tommy just sobs, "pops lost his job -" gasp "I can't - we can't pay the bills this month. everything - its all falling apart Will." - "Hey - hey. Stop. It's gonna be fine. You're gonna be okay. You always are dude." - Tommy does have to get a job - and he probably does drop out of school unofficially, like he just stops going. - he sleeps during the morning classes, and heads into work at 10am - he's a carpenters assistant. it pays well as they need young, able men. but most of the younger citizens in the town go to school - he has to take the day shift because the day shift pays better - he doesn't mind it, he doesn't - it gives him the opportunity to get all of his energy out; but he misses going to school. as much as he hated it, he misses his friends. - and lets be honest, its hard as fuck for his dad to find a new job, he doesn't have a great resume - he didn't graduate from highschool. and he isn;t in top health condition, he definitely doesn't have health insurance - so Tommys stuck with this job for a long time - his dad uses his last paycheck to buy Tommy workboots so tommy feels in debt to him - He’ll get his GED eventually. - I think - The like religious status of the rest of the group brought to you by me - Everyone who I don’t mention is just a hard atheist - Karl and Wilbur are catholic, but to a lesser extent, Wilbur doesn't really go through with lent, and Karl only sometimes does. They go to a different church and go pretty much on holidays only, a sunday a month maybe. - SapNap goes to Punz's church, they've been friends for years. - He goes to sunday school but misses a lot of sermons because of his siblings sports games. - He is involved, but not to the way Punz is - SapNap's mother is in fact in Punz's moms bible group - Punz sometimes doesnt attend the bible group and Sap's mother is all "now you tell that pastor's boy to actually attend next time, got it?" and Sapnap dies a little on the inside - And George is an orthodox christian, but he's pretty much quit due to the blatant homophobia he's seen at his church. 

AND NOW ON WILBUR SOOT AND KARL JACOBS AND BARKING - Wilbur has siblings, fun fact - that we will never talk about or address - but definitely nothing like Wilbur, more the Karl Jacobs type - Wilbur is the oldest. he's always lectured about being 'a good influence on your brother and sister.' - They’re big sports kids. Softball and Basketball (tall genes). Straight Bs; Bed by 10pm; Have never missed school - Parents pride and joy :) - Just good suburban kids, Have friends next door, help the neighbors, attend the cul-de-sac barbecues. - Basically who Wilbur used to be up until highschool (until Wilbur met weed and a good group of stoners) - Sure he was a disappointment and he had no clue what to do with his life - But he was happier - Never really liked being the goody- two-shoes boy next door, he doesn't know how karl does it “Playing good boy like a dog” - Also he used dog terms around Karl - Because he’s “Playing good boy like a dog” - He’ll throw Karl a beer and smile “go fetch” - He laughs so hard when he sees Karl be good in a class or play it up for his parents; Because Wilbur’s so past trying - Wilbur will walk by and just bark at karl. Bet. Just Growls lowly; Walks in a  circle; Anything to make Karl’s parents (or Wilbur’s own) stare at him and scurry away - Karl’s parents push Karl forward and like hold their younger kids close to their chest, whispering “keep close, don’t look at him” - They tell Karl to stay away from kids like him. - And boy do Wilbur’s pa#rents hate it, They push him along and whisper yell at him As he throws his head back and cackles - I mean imagine, like a stereotypical middle class suburban family: House wife, blue collared father, Two kids; in sports jerseys, Girl in braids, boy in khakis - And then there’s Wilbur: Doc Martins, black jeans, collar and sweater, beanie. Definitely high on something - Chains LOTS OF CHAINS - And he's Barking. Fucking Barking At the nice family down the street - And then he takes out his vape right in front of his parents and silently offers Karl a hit with a smirk - Cause Karl’s too busy playing good boy - And as Karl’s family looks back, as Wilbur is corralled by his mom - He flips them off with the biggest smirk uou will ever see - Wilbur's kind of an ass - And Karl really wants a hit of that vape.

[storiesbymads]

EIGHTEEN ( joe liebgott . )

Y/N met Joe a few days after she graduated from high school. loosely based off the one direction song.

warnings: none but it gets kinda sad @ the end ig

wc: 4.3k

Graduation was days away and Y/N could feel the air escaping her lungs just thinking about it. She had been dreaming about this day for the past twelve years and it was actually happening. Although, now that it was here, the moment felt bittersweet. She was about to leave all the childhood friends she’d made for a junior college across the country in San Francisco. It was almost too surreal for her to handle. A week from now, she’d be somewhat situated in an apartment she’d only seen once without her parents or really anyone that she knew. She would be starting her life.

The last few days of senior year could not have gone by any slower. Final exams had been the week prior so the classes she was attending were really just excuses for all of her classmates and teachers to get emotional about the time they’d spent together. Y/N counted down the minutes until she could finally get out of there. While some of the girls she’d come to know as her best friends were allowing themselves to shed a tear or two and give close to a million hugs to people they’d shared maybe a conversation with in their time there, Y/N kept finding herself in her daydreams about what her new life was going to be like.

“I cannot believe it’s our last day of high school,” her friend Annabelle said. There were about twelve girls all scrunched up at one lunchroom table in an already overcrowded lunchroom. Thankfully, the number had dwindled slightly over the years and now Y/N at least had enough room to put her elbows on the table when she was eating.

“I know! I’m gonna miss you girls so much,” another girl named Cecile said. Y/N swore she saw the slightest hint of a tear in her eye as she said it. Y/N took a bite of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich without another word.

The amount of nerves surrounding her as she stood on the small auditorium stage astounded her. She attended a small school with her graduating class maxing out around 200 and yet the room felt like it was about to explode. All of the classmates around her were decked out in the signature royal blue of their highschool with bright smiles and hazy eyes from the brightly flashing cameras. Y/N fidgeted with the tassel on her cap as she waited for the ceremony to begin. A few of her friends were sitting a few feet away from her. The deafening heartbeat in her ears stopped her from being able to hear what they were talking about. It wasn’t until one of them nudged her ribs that she realized the lights had dimmed slightly and everything was starting.

The announcer’s speech, thankfully, hadn’t lasted longer than a few minutes and the graduates had started making their way across the stage. Before Y/N knew it, she was walking across the stage and shaking hands with the principal and various other administrators she’d come to know over the years. Her legs were numb and she was surprised--and very grateful--that she made it across the stage without so much as tripping. She even silently thanked her mother beforehand for discouraging her from wearing the three-inch pair of heels in her closet.

“The Class of 1936! Congratulations!” her principal announced as a wave of blue filled the air. There were graduation caps everywhere across the auditorium. It was going to be extremely difficult to tell whose was whose at the end of the day but that didn’t stop a single student from completing the tradition. One student’s cap even managed to land in the rafters for a few seconds before coming down.

It was difficult to locate her parents in the crowd in the moments after. Everything seemed to be simultaneously happening in slow motion and hyper speed since her first step across the stage. She spotted the top of her mother’s head across the room and rushed over to meet them. Both of her parents had been leaning up against the wall near the exit speaking to another couple until they noticed her semi-running towards them. Her father pulled her into a tight hug and made a comment about an eyelash messing with his eye the entire ceremony. She gave her mother a soft smile when he finally let her go. Her parents gave a small goodbye to the couple next to them and joined hands with their daughter on the way out of the highschool for seemingly the last time in their lives.

The sound of her alarm clock buzzing at 6:30 in the morning caused a loud groan to fall from Y/N’s lips as she begrudgingly pulled herself from the warmth of her duvet and into her adjoining bathroom to start her day. It was moving day. Well, technically. Most of her furniture had been shipped out to her apartment a few days prior but today was the official moving date. She had to be at the train station by 8:00 with the last of her belongings. Judging by the fact that Y/N was brushing her teeth with her eyes still very much closed, it was evident that she was very much regretting choosing the earliest departure time to San Francisco available.

Her two suitcases were packed and stacked next to the front door of her parents’ home and she kept glancing at them during the entire duration of breakfast. In her mind, she was going over every item that she needed to bring and checking the mental checklist she’d gone over about twenty times over the past two days. She knew it was overly redundant but she couldn’t bear the thought of forgetting something and not being able to retrieve it until the next major holiday. It was unlikely, though, that she would forget something as her childhood bedroom was practically barren save for the twin bed and the wire coat hangers in her closet.

“Honey, if you look at those suitcases one more time,” her mother lightly scolded. She was glad her daughter was so excited for something but she was still slightly bitter to the thought of her daughter leaving home so soon after graduation.

“I’m sorry! I can’t help it,” she sighed. The plate of eggs and bacon had barely been eaten--mostly just moved around with a fork--and was growing colder by the minute. Y/N knew she wouldn’t be able to eat with the amount of nerves building up in her stomach. She spared a final glance at the luggage

“Your mother’s right,” her father sighed and blew the steam off of his cup of coffee. Y/N was surprised to see the newspaper usually tightly clutched within her father’s fingers nowhere in sight.

“So, what’re your plans for the day?” Y/N asked after a few moments of silence. She had completely given up on her plate of food and had pushed it further towards the center of the table.

“Oh, you know. Mope around the house wishing our baby were still here with us,” her mother said dramatically, pretending to wipe a tear from her face.

“Very funny.”

“She’s not joking,” her father chuckled into his mug. It was odd to see him this way. Both of his hands were tightly wrapped around the white porcelain and he still had his reading glasses on rather than the contacts she was so accustomed to seeing. Come to think of it, her mother looked quite strange, too. She was still in her evening robe and had made no effort to remove the curlers from her hair.

“Are you not accompanying me to the train station?” Y/N asked. She watched her parents share knowing glances before they each turned towards her.

“Your father thinks it’s best if we say our goodbyes here. He knows I’ll cry like a banshee if we do it in public and he wants to spare you the embarrassment,” her mother said.

“Oh,” Y/N mumbled and glanced down at her fingers fiddling with the hem of the tablecloth. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Oh Honey-”

“We can come with you if you want!”

“No, no. Dad’s right. Plus, if you start crying I’m sure to start crying and then where would we be,” Y/N allowed an airy laugh to brush past her lips at the thought of her and her parents all crying and smushed together in a dysfunctional group hug.

Due to the fact that Y/N had taken probably the longest nap in her life on the train, her legs felt as stiff as the concrete beneath her feet as she tried (and failed) to make her way out of the station in a normal looking way. Every step looked more like a waddle combined with the luggage that felt ten times heavier getting off than getting on settled on either one of her shoulders.

“Need some help with that, doll?” One of the various taxi-cab drivers asked. It took her a second to locate which one was addressing her but it was easy enough to identify him when she noticed him quickly approaching her with a hand out.

“Uh,” she mumbled. “Yeah-Yes. That’d be great, thank you.”

“Just doing my job,” he sent her a wink as he helped her load the luggage into the trunk of the bright yellow vehicle. Y/N allowed herself to take in the appearance of the man as she got into the backseat and told him her destination. He was quite skinny but that didn’t take away from the overall build of him. In fact, it seemed to make her more attracted to him. His lips seemed to be plastered in a permanent smirk and his hair was way too perfect for him to just have thrown some gel in it and called it a day. It was good enough to land him a hair modeling gig, in her opinion.

“How long will you be staying?” the driver asked and made eye contact with her through the rear-view. His eyes had a mischievous glint to them.

“I don’t look like a regular to you?” she asked with mock offense.

“With that accent? Not a chance, dollface,” he said. They retained eye contact for a few more seconds before his sight flickered back to the road in front of him. Y/N was thankful for the added background noise of the radio at that point.

“You’re actually taking me to my new place,” Y/N said after a few moments of awkwards silence. She found herself fiddling with a slightly ripped piece of leather on the seat beneath her. She felt his eyes on her but by the time she looked back up at the mirror his eyes were focused on the road once more.

“How do you know I’m not a creepy stalker? Now I know where you live,” he joked as he reached a red light. She was able to get a good look at his eyes in the mirror now. The sunlight coming in from the windshield allowed her to notice the swirl of chocolate in his irises. Multiple car honks behind them startled the driver into pressing on the gas a little too quickly, startling Y/N and almost causing her to faceplant into the back of the seat.

“Sorry about that, doll,” he muttered and adjusted how he was sitting ever so slightly and allowed one of his hands to rest on the center console rather than the wheel.

“So, are you?” she asked.

“What?” his eyebrows scrunched together and his grip on the wheel tightened.

“Are you a stalker?” Y/N allowed herself to relax into the seats more. She didn’t really care if he was a stalker. She just never wanted him to stop talking.

“You’ll be glad to know that I am not, Miss…” he voice trailed off, obviously asking for her name.

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Joe Liebgott. Nice to make your acquaintance, dollface,” he sent her another wink through the mirror. Y/N felt her heart sink slightly when she noticed her apartment building only a few feet away.

By the time Joe had found a parking spot in front of the building, Y/N could feel her heart all the way in the souls of her feet. She had no idea why she was reacting this way. She had only known this man for, what, twenty minutes? And their one striking conversation had been about whether or not he was a stalker. She had no right to get this attached to him.

“You know,” he started. “I could give you a tour of the city if you’d like. You know, since you’re new and all.” He flashed her a million-dollar smile as he handed her the two pieces of luggage from the trunk.

“I think I would really enjoy that, Joe.” Her heart was beating so fast it could have jumped right out of her chest and made it back to her parents’ house before she was able to get inside her new apartment.

“Great,” he said. He opened up the passenger side of the cab so that he could reach into the glove box. He pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket and began scribbling on the blank side of the receipt he had just pulled out of the compartment before handing the small piece of paper to her. In very messy handwriting, she noticed he had written Joe (not a stalker, he promises) followed by a phone number and a smiley face below all of it.

“I’ll make sure to call you, Not-a-stalker-Joe.” Y/N’s face had heated up an extreme amount and she hoped that Joe wouldn’t think anything of it.

A few days passed before Y/N worked up the courage to actually call Joe. Maybe it was the fact that it was eleven o’clock at night. She always had been braver when she was tired. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t been able to get the cab driver out of her mind since he dropped her off at her place. Especially at night when she was alone with her thoughts. He got her head spinning and her heart racing without even being in the same room as her. She could only imagine what it would be like when she took him up on that tour offer.

“Hi, is this Joe?” she asked as politely as she could. She regretted calling the second he picked up.

“Depends…” his voice was raspier than it had been a few days ago. There was a possibility that Y/N had woken him up. “Who is this?”

“Y/N,” she said. Her nerves were skyrocketing at this point. The past week or so had not been easy on her heart.

“Who’s the stalker now?” he chuckled lightly into the phone. She heard rustling from the other side and assumed he was moving around on his bed. Having the phone by the bed seemed like a smart idea to her and she wondered why she hadn’t thought of moving hers there.

“You gave me your number, you know,” she said, twirling the cord around her finger.

“For a tour of the city. Not a late night rendezvous,” he said.

“I’m sorry. I can call again in the morning.” Her face was burning with embarrassment; the pressure managed to trail all the way down her spine, it seemed.

“No, doll, don’t worry about it. It had been a pretty boring night anyway,” Joe sighed. Y/N could imagine him running his hand through his hair. Then the image of running her hands through his hair popped into her mind.

“So, about that tour?” she asked. She really hoped she wasn’t being too forward. He was the one that offered.

“You up for it? Tomorrow’s my off day so you called just in time,” he said.

Y/N was barely able to sleep an hour that night. She didn’t know if it was the nerves (it was) or if it was the seemingly endless downpour of rain outside. After her fifth wake up, she decided trying to sleep was a lost cause. She slipped out of bed and out of her bedroom into the open concept of the rest of her apartment. The clock on the wall beside her stove let her know that it was edging on 4:15. Somehow, she managed to turn on her coffee pot and actually make herself some in her zombie-like state. She felt the liquid warm her right down to the tips of her toes.

Around 7am Y/N was beginning to regret skipping out on anymore sleep. Her eyes were droopy and she could barely keep them open long enough to read more than a paragraph on the morning paper. She figured this would be as good a time as any to start getting ready. She probably should’ve worked out a better plan with Joe before hanging up last night; she had zero percent of a clue as to when he would be picking her up that morning.

Y/N’s shower lasted longer than usual due to her starting the whole ordeal by just standing under the hot water with her eyes closed for about ten minutes. She’d even let her mind wander to thinking about Joe being in said shower with her but quickly shook the thought away as she began applying her coconut scented body wash. By the time she was finished, the originally scalding water was beginning to grow cold and Y/N was practically shivering trying to push the hot-water knob past its limit.

She decided to fix herself a third cup of coffee after getting dressed to aid her in doing her makeup in a way that wouldn’t make her look like a raccoon. A few years ago she had tried to do a Smokey eye after about three hours of sleep and she was not going for a recreation of that this morning.

9am was beginning to roll around when she heard a knock on her door.

“Morning, doll,” Joe said when she opened the door. He had his hair slicked back and a collared shirt left unbuttoned about three buttons.

“How’d you know which apartment was mine?” She chuckled lightly. She could have sworn he hadn’t followed her up to her door the previous day but she could’ve been wrong.

“I watched from my car to make sure you got in okay. I was really hoping I remembered which door it was and didn’t go knocking on some old lady’s door,” he said and ran one of his hands through the gelled hair. Y/n glanced over the balcony of the complex to see the bright yellow taxi parked in the exact spot it was in yesterday.

“That was very sweet of you, Joe,” both of them had a slight red tint to their faces as they made their way down the stairs and to the taxi. He opened the door for her before jogging around the front of the car to get in himself.

“The best tour of your life begins now,” he said before starting the car up.

“So how old did you say you were?” Joe asked after about twenty minutes of awkward silence.

“18. You?” Y/N said. She really hoped he wasn’t 37 or something or this whole ordeal would have gotten really awkward really fast.

“21,” he said and turned down the radio knob ever so slightly. She couldn’t stop herself from thinking about how nice his fingers looked. “Now our first stop…”

It had been months since Y/N had first met Joe but she swore it felt like the pair had known each other forever. She felt more comfortable around him than anyone else she had ever met. They went on one or two more dates after their tour before Joe asked her to be his girlfriend. Everything between them was moving incredibly fast for Y/N’s usual tastes but she couldn’t be happier at the given moment. Joe made her feel alive. Her fingertips burned with every touch and her insides were practically doing backflips any time he complimented her or so much as held eye contact with her.

“Good morning doll face,” Joe said with his raspy morning voice that Y/N adored more than anything. She groaned with displeasure at being roused from her sleep but she gave him a soft smile when she finally opened her eyes. Joe was running his fingertips lightly across Y/N’s bare back as the thin sheets of his bed covered their lower halves. Her hand moved from being placed at the top of his abdomen to gently stroking his jaw. There was the faintest of stubble growing in and she would never tell him how much she really loved it.

“Morning, handsome,” she mumbled into his chest. She began trailing kisses from his chest up to his collarbone and back down again. Joe used his free hand to stop her antics and pull her face up to kiss his lips this time. In a few short moments, Joe was able to flip the pair of them to where he was resting over Y/N with one of his hands beside Y/N’s shoulder to support his weight and the other securely positioned on her jaw.

“That was a very good way to wake up,” she said and ran her thumb across his slightly swollen lips. He let out a soft laugh before poking her in the side and laying down on the bed beside her.

“I think I’m going to go get a shower. Care to join me?” He asked with a smirk. They had showered together before but it had never ended with them cleaner than when they entered.

“Not today, baby,” she said, which earned a very over exaggerated groan from Joe as he forced himself out of bed and into the connected bathroom.

She, too, pulled herself out of the bed and grabbed Joe’s button up off of the floor and buttoned it up just enough to cover all the necessities. She heard the creak of the hot water knob as she exited the bedroom to make herself some much needed coffee. Neither had gotten the recommended 8 hours of sleep and she was wondering how Joe was able to be so animated about everything already.

Their one-year anniversary came around faster than anything that Y/N had ever experienced. One day she was living in her parents home desperate to graduate from high school and now she was living in her boyfriend’s apartment (unbeknownst to her parents) and celebrating a whole year of dating. And it had been the most magical year of Y/N’s life.

“More wine?” Joe asked her as he pulled himself off of the couch. Y/N whined slightly as her side was hit with a gust of cold wind.

“Yes, please,” she said and handed up her empty wine glass.

“You got it, doll,” he sent her a wink and went into the kitchen to fill both their glasses. Y/N couldn’t help but watch him the whole time. She never thought that she’d be this head over heels for a man— especially this far along in a relationship. Before Joe, the longest she’d had a boyfriend had been about two months and they barely even talked during that time.

Joe glanced over at her from the kitchen just barely making eye contact with her before Y/N shifted her gaze to the record player in the corner of the room near the small television. It had been playing static for about an hour now but the both of them were too comfortable to care enough about flipping it.

“I love you, Joe,” Y/N said after a few more moments of silence. There was a loud crash in the kitchen that caused her to surge up from her seat and rush over. Before she was able to bend down to clean up any of the broken glass, though, Joe pulled her in by the hips to smash his lips against hers.

“Say it again,” he said when he pulled away with the biggest grin Y/N had ever seen.

“I love you, Joe.”

“I love you, Y/N/N. So much,” he pulled her in for another kiss, sidestepping around the broken wine glass to set her on the kitchen counter and placing himself between her thighs. His hands trailed from her hips to rest on the sides of her knees.

Almost four years had passed since then. Joe was set to leave for boot camp this afternoon and Y/N was barely functioning at this point. He had become such an integral part of her life since she arrived in San Francisco. She had no idea what she would do if he didn’t come back to her. Hell, she barely had a clue what she would do if he did come back to her. She knew nothing would be the same after all of this.

“I’ll write to you whenever I get the chance, baby doll. I promise,” he mumbled into her hair. Y/N had not left his side once in the past week and she didn’t plan on leaving it until he was on that train.

“I’m going to miss you so much, Joey,” she said.

“I know. I’m gonna miss you too.”

“I’ve loved you since I was 18 years old, Joe. I’m 22 now and somehow I love you more and more each day. Promise me you’ll come home to me,” she said. There were tears beginning to leak out of the corners of her eyes. He wiped one away with the pad of his thumb.

“I promise to try as hard as I can to come home to you, baby doll,” he said and pressed another kiss to her hair.

[inkyhorror]

I’m starting a series on here and on AO3 exploring the trust relationships between MC and the demon brothers. Please let me know what you think! P.S: I use Ainsell (meaning My Own Self) as MCs name because personally reading “MC” as a character name is a bit jarring. 

Trust Exercise

Introduction Chapter

Warnings: None

The soft buzz of the D.D.D. in your pocket startles you. It is the end of the school day and the halls at RAD are extremely crowded. You manage to push your way through the throng and press yourself into a small nook next to one of the many busts that line the halls. Now that you have some space you fish your D.D.D. out of your coat and check your messages.

Solomon: Hey, are you still at RAD?

Seeing the sender's name brings a smile to your face.

