#the poor people wrangled into teaching the classes though

[in-tua-deep]

I’m on vacation yet I suddenly have a hankering to write a series of oneshots where the hargreeves siblings get kicked out of various craft classes and skill lessons

[gh0stfacesho3]

Transfer of Words

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Gender Non-Specific Reader

Word Count: +3.5k 

Warning: Fluff, mild angst. Professor x Student (College Au, all characters are +18), language, mention of abuse, mention of alcohol. 

Summary: As a Professor in the states, you were used to transfer students. You weren’t exactly ready for this new transfer student who is the son of the owner of Mike Sneakers (we don’t do free sponsors here ) 

   You were especially used to transfer students because you had a doctorate in linguistics. Being this, you knew a plethora of languages, from English, Spanish, French, Mandarin, Korean, Japanese, Greek, Latin, and a few native languages. You were always fascinated by languages and how people came up with these mixes of characters and words to make beautiful phrases. Since you were a kid you started to learn other languages. You had a French neighbor in your old hometown which is where you picked it up at age 7. Then, when you were 10, your family took a trip to Mexico which is when you became interested by Spanish. You fully understood the language by age 11 due to your prior knowledge of French. Then this process just continued where you would just learn languages mainly for fun. This lead to you being a linguistics professor who also taught second languages and would take in quite a few transfer kids. This lead to the journey of Jeon Jungkook and it was definitely a wild one. 

   You walked into your office at about 9:00 and placed your laptop onto the desk. You straighten up your outfit before settling in and getting to work. As you looked through your emails, you noticed an email that was about another transfer student. You kind of glanced over it, but didn’t pay too much mind to it, assuming it was just another kid from out of country. As 10:00 started to roll around, your students walked in. Some smiled, others chugged some unhealthy energy drink, some even chatted with you before finding their seats. As everyone found their seats, you looked out to see a new student. 

“You, new kid, come up front and do that cringe introduction.” You chuckle, emitting a chuckle from a few kids. He tilts his head in confusion, probably because he doesn’t speak English. Due to your gesture though, he assumes you want him to introduce himself. 

“You don’t already know who I am?” He whispered loud enough for you to hear in his first language. 

“Actually, no, I don’t.” You responded quickly as you clasped your hands before beckoning him to the front again. He was a little shocked that you spoke Korean so well, being he had no prior information on you. You were used to kids who thought they were all that but something about this kid who was ‘dressed to impress’ rubbed you the wrong way. He walks down to the front and rolls his eyes at you. 

“I’m Jeon Jungkook...23. Korean” He said in English the best he could. You smiled and introduced yourself. 

“I’m Professor Y/L/N, find your seat now.” You responded before turning to the large chalk board and continuing your lesson. After the two hour lecture, you dismissed class. Jungkook was asleep in the back, which made you walk up to him and nudge him. 

“Its lunch time, go eat.” You say as he wakes up. He shrugged off your hand before collecting his things. 

“Filthy commoner.” He mumbled as he shoved past you. You would’ve been insulted if it were true, but it wasn’t. You collect your things and head out to your favorite cafe. Being it was a Tuesday, that class was the only one you had for the day so you treated yourself to some coffee. You notice a bit of commotion outside, but you try to ignore it and sneak inside. 

“Y/N Y/L/N!! IS IT TRUE YOU’RE TEACHING JEON JUNGKOOK?!” 

“Y/N?!?!”

“DO YOU KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT JUNGKOOK?” 

You were confused by all the bombarding questions so you ran into the café and shut the door along with someone else. You turned to see the brat himself, Jeon Jungkook. 

“What mess have you fuckin brought me into?” You huffed as your back pressed against the door. 

“I didn’t do anything! I just went for a walk and got lost!” He huffed back at you. 

“Why are you so popular?” You asked as you held your hand on your forehead. 

“Ugh, you’re a horrible teacher if you can’t read a simple email. I’m the son of the owner of Mike tennis shoe company.” He responded. You rolled your eyes as stood up and walked in line, happy to see police shows up to wrangle up paparazzi. 

“What? Don’t care about my father’s company?” He mumbled. You go to order your drink and the barista looks confused. You realized you just ordered in Korean. You apologized before trying again. After you pay, Jungkook walks up and tried to get a drink. 

“C-coffee?” He basically asked, leaving the barista to ask a series of question. Jungkook looks over to you for help, making you chuckle. 

“Why should I help? You called me a shitty teacher.” You faked being offended which made Jungkook embarrassed. 

“I’ll pay for you.” He said, making you more than willing to help him. Being you already bought your drink, he just handed you a 20 like it was nothing. 

“That's way to much money Jungkook.” You said as you grabbed your coffee and went to hand him the money back. 

“It’s nothing to me and my father always says to help the less fortunate.” He said before drinking his coffee, which intern made you laugh. 

“You’re a brat but you’re a cool kid.” You say as you sit down and he follows. You quirk an eyebrow at him and he does the same back. 

“Who said you could sit with me?” Making him tilt his head. 

“Who said you got here first?” Jungkook barked back at you. You held your hands up in defense. 

“You’re going to have to get used to me being I will probably be your living translator...also whos your host family?” You waited for his response as you took a sip of your coffee. 

“I-...I’m not sure.”

“You didn’t check your email?” You teased like he did you which seemed to piss him off. 

“I can’t fuckin read English!” Which made you shocked. How could a school send this kid an email in a language he doesn’t know. You hold your hand out for his phone which he reluctantly gives to you. You mumble out the email before getting to the important part. 

“Your father has entrusted Professor Y/N with your care being they have the most experience with transfer students.” You were used to hosting kids but you thought someone of such class would be with, well you didn’t know, maybe someone the kid knew? 

“With you?” He almost sounded disgusted. You were actually upset that you didn’t read that email but you had a rough weekend. 

You sighed, “Look kid-”

“I’m not a kid!” He fussed. He was right. He said he was 23 and so were you. (Seems young for being a professor right, you’re just pretty smart and graduated early) 

“Okay, sorry. But look, you either live with me for the what, 3 months you’re gonna be here? Or ask your daddy for money to live in a hotel for 3 months.” You teased, making him sigh. 

“I’m not talking to him...that's why he sent me here.” Jungkook looked down at his now empty iced coffee. 

You stood up and patted his shoulder. “Then suck it up buttercup. Lets go get your shit and move you in.” 

“Want me to call an Uver?” The boy asked. (again, no free sponsors in this house).

“Nope. My car isn’t too far from here.” You smiled as you walked closer to the college campus. You turned before getting to campus and walked up to the car park. 

He pointed to an abandoned car that has been there for years, “Is that yours?” he teased. 

You smiled as you pulled out your key fob, clicking the unlock button to see a black lambo unlock. Jungkook stopped in his tracks and stared in awe. 

“Come on pretty boy, not scared are you?” You smiled as you hopped in. He scurried into the car with a wide smile. 

“Here I was thinking you were some poor teacher.” 

“I’m a professor first of all, second” you start the engine with a loud purr, “I have my perks.”  You smirked. 

Its been about a month since Jungkook has been moved in. One day y’all were sitting at the table, awkwardly eating dinner like you guys did every night when he got a phone call. You have never seen him smile since the first time he got in the car and besides that, he’s been a pain in your ass more than anything. Good thing is, he’s actually learned quite a bit of English and can order his food in public. 

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard him fussing. 

“No Dad! Please you can’t make me stay here! I am studying and doing my work! This isn’t fair!” He argued, pacing back in forth before heading to his room which was a guest room. “YOU CAN’T JUST KEEP ME IN AMERICA BECAUSE YOU DON’T WANT TO TAKE CARE OF ME. MY PROFESSOR ISN’T MY BABY SITTER, THEY HAVE THEIR OWN LIFE WHICH IS BETTER WITHOUT ME!....you were only right about one thing dad... I’m a bother to everyone around me.” Jungkook finished before in went quiet. You didn’t know what to say. He knew he was being difficult because he wanted to be. He wants you to be upset and kick him out so he can go home. He wants to be out of you hair. You walked to his room and knocked, and saw something you never saw you see. Tears. 