Ainsell: Yeah, I’m just heading out now. Why?

Solomon: I just heard from Simeon that Diavolo is calling Lucifer and the others into a student council meeting after class today. Wait for me by the entrance, I’ll walk you home.

You respond with a sticker of the little red demon saluting and slip the D.D.D. back into your pocket. With a big smile on your face you merge back into the crowd and make your way towards the front gates.

Minutes later you find yourself sitting on one of the little stone benches in the main courtyard. The area had cleared up pretty quickly, most students were eager to get home after classes, but there were still some scattered groups chatting away and laughing.

You scroll mindlessly through Devilgram as you wait for Solomon, taking the opportunity to check in on the demon brothers online antics. You pause on one of Asmodeus’ more recent posts. It is a photo of the two of you, arms thrown around each other's waists and cheeks pressed together as you look into the camera with a smile. The room was dark but the soft pink ambient light revealed the shapes of several other demons in the background. It had been taken at one of the succubus parties Asmodeus talked so much about. To say you were hesitant to attend was an understatement, but he assured you that as long as he was around you would be safe. The whole affair had been more tame than you anticipated, mostly drinking and dancing. Almost everyone in attendance made a pass at you at some point but all it took was a gentle ‘no thank you’ and they fell back into gossiping. All in all you had a lot of fun and ended up making a few new friends by the end of the night.

“Well, it looks like someone had a fun weekend.” The voice next to your ear made you yelp in surprise. You turn quickly to see Solomon peeking at your D.D.D. over your shoulder. “Sorry, did I scare you?” He chuckles and the sound of it melts your heart.

“Don’t sneak up on people like that, it’s very ungentlemanly.” You swat his shoulder playfully. He circles the bench and offers you a hand.

“My sincerest apologies.” He smiles his usual cryptic smile. You take his hand and stand up with an exaggerated huff.

“I suppose I’ll forgive you,” you say in an overly exasperated voice, “but only if I get to hold your arm on the walk home.” The request does not even phase him. He offers up his arm and you happily accept, latching onto him with a huge grin on your face. He laughs at your enthusiasm and the two of you start the long walk to the House of Lamentation.

On the way you share stories about your respective weekends. Solomon laments about how he had tried to help Luke with a cake recipe that Barbados had shared with them. While Luke was busy measuring out the ingredients Solomon had decided to spice up the recipe with some of his own ideas for ingredients. It went about as well as could be expected and both Luke and Simeon had practically begged him to let Luke work on it by himself. You share a laugh and dive into your own story about the party Asmodeus had invited you to, the one he had seen the picture of back at RAD. Solomon is genuinely surprised that you agreed to attend. As you recount the night's events he watches you intently, his face neutral. You start to feel uncomfortable under his gaze and your anecdote quickly fizzles into silence. You stare at the floor and continue your journey in silence, your face red with embarrassment though you are not sure why you are embarrassed. It is only when you are both nearly at the House gates that Solomon finally speaks again.

“Hey Little Lamb?”

“Yes Starlight?” The nickname you gave him brings a smile back to his face.

“You really trust them don’t you? Even though they’re demons?” His gaze is intense. You take a minute to really consider the question. You haven’t been in the Devildom for very long, but even in that short time you had formed a strong bond with the demon brothers. You even had the pact marks to prove it. You nod your head slowly.

“And do you trust me?” The question is simple but the implications are immense. Solomon is the only other human in the Devildom and as a result you two had bonded quickly. Despite his cryptic nature and despite Lucifer's warnings you had made the conscious decision to trust him early in your relationship. He has never once betrayed that trust and as you got to know him better your trust in him grew even stronger. It also became very clear that his intentions are not always the best. Though he would never intentionally hurt you he did find it amusing to occasionally cause trouble just to see how things played out. You get the sinking feeling that this is one such time. You nod your head again and brace yourself for his response.

“In that case I have something for you.” The two of you reach the gates of the House of Lamentation. You release his arm and he rummages in his pocket for a moment before producing a small ring. It is a plain silver band on the outside but you can see an inscription on the inside written in a language you can't quite recognize.

“Starlight you know I love you but I really do think we should go on a date before you propose.” He shakes his head with a chuckle.

“Not quite dear. May I?” He extends his free hand towards. You hesitate a moment before placing your hand gingerly in his. He slips the ring onto your finger and brings it up to his lips. For a moment you think he is about to kiss you but he stops just shy of touching you and whispers something you cannot quite understand. Suddenly the ring emits a soft purple glow and shrinks tight around your finger. You yelp in surprise and pull your hand back. It takes you a moment to realize that it does not actually hurt. You look to Solomon for answers.

“It’s a magic ring, in case that wasn’t already clear. The incantation along with the inscription on the inside makes it so that the wearer has to obey any command given to them. Don’t worry, it’s not permanent. The spell should wear off in a day or so. At that point the ring will revert back to normal and you will be able to remove it yourself” You stare at the ring dumbly for a moment before looking at him.

“Why?” It is the only thing you can think to ask.

“Consider it a trust exercise.” He continues to smile at you sweetly.

“You’re a devil.”

“So I’ve been told.” He plants a chaste kiss on your forehead. “See you in class tomorrow.” He turns and leaves you standing at the House gates absolutely dumbfounded. As the realization of your current predicament slowly dawns on you you come to a grim conclusion.

“I’m so screwed…”

[angelofthequeers]

Hold Me By Both Hands: Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

Chapter 4 | Chapter 6 | AO3 link

“Nino, Sabrina, and Kim,” Ms Bustier calls.

“What?” Chloé snaps. “Ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous! Everyone knows that Sabrina and I always work together!”

“Well, I thought that it could be fun to assign you group members for this exercise that you might not ordinarily work with,” Ms Bustier says. “Our next group will be Adrien –”

Marinette crosses her fingers.

“– Lila, and Marinette.”

Yes! Finally, Marinette’s put in a group with Adrien! Even the fact that their third member is Lila, who’s shown a definite interest in Adrien, isn’t enough to taint her sheer elation.

“And that leaves Juleka, Max, and Chloé,” Ms Bustier says. “Now, I’ll assign you all your English exercises, and the first group to successfully complete all of them will get a little sweet treat!”

Everyone immediately starts shuffling around to form their groups. Since they’re only sitting a desk apart, Marinette and Adrien wait for Lila to come down to them from the back.

“I’m so happy that I’m working with you two!” Lila says, sliding into Nino’s vacated seat. Drat, why didn’t Marinette think to take that seat first? “And it’s so great to finally talk to you for real, Adrien! I haven’t gotten the chance to introduce myself since last week. I’m Lila!”

“Nice to officially meet you!” Adrien shakes Lila’s hand, then turns to Marinette. “The bench is wide enough for all three of us, Marinette. Why don’t you come sit down here? It’ll be easier to work together that way.”

“What a great idea!” Lila rests her hand on Adrien’s arm. “You’re so considerate, Adrien!”

Adrien’s inviting Marinette to sit with him? And Lila, sure, but with him? Marinette practically floats down to his table, where he shuffles over so that she can slip onto the end of the bench and he’s sandwiched between her and Lila. Oh. Gosh. She’s touching his arm. His warm skin! This is a dream come true!

“Exercise first what?” she babbles. “I mean – what’s our first exercise?”

Adrien pulls his worksheet towards him. “We have to translate these sentences into English.”

“Oh, this’ll be easy!” Lila says. “I studied English at Harvard when we were in America! Of course, they don’t accept children, but one of the professors just took such a liking to me that he simply had to teach me!”

Marinette’s eye twitches. Again with the lies! What’s this girl’s problem? At least Adrien looks just as disbelieving, if only politer about it.

“How about you do this first set of exercises, then?” Adrien says. “Marinette and I can work on translating these English sentences into French in the meantime.”

“Oh!” Lila’s eyes widen. “I’m so sorry, I really would, but I sprained my wrist the other day! You know, when Alya took me to watch the fight against Green Giant! I can’t write in case I make it worse…I’m ever so grateful that I was partnered with you, Adrien!”

“But your wrist was fine just before! And Miraculous Ladybug fixes everything!” Marinette says. No way is Lila getting her claws into Adrien! That niceness last week really had been an act!

“I…didn’t want to ask for help,” Lila sighs, drooping. “I was afraid to inconvenience anyone. But since we have to do these worksheets together, I thought…no, it’s okay. I understand if I’m being too troublesome.”

“That’s not what I said at all!” Marinette resists the urge to slam her forehead into the table.

“Um –” Adrien tries to say.

“In fact, it might be better if I just work by myself,” Lila continues. “You and Adrien seem like such good friends…I’d hate to come between you –”

“I didn’t say that!” Marinette says. “You don’t have to work by yourself!”

“I’m sure Marinette’s just concerned for you and wants to make sure she’s got the information right,” Adrien says with a pacifying smile.

“Oh!” Lila beams. “That’s so considerate of you, Marinette! Would you mind filling out my worksheet for me? Only if you’re okay with it, of course!”

What can Marinette do? If she says yes, Lila wins. But if she says no, she looks like a raging bitch in front of Adrien! Eventually deciding that it’s better in the long run to give Lila this little victory, Marinette pastes on her sweetest smile and pulls Lila’s worksheet towards her.

“I think this sentence says, “I would like to buy a pair of blue pants”,” Adrien says, frowning down at his sheet. “But my professional lessons are in Mandarin, not English, so I’m pretty useless here.”

“You’re not useless!” Marinette says immediately. “You’re pretty – uh, good at anything you put your mind to!”

“Marinette’s right,” Lila says, shifting so that she’s snuggling into Adrien’s side. He automatically leans away and straight into Marinette, whose heart spontaneously combusts in her chest. “Someone as smart as you couldn’t possibly be useless!”

“Um…thanks,” Adrien says. “Marinette, what do you think the next sentence is?”

“Your eyes are forest green,” Marinette sighs. Her insides chill when she realises what she’d just said. “I – ah, I mean – your dress is green!”

“Hey, that’s right!” Adrien writes out the sentence in his gorgeous handwriting. “Good job, Marinette!”

“Yank thou – um, thank you!”

“Marinette is right, though,” Lila says, resting her chin on her ‘un-sprained’ hand. “Your eyes really are such a gorgeous shade of green.”

“Thanks.” Adrien once again shifts away from Lila. “I think this third sentence is –”

“And your hair is so golden!” Lila continues. “Oro come il sole!”

The nerve of this bitch! Can’t she see that Adrien’s clearly uncomfortable with her touching him? And Marinette was here first, so how dare Lila just barge in and –

Marinette freezes. What is she thinking? Why on earth is she treating Adrien like some possession that she’s entitled to? Is she really that…fixated on him? The realisation is like icy water straight to her insides. She’s fighting over a boy! And sure, Lila’s totally a liar, but it’s not like that’s the only reason why Marinette dislikes her…

“Marinette?” Adrien says. Marinette blinks and looks up from her worksheet, where she’s been absently doodling her signature flowers on the side of the paper. “Are you alright?”

“I hope I didn’t upset you in some way!” Lila seems to feel the need to add.

“You honestly didn’t,” Marinette says with a weak smile. “I just…got lost in thought, I guess. English has never been my best subject.”

“Well, it’s lucky that you’ve got me working with you, isn’t it?” Lila says brightly.

“What’s this next sentence, then?” Adrien says with a friendly enough smile. “Marinette and I have each translated one, so it’s your turn.”

“Oh…gosh, I wish I could help, but I think my dyslexia is flaring up!” Lila says. “I’m so sorry, you must think I’m such an awful burden –”

“Not at all!” Marinette says, resisting the urge to slam her head against a brick wall. Or at least the desk. “You’ve been in class for a week and you haven’t told anyone? How have you been coping? Surely you must need help? As the class representative, it’s my duty to take care of these kinds of things!”

“Oh – I wouldn’t want to impose…” Lila says. “But if there was someone who could help me…” She bats her eyelids at Adrien. “Someone really smart…”

“Of course!” Adrien says. Lila’s face lights up, while Marinette tries – and fails – to squash the mild nausea in her gut because no, she’s not a bad person and she won’t sink to the level of some possessive, entitled weirdo! “Max is super smart, so I’m sure he’d help you if you asked!”

Lila’s face falls quicker than a superhero on the Eiffel Tower. “Oh – yes, I suppose, but I don’t know him very well and I wouldn’t want to –”

“Oh, Max is so approachable!” Adrien says. “He wouldn’t mind at all! I’d offer to help you but between my fencing and my Mandarin lessons and everything else, I don’t think I’d have the time. You deserve better than an unreliable tutor.”

Ha. Okay, so Marinette’s trying her best to not be jealous, but it really is satisfying to see the way Lila’s face twists as she tries to suppress her displeasure.

“I appreciate your concern, Adrien,” Lila says with a smile that, to her credit, is pretty well-faked. “I just might ask Max at lunch.”

“Great!” Adrien says, then smooths out his worksheet. “Quick, let’s get these done! I haven’t had sweets in –”

“Finished!” Max slams his worksheet down. How the heck his group finished first, especially with Chloé refusing to lift a finger, is beyond Marinette. All she knows is that the look of disappointment on Adrien’s face simply cannot be allowed to exist. Purely by instinct, she rummages in her purse for one of the cookies that she keeps for Tikki.

“Here!” she says, presenting it to Adrien as Ms Bustier awards Max, Juleka, and Chloé their little wrapped chocolates. “We may not have won, but you still get a sweet treat!”

Adrien’s smile is as bright as the sun when he accepts the cookie. “Thank you, Marinette! Freshly baked?”

“This morning!” Marinette says. Adrien immediately bites into the cookie and moans, and Marinette’s forced to look away to prevent him from seeing her undoubtedly scarlet face.

Man, she’s got some serious thinking to do when she gets home.

.

“You’ve been doing that for half an hour now,” Tikki says as Marinette just lies face-down on her bed, face making a permanent imprint in her pillow. “What’s got you so upset?”

Marinette doesn’t answer at first. It’s odd; she’d thought she’d be a hysterical mess, shrieking and pacing and tearing her hair out as she tries to sort out everything currently battering her brain. Instead, she’s deathly silent, just trying to suffocate herself in her pillow to escape her own mind.

“Nothing…” Marinette rolls onto her side so that she can speak actual words instead of pillow-muffled mumbles. “I’m just completely re-evaluating my life.”

“Is this about class today?” Tikki says. “Lila did seem very –”

“No, it’s not about Lila,” Marinette says. “It’s about me. Seeing how I was acting around Adrien because of Lila…it just made me realise how fixated I can be. I just…” She blinks rapidly to dispel the stinging in her eyes, though she’s unsuccessful. “I feel like so much of what I do is because of Adrien. I entered that game tournament because he did, even if I won fair and square and I genuinely enjoyed it – I always ‘happen’ to be around when he’s doing his photoshoots – Tikki, what normal girl does all this? I even stole his phone because of an embarrassing voicemail!”

“And you only deleted the voicemail,” Tikki says. “You didn’t snoop. It wasn’t right to take his phone in the first place, but a true stalker would have gone through everything to get all the information they could about him! You were scared of being embarrassed, not trying to creep on him.”

“I still took his phone,” Marinette says. “Do I even really like him? Or am I just so wrapped up in this crush I’ve got on him that I don’t even know?”

“Well, what do you know about him?” Tikki says, and oh boy, getting Marinette to talk about Adrien is most definitely a sure-fire way to get her to not shut up.

“I know how much it meant to him to think that the scarf I knitted was from his father,” she says. “I know when it’s Adrien the model smiling and when it’s Adrien Agreste smiling. I know that he likes video games and he feels so lonely because he misses his mother and his father treats him like – like – gah, I can’t even think of the word! I know how much he hates all the public attention he gets and how everyone throws themselves all over him. I’ve seen how uncomfortable he gets when girls cling to him!”

“Does that sound like a stalker?” Tikki says when Marinette pauses for breath. “Or does that sound like someone who cares deeply for their friend, who they happen to have a crush on?”

“But you don’t get it! I was so possessive over him today! Lila was touching him and sure, I was annoyed that he was uncomfortable, because I’m so sick of people grabbing him and treating him like he’s a toy or something, but I was also jealous! I literally thought that she had no right because I was here first! I called her a bitch in my head!”

“Mhm,” Tikki says. “And clearly you’re not a bad person, or you wouldn’t be agonising over this right now.”

Marinette just blinks at her.

“I’m thousands of years old,” Tikki says. “I’ve seen a lot of creepy and bad people, and you’re neither of them! You’re just a normal teenage girl who happens to get enthusiastic about her crush and hates it when people put their hands all over him. If you were really a stalker, you’d have taken credit for that scarf to gain his attention. You wouldn’t have let Manon be in that photoshoot with him. You would have gone through his phone when you had it. You wouldn’t have tried to step down and let Max play in the tournament. You’d constantly be touching him and invading his personal space like Chloé and Lila do. You wouldn’t have gotten the whole class involved in a protest so that he could come back to school! You’ve made mistakes, yes, but you’ve realised that you were wrong, and you tried to better yourself! That’s what makes you a good person, Marinette.”

Marinette can’t help but smile at her tiny friend. “Thanks, Tikki. How do you do that?”

“I’m an ancient, wise being,” Tikki says playfully.

“You got the ancient part right,” Marinette teases. Tikki pokes her tiny tongue out.

“So, what do you plan on doing about your crush?” Tikki says.

“Well, I can’t just forget about my feelings,” Marinette says. “I wish it was that easy.”

“Who says you have to forget about them?” Tikki says. “Chat Noir has feelings for Ladybug –”

“So he claims.”

“– and he never stumbles over his words with you.”

“He’s Chat Noir,” Marinette says. “He’s not awkward, clumsy, hot-mess Marinette.”

“Stop that right now!” Tikki’s azure eyes blaze as she rests her tiny hands on her tiny hips. “Stop putting yourself down, Marinette! Ladybug is smart, confident, talented, brave, and always driven to do the right thing. And you are Ladybug, therefore you’re all of those things too!”

“Only behind the mask.”

“You were chosen to be Ladybug because you’re all of those things,” Tikki says. “Your mask makes it easier for you to openly display those qualities, but you have them even as Marinette. You certainly weren’t behind Ladybug’s mask when you proved yourself to Master Fu.”

“All I did was help him across the road.” Why is Marinette fighting against Tikki’s words so much? Maybe it’s because every time she tries to be confident about herself, she’s smacked back down, whether by Chloé or something else. “Are you saying that he would’ve given you to any old person who helped someone across the road?”

“You didn’t just help him across the road,” Tikki says. “You put your life in danger when no one else would. You saw how everyone froze and stood there! And you sacrificed the macarons your father made when it would have been easy to worry about your own problems and how you were negatively impacted. Master Fu told me all about it when he was informing me of who my holder would be. He saw that you had the potential to be Ladybug, and you proved it when you saved Alya and defeated Stoneheart! Yes, he might have given the earrings to anyone who helped him, but you’re that someone who helped him when it would’ve been easier to look the other way. You’re that one who jumped into action rather than panic, which is essential in a superhero. And you’re the one who’s made Ladybug into who she is. Every Ladybug I’ve ever had is different because it’s the holder who makes the hero, not the other way around.”

Something warm blossoms in Marinette’s chest, and she smiles and draws Tikki in for a hug. “Thank you, Tikki. You do always know what to say.”

“I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t the truth,” Tikki says. “You’re smart, confident, talented, brave, and you always do the right thing because that’s who Marinette Dupain-Cheng is!”

“You’re right!” Marinette says. “I’m Marinette! I can do anything if I put my mind to it!”

“Including talking to Adrien normally!” Tikki says. Marinette promptly wilts.

“Y-Yeah…”

“Remember everything you just told me about Adrien. You don’t act anything like his other fans, and you don’t hang off him like Chloé and Lila do,” Tikki says. “You know things about the true Adrien that only his family and friends really know. I personally don’t think you put him on a pedestal. You’re a teen girl with a crush and when your crush is famous, there’s bound to be at least some influence from his public image. Especially when you’re around other teen girls who are fans.”

Marinette’s eyes sting with tears she tries to hold back, because Tikki is the one of the best things that’s ever happened to her and she doesn’t know what she’d do without her wise little friend. “Thanks, Tikki. But…how do I do this? I can’t just flip a switch! What if I never stop acting like a goof and he never notices me and he falls in love with someone else and –”

“Marinette!” Tikki says loudly, stopping Marinette in her tracks. “Adrien’s your friend. And you don’t have much of a chance with him if you can’t even talk to him, do you? Even if you did become his girlfriend, how could you date someone you can barely talk to?”

“You’re right,” Marinette mumbles. “I should just accept the fact that I’ve got no chance with him.”

“Is it really that important to be his girlfriend?” Tikki says. “Is romance really that much more important than friendship? You and Chat Noir trust each other with your lives and you’re not a couple. And of all the Ladybugs I’ve served, many of them never even kissed their Black Cat, but they still had a friendship as close as the relationship between the ones who did marry each other. Friendship is just as beautiful as romance.”

“I never even thought of it that way,” Marinette says, blinking at her kwami friend. Tikki’s totally right! Alya is easily one of the closest people in her life and there’s nothing romantic between them. Marinette would do anything for Alya. Would that relationship really lose its importance if she ever got together with someone? Would that someone really become more important than Alya purely because of the romance?

“Of course you didn’t, silly,” Tikki says with a small grin. “Humans are so obsessed with romance that I’m not surprised you’d see it as the most important thing ever.”

“Maybe being friends with Adrien isn’t such a bad thing,” Marinette says firmly, although whether she’s trying to convince herself or Tikki, she’s got no idea. “I’ve got more of a chance of having a close relationship with him if I’m his friend rather than stammering and sneaking around to watch him and “conveniently” run into him. And if we do ever get together, at least I can say that it’s built on friendship.”

“Exactly,” Tikki agrees. “You don’t have to stress over trying to get rid of your crush. Just focus on interacting normally with him instead of trying to ask him out, because you always seem to be able to string together more than two words when you’ve forgotten about asking him out. So, how are you going to do this? You enjoyed playing video games with Adrien, didn’t you? Maybe invite him over again!”

“Maybe,” Marinette says, although she’s not sure she’s ready for Adrien to see her true competitive side yet. She hadn’t gone too hard on him last time, since they’d had to work together as a team for the tournament, but there’s a reason her papa teasingly calls her a little princess when she plays multiplayer games and it’s not because of beauty or daintiness.

Her eyes land on the pictures of Adrien plastered across her wall near her computer, and she sighs and heaves herself out of bed. Tikki beams and whizzes over to her as she’s removing the pictures of model Adrien from her wall carefully so that they’re not damaged. Although she probably won’t be putting them back up, it doesn’t hurt to keep them in case she needs them as a reference when she’s designing. And really, Adrien makes the best designing reference.

Okay. Enough, Marinette!