“W-what?!” He sniffled as he turned around and rubbed his eyes. You just walked up to him and turned him around, pulling him into a hug. He was reluctant at first before he finally gave in. 

“You’re a brat yes, but you’re not a bother. And if you’d stop distancing yourself, we might be able to make this extended time more enjoyable.” Was the only thing you could say. 

“I’m sorry I’m so mean to you...I just thought if maybe,”

“Maybe if I got annoyed enough I’d kick you out so you could go home?” He nodded to your question. 

“Welp, I’m a tough cookie to crack.” You smiled as you pulled away. 

“God we are the same age but you talk like a 80 year old.” He laughed as he wiped his face again. 

The two of you then go and talk about him and his life back at home. He explains how his grades are slipping and that is why he is forced to stay here longer. How he doesn’t like going to college because it’s not what he wants to do in life. Jungkook explained that he wanted to be a singer and even showed you a few songs he has covered and composed. They were really good in actuality. You agreed with him if he can get English down pat and pick his grades up, you’d help him peruse his career. 

-

It’s now been 3 months and Jungkook is basically speaking fluent English. He is also passing all your classes and is starting to open up to you a lot more. It was Spring break so you decided to go out with a few friends to get a drink. You invited Jungkook but he said he wanted to finish a paper he got an extension on so you just went out on your own. You and all your friends were dancing in the club and downing drinks like fish. You may have gotten a little too drunk being it was your first night out by yourself. Jungkook recently started to get more friends so you had some free time, but you haven’t gone out since he got here which is why you let yourself get as drunk as you did. It was towards the end of the night and the bouncer would not let you out with your keys due to how drunk you were. 

“Move you b-big bo-ouf...” You stumbled as you tried to squeeze past him. He grabbed your arm and pushed you back. You huffed before pulling out your phone and smashing keys in and calling whoever popped up. 

“Professor? Are you okay?” Jungkook asked, concerned as to why you called him after not responding to his text asking when you’d be home. 

“I-im dr-drunk and this fuckin cunt won’t let me out.” You whined as you still tried to squeeze past him. “Don’t-...Don’t fuckin touch me.”

“Look, I’ll get an Uver and come pick you up.” Jungkook said as he got his things and hung up on you. 

You looked at your silent phone with an angry expression,”...bitch” 

Jungkook came walking in and saw you sitting on the floor poking the bouncers leg. 

“Can you get this parasite off of me?” The large man asked looking down at me. 

Jungkook stoops down and helps you up. You stumble toward him before you turned to look at the bouncer and stick your tongue out. You also flipped him off before Jungkook grabbed your hand and brought you to the Uver. You sat by the window and he did the same. You two finally got to your house and he helped bring you up. You tore your arm away from him as you stumbled up the stairs. 

“I’m not a fuckin baby.” You grumbled as you immediately fell on the stairs. The male huffed as he helped you up. 

“Get OFF of ME Jackson!” You pushed him away as tears filled your eyes. “I’m not your fuckin victim anymore!” 

“Y/n?” Jungkook put his hands up and came to you slowly, “Its just me...Jungkook.” You finally started to calm down as you slowly tried to climb the stairs to your home. Jungkook helped you up and brought you to the couch. Jungkook grabbed a wet cloth and wiped the palms of your hand that were scrapped up. He then wiped your eyes and petted your head. 

After Jungkook helped you that night, there was this awkward air again. He felt like walking on eggshells around you. Who was Jackson and why did you say you weren’t his victim. Jungkook asked his classmates around campus and even a few teachers as best he could. He finally found a teacher who was willing to give him a small amount of information. 