“I’m proud of you, Marinette,” Tikki says as Marinette stashes the pictures away. “It’s super admirable that you can recognise what you need to improve on and how to work on it! That’s exactly what makes you such a great Ladybug.”

“Thanks, Tikki,” Marinette says with a wistful smile at her stack of Adrien modelling pictures. The only photos of Adrien left on her wall are those where he’s either with friends or smiling for a dorky photo: selfies from their phones, silly pictures shared between them and Alya and Nino, even the fun ones that the whole class (minus Chloé and Sabrina) had done together after Juleka had been akumatised. There’s a sense of rightness settling inside her as she examines the photos on her wall that show the real Adrien, happy with his friends, rather than Adrien the model that the world gets to see. In that moment, she knows she’s made the correct choice.

[thegayfromrulid]

Frkm 1 allll the way to 99. Also, the next SAO game eugeo lives as a sword and not die (thank GOD)

@2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

Chocolate bars- I will not eat lollipops. 

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

Cotton candy! I actually get super bad headaches from bubblegum.

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

Probably lonely genius...

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

Soda bottles!! I feel so fancy!! And old-timey.

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

I guess tomboy even though I’m a boy??

7. earbuds or headphones?

Aren’t these the same thing? I think I prefer over-ear headphones, but I don’t really like either. 

8. movies or tv shows?

Depends on the genre I guess. But as a main rule, live action- movies, animated- TV shows.

9. favorite smell in the summer?

Potato salad.

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

Frankly, I wasn’t good, but I was really good at pissing all the jocks off-

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

I make myself these homemade egg mcmuffins. I enjoy them a lot. I am very picky about breakfast.

12. name of your favorite playlist?

I only have one and it’s very generic: The Gay From Rulid’s Playlist. Yes it’s on Spotify. Yes, it’s 99% anime openings and endings and maybe Bet On It from HSM2. Be ashamed of me. Go on.

13. lanyard or key ring?

Lanyard! Mine is a BNHA one I bought from an artist at Nekocon!

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

Either Sweet Tarts or Nerds. 

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

I usually have one leg tucked up under me and the other stretched out.

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

A black and white pair of Skechers. They look like shit. They almost never are replaced by another shoe. Not even in the gross muggy heat.

18. ideal weather?

When it’s just warm enough to wear a t-shirt and sit in the sunshine, but cool enough that I’m not hot, and a little breeze is going. I think of this weather quite often. 

19. sleeping position?

On my belly kinda spread out like a shounen protagonist.

21. obsession from childhood?

J.R.R. Tolkien. Have always been obsessed with him and his works. 

22. role model?

Redundant, but Tolkien again. Linguist and writer. Living my dream. 

23. strange habits?

I unplug things like microwaves, lamps, and TVs when I am done using them. Very little remains plugged in at my place. The modem, the fridge, and the clock. That is it.

24. favorite crystal?

Amethyst. It’s my sister’s middle name. And I especially like the purple ones.

25. first song you remember hearing?

Blue by Eiffel 65. I don’t know why that song sticks out so much in my memory but it’s nostalgic for me. Tiny AJ hyperfixated on this song before anything else ya’ll. 

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

Curl up in the sun on a blanket and nap. 

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

Hot cocoa blanket cuddles. 

28. five songs to describe you?

Uhhhh...I’m not very musically literate. Let’s go with Born This Way (the first person I came out to sent me that song so it feels special!), I’m Free to Be Me by Jamie Grace, Praying by Kesha, Shake It Off by Taylor Swift ( @delicateeuphorias​ would you believe it xD), and right now thinking about someone dear to me who’s been gone See You Again is stuck in my brain.

30. places that you find sacred?

Arboretums or big botanical gardens where I can get lost in the plants for a moment and take in how pretty they all are. And old monuments/big things people of the past built. A lot of things were built by people with no rights/freedom and I think about them and how despite the fact that they had nothing, they made such a lasting impact on our world. 

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

*slips on my Owari no Seraph cosplay* I will kick ass in this sweet ass cape-

33. most used phrase in your phone?

My phone seems to think it’s “Kirito’s ass” and I want it to not think that.

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

O-O-O-O’REILLYYYYYYYYYY’S...Autooo PARTS.

35. average time you fall asleep?

I’m an insomniac it could be 10 pm it could be 3 am who knows I sleep for an hour I’m up again...

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

Fucking CAN I HAS CHEEZBURGR cats. 

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

This all boils down to how much I’m packing. Going for a sleepover? Duffel. Going to con? My giant suitcase with room for all the bells and whistles of cosplay.

38. lemonade or tea?

Tea!

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

Oh cruel I looooove lemon. The pie!

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

In high school here- so, aside from me being the resident weirdo (I DID come to school dressed as the TARDIS), my senior class decided to squirt hundreds of bottles of chocolate syrup on the sidewalks. We were an open campus so it’s all in front of our classroom doors- we had no hallways. And then they. They fucking EGGED ALL THE DOORS. The whole campus smelled like...ick.

41. last person you texted?

My father and mother in a group text to cry about customers treating me poorly. 

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

I prefer the jacket pockets because I still haven’t found a way to get men’s pants under the radar of my ever-watchful parents and women’s jeans pockets are SHITTY. Women gotta boycott this shit it is UNACCEPTABLE-

44. favorite scent for soap?

Peppermint...peppermint ^-^ I like to smell like...mint.

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

Fantasy!

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

Recently I was reminded I live alone and my new favorite sleeping outfit...is...just some boxer shorts. Suck it dysphoria. Manly nightwear.

47. favorite type of cheese?

Pepper jack, Swiss, or ricotta. 

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

Strawberry :3

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

I’m gonna sound so gay but when @disasterbikirito​ started laughing about a certain GIF and his laugh was so infectious I couldn’t help but laugh too. 

51. current stresses?

Are you shitting me it’s everything. Every. Single. Thing. I cannot breathe. I am having meltdowns. Someone fucking save me I cannot deal with COVID well.

52. favorite font?

Garamond for writing in my free time, Doulous SIL for all the linguistics IPA symbols my greedy heart desires. 

53. what is the current state of your hands?

Smooth but my fingertips have been gnawed on. I am stressed, okay?

54. what did you learn from your first job?

Gosh, lots of things. But the most important takeaway is that a good boss will genuinely care about you. I miss that man. He was so wonderful and so caring and taught me so much about theater. Technical things and artistic things and historical things. Sometimes I wish I could have made a career out of working under him. 

55. favorite fairy tale?

Beauty and the Beast (AH...AH...I SEE YOU ROLLING YOUR EYES BECAUSE I’M TRANS. I KNOW. I *KNOW*.)

56. favorite tradition?

It’s a family tradition kinda unique to my household. Each year, we draw a name from a hat, and that name comes with a lot of words that describe us and what we liked over that year. We then each take a $20 bill and we go to a little hobby shop with cheap things in it and use that $20 bill to fill a Christmas stocking. We then hang them back up and empty the stocking full of candies and random silly things and have a good laugh and guess who filled whose stocking. 

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

The first one is coming to terms with knowing my dad has a severe illness. It really shook my family up, and it’s terrifying us right now with everything going on, but after a while, I learned that he was smiling, so I could smile, too.

The second one is my mother coming back from her tour in the Middle East on top of the murder of my godmother. Two very stressful things happened at once. My mother got very violent from her PTSD and her best friend died in a horrible way. It was an adjustment for everyone, and it kind of ripped my family to pieces. I can say, though, that my parents are still married and are getting better, and my sister and I are coming back to the family to be more open and healthy.

The third, and maybe some of my followers are aware, was getting rid of my ex-fiance. He was a man who sexually assaulted me repeatedly and I won’t go into details beyond that. It took me 5 years to get rid of him and accept what happened, but I am a much happier person now and while I work through the trauma that caused me, I have the most wonderful partner by my side and if you had told me back then I’d find someone as kind and patient and loving as him, I would have laughed and thought you were insane. 

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

Probably what I put on all my fanfic updates: “I know. I’m an asshole.”

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

Some kind of shoujo romance but it’s bi also I want a sword.

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

There was nothing more smartass than Alice Synthesis 30 in SAO 18 asking a reporter to open up his head and prove he was human I’m sorry like OOF-

63. five songs that would play in your club?

Get in losers, we’re playing Steppin’ Out by FLOW, Elle me dit by Mika, Blue by Eiffel 65, ADAMAS by LiSA, and Touch Off by UVERworld.

64. favorite website from your childhood?

I was on Webkinz more than I want to admit. 

65. any permanent scars?

Yup. I have one on my toe where I split the skin in half. I tripped. I have three surgical scars from when I had my appendix removed. And...the mystery scar. I was supposedly born with a scar it’s at the part where my foot meets my leg on my left side and you can see how it’s stretched over the years if you run your finger over it. The joke is that the doctor taking out my mom’s appendix scratched me in the womb. 

67. good luck charms?

Not really a charm but I do have a little Kirito keychain I carry everywhere I go that I fiddle with when I’m nervous.

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

Artificial bubblegum. Disgustiiiing.

70. left or right handed?

I am right-handed.

71. least favorite pattern?

Zig-zags. 

72. worst subject?

History...I am ashamed. It’s interesting, I just suck at it.

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

Gingerbread and marshmallow. I am a bit picky about mixing foods and flavors, so this was the weirdest I could think up. 

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

Can you hear that? It’s my hysterical laughter. 12 on a scale of 10. I get up there pretty frequently. Thank you, chronic crippling pain. 

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

I...I don’t remember...I don’t even remember...I think I had to be like what...kindergarten? 

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

THIS IS CRUEL I LOVE ALL POTATOS I LOVE THEM ALL SO MUCH-Au gratin.

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

Aloe!

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

Coffee from a gas station. Mark my words...I will never get grocery store sushi. Ever. Again. My stomach has not forgotten. What a mistake. That was. 

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

So, my driver’s license hasn’t had an updated photo since I was 15 and just had a learner’s so I look like I want to murder a man but my school ID I had just run about a mile in the cold because the bus wasn’t running that day and my face is red and I look like I’m crying...probably the school ID...

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

Jewel tones~~

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

I am from the South and we call ‘em lightnin’ bugs.

82. pc or console?

Errrrr console. I’m not a gamer by any means but there’s way fewer things to press on a console controller. 

84. podcasts or talk radio?

Neither...what...no...neither...they will put me to sleep...I will be out in seconds...the most dangerous things...people talking...and then I’m out...

84. barbie or polly pocket?

Barbie, she’s a LOT easier to dress. Those rubber clothes. SMH.

86. cookies or cupcakes?

Cookies but they gotta be the soft ones.

87. your greatest fear?

Being swallowed in the ocean. By a fish or a whale. I don’t play. Church kid don’t play with big things in the ocean with big mouths.

88. your greatest wish?

To make enough of a difference in someone’s life that they learn to love themself.

89. who would you put before everyone else?

Such a selfish thought...gosh...the mere thought of prioritizing someone troubles me. 

90. luckiest mistake?

Telling a cute guy sending me dog pictures was an excellent flirting technique as he sent me pictures of his puppy. I immediately thought “oh god I’ve fucked up bad” and at present we’re kinda head over heels for one another so maybe just be stupidly blunt once and a while you might find true love. 

91. boxes or bags?

Boxes. My cat didn’t force me to say that. Not at all. Sock, buddy, off the keyboard-

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

Sunlight. I like the sun. The sun is my friend. It is warm and would never betray me.

93. nicknames?

Sister calls me “spoony” when she’s being ridiculous. No, I don’t know what that means. Mama calls me “cakes.” I had friends who called me “Deku” because I’m a crybaby. Had a few people DM me and straight up call me “Eugeo” or “Eug.” AJ is technically a nickname. 

94. favorite season?

Springtime!!!!! It’s...HERE!

95. favorite app on your phone?

I use like three apps...so Discord.

96. desktop background?

It’s. It’s Kirito and Eugeo. What did you expect.

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

Mama’s, dad’s, mine, and my parents’ house number. And does the emergency 911 count (pahahaha). 

(I answered the others in delicateeuphoria’s ask!)

[peterstanslizzie]

Re-watching Lizzie Mcguire: Episode 1.15 (Lizzie’s Nightmare)

- Our main trio are having their classic, usual three-way phone conversation and Lizzie is upset that she had green spinach (or liquorice) stuck between her teeth and her best friends didn’t point it out to her. But she does get some good news; Ethan told Gordo that it’s cool for Lizzie to have lunch with him if she wants to. 

- However, Lizzie is again upset with Gordo because he didn’t let her know of the news sooner to which he thinks that having lunch with Ethan is unimportant. Miranda begs to differ because she believes in the notion that if you hang out with popular people like Ethan, you become popular as well. 

She should be glad it’s just honey and not superglue

- Well, Lizzie now has a third reason to be upset because her phone seems to be stuck on the side of her face. And both Lizzie and us viewers already know this is the doing of Matt Mcguire. 

Matt Alone

- Jo Mcguire is helping her daughter to get rid of the honey stuck in her hair but Lizzie is freaking out because she’s going to have lunch with Ethan later and needs to look her best. Jo tries to get her husband Sam to compliment Lizzie to re-build confidence but because he is oblivious to these kind of things, he fails to compliment her correctly. 

- Matt is on the phone with Lanny and he is talking to him about the prank he just pulled on Lizzie. However, he isn’t aware that his family was listening in on his conversation and he is caught red-handed. He isn’t punished right away because he has to quickly catch his school bus. Next, we see Matt walking towards the bus stop alone and realises the bus is leaving without him. 

Okay but why didn’t the driver question Matt for boarding a middle school bus?

- He manages to get the bus to stop for him but turns out, he is actually on the wrong school bus! That doesn’t bother him at all though. Matt really needs to see somebody lol.

Gordo Needs Some Guy Friends

- At Hillridge Junior High, Lizzie is making sure she looks alright before she heads over to have lunch with Ethan in the cafeteria. Gordo just doesn’t care about the whole ‘Having Lunch with Ethan’ ordeal. Honestly, I sometimes wish Gordo had at least one close guy friend to hang out with instead of just having Lizzie and Miranda. It would balance out the energy of this current group of friends. 

I think Gordo just can’t stand how his friends are obsessed with achieving popularity when he’s the antithesis of that. But I also believe he’s jealous of the fact that Lizzie likes Ethan Craft still. 

Matt Meets Ethan

- First things first, why is it that Ethan is riding the school bus in this scene when we saw Lizzie and her pals at school in the previous scene? Shouldn’t they all be in school at the same time? Or maybe the timeline of scenes isn’t necessarily in chronological order? 

- Anyways, Ethan sees Matt sitting in his usual seat on the bus and demands for him to move but Matt isn’t having any of it and proceeds to make fun of Ethan by calling him a “Franken-dork?” That’s a lame insult if I ever heard one but okay. 

- When Ethan is about to get physical with a 10 year old, Matt inserts another one of his one-liners and actually manages to charm Ethan. Well, that was a quick way to dissolve a situation.

We finally get to see this combination of characters interact

- Back in school, Lizzie is super excited for her lunch with Ethan and is even picturing their future wedding. Girl, stop! Ethan ain’t all that especially how he tried to leave Miranda during their marriage project presentation a few episodes ago. Or did the show completely brush off what had happened?

- Apparently, the whole school is talking about this new kid who just entered their grade and is friends with Ethan. He is also described to be super accomplished and intelligent. We all know that this person is Matt (minus the accomplished and intelligent part...haha I’m just playing....). 

OMG! Is this the first ever scene of Lizzie’s hitting her head into things? This gag is such a classic on Lizzie Mcguire!

Concerned Parents

I had to google who Leif Garrett is

- Sam is the living room with his laptop and he is busy holding an online auction to sell off some of their old Leif Garrett records. Jo tells Sam she received a call from Matt’s school and they informed her he didn’t turn up for class. She immediately thinks it’s her fault because the last thing she told Matt before he left the house was “maybe they should send him away forever”. 

- If I were in Jo’s shoes, I would be worried sick as well. She thinks he ran away from home because of her. Her husband tries to stay calm in this situation and reminds Jo that Matt has done things like this a number of times before. They then start looking for Matt.

It is so hilarious how Jo took Matt to the toy-store just so that she can get close to Tarzan. And Sam now realises everything! I would like to believe it’s all just harmless flirting...

IMO, Gordo Is  Jealous and Paths are Crossed 

- Lizzie is moments away from having lunch with Ethan and suddenly Gordo pops up in front of her to remind her that her being obsessed with hanging out with Ethan is kinda pathetic and whilst I do agree with that statement, I also think there’s a hint of jealousy in the way he’s telling her all of this.  

These are two of the least emotional screams I have ever heard!

- Ethan and a bunch of other students are crowded around a table and they are apparently watching somebody in the middle. Ethan calls Lizzie to come over to where the crowd is and bam, she spots Matt and Matt spots Lizzie! Did Matt not know Lizzie goes to this school?

- Lizzie pulls Matt out of the cafeteria and starts questioning him whether or not they are related. Matt tells Lizzie he loves being in her middle school and he wants to stay. Even Kate Sanders thinks Matt’s cool. It’s cool how Kate said she could recognise Matt a little bit because you know, she used to be best friends with Lizzie and they used to have sleepovers at each other’s homes. So, I’m sure she has seen Matt a number of times before. 

- Back at the Mcguire home, Sam and Jo are questioning Lanny on the whereabouts of Matt but as expected, he just isn’t saying anything and they are not getting anything out of him. Funnily enough, a police officer who is there to help them find Matt actually seems to understand Lanny. Even if this is Lanny’s second official appearance, I’m starting to get a little tired of this gag...

Lizzie Wants Matt Gone

- Lizzie is debating with Miranda about whether or not she should call her parents to pick Matt up from school. This is such a no-brainer question; Of course she should! Matt skipped school for no good reason. But Miranda doesn’t want Matt to go because she wants to use his friendship with Ethan for her own selfish benefit of gaining popularity. Why is being popular such a big deal to her anyways? I mean, what can you gain from being popular in middle school lol?

Clumsy Lizzie scene #2. Ouch! that look like it hurt. 

- Did Miranda straight up walked away from that kid who got stuck inside a locker? LOL Miranda! No wonder nobody li.....you know what, never-mind.

- At the Principal’s office, Lizzie is about to use the phone to call her parents but suddenly, Principal Tweedy (played by Mr. Moseby...I mean Phil Lewis) walks into the room with Matt by his side. He warns Lizzie to not the use the phone unless it’s for an emergency to which she says it is. Lizzie manages to convince him to call their parents because they are busy looking all over for him. 

- The call goes straight to voicemail and Principal Tweedy leaves a message saying how it’s been a joy to have Matt at the school and this shocks Lizzie. 

- We skip to Lizzie talking to Ethan in the classroom about Matt and how he shouldn’t believe everything he tells him. However, Matt beat Lizzie to it and convinces Ethan that Lizzie has permanent brain freeze and other crazy things. Well, it’s not hard to get Ethan to believe those kind of things. 

Jo Snaps

- Jo Mcguire is ravelling from all of the guilt she’s feeling about losing Matt and she even snaps at the police officer who quite frankly is useless lol. Sam suddenly remembers he turned the phone off to use the internet for this auction and they quickly head over to the phone to check for voice messages.

- They got two voice messages; One is from Jo’s mom and the other one is left by Principal Tweedy. My patience is being tested because not one of them bothered to mention they should listen to the voice message left by Lizzie’s school principal. 

Matt Is Finally Busted

- Lizzie is looking very calm right now because she tells her friends that she actually snuck into Principal Tweedy’s office to call the police to come get Matt. As soon as she said that, they arrive just in time to arrest him. But this time, being taken in by the cops made Matt even more popular with the middle schoolers. Lizzie just can’t win!

- At the very least, however, Matt is punished heavily by their parents: Grounded for 1 month, no TV, no phone and he needs to stay away from Lizzie by about 10 feet. 

- All of a sudden, Lizzie’s phone is receiving another call and it’s Ethan! She freaks out because she cannot believe Ethan is calling her. But he’s only calling her to ask her if she could pick up a pizza for him and Matt for lunch on Saturday. Lizzie is furious and she tells Ethan that’s when Matt’s nap time is and quickly hangs up. 

What a way to fall! 

Overall Thoughts

- What a packed episode! There were so many things going on and it’s all related to Matt missing school. If I’m not wrong, this is the first episode where Matt is in the A-storyline, which is intertwined with Lizzie’s story-line. So, the dynamics in this episode is a little different to the previous ones and I kinda like it.

- It’s very rare for me to say I didn’t takeaway any sort of lesson from a Lizzie Mcguire episode but this episode is an exception. I don’t think there was a clear lesson to be learned based on what I’ve seen here and that’s fine because this episode was just for pure entertainment purposes from Lizzie’s falling gag to Matt being popular in her school and everybody, including Ethan being in awe over him (this is very over-the-top plot point by the way).

- In conclusion, this is definitely one of the funnier episodes of Lizzie Mcguire and I really appreciate Hilary’s commitment to physical comedy here. She definitely sold it to me. 

[scarletfwooper]

Episode 10: The Terrible No Good Very Bad Tuesday

Saffron runs throughout campus frantically looking for Dumbledore, unbeknownst to her he’s been gone for days. Upon realizing that no one is there to help her she runs to Gryffindor Tower to find Bill. When he’s no where to be found she suffers a breakdown. Alana attempts to help the situation, but quickly grows frustrated when Saffron won’t answer her. Eventually she ends up using the silencing charm of Saffron to make her stop screaming for Bill.

Bill arrives and takes her to his room. After a long time she admit what had happened. Bill insists they tell McGonagall after she rest, she agrees. Saffron has a dreamless sleep. Helene and Elena sleep of their earlier alcohol in Ravenclaw tower. The two share a cute moment before Elena sneaks out the window.

The next morning Alana tries to apologize to Saffron, but she refuses to accept it. Bill and Saffron go to start looking for the Professor, but they end up going to breakfast because Saffron’s not feeling well and Bill’s worried for her. Charlie talks to Alana as they head to breakfast where they’re joined by Andre and his cousin Sapphire.

A bruised at Hec arrives sitting at his own table with Aud. They are joined by Jae and Awilda. Charlie receives a howler from his mom that scolds him on his recent behavior, the note end on a happy note praising Bill and Saffron’s relationship. As she’s leaving Saffron over hears Alana talking about reading peoples minds, angry that she didn’t know she tells Alana to stay out of her head and out of her life before storming out of the Great Hall.

Bill and Alana follow her out and find her sitting in the hall trying to calm down and ease her headache. She begs Alana to leave but Alana demands an explanation, she begs Bill to make Alana leave but he’s at a loss for what to do. Hector leaves the Great hall going to make sure Saff’s alright. The rest of his group decide to go work on the monster hunt.

Andre, Sapphire, and Charlie go to spy on the brewing fight. Saffron accuses Alana of using her magic to control people, citing herself, Hector, and Penny, and refuses to accept the apology again. Alana breaks down crying feeling like a monster and runs off. Andre chases after her, Charlie and (cat) Sapp in tow. Hector sits down next to Saff on the floor.

Audrey, Awilda, Wolfie, and the rest of the monsters start formulating a plan not to kill the monster, but to get Kettleburn to help them capture it. Saffron who feels betrayed Bill didn't stand up for her tells Bill he should go comfort Alana. Bill insists he wants to stay and make sure she's okay. She insists she's fine even though she can't even walk without heavily leaning on him. She decides to love him despite whether or not she trust him not to leave her.

Hector attempts to apologize for not saying their friends but botches it. Saffron decides even if she's not his friend he's hers and warns him about Sasha. Andre comforts Alana and tells her she's not a monster, the two end up kissing in the owlry. Beneath them Sapp and Charlie flirt and make animal noises to annoy Alandre. The monster hunting gang continue to work on monster solutions. Saff and Bill decided to go back to looking for McGonagall.

Hector look everywhere for Audrey, he finally finds her near the Quiddich pitch. He warns her about Sasha, but she doesn’t share his point of view and points out he doesn’t have all the facts. They come to a sort of agreement where they'll have Rakepick be the one they go to for last resort. Aud tells Hec what she heard while in the investigation/interrogation. He doesn’t like the way she word him being liked by Snape, but he lets it and her opinion of Sasha lay. Before he leaves she informs him of what the group has discussed involving the lake.

Snape interrogates Bex and Alana using similar tactics to the ones he used on the others. Bex suggests the punishment should be a year of detention whereas Alana thinks they should get a year of detention plus Hector should lose his privileges (his prefect badge). Snape implies/states that Alana is the common factor among these fights. Alana refuses to back down telling him he’s a bully and he’ll hear from her father.

Alana ends up losing a total of 600 house points, her privileges (to attend events, Hogsmead, or Quiddich games), and gains detention for as long as Snape deems fit. Bex loses ten house points and is asked/forced into attending detention as well to work on her skills and help Alana with her abilities. Once Alana and Bex are free they have a short conversation before she heads off to find Andre. He informs her he’s already received his punishment.

Andre’s position on the Quiddich team had been returned to him…. On one condition. He bet Snape Alana loved him enough to not do something to hurt him. So if she doesn’t follow through with her punishment he loses his position….permanately. On the upside, his guardianship of Alana grants him unquestionable access to Gryffindor tower, so there’s that.

Bex has her career meeting with professor Sprout who warns her that while she can help her get into NEWT level Herbology she cannot help her with potions. Sprout promises to get Bex a summer apprenticeship with Newt Scamander this summer should she manage to do well. Bill and Saff visits McGonagall who contacts the Ministry. They find out a 5931 was been filled under Dumbledore's orders and there's little they can so. They are given time off class and told to rest. Saffron suggest they use this time to go to her favorite place: the lake.

Chris Ocasio decides to spend the last few hours of sunlight engrossed in a good book. Charlie and Sapphire have a conversation about Charlie's guilt while they watch the animals in the reserve. Bex went to the reserve to try to calm down while fighting off a spirit. When Wolfget went looking for Ketteburn to the reserve he found Bex, and sensed something lurking near her.

Audrey, Mystic, Faireth, Dia, and Awilda meet up at the Courtyard and go to the Lake - Aud gives them flares for signaling purposes and also gives them a potion to breathe underwater. Green Clues. 3 sticks. Yellow Danger/Avoid that area. 3 sticks Red Emergency. 1 stick. Bill and Saffron go to the lake in their swim suits to have an nice end to their hard day.

The group enters the waters, they spread out to look for clues of monster. Aud finds dead Grindylows. Awilda goes diving and forget what the codes was for the sticks. She sees a lot of half eaten merpeople, but is too dumb to leave a red stick. This sends the others into a panic. Aud goes over to Awilda who uses “lumos Maximum” at the monster, and Fair spots one of the monsters and sends a spell flying.  Everyone scrambles to get away and scare the monster away, but they notice a second one is going for Mys.

Dia scares off the one coming for her and Wil helps her. Dia helps the others fight the monster in the lake. Depulsos the monster. Yeets out twice via Ascendio. She dives back like three times because she doesn't wanna abandon her friends. Aud goes for Mys and keeps the second one away but Mys goes unconscious from water. Fair goes over to help Aud carry Mys off. Aud goes after the other one going after the others.  Bill and Saffron play around splashing each other before things turn flirty and they start to snog. Awilda shouts at Bill and Saffron to get out of the water. Saffron turns to look at Awilda when something takes Saffron under the water. Bill and Aud pull her away and scares it off. Everyone escapes to shore but Aud chases after the two monsters. Awilda uses Lumos Maximun again at the second monster.

Eventually, Bex couldn’t fight the spirit off anymore and Wolfget had to step in and rid of an evil spirit that tried to posses her. She notices Charlie and Saph’s conservation while Wolfget is getting the spirit out of her and is heartbroken. Charlie and Sapphire are about to have a moment, when its interrupted by Bill yelling. They run and find the lake in chaos. Saffron is injured. Sapphire stays with the rest while Charlie tries to go help out.

Bill pulls Saffron to shore, but she’s not breathing. He gives her crappy CPR and takes her to the hospital wing. Bill, Charlie, and Hec discover a rune on her leg, which Hec points out has been there for awhile. A Nordic Rune. Wolfget takes Bex to the infirmary agreeing to talk about what happened later. Wolf talked with Hec about Bex's incident and asked him if they could talk later when Hector had time. After he leaves, she becomes depressed and questions why she’s still here when she’s so forgettable. Saffron recalls her dreams, but stays quiet, finding comfort in Bill.

Aud leaves a differently-colored flare by where they stopped at. Fair gets mad because Audrey is risking her life at every given occasion and wants to do things alone is very annoyed at her. They blows up the place where the two escaped two and now the boulders are trapping the monsters there. They get out of the lake and Aud performs CPR on Mys. Saph is nearby and unsure of what to do. When Mys wakes up they all go to the infirmary to recover and calm down. Hector is really stressed out by all the injured. Mystic arrives and Hec takes a look at her. She has a large bruise from her ankle to knee. Mystic asks for Clayton and Fair write him for her. Clayton comes and relives a memory of Mystic first being abused by their father. He then gets the idea of becoming a Hogwarts professor.

Dia gets lightly injured when the monster grabs her wand arm which she doesn't bring attention to because its "not really important". Snape confronts all of us on the way to Pomfrey's. Awilda has a panick attack that is mild but still showing, avoids Snapes eye contact when they got questioned. Dia tries to comfort Awilda but lets Aud do it instead because she's better at it. Awilda runs in Constantine and tells her everything, leaving her stressed that Contanstine will tell Snape that she has been at the Black Lake.

Dia doesn't know what to do with herself when the reach the hospital so leans by a wall. Penny joins her, asking what hapened. She then tells her off and helps out with the patients. Penny notices her discomfort and passes her a Wiggenweld potion. Penny helps out Hector who’d taken over for Pomfrey. Pomfrey leaves to drink. Charlie tries to comfort Sapphire while she is having an anxiety attack. Saph passes out. Charlie takes care of her. She wakes up delirious. Charlie convinces her to drink water. She is exhausted through everything she went through and Charlie and her end up snuggling in the bed. Bill gives Saffron potions to get all the lake water out of her and to feel better. Bill takes Saffron to his room. Hec checks up on Bex and she continuously gets flustered as they talk. Her feelings for Hec continue to develop. Wolfget and Hector talk in the infirmary after everything calms down. Wolf apologizes to Hec for threatening him during his fight with Charlie. Hec accepts Wolf's apologies, so all is good. They talked about what happened in the forest, and both are in their road to friendship. Mystic wakes up and teleports to the Astronomy tower to hang with Dante. Dante has a flashback. Mystic Teleports them back to the Infirmary. Faireth visits them at the infirmary, but goes away quickly. She goes to the Prefects Bathroom, to test the limits of her oxygen bubble and other spells. Bex and Wolfget have a talk about the possession and bond over their experiences on demons and spirits. Wolfget agrees to move his extra lessons at the same time as the tutoring and Bex gratefully thanks him.

Mama and Papa Graves go to the ministry meeting up with Dumbledore and Rakepick. Clayton and Rakepick try to talk about Mystics mental health. They notices something wrong with Mama Graves she's quite, and won't respond unless Papa Graves asks her to. Rakepick asks about it, Papa Graves gets angry. After some communication about an earlier conversation with Dumbledore papa Graves gets frozen. They then Check on Mama Graves and discover the Imperius curse. They Break the curse and ask that Clayton, Dante and Mystic are to be alerted and must arrived as quickly as possible. Mama Graves doesn't remember anything from after the curse was cast.

Andre babysits Alana and they play sexy 21 Questions while the others are out. When Bill comes in he suggests they go check on Andre’s cousin Sapphire. Bill and Saffron go take a sexy bath in the prefects bathroom. Bex escapes the Hospital Wing and goes to hunt down Charlie and finds him talking with Saph. They ask her if she’s doing well and she confirms, calling them by their full name, something she hasn’t done since the beginning of the year and immediately apologies for it. Bex asks to speak to Charlie alone. Charlie accepts and asks Saph to meet up later, which she agrees but decides to follow them. Bex leads Charlie to a room that she used to escape to when she was younger to escape the bullies. Bex gets up and casts a few silencing charms and says coldly that she gave him a second chance after he fought with Andre, that she didn’t consider giving him a second chance when he forcefully kissed Alana until he helped her out, and because he seem to regret the fight with Hector, she will give him another, but warns him not to waste it.

Saffron tries to tells Bill what she’s been going through, but feels like he’s never on her side and doesn’t want to understand. He says she’s being unfair to Alana and that she keeps pushing everyone away. They fight and she accuses him of looking for reasons like everyone else (Hector, Jacob, he mother) does. He storms in and she breaks down crying. He comes back and comforts her. She tells him about her bad dreams. She sleeps in his bed again that night but has nightmares.

Charlie goes to Snape office where he finds Hec by himself. The door was locked and not even Alohamora could open it. Charlie began a heart to heart with Hec, apologizing for his part of the fight and what he had said. The pair made up just in time for Snape to come in. Snape questioned Hector on what punishment Charlie should get, and Hector said he had been punished enough. Snape asked Charlie what should happen to Hector and he told him nothing because they had both learned from it and made up. Snape began antagonizing Charlie about what he had been doing, using jokes that the friends had come up with to make all Charlie’s women friends out to be "harlots". Snape took away Charlie's O mark from his last paper, and threatened his future if he didn’t change his ways and friends. Charlie proceeded to tell Snape that he was not his father so he couldn’t tell him what to do with his life and if he had to give up his friends to keep on his career path, he would find another way. Snape told Charlie that his punishment was to stay away from women, or the women in his life's careers would suffer by his doing.

After that, Charlie's free to leave the office. Not Hector. He's ordered to close the door of the office and return to his seat. He does that and waits for his own punishment. Snape, however, seems finished and starts to grade papers. Hector, growing confused, asks the professor-- but Snape tells him that there's no punishment for him and that Hector has been the victim all along. He was simply keeping him there to watch the "show". Bewildered, Hector tries to reason with him even as all the house points Gryff lost is returned to him. Snape stops him from continuing, telling him that if he had a son, he'd imagine him to be very much like Hector. Understandably, the boy is stunned into silence.

Snape then pulls Hector into a very awkward embrace, one that Hector is equally disturbed and comforted by... and felt a strange sense of longing, wishing that it was his father giving him these kind words instead of Snape. The thought brings him to tears, and he leaves the office in that state.

Charlie left and was followed to the lake by Sapphire in his animagus form. Charlie told Sapphire about what Snape did and what Snape had called them. Charlie left Sapphire but not before giving her a kiss on the head and promising her that he would find a way to fix it. Charlie passed Alana on the way to Gryffindor tower and told her to talk to Sapphire because he couldnt talk to her. Charlie wrote a letter to his parents. As Charlie leaves, she sit by herself near the lake as a sad blob. Bex and Alana finds her and do some cheering up before asking her what's wrong. She tells them what happened. She goes to Bex's secret hideout and talk with them.

Hector runs into Audrey quite literally. After they get up she brings him to the seventh floor room. It's cleaned up nicely, since Hector and a few others worked on in while everyone else were still recovering in the infirmary. They sit on a couch and Hector recounts what has happened in the office, carefully leaving out what happened after Charlie left. After that, their conversation moved on to their superficial relationship and how it came out from obligation-- but Audrey never saw it as superficial or as an obligation to care for Hector, and when she questions him he begins to wonder if he's growing out of that obligation. Soon enough, his thoughts wander back to Snape's words and soon his real father, and confesses to Aud about how much he misses him and how much he hates Mr. Silva, soon asking Aud what she thinks about her own dad. Audrey tells him, and is curious why Hec's bringing this all up. He starts to cry when he thinks about his real father once more, and overcome by emotion he hugs her. She's surprised; even more so when Hector tells her that he'd like to imagine having a sister like her. She's touched by it and also finds herself hugging him back, telling him that she's been here for him and will continue to be. They sleep on the couch that night, comforted by their renewed relationship with each other.

Clayton and Rakepick have a moment as they wait to see how his mother is. Clayton accepts the position he was offered at Hogwarts. Clayton takes his siblings to go see their mother. Their mother learns of everything that has happened to. She threatens to kill their father. They stop her saying they don't want to loose her again. The boys leave, Mystic tells Mama Graves about Audrey. Mama Graves accepts it. Clayton and Dante talk. Clayton has a flashback. Clayton asks Dante to help him design his classroom at Hogwarts.

Mystic gets like no sleep because of a nightmare. Her friends ask her about it and she admits it. Dante shows up and takes Mystic back to her room to sleep. He takes Faireth to the Graves Manner to discuss how they will kill Papa Graves. Mama Graves finds out that Mystic almost drowned. The Imperius curse is mentioned. Mama Graves knows their dating. Invites all of Mystics Friends over for the summer. Clayton and Pomfrey meet up for a drink. They talk about how hard life can be. They have a moment of peaceful silence. Rakepick shows up and they all joke around. Clayton tickles Rakepick. Clayton recalls a childhood memory and Pomfrey calls them cute. Jokes get a little more ...... naughty after that. They joke around some more. Clayton sees the time, thanks them for the evening and goes home.

Costia drinks apple juice out of a wine glass, pissed that once again the others have rejected her friendship. She searches the lake for the so called “monster” that Awilda was talking about. She discovers the buried corpses of grindylows and mermaids. She throws a mermaid corpse into the lake.  Large bubbles rise to the surface after, indicating that something alive is down there. The next day, Slytherin students will wake up to a half eaten, rotting, mermaid corpse outside the common room windows.

[sunnydwrites]

To Light A Match

Corporal David Miller was not aware of the blood oozing from the aching wound in his arm. Nor was he conscious of the sloshing sound his boots made in the thick Vietnam mud, or the throbbing in his knees born of constant movement, or the overcast gray color the sky had taken on, or the slight drizzle that sliced translucent rivulets through the mud caked on his face.

He was barely aware of the quiet murmurs exchanged between his friends, the heavy silence that hung between the words. Plastic bottles knocked against bullets and an altoid tin in his backpack, but they might as well have been silent. His thoughtlessness extended, even, to oblivion in regards to the goosebumps on his skin and the shivers that were now quickly shifting from gentle quivers to racking tremors. Only the sound of his teeth knocking against each other had the power to draw him back, thought by thought, to the present moment, to the last place he wanted to be.

Beside Corporal David Miller, a baby-faced kid with a mop of red hair and plenty of freckles to spare fished around in his pockets in search of God-knows-what. He walked just a little too fast to keep the mud from splashing up on his pants, though that was easily the least of his worries. Kenny Woodward, perhaps the youngest of the group, was acutely aware of the tingling in his fingers, the way his stomach seemed to turn over on itself, the way his nausea grew with every cigarette-less place he searched. His pockets, his friends’ pockets, his bags, the nearby garbage cans they passed — all fruitless. All painfully empty. David jumped when Kenny knocked into him, but could barely find the coherency to speak. “Watch it,” he mumbled, rubbing his elbow. “Bad arm.”

But Kenny Woodward only noticed that he now held David’s attention. “Got any sticks?” he asked, his face so close that David could smell the fading tobacco on his breath.

“Ain’t had none since the womb,” he said, and six simple words set him back on a spiral. No longer was he a man of nearly nineteen, finally losing the childish roundness to his face, but an eight-year-old boy with his youthful look back in full.

His own house smelled like smoke, but didn’t everyone’s? A small thing, his house was, with pale green sidings, a dark gray roof, and a plum door. His mother had loved it, going so far as to take the cigarette out of her mouth to tell him of her days as an “exterior designer.” He had earned himself a good strike with the belt when he wondered out loud why, if she knew what she was doing, the house was such an eyesore.

Every day he would walk out of the house and inhale the sickeningly sweet scent of pure air. He would don a baseball cap to protect his face from the harsh light of the Arizona sun and walk to school. It was commonplace for the town of Maygrove, to have kids walking to school, from school, and everywhere in between. Surrounded by endless sand, it was a small pocket of civilization, totaling possibly ten thousand people in all. David, just one child in the midst of an entire lonely civilization, would never be aware of his own smallness of the world, at least not until nine grade world history class. It was truly a challenge to be aware of anything when Marjorie lived just a few doors down.

Marjorie Williams, a comically small girl of about David’s age, shone brighter than the constant sun in the sky. The few times she had turned her own pretty smile on him were etched permanently into his memory, and they left him addicted the way Kenny was now. She stood for the pledge every morning, said the words loudly and with a smile. Her dad had fought in World War II, she proclaimed proudly, and was immediately assaulted with a barrage of questions from the class. David did not ask any himself, rather sat towards the back of the classroom and watched as she presented everything she knew.

The world was enamored with Marjorie, and Marjorie chose a specific few people to love in return. Eight-year-old David Miller was not one of them, though that hardly stopped him. He wrote, Mrs. Marjorie Miller in a notebook, then Mr. and Mrs. David Miller. They would name their kids Lucas and Stephanie, he knew, and perhaps they would even have a dog. They would live in a house that didn’t smell of cigarette smoke, but instead of lavender and roses, they would live in a nice town surrounded by other towns instead of desert. All he needed was for her to look at him, one more time, and perhaps in the moment of their shared gazes they would grow old together.

It was foolish to imagine a life with Marjorie, he knew, but it was perhaps even harder to imagine one without her. She had only spoken to him in passing; he doubted she even knew his first name. If that was truly the case, he believed, then there was no way she would want to take his last one.

Marjorie Williams hugged him on the last day of school when he announced he would be joining the effort in Vietnam. He even thought he might have seen a small tear take residence in the corner of her eye, but they both blinked and it was gone. They broke away and, easily as if she had practiced in times past, Marjorie turned away to walk with her friends again. His existence faded easily in her mind, though in the rain of Vietnam her face shone brightly as if she walked there beside him.

David tripped over a root and nearly splashed into the mud again. The present enveloped him fully now, arms wide and cold and wet. Kenny found his way from person to person, and his search remained unsuccessful. David tried to lose himself in the walking again, the rhythm of left-right-left-right and the sloshing of the mud, to find his thoughts once again with Marjorie Williams and her warm departing hug. He was almost there, that feeling warming up his chest again. Had he been given just a few more seconds, the moment might have manifested, transformed this dystopia in something in possession of real beauty. The seconds did not come.

The moment before an explosion is a strange one, one that to this day Corporal David Millier cannot properly describe. A veil dropped over the group — maybe not real at all but entirely palpable nonetheless — and everyone, in that instant, knew. A minute tick was their only warning; perhaps it was a trigger plate or a tripwire. Kenny was the likely culprit, too desperate in his search to turn his eyes anywhere but the hiding place of a cigarette. Nobody saw it, or if they did there was a silent promise that they would never tell about it. Perhaps the group had not been the one to make it.

He watched the light expand in slow motion, enveloping Kenny Woodward’s begging hands and addicted eyes like a warm blanket. It went out further, shifting from white to yellow to orange in the most gorgeous gradient he had ever seen. Time froze for Corporal David Miller in the moment he watched light envelop his world.

His mother screamed when she saw him, eight years old, sitting on the bed. In less than a second she saw the matchbox in his left hand, the small match in his right, the small pile of charred wooden stubs on the carpeted floor next to him. David struck the next match, watching as the fire took its place and counting down the seconds until the flame would reach his fingertips.

“David, you blow that out right now!” she yelled, with nearly enough force to shake their home. “You blow that out and give me those matches!”

But her voice was in a tunnel, fading farther as David watched the flame creep its way down to his fingers. At the center, where it burned brightest, the flame was blue. Then it faded to yellow, then to orange at its edge. The wood it touched promptly shifted from tan to brown to crumbling black.

The flame reached his fingers, and David did not blow it out. He watched instead as it expanded out, further and further, engulfing the whole house until there was just David and the light. Then there was Kenny Woodward, his top half flying over Corporal David Miller’s head, the skin of his face blackened to a crisp and his eyes like runny eggs.

And over there was Miles, back arched with the grace of a ballerina. His left arm floated away from him, and the ring on his detached finger twinkling in the blinding light.

The light reached David at last, and his feet lifted off the ground. With the arrival of the blasting warmth was a snap, or a pop, or a thud, or a boom. It was a noise so loud, so terribly loud, something so unlike anything he had ever heard before. It was small and big and gentle and it made the world tremble.

Then it was all gone. Over. Done. David lay on his back, cold in the absence of heat, deaf in the absence of sound. His foot was numb, but his ankle shrieked in silent agony; there was a river on his shoulder and a pond in his stomach, both flooding the banks to create a lake beneath his back. Ringing finally arrived in his ears and the world gained just a touch of clarity, enough to see the person standing over him. He only felt his face after the third hard slap.

“Miller? Don’t leave us now, kid, stay awake.”

But Corporal David Miller could barely hear the person above him, not over the ringing in his ears. “What?” he asked, perhaps louder than he had intended. And then there were hands on him, rolling him over, and then he was in the air. The same person walked beside him, talking to someone carrying the other end of Corporal David Miller’s stretcher.

“Do you think they’re having any more luck?”

The person at his feet gives a low whistle, the sound nearly lost in the static of Corporal David Miller’s head. “Three hours since the blow? Think we’re lucky to get one.”

Three hours, Corporal David Miller thought for a fleeting moment, is impossible. The explosion just happened, and he just landed. He just saw Kenny’s runny egg eyes and Miles’ ring gleaming in the deadly light. He was just back at home, lighting a match and barely hearing his mother. He was just back at school, hugging Marjorie goodbye even though they had barely said hello in the first place.

Then he wasn’t in Vietnam anymore. No, he was someplace warm, comforting, smelling of mint and cleaning products.

Corporal David Miller woke up to a long room, like a curiously wide corridor. Curtains rose on either side of his bed, but across the aisle he could see others laying down. Some of them were awake, others far away in a dream world of their own. Blood and bandages were everywhere. As David moved his head, his vision lagged just a few moments like the tail end of a worm.

He struggled to stay in the real world, to remain a soldier of nineteen years rather than a child digging around in the mud in search of a worm. He blinked the thought away, then again, then again until it sat dormant but waiting in the back of his mind.

His foot was still numb. With an aching lack of strength, he lifted his head to see his foot — no, to see its absence. His leg was a stump ending just above his ankle. The ringing returned to his ears in full, high-pitched like an electric buzz with a terribly constant force.

Something was wrong, deeply wrong, and he was embarrassed of the relief he felt at the thought. An amputee soldier? Unheard of. Corporal David Miller was going home.

Twenty-six years later, David Miller walks easily with a prosthetic foot and a cane. The buzzing, constant in his ears, is merely background noise. He lets his mind wander as he walks the hiking trail, the last layers of frost on the grass crunching beneath his feet. He inhales the spring air, holding it for as long as his lungs can take. In the hints of life the wind carries, he swears he can smell rain and gunsmoke.

He walks along, nodding at the couple that passes him. They offer gentle smiles and continue on with their lives, and somewhere ahead David Miller hears the sound of a laughing child. It’s been too long since he’s heard it. His pace increases just a touch, until he comes upon the source of the noise.

Eight-year-old David, a kid with curly dark hair, a freckled ruddy face, and a history of close calls with a matchbook, tells a knock-knock joke. Corporal David Miller, with a bloodied stump of an ankle and blood running rivers throughout his uniform, who once survived only on daydreams of Mrs. Marjorie Miller, howls in laughter.

They both turn to look at him, but David Miller is motionless. They return to their play, content to be observed by their older counterpart. Apathetic to the way the mess coats their clothes, they splash around in the mud in a gleeful scavenger hunt. Was he once so truly carefree? Eight-year-old David, not yet truly Corporal David Miller or even David Miller at all, pulls a worm from the mud.“Found one!” he calls, and David Miller is compelled for the first time in nearly a year to smile. Their laughter mingles with the ringing in his ears to create the closest thing to harmony he’s heard in a while.

[heartbreakerholland]

lunchtime losers [p.p.]

Summary: Peter Parker was one of your best friends in high school, but there were moments that made you question who exactly he could be to you. Here are a few of those moments you spent in Midtown, trying to figure things out year by year.

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: mentions of underaged drug use, mild swearing, open ended. . . ending(?), unedited

Disclaimer: i cannot stress enough that you shouldn't do drugs/alcohol while underaged. i know high school is weird and everybody might seem to be experimenting with new things, but i promise there'll be a time and place where it's appropriate to do so. i am in no way glamorizing/romanticizing (underaged) drug use, even if it's such a small portion of this fic. drug/alcohol abuse is very serious, even as a teenager when it doesn't seem like you're abusing it.

A/N: i have some pointers! this is a different writing style compared to what i've posted before. i've written like this back when i first started writing fanfiction years ago and quite frankly, i don't even like it that much, so i'm very iffy about this. this is based off of my own experience with getting to know my feelings about a good friend, and a lot of the scenes in here are closely accurate to what's actually happened in my life. the only part that i can say is 100% pure imagination is the ending, which i know will probably make a lot of you frustrated ☺️ (it's because i still haven't told this person my feelings for him oops) ANYWAYS this is written in a very one sided perspective, but i tried to write in a way that you can read between the lines and get a little idea of what peter’s feelings are too. a lot of peter’s and the reader’s feelings are told merely through action and dialogue and less of actual explaining, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless 💞

feedback is greatly appreciated and feel free to request a part 2! enjoy reading!

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•••

Freshman Year

"This has been going on for weeks," Michelle muttered to you. "If the tension at the table gets any worse, then I'm not sitting with you guys anymore."

You stepped out of the lunch line with your tray in hand, following MJ to stand away from the crowd of students. Looking behind her, you watched Peter and Ned enter the lunch room and sit down at your usual table.

You rolled your eyes. "I already told you. Maybe Peter likes me and maybe I like him back, but he's always been one of my closest friends. I don't want to ruin that."

She scoffed and began walking towards the table with you at her side. "So? You can date and still be friends—"

"But what about when we break up? We either stay friends or never talk to each other again. I'm not risking it."

You knew she would have said more, but the two of you already made it to your table. You took place in your usual seats, Michelle next to Ned and you across from them, next to Peter. You set your backpack on the ground underneath the bench where everyone sat. Without thinking about it, you handed Peter your chocolate milk carton and apple sauce, while he slid over his fruit snacks that May always packed for him. It was a routine; you always got those because you didn't like eating it but you knew Peter did, and Peter never told May that he doesn't like fruit snacks because you loved eating them.

MJ narrowed her gaze at you during the interaction, but you chose to ignore her. It was nothing more than a routine.

"Y/N, Michelle," Ned said. "Please tell Peter that he's being stupid.”

Without missing a beat, you and MJ repeated Ned's words at the same time.

Peter glanced between the two of you with mock surprise. "You didn't even know what we were talking about!"

MJ shrugged, taking a bite out of her food. "Don't have to. You're always stupid, Parker."

He put a hand over his chest. "I'm hurt, guys. I really am."

You chuckled but said nothing more, allowing your three friends to carry the conversation while your mind wandered.

You tried your best to pinpoint the moment you began liking Peter as more than a friend, but your heart wasn't into it.

All you could really tell was when you became more conscious of how close you always sat with him, thighs glued to the side and elbows never coming apart. You blamed it on the lunch table crowded with other students on either side of your friend group, giving you absolutely no space for Jesus in between.

You would catch yourself staring, taking note of his mannerisms and how his light brown hair always seemed to bounce whenever his head moved. You decided you noticed those things because of how long you've been friends with him.

You realized you always watched for his reaction first before seeing the others' after you said something funny, but you told yourself it was only because you valued his opinion the most.

You tried taking note of his flaws in hopes that it would get rid of whatever those feelings were. His hands were always clammy, his backpack was so big that you weren't sure how he didn't topple over when it was on his back, and sometimes he'd spit a little when he talked a lot. (For some reason, those things didn't push you away like you wanted.)

You felt a kick from under the table, bringing you back to the cafeteria. You looked up to be met with Michelle's glare, who signaled you to check your phone. Reaching into your pocket, you took your phone out and looked at the screen under the table.

Michael Jackson: if u keep staring at peter then he might actually notice for once

You gave MJ a look, who was the one who sent the text, and put your phone away. You didn't realize you'd been mindlessly eating until you felt full. You slid your food to Peter, who began eating the rest of it without second thought. (He always ate his lunch first then whatever you couldn't finish as well.) Routine.

Before you could actively participate in the conversation, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.

The four of you rose from the long table, gathering your trash to throw it away. You slouched over to grab your bag from where you put it.

"Here ya go," Peter said from behind.

You turned around to see him holding up your backpack for you.

"Oh, thanks," you smiled, swinging the backpack over your shoulders.

He returned the smile. "You going to your locker?"

"Like always, Pete."

"Alright," he slowly backed away. "See you in five?"

You nodded and began walking the other direction, where your locker was. Michelle followed Peter to the band room while Ned decided to accompany you on your short walk.

"Soooo, Y/N," he said suggestively. "That dance is coming up."

You groaned. "I thought the four of us were just going to sleep over at MJ's that night?"

You stopped in front of your locker, opening it to grab a textbook for one of your classes later in the day. You grabbed one of Peter's hoodies that he left in there, knowing it would be cold in the band room. (You had a locker in one side of the school while Peter had his own in the other side. You both agreed to share both, merely for convenience and nothing more.) Ned leaned on the locker next to yours, facing you.

He fiddled with his backpack straps. "You know how the school's making it a 'girls ask guys' kind of thing? Well, Michelle was thinking that maybe we should go! Like, she'll ask me and you can ask Peter—"

You raised a pointed finger at your friend. "I see what you're doing now," you accused him. You shut the locker and began walking towards the band room with Ned beside you. "I don't condone meddling, Leeds."

"But Y/N!" he said excitedly. "MJ and I know that you two like each other. You know that Peter likes you. He knows that you like him. You know that he knows that you like him. He knows that you know that he likes you. It's a win-win!"

You sighed. "You're making it sound more complicated than it actually is."

The two of you made it to the band room and Ned opened the door for both of you to walk in. You both headed to retrieve your instruments, with other students swarming by.

"You're making it actually complicated! Look, Y/N. I'm not supposed to tell you this, but," he lowered his voice, "if you don't ask Peter to the dance, then he's gonna ask you."

You froze, holding your instrument case in the air. "What?" You regained yourself and set the case down, facing Ned. "No, Ned. No. Listen. I'll tell you what I told Michelle, okay? I just want to be Peter's friend—"

"But you like him!"

"But I don't want to do anything about it. It's just a crush—it'll pass. I treasure our friendship more than having a crush that won't last forever."

Ned raised and dropped his arms exasperatedly, giving up.

Michelle popped up, seeming chipper than usual. "Hey guys, we're practicing for contest today," she said. "What're you talking about?"

"It's not gonna happen, MJ," Ned sighed. He grabbed his instrument and trudged away, leaving you two alone since the rest of the students seem to have gone in their respective practice rooms already.

Michelle put her hands on her hips and stared at you, her attitude changing back to normal. "Why not, Y/N? Are you scared or something?"

You sighed. You turned around and headed the same direction Ned went, with MJ following closely behind. "No, I'm not scared. Can you guys please stop meddling? I just don't want anything to happen, and that's it."

The two of you stopped in front of your designated practice room, the door closed. You peeked through the small window in the door, seeing the boys were already in there, oblivious to you and MJ on the other side.

"Why not?" Michelle asked. "You'll regret not ever knowing what could have been—"

"No, that's the thing," you interjected. You were tired of hearing these talks about Peter, and it was beginning to show. "I know that I won't regret it. I can daydream about 'could-have-beens' with Peter all my life, and I'll be fine with that. I don't want to lose him, and if that means that I can't be with him romantically, then that's what I'm gonna do. Having a crush is always temporary, Michelle. Peter's the kind of person that I want permanently in my life. Do you know what I mean now?"

She stared at you with a hint of sadness in her eyes, like she could see right through your words. See what, you weren't sure. After a skeptical moment, she took a breath, surrendering. "Alright, fine. I'll let him know that."

You took a breath of relief. "Thank you."

Michelle turned to open the door to the practice room, Ned and Peter welcoming the two of you in.

-

The practice room was small with the four of you and your instruments in it, meaning you'd be in close quarters with them—Peter specifically.

It was easy to pretend your feelings for Peter weren't there. It was easy to act like yourself despite the elephant in the room. Before the complications, you and Peter were glued together, so why treat him differently now?

Maybe you noticed him noticing you, watching your moves when you pretended you couldn't see where his line of sight was directed. Maybe you took note of him flinching back whenever you accidentally brushed against him, and how the sweat from his palms were more prominent on his instrument.

But it was easier to ignore those things, which is what made it easier for you to act like it never happened in the first place.

Sophomore Year

You weren't usually one to gloat, but damn it you were right about the situation with Peter and you told yourself that you should be happy about it.

Crushes were always temporary. Friendship could last forever.

Could.

Michelle and Ned eventually stopped bringing it up freshman year, and you figured Peter eventually stopped liking you as well.

The whole ordeal wasn't something any of you talked about, an unsaid truth never to be spoken. You refused to even think about those weird few months and how you felt during that time. You told yourself that having a mutual crush on your best friend wasn't something to think about.

You were just glad that you weren't the center of Peter's attention anymore. You knew this was true, mainly because his attention drifted to Liz Allen. The intelligent, breathtaking, lucky girl: Liz Allen.

Besides Peter's obvious crush on her, nothing changed.

"If you three weren't my only friends at this school," MJ said, "I'd stop eating lunch with you guys."

You followed her out of the lunch line after paying, just like the normal routine since last year. The two of you began walking across the cafeteria and towards the same table you've always sat at, with Ned and Peter already there. (The only difference nowadays was Peter sat next to Ned, and you and MJ sat across from them, so Peter could helplessly drool over Liz across the lunch room.)

You chuckled. "Me too, I think. . . It's because of Peter, huh?"

She groaned. "Duh. All he does is gush about her."

You laughed as you sat down next to Michelle, having finally made it to the table. Before even being able to look at your food, Peter began talking.

"She straightened her hair today, guys! She looks so different but still. . . so good."

Ned followed where Peter's eyes were, seeing it was true. Michelle faked a gag, which only you noticed.

The two of you ate your food in silence, which was something different compared to before Liz came in the picture. Peter also stopped bringing you fruit snacks and eating the food that you couldn't finish, as well as denying to take chocolate milk and apple sauce from you.

Sometimes you'd catch yourself missing those little things, but you told yourself it was only because of the change in what used to be normal. Before, normal was getting squished next to Peter and enjoying it, oddly realizing the days he switched between his cologne, and endless banter between the four of you. Now, normal was having to think of what to say to strike a conversation with him, rolling your eyes at his comments on Liz, and being vaguely aware of the few times he looked your way.

You would find yourself hurting, and you'd have to correct your thoughts and say it was only missing the past. There was no use in feeling sorry for yourself, though. Things happen, feelings change, and that was that. You were still friends with Peter in one way or another, and that's what you wanted, so clearly you had to be happy about things going your way.

"You guys are losers," Michelle told the boys, who were still fawning over the senior girl in the cafeteria.

Peter didn't seem to hear her, (he didn't seem to hear anything you and MJ said, nowadays), but Ned shrugged. "You're still friends with us," he replied.

That was true. You were still friends and that's what mattered. It was weird having to remind yourself of that fact, but it was still that: a fact.

"Hey, Y/N?" Peter spoke out of nowhere.

His voice fazed you. It was odd hearing him say your name now, especially after realizing he used to say it almost as often as he breathed.

"You know about girls, right?"

You and Michelle shared a glance, knowing where this was headed.

"I mean, I am a girl, so yeah," you said. You looked at him, but his eyes never seemed to have left the special girl seated somewhere behind you. You paid no mind to it, your eyes going over how his head was dreamily rested on his hand.

"Okay, so," he began. "Hypothetically speaking. . . If you're a senior, would you date a guy that's a sophomore?"

You rolled your eyes, but decided to mess with Peter. "Well, what's the guy like?"

Michelle snorted.

"He's, uhm. . . He's pretty smart. Really nice, I think—"

"He's a cutie!" Ned chimed in.

You shrugged. "Well, if that's all he has going for him. . ."

"No!" Peter retaliated. "He's really cool, and uh, thinks you're pretty! Yeah, you're pretty."

You felt your face heat up and you were glad that none of your friends were looking at you for once.

-

You were warned that the people you walk into high school with would never be the people you'd walk out of high school with. People grew apart and that was life, apparently. You didn't think those warnings would actually apply to you, though. You thought the four of you were too strong together to separate.

By the time sophomore year was halfway done, you were proved dearly wrong.

You thought Liz would be the only strain on your friendship with Peter, but his behavior drastically changed out of nowhere then suddenly he got an internship with Stark Enterprises. Peter was one of the smartest people you ever met, so you weren't surprised. If anything, the real surprise was he not only quit the only class he had with you—which was music—but he stopped even trying to talk to you.

You and Michelle decided to stop sitting with Peter and Ned during lunch.

"There he goes again," Michelle pointed.

You followed her gaze and saw that Peter was fawning over Liz again, which was weird considering he rarely showed up during lunch anymore.

It hurt. You knew that now. Missing Peter wasn't something you'd expect to feel, but lately? It's all you've felt.

You didn't have to miss MJ or Ned, because you still saw them and talked to them regularly. It was only Peter. Always Peter freaking Parker.

Maybe you took him for granted. You'd never thought that there'd come a day that you'd stop sharing food, sharing classes, sharing a conversation.

"No point in regretting it," you said aloud.

It was more for yourself than to Michelle. You made your decision on who Peter was to you, so it would only be a waste of time in wondering who he could have been.

Junior Year

Something changed sophomore year. Ned told you that Peter ditched the academic decathlon which resulted in him getting detention. That was something you never expected to hear, considering Peter was the perfect example of Midtown High's star student.

The beginning of junior year, you saw him in music. He stayed this time.

He seemed to be taking advantage of "conveniently" getting the same class like before. He made a point to talk to you again—during class and lunch—and it was like he never ditched you and MJ.

"Oh my God," you rolled your eyes. You aggressively turned your body to face Peter who sat beside you. "You just want to win! You're not even right!"

He looked at Ned and MJ sat in front of you two for help, but they only stared back with clear amusement. (The four of you assumed your usual seats from freshman year, so you would always get squished against Peter's side at lunch again.)

"It doesn't matter if I'm right!" he exclaimed with big hand gestures. "A debate is a debate! You could be right—I'm not saying you are—but I'm just better at debating than you."

Ned did a terrible job at hiding his laughter from the argument you were having with Peter.

This was something that you were happy you had the chance of getting used to again—not that you'd ever tell Peter that. As soon as the school year began and all of you sat together, not so playful yelling was all that accompanied the lunch table.

The dorky boy loved proving himself right, and you loved proving people wrong. As soon as the second week of sharing lunch in the cafeteria passed by, it would have been weird not to bicker with him like before.

Michelle slammed her book closed, startling the three of you to silence. "Look," she said, giving you and Peter a death glare. "Y/N, Peter has some good points—all only technical, but still good."

Peter thanked her and you huffed, upset MJ wasn't on your side.

"Shut up, Peter," she said. "Peter, Y/N's still right, and you're just gross."

"Ha!" you yelled, then rose from the table's bench and reached over to high-five Ned. (You were sure he'd side with either of you, but it was the thought that counts.)

Peter scoffed. "It's not that gross," he said, refusing to take Michelle's answer. "If you were on a deserted island with a bag of frozen chicken nuggets and no microwave, it would still be safe to eat them—"

"The directions say to microwave them for a reason, Peter!" you interrupted.

"It's already cooked!" he brought up, which was something he pointed out earlier in the conversation. "It's cooked before it's frozen, then you can just warm it up in the microwave—but that doesn't mean you have to—"

"Y'know what, fine," you said, slamming your hands down on top of the lunch table. "You can eat frozen chicken nuggets all you want, Peter. But I am going to warm mine up in the microwave like everybody else. And if you get some weird disease, don't come crying to me because I was right—"

"I won't come crying back to you! Because I'm still right!"

The bell rang, signaling the end of your lunch before you could put another word in. The four of you immediately rose, with MJ and Ned heading straight to the band room.

You reached down for your backpack, only not to find it where you left it. Turning around, Peter held it in the air for you to shrug on. Just like before.

The two of you silently walked side by side to your locker so you could switch out textbooks and get one of Peter's sweaters that he always "forgot" in there.

"How's that one guy doing?" Peter asked, one hand in his jean pocket with the other gripping his backpack strap.

You shrugged, opening your locker. He leaned against the locker next to yours, staring you down with his usual grin.

You'd be damned if you didn't say puberty was doing Parker well. You wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't ditched you last school year, but he definitely got. . . toned, to say the least. He also learned how to use hair gel and walked around school with clothes that seemed to make him more confident.

You cleared the thoughts away. Those things were only noticeable because you were friends with him. Obviously.

"You mean Carlos?" you replied. You reached into the locker and sorted out what you needed to.

Peter nodded then grabbed the textbooks you had in your arms. You shut the locker and the two of you began your walk to the band room.

"I'm pretty sure he was flirting with me, which was nice," you told your friend. "But he stopped talking to me out of nowhere and hasn't even opened my messages since."

He scrunched his eyebrows. "Here, lemme see the messages."

Before you could reach in your back pocket for your phone, Peter beat you to it with his free hand. He unlocked it and went to the messages. While reading it, he chuckled.

"Seriously, Y/N?" he said, amused. "That's why he stopped replying! You called him 'dude!'"

You gave him a shocked look. "So what? I call everyone dude."

Making it to the band room, you opened the door and followed Peter in. He spoke while the two of you set down your belongings. "You friend-zoned him."

You scoffed. "I did not!"

He gave you a look. "Y/N. I've been friend-zoned enough times to know when somebody else is getting friend-zoned."

You rolled your eyes and turned around to get yours and Peter's instruments, but something felt off about what he said. You didn't really care about talking to Carlos, but what Peter said felt like it was partially directed to you. You didn't blame him, because you technically did friend-zone him. . . but that was two years ago! Clearly he let it go by now, because you definitely did.

Senior Year

You and Michelle stumbled inside her home, waving a goodbye to Peter—who dropped you two off—before shutting the front door.

"Dude," you turned to her. She looked at you with glazed eyes, but was still able to keep her focus. You continued, "I am so gone."

Both of you giggled, leaning on each other to take off your shoes and put aside your bags. MJ led you to a couch, retrieved water from the kitchen, then sat next to you. She chugged the water down with a hand clearly steadier than yours. "What do you mean?" she asked. Her eyes were bloodshot and droopy, but she looked put together for the most part.

You shrugged lazily, taking a sip of your water. "You've seen me smoke," you said to her. "I've been. . . chill, buzzed, whatever. But right now? I am high." Laughter interrupted whatever you could have said next, though you weren't sure if you had anything to say.

She laughed with you, still clearly having a good time despite being more sober. "Really?"

"Yeah," you nodded. "Like," you looked around the room, searching for the right set of words. "I haven't been this high in a while. . . Like, you've never seen me this gone."

"Ooh," she rubbed her hands together comically. "I'm excited."

You rubbed your eye, forgetting the makeup you had on. "Why?"

"Because!" she chirped up. "You know what they say? Drunk words are sober thoughts. Well, high words too, maybe."

You shook your head with a smile before drinking more water. You didn't mind letting loose with Michelle; you trusted her, which was why you smoked as much as you did in the first place. You were comfortable enough to allow her to see this side of you, even if there was the chance you might not remember any of it in the morning.

You helped each other up the stairs, having decided you should at least take off your makeup and change your clothes. (Thank God her parents weren't coming home that night.) By the time you both finished, you were seated comfortably on the couch once again, this time underneath one large blanket and with the television playing late night cartoons in front of you. A single lamp as well as the TV were your only light sources, which kept the living room in a dim glow.

"Can I be honest?" you spoke over the cartoons, startling Michelle. Neither of you were sobering up at all, but that fact didn't stop anything.

She nodded and turned off the TV. MJ turned to completely face you, giving you her attention. "Yeah," she said. "What's up?"

You began rambling without hesitation. "You know how Peter was at the game? Well, of course he was. He had to be because the band was playing for the football team and he's in band. . . But anyways, I didn't talk to him at all—he always seemed busy with somebody else—but I couldn't stop. . . I don't know. I caught myself looking for him a lot, like, to see if he moved around the bleachers or something."

Michelle nodded, allowing you to continue.

"Okay, well. . . I don't know, dude," you continued. "You remember how we had crushes on each other freshman year? Well—I don't think I have a crush on him, I swear—but I feel something. . . It's weird. He's one of my best friends but I know there's something stronger there."

She looked around the room thoughtfully, searching for a reply. "What do you feel?"

It was hard to think clearly and how to explain yourself; the only word that stayed in your head the entire time was his name. Peter, Peter, Peter.

You began rambling. As soon as the words left your mouth, you instantly forgot what they were, but that didn't stop you from talking. "Michelle, it's so weird. I've never really told you this but, remember when he had a crush on Liz? And when he ditched us for a while after that? I—I think I missed him. And not just as a friend. You know what, I don't know."

Peter, Peter, Peter.

You shook your hands in the air as if you could shoo your thoughts away.

You continued. "I care about him as a friend and stuff, but I don't think how I've felt about him is how I feel about other people, like you or Ned. It's different. Like, I don't want to lose him. I don't want him out of my life."

Peter, Peter, Peter.

You sighed. "When he was gone for the whole Stark Internship thing, it felt like I really lost someone. I mean, I don't have to talk to you or Ned for days—weeks, even—and I'll be fine. But when the same thing happened with Peter? I would feel so. . . lost."

Michelle nodded, staying attentive the entire time. There was a part of you that knew she wasn't high enough to forget any of this, though you were sure you wouldn't remember much.

"What do you want me to say?" she asked.

You shrugged, looking down at your hands. Peter, Peter. "What does it sound like to you? I don't know what I'm feeling is called, but it's definitely not just a friendly thing."

She stared at you for a moment, contemplating what to do next. "I'm not sure if this has anything to do with you two," she began, "but I think you should know. . . You know how you'd leave during lunch sometimes to go to the bathroom?"

You nodded, recalling the multiple occasions.

"Well," she continued. "Ned and I talked about it, and we noticed that Peter's not the same when you're gone, either. Like, he'd look so bored and would play games on his phone compared to when you're at the table and he'd never stop talking."

You imagined him doing so. "Huh."

"Yeah. . ." she said. "Let's just go to sleep, okay? Sleep on it, and I'll remind you whatever you forgot you said in the morning, alright? Then we can figure out what to do."

As soon as MJ said the word "sleep," you instantly realized how heavy your eyelids felt. You nodded at her proposal, and laid yourself down on the couch with her.

You weren't sure if your eyes were closed or if it was just that dark in the living room, but you were definitely thinking. You imagined the feeling of being brushed against Peter's body, whenever you sat next to each other or walked side by side in the school halls. He started driving recently, and for some reason you always got shotgun while MJ and Ned didn't hesitate to sit in the back. You could nearly feel your elbows touching when you both leaned on the console at the same time. You remembered the times he'd laugh around you, uncaring about how loud it might've been, as well as the fact that he said your name more times in one day than anybody else did in a whole month.

His absence sophomore year definitely put a strain on you. You loved Michelle and Ned to bits, but you were pretty sure you might've loved Peter in a different way.

Him being out of your life for that period of time was confusing but, at the same time, clearer than looking through a window. You managed to keep tabs on him even if it meant only scrolling through his Instagram or seeing how he'd hold himself across the hall. You knew then that you cared about that boy more than you ever cared for anyone else.

You were terrified of you two becoming more than friends because that meant you had a chance of it ending badly and never talking to him again. Staying friends meant staying safe.

It meant that you had more of a chance of him being with you, which is what you knew you always wanted. You knew you'd be happy, crush or not, as long as Peter was in your life the rest of the way.

Is that what it feels like to love?

-

You nervously rubbed your hands together, which gained odd looks from other students due to the warm New York weather. It was a few months after that fated night with Michelle, the day of the senior field trip. The entire senior class got to go into the city and do whatever they wanted for an entire school day.

Michelle coolly stood beside you, her hands in both her jacket pockets. "I'm excited," she admitted.

You squinted at her. "For what?"

An uncharacteristic smile broke her face. "You know! You're finally gonna confess your feelings to Parker. It's about time, honestly. Ned and I were beginning to think about calling off our deal we started freshman year—"

"Hey guys!" a voice chimed in from afar.

You gave MJ a look to stop talking about the subject, watching Ned and Peter walking towards you two.

"I am so excited," Ned said. You caught him giving Michelle a wink, which told you that she informed him of the "plan."

You would've groaned if Peter weren't standing right next to you.

"Me too!" Peter said obliviously. "I really want to check out that new pop culture museum."

A teacher announced for everyone to gather up and get inside the bus. The four of you sat in the back together, you and MJ sharing one seat while Peter and Ned were seated right in front of you.

"I'm scared of getting lost, honestly," Ned confessed a bit after the bus began moving.

Peter huffed his chest. "Don't worry, man! The internship," he winked at the three of you, "really let me get to know the city, so I'll know everywhere we go."

You and MJ rolled your eyes together. Peter had shared his secret about being Spider-Man with the two of you not too long after he got his license, only because his "spider senses were tingling" right before avoiding a crash.

"By 'everywhere' do you mean all the port-a-potty's?" you teased him.

Peter made a face. "That was one time! Ya use the bathroom once and that's when the paparazzi show up," he whispered to himself.

-

You were nervous for nearly the entire day due to the anticipation of confessing to Peter. It was hard figuring out when and where to do so; should you make a big deal out of it like one big crush proposal or just bring it up out of nowhere as if it were the most normal thing to say?

Decisions, decisions.

The four of you were inside the new Museum of Pop Culture, wandering around aimlessly with offhand remarks for everything in the exhibits.

"Guys," Ned said. He walked beside Michelle while you and Peter were behind. "The horror exhibit actually looks pretty scary."

You peeked through the glass doors, the exhibit on the other side. All you could see was red glowing from the ceiling, which did make Ned seem correct.

"Never fear," Peter whispered to the three of you. "Spider-Man is here."

Your group walked through the doors, instantly being met by speakers blasting screams and haunting music. The red lights from above were your only source of light, leading the way deeper into the exhibit.

"Oh," MJ said softly. "Y/N, don't look up."

Not many things scared you, but you knew that Michelle was well aware of what did.

Trusting her, you instinctively gripped onto Peter's upper arm and watched your feet move on the ground. You noticed he instantly tensed at the contact, his bicep tougher with your fingers barely able to wrap around it.

"It's alright, Y/N," Peter said, looking up to see what MJ was talking about. "It's not even that ba—ohmygod we're not walking that way."

He redirected you to the left after the exhibit opened up into a large room. You heard Ned and Michelle chuckle at Peter, who allowed the two of you to move in front of them.

"Dude," you heard Ned from behind. "It's just a bunch of hanging bodies wrapped like. . . mummies?"

Knowing you were well past whatever MJ told you not to look at, you raised your head and took in your surroundings.

"Oh," you said. "It's not that bad."

You looked to the right side of the room where Peter made a point not to cross and saw what Ned was talking about. You laughed, letting go of Peter's arm. "You call yourself Spider-Man? It's not even that scary."

All of you stopped and stood with one of the walls behind you, scoping out the exhibit.

"That's the one thing I don't like!" Peter complained.

Michelle walked over to the small area of fake bodies hanging from the ceiling, all of them covered with cloth and net. She poked it.

"It's fake, you dork," she said.

You and Ned followed her and saw the bodies made a maze, leading to an explanation on what movie that section was about. The three of you taunted Peter, walking into the maze.

The brunette puffed his chest. "Yeah, whatever."

He was last to go inside, the rest of you well ahead. There was a line of bodies between you and him, so you pushed the one closest to him.

Peter screeched.

"One thing!" he screamed. "That is the one single thing! I hate you guys!"

The rest of you broke out into laughter.

-

You were all seated in a McDonald's booth, leisurely eating your shared meals. You had assumed the same seating as you always did for lunch at Midtown.

You felt a kick from under the table. Looking up, Michelle gave you a pointed look.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," she announced.

She scooted out of the booth and stood up.

"Oh yeah, me too." Ned said.

The two of them walked towards the back of the fast food restaurant.

So this was it.

How the hell were you going to do it? You didn't even know if Peter had any feelings more than platonic for you. What if all he felt was platonic? You would make things awkward, ruin your friendship, waste all that time for the past four years being one of his best friends for something non-mutual.

You could hear your heart beating through your eardrums. Your hand shook a little every time you raised a fry to your mouth.

You were terrified. You weren't sure if confessing would even be worth it. In a few months, high school would be over. You'd have no good reason to see any of your friends everyday again, nonetheless Peter by himself.

Maybe you've just been overthinking everything. It wouldn't have been hard to believe that your feelings came only from convenience of going to the same school, having the same class, eating at the same table.

You cared for him, but maybe that was all there was. It could just be an unconditional love, like loving a brother.

You shook your head at yourself. That wasn't it; you definitely did not think of Peter as a brother. Even a little graze against him made your senses go wild. Every time you had eye contact with him, you'd force yourself not to look away despite thinking he'd always have been able to look straight into your soul and know what you felt.

You always knew what he would say if he saw you do something stupid, and you were always excited to hear what he'd think about something that happened to you when he wasn't there. You'd be able to recognize his laugh a mile away, and being the cause of his smile made you feel light.

You knew he'd tell you the truth on which shirt looked better with which jeans and not just say you looked good no matter what. He'd make sure to take stray lint out of your hair and point out if you had something in your teeth.

You've had short crushes on other people, and you even dated some of them for an amount of time. They never made you feel the same way Peter did.

You remembered the feelings you had when you found out he went to homecoming with Liz Allen sophomore year. When you learned of his crush on her, it was a dull ache. But when you even saw them at the dance together? It pierced.

But you were still able to get back to the groove of your feelings after that.

Yeah, you might've been in love with Peter Parker. What took you four years to realize that?

"Hey, Y/N?"

Your head jerked up and you looked at him beside you. God, what were you going to do? Could you bring yourself to say it?

Shut up,you thought to yourself. Eventually, it'll be too late. Say it now.

Peter continued talking after you stayed silent.

"I know this is really out of the blue," he said. He put down the burger in his hands and faced you completely. "But I just want to say thank you for everything. We're gonna be graduating pretty soon and. . . I don't know. I just really appreciate you—and MJ and Ned—for sticking around."

You nodded your head, urging him to continue, nervous to hear what he had to say next.

"Things were really weird after I got bit by the spider and I still feel like shit for ditching you guys for a while. . . But thanks for letting me come back. I couldn't have ever imagined getting better people in my life than you three. Even if we go across the country for college or something, I really hope we can all stay friends. I love you guys, you know."

Oh.

You smiled at him like he did to you. Friends.

You cleared your throat. "I love you too, Pete."

[peachiejihoonie]

park woojin - demigod!au; hermes

when he was younger, he was a master at pick pocketing 

in middle school, he wouldn’t stand up for kid being bullied but rather go to the bully and pick pocket back the lunch money 

he wouldn’t really hand back to them, he’d just put it on their desk, underneath their pencil bag or inside it

constantly transferred schools too, which meant constant new encounters, and he hated it 

he was sick of change, he just wanted something permanent

one friend, one home, one school, one setting 

he was always alone since he just kept leaving 

so when he made it to camp half blood, he was shook 

he wasn’t used to the atmosphere but he was immediately claimed by hermes 

he was quickly engulfed by a crowd, his siblings and they were are all so jolly, happy, snarky but also welcoming 

at first he was really reserved and shy but when head counselor taehyun introduced him to everyone, he was overjoyed 

overtime he came out his shell 

he was the master mind of plastic wrapping all the chariots together

is known for being very mischievous and silly 

very bro

is the type to blame it on someone else 

works half of time cause he’s good at playing innocent

“woojin it was you wasn’t it”

“what? me? why would i ever? no way!!!”

honestly, he does it for shits and giggles and never has intentions to ever hurt or anger someone

he’s really good at hand to hand combat (aka flipping people) 

he carries around a simple celestial bronze knife but rarely uses it 

is really talented 

raps and dances he’s pretty cool my dude

the apollo cabin doesn’t really see him as all that talented though they’re to busy thinking they’re better than everyone else 

you on the other hand, were constantly getting kicked out of schools because of your “problematic” behavior

it wasn’t your fault that people always listened to whatever you said

even if you had asked to cut in lines, get a’s or to skip class, it’s their fault for listening to you

at camp half blood, you were known to be quite fiery 

it was hard for anyone to believe you were an aphrodite child honestly 

you stand for what u believe in, you’re straight forward, and you have no problem with casting permanent make up on anyone 

one time, at the dining hall, someone tried to mess with your sibling’s food by placing a magnetic force around it so the food can never sit on the plate 

you immediately flung around to the giggling hermes cabin 

and this time woojin was out of the loop he doesn’t commit such petty pranks uhm hello??

“okay who did it?” you glared at all of them, honestly this happens everyday and normally you’d ignore it but honestly it was gettin out of hand 

“WOOJIN!” a hermes cabin kid screamed 

and everyone snickered 

he’s just there with a piece of bread of his mouth, puppy dog eyes, lost, looking up you 

“huh?” 

and you glared at the one who yelled his name and you casted the permanent make up on him and everyone else who laughed got ugly outfits with neon colors 

and all the other tables are doing obnoxious ‘OOoooOOOOoooooOOOOOOOooooooOOoOOH shiTTTTTT”  

the hermes kids now think you have a bratty princess attitude

but did you care????????

no 

and the next time woojin sees you, he kinda wavers around you, and you don’t recognize him at first

as you’re setting up your weapons for capture the flag (i love ctp okay im sorry if your’e sick of it omg) he just opens his mouth 

“sorry about my brothers and sisters yesterday…” 

at first you were like ??? oooOOOOHHH 

“hahahahHAHAHA no its no probleM!!” 

are you nervous ?? is he that cute ?? is it just me omg

he’s a little flustered, mainly cause he just feels bad 

may or may not have avoided playing pranks on you or just the entire aphordite cabin tbh 

he was gonna say something again but chiron calls for the teams to shake hands and you two are on different teams 

and so you had the found the flag, but your back up was taking forever

no one was on guard though, and the flag was just out and exposed in the creek

you wanted to go for it, seriously, your blood was chasing through your veins, it was getting hard to hold your back you impulsiveness. 

and suddenly there was cheering behind you 

and when you walked out of your hiding spot, you saw woojin being thrown in the air,

your team flag in his hand 

and you were chill, i mean it wasn’t the first time you lost

but what really bugged you was when hermes cabin wouldn’t stop reminding you 

this happened almost every time you lose 

and when you’re in greek history class, they were just at and you were trying so hard not to explode 

and just when you’re about to, woojin clears his through

“hyungs, please shut the fuck up, i’m trying to read here” 

everyone is shooketh

cause he isn’t that straight forward and he’s normally a witness rather an unpstander 

after class you thank him and he just shrugs it off like no big deal 

inside he’s all squishy and warm cause aw you thanked him ?? you thank people ??? 

and you’re blushy because aw he cared ?? 

and tbh you guys stay in this weird phase for a while 

very small talk, short glances

but nothing more

it was awkward for the both of you 

it was the first time to feel this warm in the inside 

you both knew there was something more there

there’s no way you two are just friends 

ya’ll both squishes for each other 

but you’re both convinced otherwise 

all of woojin’s siblings tell him to not for fall an aphordite kid 

they tried to convince him that he was just falling for your stupid but blessed love charms and looks

“they’re all heart breakers !! don’t know you know about their little game” 

yea, your cabin loved doing this point system thing 

each time they “won” a person, a point 

and whoever got the least amount of points got the shoes of shame 

you H A T E D it 

you’re cabin was trying to explain to you that you weren’t falling for some “disgusting, annoying dumb, hermes kid”

“no way !!! you have to date one of the hot apollo kids, or the ares kids, but cMON, not a hermes kid. don’t be silly!”

and it just makes you want woojin more

he started getting bolder though 

but hes still shy 

your little talks became conversations, you glances became eye contact 

then the conversations would last through the lunches and he would even walk you to your next activity or back to the cabin 

his eyes not only lingered but he would also flash his cute little canine at you or even make silly faces when chiron is teaching 

and you were complaining about your cabin with him one day during your shared free hour together 

“i just don’t understand them at times, i really don’t think i fit in that cabin a at all” 

“well i think you do”

you’re laughing as you look over at him but he aint laughin

“i think you fit in that cabin perfectly. you’re really genuine, kind to everyone but you’re definitely not a push over. you know that the inside personality is what is important, not the outside. everyone thinks that you’re just being mean, but i think it’s because you base your attitude on personality.” 

and at first his explanation doesn’t make sense

he thought he was being weird and he freaks out 

“oh my go-god,i-uh- i ig-ignore what i just said hah ha ha hahahah” he would utter out, redfaced and looking away 

“no please explain what you mean woojin” and you place your hand on his shoulder

“i-it’s just like how your siblings are with looks! not to say that they’re aLL vain!! i-i i mean li-like if they’re ‘ugly’ they would kin-kinda isolate them ya know?? and when they’re pretty they date them. you’re kinda the same, but with per-personality.”

you’re speechless and his eyes are glued to the grass 

“y-you just share beauty in a different way, that’s all, and i like that, a lot” he chuckles as he palms his neck nervously 

“t-thanks” you mumbled out and he’s grinning to himself cause you’re so cute

and the feelings are just floating in the air 

since he’s all shy and awkward and doesn’t know what to do

“i like you too” you smiled back 

and yall slowly and slowly become more comfortable 

you like watching him pick out the food you don’t like in your pasta

honestly he’s the cutest when he eats

his checks are puffed out and you can see the way he’s chewing and he’s just fluffy omg 

and he would catch you staring and have his confused mouse face 

how could you not want to feed him at that point 

but slowly he would start getting flirtier and flirtier 

he would run up to you and wrap his arms from behind 

omg imagine his cabin is so surprised and they cannot believe he swooped an aphordite child 

“brurhruhrhruhr you hella scored omg hooow???” 

“well i mean, i just told them i liked them ?? and they happened to like me back ??” and he’s blushing, lookin down and a small grin on his face

they all watch you both in amazed 

like you guys are laughing and smiling, arms linked, walking towards the mess hall and they’re just watching all wide eyed and jaws dropped 

“that’s so unfair” they’d all pout 

he secretly enjoys them being jealous

imagine him look all aggressive and hot while playing capture the flag 

you can’t even play properly ???? how can you function ???? 

like you’re suppose to be his back up but you’re so distracted 

you’re teammates know to never put you guys in the same team/group ever again

but he doesn’t realize you’re distracted by him,

he’s all sweaty and puppy like comin to you 

“babe are you sick ?? are you tired ??? you don’t look okay ..” 

“nO woojin i’m fine hahahha!!! don’t worry !!!” awkward laughter 

“ookay..” is still slightly worried 

the next day he comes by with cookies and he’s such a nervous mess cause omg your sibling opened the door 

ya’ll exposed af, all you’re siblings are watching the gesture 

and you slam the door on their face LOL 

“woojin what are you doing ??” 

“i was just worried, and i knew you liked jinyoung’s cookies so i got some for you cause you didn’t look well yesterday” and he’s all flustered 

one hand in the pocket, the other palming the back of his neck nervously 

he’s such a pup omg help the cutie out 

but all you could do is stutter a thanks out

your siblings on the other side are just giggling

jihoon, your half brother thinks you two are disgusting 

especially cause 2park is lyfe and you don’t in 2park

but overall, he’s very sweet and loving 

he maybe shy at times even though he’s wild with his siblings 

it’s just cause you make him nervous

you guys prove stereotypes wrong and people lOVE it 

i’m so sorry this took so long lmao, thanks 4 waiting  !!! esp the anon who asked for woojin a long long time ago

[theclosetpoet7]

Akai Ito

Summary: He supposes that nothing will ever change the red string of fate no matter how many times he is reincarnated. He’ll always have a monster inside him. Itachi dies a hero. And Sasuke and Sakura are always meant to be together.

Rating: T

“An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but it will never break.” - Chinese Proverb

Chapter One

In Tokyo

The first time it happens, it takes him five years to realize that he isn’t in some alternate dimension that Uchiha Sasuke can gain access to. Or perhaps it was, but not one the Rinnegan wielder can open. Besides, his best friend had died five years before this happened.

When he opens his eyes, he realizes that they are too weak, and everything he sees is all blurry. And it doesn’t take him one second to discover that he has somehow soiled his pants. When he shouts in exclamation, it astonishes him even more when no words come out of his mouth. Instead, quiet whimpers and then a full blown burst of tears comes out. It is then when he realizes that he is wailing like a newborn babe.

“Shhh, Naruto-chan, let Mama take care of you.”

Somehow, his anxiety is alleviated when a woman, with long straight red locks takes him into her arms and cuddles him until his cries subside into quiet hiccups.

‘Kaa-san.’

He knows this person.

Had given her one last hug before she disappeared into bright streams of fairy lights. But not without tell him.

“I love you.”

He coos.

“My sweet, sweet baby boy.”

And his consciousness fades into nothingness.

It isn’t until his seventh birthday when he finally understands that he is in another life. Another life where ninjas were somehow a thing of centuries past. A life where he isn’t hokage. A life where all he needs to worry about was getting wet from the rain as he kicks a ball to reach a goal, a life where he gets scolded for eating too much ramen or candy during something called “Valentines Day”. A life where his parents are alive, and even though he is grateful for that, everything seems mundane and boring because for some reason, he can’t form a single kage bunshin.

.

.

.

It turns around when he meets Uchiha Sasuke and Haruno Sakura for the first time.

______________

He can’t find Hinata.

He can’t find his wife.

That’s something he worries about all the time. Because in his mind, this world is too big. Sure Konoha had trains when he was hokage. And when Uchiha Sarada had taken over after Konohamaru’s reign, he had read about a research on building a ship that can sail beyond the skies. Nothing surprised him anymore, when he was eighteen, he had gone to a place similar to what his successor had described: endless black, the lack of what they had called gravity, and billions of possibilities.

Sasuke had become a pioneer of doing more research on it, with Sakura by his side, until she passed, exactly a year before his bestfriend’s death.

He shakes his head to forget about the painful memories.

About his other life.

He takes a deep breath.

“Whoa, that seemed serious, is something bothering you?”

The young blonde slumps in his seat.

“Dobe.”

“Dobe.”

A soft knuckle makes contact with the top of his head.

“Is everything okay Naruto?”

Her green eyes look worried, and the fact that the emotion she shows is so genuine and so lovely that it makes his heart flutter a little. Sakura-chan will always be beautiful in his opinion, though still brawny, and aggressive when it came down to it. He shyly notes the tiny preview of her cleavage as she leans over his table, and the shiny pink of her lips as she chews on it while she waits for his reply.

He had apparently been staring at his window for too long when the school bell signaled dismissal time.

His two bestfriends are gathered around his table with concern in their eyes.

Sasuke is wearing a blue sweater over his uniform today, with a dark red scarf wrapped around his neck. Naruto briefly notes the fact that it doesn’t look professionally made and that his best friend has been using it for over three years already.

Sakura, who is also wearing a blue sweater shivers when a cool breeze comes in from the window. Sweeping her hair onto one side, and a hand holding over her checkered skirt down from the wind, the pinkette tilts her head to regard him again.

“It’s so cold. Why are you sitting by the window?”

“I was thinking.”

“I don’t believe that.”

He glares at his bestfriend who had a teasing smirk on. A sight he is still thankful for after all his best friend had gone through.

Uchiha Itachi had passed ten months ago. One dark night, he had come home from University College, only to encounter a woman who was being harassed by a gang. One thing led to another, and the next thing he knew, Naruto was driving fast to the hospital with Sakura crying on the passengers seat as they made their way towards the hospital where Itachi was in surgery from multiple gun shot wounds.

He didn’t make it.

And a little part of his bestfriend had died that night as well.

It took some time.

There was anger.

A lot of it.

And even the desire to move to another town but somehow, Sasuke had stayed.

Naruto has no idea exactly what went on between his two friends.

Maybe it had something to do with Sakura suddenly disappearing one night, only to return the following morning with Sasuke in tow, a pretty blush adorning her cheeks and a firm hand holding her long time crush’s pale one.

“I miss Hinata.”

“Eh? who’s that?”

He berates himself for letting it slip.

For some reason, it seems that his teammates have no recollection of their former life, though this life is somewhat similar to it. They had been assigned to a permanent group for class projects. Kakashi was their homeroom teacher, still with the nasty habit of coming in late and reading porn under the guise of a book on dogs. The rest of his former classmates were here, but Hinata wasn’t. It tugs his heart a little when he thinks about how much he misses her and their kids, though he knows he won’t be seeing Boruto and Himawari until he meets with her in this world.

He lives in what is called Japan and is therefore Japanese. He knows that the world is super big than what he formerly thought, people needed planes to go to other countries, you cannot travel to other villages on foot anymore unless you want to exhaust your body. And he is eighteen years old.

“Ne, Naruto, who is Hinata?”

He pulls himself out of this funk, he feels like there is always something that turns his day sour without him intending it. It was a constant loneliness he had before, but it is different this time because although he is happy and bubbly on the outside, there is something he knows is still missing.

It eats away at him everyday.

“It’s nobody.”

The other two look at each other with confusion on their faces.

“Let’s go get ramen today.”

His mood swiftly turns up.

“Eeeeeh, you mean that teme?”

“Aa.”

“Great! let’s go!”

He gathers his things in his arms and messily shrugs his jacket on and wraps his arms around both his friends.

It is something he should be grateful for. The fact that they are here.

He jogs the rest of the way to his favorite ramen stand, briefly noting the fact that his companions are a few paces behind him with fingers laced.

A big grin graces his lips.

He supposes that nothing will ever change the red string of fate even in this life.

He’ll always have a monster inside him.

Itachi dies a hero.

And Sasuke and Sakura are always meant to be together.

.

.

.

“Hey Naruto, I heard from Kakashi sensei that we’re getting a transfer student tomorrow.”

-fin

______________

Author’s Note: Okay, so this is a series of one shots that will feature a take on the gang in various lifetimes. Point of view will mostly be from Naruto and his side of Sasuke and Sakura’s relationship in each life. Maybe there will be some of Sasuke and Sakura POVs. I already have so many scenarios in my head!

R&R!

[kerasdnd]

Hair Combs and Music

Table of Contents 

I sighed as I looked around Platform 9¾. It was 10:30 am yet it was swarmed with students and their families. I stood at Aunt Narcissa's side in her version of attention: head held high, shoulders held back, chest out, hands clasped together in a relaxed manner in front of my body, and feet together at a 60° angle. I looked down to make sure my black messenger bag wasn't causing any creases in my purple hoodie. As I did I noticed some dirt on my jeans and brushed it off quickly. I wasn't listening to what she or Uncle Lucius were trying to tell Draco and I, that is until I got a sharp jab from Draco. I turned my attention back to my Legal Guardians. "I swear Lyra. You grow more and more into your mother with each given day," my aunt commented before going on, "As I was saying, You two, along with your friends, are the Heirs to each Pureblood Family. You must live up to the expectations of your families at all times. More so at school. The five of you must be fighting each other for the top score in every class." Draco scoffed, "More like the second, since Lyra is in our year. She'll be top no matter what they threw at her." Uncle placed a hand on Draco's shoulder and squeezed while smiling. From an outsider's perspective, it would look like a father giving his son words of encouragement, but those standing here knew it was a warning. Draco fell silent quickly. I spied Theo and Blaise in the crowd just then. Turning around to face my Aunt and Uncle, I curtsied, "Please excuse Draco and I. I've spotted Theo and Blaise entering and wish to have them accompany us onto the train." Draco quickly got the hint and bowed as well. There was a moment of silence before Uncle dismissed us.

We raised from our bows but didn't dare to raise our heads until we had walked backwards a few steps and turned around. Theo and Blaise were in the middle of asking to be dismissed from Theo's parents as Draco offered me his left elbow. I smiled and gently touched my hand to his forearm. "Oh. Also your hair and makeup have a 24 hour permanent spell in place as per our agreement Lyra," Aunt Narcissa called before we were out of earshot. Becoming painfully aware of the pressure the comb in my perfect bun, I gripped Draco's arm tighter for a millisecond before releasing him. I turned back to her and curtsied again, watching her through my eyelashes. She waved her hand in acknowledgment. I sighed in relief. I repeated the dismissal and rejoined Draco, who was now accompanied by Pansy. I clasped my hands in front of myself once more, as Pansy had Draco's right arm in her left hand. None of us spoke a word while we waited 5 feet away from Theo and Blaise to be dismissed. When two boys weren't released by 10:55 am, I floated over to be in between the boys and curtsied. "I'm terribly sorry to interrupt a family matter, Mr. Zabini. However we," I gestured to the small group of Purebloods that had formed behind Draco and Pansy without looking up, "cannot board the train without them. We only have 3 minutes to board. Would you be so gracious as to dismiss them please?" The entire group bowed/curtsied as I spoke. Theo and Blaise have been bowing since they first requested to be dismissed. We waited in silence before Mr. Zabini spoke, "Very well. You are dismissed. Though Theodore, you should've been the one to bring this to our attention instead of your betrothed." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Theo's bow get deeper, "My apologies, Sir." We were waved off. Quickly doing the dismissal, Everyone scrambled onto the train. The train started moving just as the last kid of our group jumped on.

Draco, Pansy, Theo, Blaise, Vince, Greg, and I slid into the first empty compartment we could find. I sat next to the window after everyone's luggage was put away. Blaise sat across from me and patted his lap. I chuckled and moved to sit on his lap. Blaise wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my temple. Theo laughed as he took my original seat, "Lyra you act like you're engaged to Blaise instead of me." I laughed and stuck my tongue out at him. "It's because you don't do anything about it," Pansy stated as she sat next Blaise and I. Draco just scoffed as he sat next to Pansy. Greg sat next to Theo and across from Pansy. Vince sat next to Goyle and across from Draco. Theo smirked, sat crisscrossed and held out a hand to me. I felt Blaise's arms tighten around me as I placed my hand on Theo's. Theo gripped my hand and pulled me into his lap with ease, though Blaise wasn't actually trying to keep me where I was. Once I settled into my new seat, Draco cleared his throat. "So why did it take until Lyra butted in to get you two released?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "Because they caught Theo fixing my collar before we left for the station, so we got the full 'You're a Pureblood Heir' speech," Blaise sighed while Theo started to hit his head against my shoulder. "And they wouldn't take that we were actually trying to be presentable as an answer," Theo added on against my shoulder. I patted Theo's head. "That explains a lot," Pansy muttered. Everyone nodded and went on to different topics. Theo and Blaise talked about a play that happened in a Quidditch match they watched. Pansy was going on about something to Draco, who wasn't listening to her. Vince and Greg were already starting to fall asleep. I smiled, resting my head against the window, as I watched the compartment resemble home. I slowly closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep in Theo's lap.

I was shaken awake, what seemed like, a few minutes later. Grumbling, I pushed away the hands and rubbed my eyes. When I opened my eyes, I saw that only Theo, Blaise and I were left in the compartment. Blaise was munching on a Pumpkin Pastie. It took a moment for me to realize that he was sideways. "Jeez, how long was I out?" I asked sitting up. Theo chuckled, "It's just now turning 3 pm so only about two hours. And before you ask: Yes, I got you some Every Flavor Beans. I have no idea where Draco, Vince, and Greg went. And Pansy just left to use the Loo." I stretched and groaned as some of my joints popped. Then I leaned over to grab my box of jelly beans from the other side of Theo. I settled into my seat once more with said candy, smiling. I watched the scenery pass by us as I quietly ate the sweets. Suddenly the door slammed open. I jumped, turning back to see the rest of our group pile in at once. "He thinks he's sooo amazing. I'll show him, just watch," Draco ranted as he sat next to Blaise. Theo threw a Chocolate frog at Droca, whom easily caught it and started opening. Vince sat on the other side of Draco while Greg helped gather up the other sweets so that Pansy would have a clear seat on the other side of Theo and Greg came to sit on the ground at Blaise's and my feet. I offered him some of my candy and he took some smiling. This entire time Draco was ranting and raving over someone. Finally, I sighed, "Draco, who in seven hells are you talking about?" Everybody turned to me in shock. "What? It's like you don't remember that I wasn't apart of this group until two years ago," I stated as I started searching through my bag. Draco broke the silence quickly, "I'm talking about Harry Potter. I offered to be his friend and he denied me. Oh I know," I had found and pulled out my iPod Touch at this point. Completely ignoring Draco, I turned to Pansy. "This bag is awesome. Thank you again," I smiled at her. Pansy chuckled, "Thank my mother. She's the one who had the idea to put the undetectable Expansion Charm on it. I simply picked out the style." "It's still amazing," I stated as I placed my left earbud in.

I scrolled through my music gallery when Greg said, "And to answer your question, yes we do." We froze and looked at him. Greg shifted in his spot uncomfortable about being in the spotlight but continued, "It's easy to forget you were with your Aunt Andromeda up until we were all nine years old. Draco is our Leader. Vince and I are the Muscle. Theo and Blaise are the Pranksters. Pansy is the Princess. And you, Lyra, are all of our confidants. I'm sure you know more about each of us than the rest of us put together." I felt my cheeks glow red at his words. "Thank you, Greg, for saying those touching words, but please stay on topic," Draco demanded as he went back into his rant. Everything went back to normal at Draco's words and Greg deflated. I placed a hand on his shoulder and he looked up at me. I mouthed thank you and smiled at him. Greg smiled back and returned to listening to Draco. I went back to my iPod and turned on What about Us by P!nk. I placed the other earbud in and lost myself in music.

I didn't move or interact with the group again until I realized it was dark outside. I sighed and climbed over Theo so I could stand without stepping on Greg. Everyone looked at me. "It's dark out and I'm the only one who isn't in school robes. I need to go change," I answered the silent question that hanging in the air. Pansy immediately started to get up but I waved her off. "I'll be fine Pans. You just relax," I said as I opened the door. "You know she'll hear about this, don't you?" Vince asked, sounding scared for me. I turned and looked at him. "My Aunt nor my Uncle can reach us at Hogwarts. We all know this that's why we did what we want today on the train. Our easy banter. Draco's ranting. Pansy's candy eating. Goyle's little speech. Theo's and Blaise's mini fight over whose lap I was going to sit on. Here at Hogwarts, we're free. I'm not scared of the punishments anyway. We all know I'll take all the blame if it does get back to them. You know that right?" I asked him. Vince nodded and so did everyone else when I looked at them. "Good. I'll be back in a few minutes," With that, I closed the door and went to the loo to change.

I slipped through the other first years who were doing some last minute changing as well. Over my music, I heard a muggle born complain that her iPod wasn't working as I passed her. I lowered my head and hoped she didn't notice that I had my earbuds in. "Excuse me?" the girl called out while also grabbing my bag effectively stopping me from entering the stall I was headed for. I took a deep breath before turning around and taking out my right earbud. "I'm sorry. Is there a line that I missed?" I asked cautiously as I looked at the girl who stopped me. Taking a quick assessment, the girl was about my age, had slightly bucked teeth, bushy hair and was already in her robes. "No, there's no line. I'm sorry to bother you. But I noticed that you were listening to earbuds and was wonder how you got your device to work?" she quickly explained as she released my bag. I tucked the unused earbud into the collar of my hoodie and faced her full on with my hands in the pockets. "I have no idea how it's working. I've been assuming my aunt simply charmed to work in Magical Areas. Though now that I think about it, my iPod still shouldn't work since we're on the train," I stopped to ponder the question then shrugged, "I guess my other aunt called in a few favors with the staff." The girl sighed and looked defeated for a moment before smiling once again. "Okay, thanks anyway. I'm Hermione Granger by the way," she stated while extending her hand. I could still hear the disappointment in her voice but I didn't take her hand. She was still a muggle born after all. There were still some things I'll never take the risk of punishment for. "Lyra Lestrange. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to change before we get to Hogsmeade," I commented as I slipped into the stall.

I quickly changed though I didn't want to. When my shirt and pants were on I snaked my earbuds through my shirt so I didn't have to worry about them getting caught on anything. I placed my iPod in my back pocket and continued getting dressed. Once everything was where it was supposed to be, I walked out and got blindsided by the mirror as I washed my hands. My obsidian hair was made up into a perfect bun on the top of my head. My bangs fell just right to frame my lilac eyes and make them noticeable. Aunt Narcissa added even more effect by dusting a silver-grey eyeshadow over my lids and cat-eyed my eyeliner. Thankfully she didn't bother doing any foundation or cover-up, saying something about blocking pores when I went to bed tonight. She did apply the faintest hint of pink lipstick to my lips. However what caught my eye the most was the comb that was holding my hair in place. It was a blooming emerald flower that was surrounded by vines of diamonds set in silver. I reexamined my makeup and realized that it wasn't to articulate my eyes. However, it was to compliment the hair piece. Rage flared through my body and I stormed out of the loo after drying my hands.

I slammed into the compartment, closed the door and slid down to the floor with my back to it. "I guess you finally got the full picture of what my mother did to you," Draco asked softly. I looked over at him. Draco looked ashamed of his mother's actions. I sighed and shook my head. "Draco, I agreed to this so that I could wear the tux to my birthday ball, comfortable clothes to the platform, and the boy's uniform here at school. I just wish she didn't make the comb the centerpiece. It screams rich kid more than my iPod," I ranted. Draco nodded. Then Blaise laughed. We all turned to him. "Guys, Lyra is finally 11," he explained. I rolled my eyes at him as everyone joined in on his laughter. Just as I was about to give a retort, the train came to a stop. We became silent instantly. Pansy stood up and looked down at me. "Ready to become the pinnacle of Slytherin Royalty?" Pansy asked while holding her hand out to me. I smirked and took it. She pulled me up as I replied, "Only if you guys are by my side the whole way."

[stretchjournalemerson]

Because He Prepared Me

By Rachel Lamarre - 

When I woke up on Sunday, the day of graduation, getting ready felt foreign to me. For the past six days, my family and I had been practically living in my grandfather’s hospital room. I wore sweatpants and slippers with my hair swept up into a bun that got increasingly more messy as time went on. Makeup was not even a thought. My grampy was admitted to Beverly Hospital and placed in their intensive care unit after falling off a ladder at work. Yes, at work. He was eighty-seven years old and had yet to retire. My dad says it was the stubborn French Canadian in him and also credits this with what allowed him to fight for recovery as many days as he did. Until Saturday to be exact.

In a short span of about thirty minutes, the bleachers of Hurd Stadium were filled with excited families. Eager students wearing black gowns and individually decorated caps took their seats in folding chairs on the grass. The first person stepping up to the podium to speak was our mayor Mike Cahill. Amid his words of praise and well wishes for the future, the mayor delivered these lines. “Each one of you has people that have been there for you and have helped you when you needed support. These people love you deeply and are truly bursting with pride. If they’re here today, make sure you give them a big hug. If they are not able to be here or are no longer with us, please take a moment to think of them and send them thoughts of love.”

There I was, crying in my seat. I was proud of myself for keeping it together up until this point. My one free hand was used to quickly wipe away tears, while the other was permanently positioned on top of my head to keep my cap from blowing off. I was lucky enough to have been given an aisle seat and tried to face away from the kid next to me. When I turned my head he was giving me a look that was full of judgment and confusion simultaneously. I gave it right back to him, at least the confusion part because he was one of the people I didn't even think would make it to sit in one of these chairs.

Finding my mom among the sea of the crowd filling the stands was impossible, but I wondered if she was crying too. It was easier to find my dad, leaning against the fence, as far away from people as possible. He wasn’t sitting with my mom because she was sitting with her sister. My aunt flew in from Florida to surprise me, thinking it would somehow make up for the fact that she hasn’t kept in touch for years. I had to pretend I was happy to see her. Saying my dad cannot stand her is an understatement. My dad also removed himself from the crowd because he simply did not have the energy to really interact with anyone. His sunglasses successfully covered up how emotionally drained he was and kept me from seeing whether or not he was crying. Regardless, I knew he didn’t want to be there.

I think it started when I was around five, my grandparents took me out to breakfast on Saturday mornings. They bought a blue car seat with pink butterflies to put in the back of their Cadillac Deville and let me bring my babydoll. My pancakes came in the shape of Mickey Mouse and I was allowed to drink chocolate milk.

“How long do you think we’ll do this?” asked my grampy.

Naively, I replied, “Forever,” with no concept of time or change.

“You got it,” he said, pointing a piece of bacon at me.

I stared down at the goosebumps on my bare legs while picking at the white polish on my fingernails. I thought about how messed up it was that one of the most important people in my life didn’t live to see what was arguably my most significant accomplishment to date. I wondered if people on the bleachers noticed me when scanning the rows of seats, questioning why I appeared sad on such a momentous day. Then again, I really didn’t care. The only person out of my entire graduating class to know what had happened was my best friend Rebecca. I so desperately wanted to make eye contact with her. She would’ve smiled at me, telling me she loves me without actually saying the words, and I would have felt instantly better. Unfortunately, Rebecca sat two rows directly behind me because her last name comes after mine in the alphabet. There is no other instance where this fact would matter, but at that moment I despised the inconvenience it caused me.

He put 13 dollars down on the table for my weekly allowance, because that's how old I was. After zipping his maroon jacket and securing his baseball hat, my grampy gave me a hug.

“See you next Saturday,” I said.

“God willing,” he answered.

I don’t remember exactly when it started, but this had now become a thing whenever he would leave.

“Why do you always say that?” I asked.

He paused and looked over my head. “Because at this point you just never know.”

Names were being called, yet with everything going on, they seemed distant. I watched the corresponding students walk across the stage, knowing very well that I would never see the majority of them again. Cheering from the crowd was drowned out by my thoughts and I would only briefly regain presence in the moment when a particularly obnoxious group at the back would use their blow horns. I thought about how over the course of our relationship my grandfather began to talk with more and more uncertainty. We all know we are going to die one day, and I guess you become even more aware of this as you get older. He would never guarantee anything or plan too far in advance, not knowing what the future held for him. I don’t know if it was intentional, but my grampy conditioned me to think this way as well.

We sat in our usual booth, even though it is by the door and forces us to keep our coats on. The pancakes I get are boring, round like everyone else’s, and there’s water in my glass.

“I think I’m going to choose Emerson,” I told him. “It’s my favorite out of all the ones I visited.”

“That’s excellent to hear,” he said, eyes focused on the piece of potato he was poking with his fork.

“I’m going to commute because it’s close enough,” I added, “Which also means we can still do this.”

“We aren’t going to do this once you start college,” he replied, without hesitation.

My silence made him look up from his plate. After studying my face for a moment, he continued.

“That is a new chapter in your life. You’re going to be an adult, you’re going to be busy, and I don’t want to hold you back.”

One of the junior marshals came and stood next to my chair, signaling it was time for my row to approach the stage. I took my steps slowly, relieved that one of the most emotionally complex moments I’ve had to deal with was close to being over. As I ran my hands over the smooth black stair railing and awaited my turn, that little bit of self-doubt that followed me all through high school told me no one would clap when I walked across to get my diploma. But they did, and I could hear them loud and clear. At that moment I felt proud of myself. This emotion was short-lived but intense in its duration.

Losing someone is never easy and anyone who claims to be fully prepared for it is lying. With this being said, removing the taboo and being aware of death can surely ease any grieving when the time comes. I realize now that as I was growing up, my grampy taught me that things don’t last forever. He ingrained in me the arguably unconventional mindset of uncertainty. As it is common for parents to shelter their children from the idea of death, I am grateful this was something my grampy was not afraid of. In a way, he set me up to be more understanding when he died. It was something he would reference every so often and it became quite normal. Learning to embrace impermanence made me cherish every moment I spent with my grampy, not knowing if it would be the last, and I have no regrets.

Being taught that death is inevitable keeps you focused on the now. I never worried about my grampy dying or dreaded the day it would happen, but I remained realistic. I had accepted it was going to be a thing simply because he had accepted it was going to be a thing. I understand now that he always brought it up throughout our time together because he cared about me. My grampy never wanted me to be shocked or inconsolable. He wanted to prevent me from being devastated to the point where I couldn’t continue life as usual, focusing on my goals. I came to the conclusion that my grampy didn’t change the way he lived his life knowing he was eventually going to die, so I shouldn’t let the fact that his death happened change the way I live my life going forward.

After the last name had been called, our class president came and stood in front of us. We were instructed to move our tassels to the other side of our caps.

“The future is ours,” she yelled. “Here’s to the next chapter.”

Then, 350 voices counted down from three and threw their caps into the air. As I watched mine float and listened to the band play, I accepted what was to come with open arms.

Acknowledgments

Thank you to Allison, Eitan, and Professor Kovaleski-Byrnes for your feedback and guidance with this project. Thank you to Sarah Sweeney for sharing stories that modeled how to navigate complex emotions and helped me string together my past and present as seamlessly as possible. Lastly, thank you to my grampy, who I miss dearly, for teaching me to accept impermanence and embrace uncertainty.

[literallyjustanerd]

In His Eyes (Chapter 4)

This one’s pretty new, actually. And it’s Angsty.

Genre: Slow build/eventual romance Word count: 3333 Pairing: Nightcrawler/Angel Rating: T+

Read it here xxx

“Remember, your aim here is not offence. It is defence.” The professor’s voice rings out through the cavernous metal hall, echoing off the walls as his class stands before him. It is Thursday night, seven thirty-seven in the evening, and with dinner just barely digested, the class of hopefuls are lined up in uniform, some jittery with excitement and others just ready to go to bed. Peter is neither: though he is not exactly excited at the prospect of another boring defence simulation, this at least gives him something to do to fill the time.

“Collect the dummies, deposit them in the safety zone, keep them away from the sentinels’ attacks.” Jean’s mind is focused, her face drawn and eyes scanning the room that will in just a few moments’ time become a war zone. She is quietly serious, as she is about all her classes. Where the others are vocal in their excitement or criticism, she appears stoically serious. “You have forty-five minutes. Good luck.”

The professor wheels himself out of the room, taking his place on the bridge above to watch the exercise. Warren eyes him as he does, still unable to make a call just yet on what he thinks of the man. While he really has no intentions of ever joining the X-Men, he wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to show off his newly recovered skill, and so, when the lights go dark, there is a soft whoosh as his wings sweep outwards and stretch to their full breadth and the others take their stances. When the room lights up once again, they are surrounded by chaos, numerous towering sentinels advancing towards their area, which now appears as a derelict old lot littered with hunks of crumbled buildings and helpless mutants needing their assistance. Instantly, the most eager students are on the move: Jubilee has made a break for the nearest civilian to her within moments, and Peter really has no choice but to be the quickest to take action. The others take another moment or so to assess the situation, filtering through the tactics they’d been taught, the formations and strategies for “maximising efficiency,” as the professor so eloquently put it. “Cyclops!” Ororo shouts over the rumbling of the sentinels. “The one on your left, attack its legs, throw it off balance. Jean and I can push it over from the top.” She is already in the air by the time her sentence is finished, wind whirling and whipping around her in a vortex that takes her twenty feet upwards in two seconds flat. Jean is slower to follow: she has still not quite gotten the hang of self-levitation under pressure. “What? We’re supposed to be on defence,” Scott calls back. “Focus on getting the dummies to safety, not on taking the sentinels down!” “This is defence!” Ororo retorts. “If we take out the sentinel, that’s one less threat to worry about!” Kurt listens to the bickering continue, even as Scott relents –though not without great verbal resistance– and goes along with Ororo’s orders. Kurt knows what his purpose here, and he focuses on doing it well, ferrying dummies to the safety zone with Peter working alongside him as the others held off the Sentinels. Many a time this sort of exercise has ended in the two attempting an impromptu race – the speed of thought versus the speed of, well, Peter.

There is a thundering crash, the whole hall shaking as a sentinel falls, and for one very jarring moment, all of the students forget that this is a simulation. Though stuck very solidly in their minds is the fact that this simulation can still cause very real pain. As Kurt appears beside his next target, he is just in time to witness Warren swoop down beside him and scoop up a dummy from between two cement blocks, his movements reminiscent of a great bird of prey. For a moment, Kurt cannot help watching Warren arc back upwards, then shakes himself out of it to continue his work. “Jubilee, fry it! It’s getting too close to that group there!” “I have too many here, guys! Someone lend a hand!” “Quicksilver, if you run into me one more time, you’re spending the next week with a permanent storm cloud over your head!” Gradually, the action begins to slow. The dummies have been “saved,” and without anything else to do for the remaining few minutes, the others take down the remaining sentinels, having a bit of fun as they do, showing off and cheering or jeering at each other. Scott carves out his initials in the side of a felled robot, gaining a decent round of applause from the room and a quiet sigh from the professor. Ororo and Jean find themselves in a game of volleyball with a severed sentinel head. Even Kurt decides to get in on it, swinging himself up the branches of a tree, adding a few flips and flairs for good measure. When he reaches the top, he wants to continue, and takes himself in a blink to the shoulder of the last standing sentinel, which Jubilee had previously insisted on taking down herself. The group whoops and laughs as he teases it, dodges it, hangs by his tail from its arm. However, Kurt soon takes his routine a step too far. Midway between leaping off the sentinel’s head and landing safely and gracefully on the ground (complete with closing flourish and bow as he used to do when he ended his circus routines), the great lumbering robot almost manages to catch up to him, his sweeping hand just barely clipping Kurt’s heel. However, it is still enough to throw Kurt off, and though he teleports himself to the ground, he hits the ground awkwardly, his ankle giving way and sending him into a haphazard roll. Jubilee is there to help him up, fussing over him the whole way to the edge of the hall as Jean and Scott take care of the offending sentinel. Kurt insists he is fine, but he can’t mask the limp in his walk, or the wince on his face: his ankle burns with pain and already feels like it is swelling.

In the end, the team leaves the Danger Room with equal parts praise and criticism. Judging by his tone, it seems even Professor X knows that the lack of seriousness is not a problem he will soon have solved: kids will be kids, he supposes, sighing as he dismisses them to clean up and go to bed. He cannot expect to make full-fledged X-Men out of teenagers in just a handful of sessions. One by one, the kids disappear into the showers, the ruckus dying down but not quite finished. Losing himself for a moment in the buzzing atmosphere, Warren grins and laughs as Peter and Jubilee mock Scott and Ororo’s bickering, unable to catch himself before the others do. “Enjoyed yourself after all, eh, Angel?” Jubilee gloats, digging Warren in the ribs. In an instant, the smile retreats, replaced by his default flat expression and an eye-roll for good measure. “Yeah, yeah,” he dismisses. “Don’t go reading into it. It was just funny to watch you all running around like idiots.” Peter chortles. “Way to cover it up, feathers.” “Shut up.” Kurt’s mouth twitches up as he hears the defensive remarks from inside his shower cubicle, setting his neatly folded clean clothes down on the bench before running the water. He feels a certain swell of pride in his chest, spurred on by the thought that he has seen underneath the sharp and unyielding exterior Warren keeps otherwise unbroken. Part of him can’t help but to feel special that he is the only one to have an experience like theirs on the rafters that night. After Scott’s words to him a couple of weeks ago, something had changed in Kurt’s mind. The part of his brain that held his feelings for Warren was no longer fenced off and topped with barbed wire. Instead, he lets his thoughts wander, even going so far as to consider the possibility of Warren returning his, well… fondness.

When he steps under the water, his ankle throbs, reminding him to keep the majority of his weight on the other leg. It isn’t anything serious: a minor sprain at worst, he thinks, recalling a history of jarred joints and painful landings from trapezes and highwires. He showers quickly, dresses quickly, and takes himself to his bedroom, thankful as he often is that he does not have to go the long way as his friends do. He flicks the lock on the door –Peter had a habit of rushing in without remembering to knock– and pulls out a pair of flannelette pants and a white singlet. Adjusting to American clothing had taken a while: he was used to having just a few outfits to switch between, and the endless racks of identical garments in differing sizes confused him to no end. But Jubilee had insisted on taking him out and giving him a “proper wardrobe,” and with her expertise, and a little funding from the professor, he had ended up with a selection of outfits he was quite happy with. Though of course, despite his clothes now coming from a store, he still had to retain his knack for sewing – Levi jeans didn’t come with holes for a tail. Once he is dressed, he unlocks the door, leaving it open as grabs the novel Jean had recommended to him a week or so earlier. He sits on the window seat, ankle propped up on a pillow to keep the swelling down. He reads in the yellow light of his bedside lamp for a few minutes, once in a while eyeing the empty bed opposite his and wondering what Peter could be doing that was taking so long. Nonetheless, he is happy to have a little peace and quiet in which to get lost in the pages of his book. In Germany, he would read whatever he could get his hands on, mostly from second hand markets and from his fellow performers. Upon arriving at Xavier’s, the rate at which he burned through books had doubled, then tripled, until he was scarcely without something to read. He liked almost everything, from thrillers to period dramas, though his current novel, an addictive crime novel laced with romance, had particularly captured his attention.

Warren had almost passed straight by Kurt’s door as he made his way to his own room. He had never taken notice of it before, certainly. But this time when he walks past, the glimpse he catches of the boy sitting on the windowsill makes him stop. After two or three seconds, he opens his mouth to explain his presence. But Kurt has still not looked up, so he says nothing. It seems he is far too absorbed in his book to take in anything that is happening around him, his shoulders hunched forward as though to bring himself closer to what is unfolding on the page. Curiosity overtakes Warren as he watches Kurt, bathed in warm, incandescent light, one hand raised to his lips and brow knitted in deep focus. His tail moves as though with a mind of its own, swaying listlessly back and forth over the faded carpet. Without thinking much about what he is doing, and in fact with part of him resisting the whole way, Warren’s eyes slide over the details of Kurt’s face that he has never bothered to take in before. The sharp curves of his chin and his nose. The way his eyes catch the light and throw it back out. The markings on his face, intricate swirls and angled lines, all of which are clearly visible in the shadows thrown out by the lamplight. He wonders if Kurt was born with those markings. He wonders if he really wants to know. These thoughts, ones that still feel alien to him, are quickly caught by those closer to the surface and banished back to whatever strange corner of his mind they came from. They don’t belong in his head – they are strange and uncomfortable, and not part of the Warren he knows how to handle. Though thankfully, the swell of frustration that follows is familiar. There is still something in him that he understands.

“Warren! You scared me.” The exclamation itself makes Warren jump as he realises that Kurt has looked up from his book long enough to notice him. “Can I help you?” asks Kurt, closing his book but keeping one finger wedged in between to mark his page. Warren scrambles for a response slightly less uncomfortable than “I was just thinking about your eyes.” “How’s your ankle?” he blurts, and the two of them look down to Kurt’s raised ankle.

“It’s fine,” he shrugs in response. “Just a little sore. It’ll probably be better in a couple of days.” Warren nods, only having taken in half of Kurt’s words. “Thanks for asking,” he adds, and Warren notices a bright smile: Kurt once again feels that small tide of specialness rising. “No problem,” Warren replies. “It looked like you enjoyed the Danger Room. Even though you denied it to the others.” “Well. Yeah. I guess so. I just like flying.” Kurt notices the disjointedness in Warren’s words and smiles softly. “It’s okay,” he assures the boy standing in his doorway. “You don’t have to do that around me anymore.” “What? Do What?” “You know. The whole distant, angry thing. I think we’re past that now, aren’t we?” Those particular words hit Warren the wrong way, striking a chord in him feels off-key. The familiarity with which Kurt speaks, the assumption that he and Warren are on the same page brings a frown to his face. “Who says?” he snarks. This confuses Kurt: it feels like he is once again speaking to the Warren he knew months ago. He takes his finger out of his book and sets it on his nightstand, sitting up straight on the windowsill and pressing his lips together tightly. Warren kicks himself mentally for letting himself notice the action. The fire inside him grows, fed by confusion and discomfort and fanned by fear and frustration. “I just thought–” “What, you thought we were best buddies or something? Just coz we had a little midnight talk?” Kurt feels like the carpet has just been pulled out from under him, and now he is falling, flailing, his stomach thrown into his throat. “Well, no, but I– I figured we were a little closer than you were with the others. I mean, aren’t we?” He sputters, standing now and ignoring the protest his ankle puts up. The more he thinks, the more he stews under the heat of Warren’s glare, the more his specialness shrinks, turning poisonous and churning up his insides. You’re an idiot, he curses. He’s right. You had one little talk and suddenly you think you’re the apple of his eye, just because you have a little crush? His hands clench, fingernails digging into his palms hard enough to break the skin. Warren can’t believe what he is hearing. He isn’t ready for this, isn’t prepared for any of this to be verbalised, and hearing Kurt trying to do so anyway angers him. Part of him knows Kurt can’t be blamed, but it is easier, so much easier to let that part be drowned out. “Why the hell would you think that?” Warren spits. “We’re not closer than anyone.” “I’m sorry.” There are tears in Kurt’s eyes now: he had not invited them, but he stood no chance of fighting them back. Warren huffs in reply. “Same thing you said when you tore up my wing.” Immediately, Warren’s eyes go wide. He hadn’t meant to say that. Even in his state, he knew that that topic should have been out of bounds. But there is no way he will take it back. Instead, he keeps the scowl on his face and turns on his heel, trying not to look like he is fleeing as he hurries to the sanctuary of his room.

When he closes the door behind him, an unexpected tidal wave of anger hits him, surges through his veins so quick and burning hot that he feels it might tear him apart. He whips around and slams a fist into the wall, letting out a cry like a wounded animal. The talons that tip his wings dig into the wall, tearing up plaster and leaving small holes, scars, like many he has left on this room. How could he have done that? How could he let himself treat Kurt that way, when Kurt had done nothing but apologise and put up with his shit for months? One more pound on the wall, weaker this time, and he forces himself to stop: the last thing he needs right now is someone coming to ask if he is alright. Muttering curses to himself, he reaches between his bed and his nightstand, finding only a half-empty bottle of gin. It would have to do. Pulling the cap off, he drinks deeply, welcoming the intense burn in his throat. He deserves it, for what he has done. Should’ve known I’d find a way to fuck this up, he thinks. A perfect chance to open up, to let himself heal, and he throws it away because he’s too scared of a few thoughts he doesn’t understand. Maybe it’s for the best, he laments. Kurt deserves better, anyway.

Kurt’s fingers are numb. His mouth feels heavy, and his head is spinning with the number of conflicting thoughts vying for his attention. The bed catches him when he falls, and for a long while he just sits with his head in his hands, catching his tears and trying to make sense of what has just happened. This is what happens when your fantasies get the better of you, he chastises, driving his palms into his closed eyes and rubbing away his tears. Suddenly conscious of what will happen if Peter comes hurtling in to find him all teary-eyed, he switches off the bedside lamp, welcoming the dimness in the few seconds it takes his eyes to adjust to the dark. He peels back the covers and retreats underneath, covering himself completely and trying to pretend that it had all just been a bad dream. Warren didn’t hate him, he hadn’t just made a fool of himself, he hadn’t just shattered the tentative dreams he’d been putting together over the previous weeks. When Peter finally comes upstairs ten minutes later, finished with his talking and joking with the oblivious others, he finds his roommate seemingly asleep in their dark room. He does his best to be quiet as he slides into bed, wondering why Kurt isn’t still up reading as he has been every night for the past two weeks. Kurt keeps his mouth pressed to the duvet, muffling the sounds of his still shaky breaths. He listens as Peter’s breathing grows slow and even. It never takes him long to fall asleep. When Kurt is sure he is alone, he shifts, staring up at the ceiling and wondering where if now he will have to act like he and Warren had never been anything more than former enemies. The thought pains him, twists the knife already lodged in his gut. He hopes beyond hope that Warren will come around. There is always the possibility that this was just another defensive moment, and that he will feel differently in the morning. Or maybe he even feels differently now. Still, Kurt cannot see Warren giving up the pride needed to apologise, or even to respond well to having the subject raised over breakfast or during class. Maybe it’s just better this way, Kurt relents, turning over and cocooning himself in his duvet. It’s not like there’s any chance for us in the long run. In friendship or otherwise.

[kaylamatth3ws-blog]

NOW YOU KNOW

Kayla Orea, 2019

Kyle has just recently lost his best friend, Daya, to suicide after they had not been speaking for around four months. They were notorious for fighting over their lack of communication due to their life circumstances, but they never kept their problems from each other. Kyle is unable to cope with Daya’s death as he feels he was personally abandoned and, in turn, at fault.

Characters:

DAYA, was 19 - Longtime friend of KYLE’s prior to her death. She harboured a lot of pain and was quick to snap and stall their friendship for months at a time, but she was always vulnerable and open with her best friend. She sought for a world better than the current, and a life happier than the one she was given.

KYLE, 18 - Emotionally stunted and unable to display his feelings in an appropriate matter following the death of his best friend, DAYA. His behaviour is erratic and he often breaks down at a moment’s notice then switches back to normal. He is unable to process her death and harbours a great deal of anger, confusion, and self-loathe because of DAYA. He still refers to her in the present tense and checks his phone for messages from her every day.

EXT. - A CEMETERY - FRIDAY AFTERNOON

There are a plethora of tombstones neighbouring each other, with the occasional cleaner coming by. There is a group of people standing near a specific tombstone, most of which are immersed in the ceremony taking place and are crying. The sky is dull and there are seldom birds to mask the noise of sobs.

KYLE, the best friend of the deceased, DAYA, is seen in the distance near a tall tree. He avoids catching the eyes of those involved in the ceremony, and ducks when any appear to be searching for him. He waits until all the people leave the area and then approaches his friends, asking them to wait for him to catch up so he could get a ride back as well. He reaches into his pocket for a paper but then quickly crumples it up and throws it out.

KYLE

I’m sorry I couldn’t stand there with, with that crowd and face you. I’m sorry I didn’t speak. I don’t know how to address you.

KYLE starts to hesitate, with noticeable stuttering.

Y-your stone? Your-your grave, this site, the crowd, all of this, I-I couldn’t make it. I was in the back, though, if that does anything for you. Can it even? You probably can’t even hear me anyway. If you were gonna wander then I doubt you’d wander your grave. Maybe you’d go loiter around that park we go to－I mean, that we went to.

KYLE starts smiling through tears.

Maybe that idea alone is all that gives me closure. That you’re wandering somewhere here so that I don’t feel like you’re gone entirely from my reach. Not my reach. My life.

KYLE’s tears start falling.

Why-why did you leave? I wanted to do so much more with you, we-we didn’t even get to travel together yet. All of my wishes, your wishes, OUR wishes, you’ve killed them all too. You killed everything.

KYLE wipes his tears as strength starts to come back in his voice.

You didn’t just kill yourself, you killed all that shone, you made everything dimmer. Dim. I don’t like this life without you, Day, and it’s only been a few weeks. How do I cope without my best friend? How am I supposed to face this world every morning knowing I let you down like this? You wouldn’t have, I know it, if I was there. It was me, wasn’t it?

KYLE gets up and walks away from the grave, but turns back and takes a seat right next to the grave, leaning against the tombstone.

I don’t think I ever told you just how much I thought about you, you know? I probably should have. Maybe then you would’ve thought of me before, you know, the moment. I always remembered you, even when we weren’t speaking. I actually always used to hate that because you would piss me off so much, to the point that I would even walk into a new year without you, but then I wouldn’t walk in without your thoughts clouding me, without your image haunting me, without you basically. You were my start, but even at your end, you’re not ending. You can’t leave me. You won’t. Even now that you truly did, you’re still here. Lingering. Not discreetly, might I add.

A small smile forms on KYLE’s face.

I woke up this morning and I thought I heard your voice. You called me a nerd since you’re a bully, or since you were.

Tears start to well up in KYLE’s eyes.

I don’t wanna talk about you like this, in the past. You weren’t supposed to be just my past, you were supposed to be my present, my future, my life. I wasn’t meant to meet you and then lose you like this. This can’t be true. How would this be right in any world? How could it? I-I would say I hate you but you know I can’t. I tried so hard to, I would always try to actually because sometimes you just piss me off way too much but n-now, now I can’t even say you PISS me off because you’re not here to anymore. And I hate that. Come back.

KYLE starts to break down and thrash at his clothes.

COME PISS ME OFF. COME GET ME ANGRY AND MAKE ME WANT TO LEAVE AGAIN, SPEND ANOTHER SIX MONTHS AWAY FROM YOU BUT STILL BE ABLE TO WALK BACK INTO YOUR LIFE BECAUSE I CAN. BECAUSE YOU’RE HERE. W-why aren’t you here? You should be here.

KYLE topples over for a few moments to cry but then sits back up to face the grave entirely, as if a person were in its place.

We don’t-we don’t leave permanently, remember? You are supposed to be living without me as I do too and then we collide like always. Who lets life intervene? What let your life get so bad? Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve been there, you know that. If no one else, I would have. I would have told you some stupid joke and brought you back to reality, to where you remember that life is constantly moving, that this TOO would have passed. Eventually. And that I would’ve been there if it wouldn’t budge from your life, that I would make it go away somehow, or lessen the pain. Somehow, I would just need you to want to fight. S-so why didn’t you want to now? What stopped you? Was it time?

Tears form once again and KYLE bends his head down and wipes the tears and snot from his face, taking a few seconds to breathe.

Are you happy now? Finally? I feel you are. I can feel you smiling down on me, through this sun. This burning sun. Are you smiling that wide?

A smile forms on KYLE’s face.

I miss your smile. I have photos but nothing beats the real thing. It has been months since I had seen you last. Months without that smile. But I couldn’t bare to look at you in your casket. Not like this. With all the colour drained from your face. How could I ever do that? And you’re wearing makeup too, as if you ever even learned how to use it.

KYLE starts laughing.

You knew as much about makeup as you did about math. Or maybe that’s too kind. Your math skills are something atrocious, I bet you still had the nightmares about that one test too. Or your teacher, the one that said your class was a joke. Who hurt her, man? Or if we really wanna talk ‘bout hurting people, we should talk ‘bout you slipping over mud that one time, right after we hugged. Do you still think I sabotaged you? Somehow made you slip? I’d love to say I did but even I cannot take the credit for that amazing wipeout of yours, Day, that was all you. All you. It was always, all you.

KYLE stands up after taking a few seconds to smile over the memories that flashed before him and then places a single rose on the tombstone. He hovers over the grave for a moment and then looks up at the sky.

I loved you from the first time I met you to this very second. I will treasure what you gave me in this lifetime. The hope, the happiness, the laughs, the pain, the anger, the food, the void, I will treasure it all. And I know deep down you treasured me too. I never wanted you to live with hurt so I’ll take your leave as you being happy now. Wherever you are. Saving a spot for me right beside you, of course.

KYLE wipes his eyes and turns away to leave the cemetery, but turns back to say a final thought.

Forgive me for needing to lose you to finally tell you that I couldn’t bare the thought of it.

KYLE turns around and heads out the cemetery, walking towards his friend’s car but then deciding to walk and waves his friends off. As he is walking, he is seen turning back one final time to DAYA’s tombstone, as if to gesture “see you soon.”

EXT. - A PARK NEIGHBOURING A HIGH SCHOOL - SATURDAY NIGHT, ONE MONTH LATER

There is a single bench placed by the tallest tree of the park with leaves slowly falling from its branches. The park is empty aside from the few birds that are playing with a fallen newspaper in the grass. The sounds of cars are muffled in the distance.

KYLE is immersed in the trees hanging above him as he examines the leaves falling to the ground and attempts to catch a few for a closer look. While he attempts to get a closer look at the leaves, he takes bites of the ice cream he is holding and looks up at the stars in the sky and mouths the numbers as he counts each star, smiling as he messes up count and starts again. He smiles once he notices the moon is full and then looks down on his right side where another cup of ice cream is found, with a spoon in it yet no bites are apparent. The ice cream starts to melt and KYLE smiles with tears in his eyes.

KYLE

Still stealing your ice cream. I’ll never change.

KYLE starts to finish the ice cream from beside him and stares up at the stars, smiling to himself as he does.