“Now, I’m not going to say a lot because it isn’t my story to tell, but Jackson is Y/n’s ex....and let’s say he won’t be getting boyfriend of the year award.” Dr. Nick explained. Jungkook had enough information to make a firm decision. He was going to show you what a man should treat others like. He wasn’t your boyfriend or even considered you that much of a friend, but he felt guilty for living with you almost rent free (even though the school payed for his stay). 

Jungkook went to the store after he was done with classes and picked up a lot of food to make you dinner as payment for all the times you made him dinner. He bought you your favorite candy, or so he assumed because he’d always find the wrappers in the trash. He even bought you a gift card to the coffee shop you love and headed home. Being it was a Friday, he knew you would be home a little later. The more Jungkook thought about it, the more he realized he knew a lot more about you than he thought. Jungkook started to think about all the little things you did for him. How certain foods would pop up more after he mentioned them. How you would cook different meals just for his liking and make sure he had a decent environment to study in. How you would stay up late and call of work a few times just to help him study. Jungkook smiled as he started to mentally prepare himself for cooking. He also hoped he wouldn’t burn your house down because he had very little cooking experience. 

Jungkook starts cooking a dish he often enjoyed back at home: Spicy Ramen with rice cakes and kimbap. The button down shirt he wore to school was now slightly disheveled and stained. He rolled his sleeve up as he looked at the time-- 5 more minutes. Or so he thought when he heard your keys jingle at the door. He mildly panicked before setting up the food at the table and cleaning up quickly. He ran to the door as you finally started to open it and he stopped you.

“Huh?” You asked looking at his slightly sweaty face. “Jungkook if you’re having sex-” 

“AH No no no!! But I have to ask for you to stand out here for 5 more minutes...trust me.” You don’t know why but you did trust him, and so you stood there for 5 whole minutes. You thought about all the possibilities you could walk into: A girl or a guy running out half naked, your house destroyed, drugs...etc.  Jungkook came back looking a lot more put together and opened the door. You were hit with a mix of smells and were shocked. 

“J-jungkook, did you ? You didn’t- no you can’t cook can you?” You asked as you walked in and admired the kitchen. 

“I noticed you’ve been working more and I felt bad for staying here, even longer than expected... So I wanted to show you that I can be a proper man and treat another human being with respect.” 

“I don’t care the reason as long as it taste good...and it looks amazing Jeon.” You quickly wash your hands and sit down ready to eat. Jungkook sat closer to you which you didn’t think much about being the ramen was in a big shared pot. You start digging in but you try to avoid the kimbap. You didn’t know if it had seafood and you didn’t want to take a chance. Jungkook picked up a piece and brought it up to your mouth. 

“Made without seafood.” He smiled before you opened your mouth and took a bite. You smiled as you continued to eat. Jungkook ate as well before making the perfect bite. You even noticed it and tried to follow what he did, but before you could, he offered it to you. You were about to take in the food before you paused. 

“Where is all this coming from?” You asked before taking the bite You smiled and almost forgot you asked a question until he cleared his throat. 

“Well, like I said I felt bad for staying here and being a brat...I also wanted to give you a taste of my culture since you’ve welcomed me into yours.” He explained with a small blush and a smile. 

“Yeah I get that, but what's with that stuff?” You asked pointing to the flower bouquet lined with your favorite candies and snacks. 

“Oh...well the same reason.” He smiled. You were suspicious but you decided to finish eating. You heart was really warmed but he wasn’t that much of a brat. Yeah it was inconvenient on occasion, but he’s helped you a lot. He helps with chores and keeps his area clean, he is good company since you’re always alone, and well...he’s a pretty boy to keep around. Not to mention he saved you from that club when you were piss ass drunk. The two of y’all were cleaning up and things were going good...until Jungkook said the forbidden name. 

“Y/n...who is Jackson?” You almost drop the plate you were cleaning. 

“I fuckin knew you were up to something...Did you go through my room?! My fucking personal life?!” You started to fuss but by the look on his face, he didn’t. 

“When you were drunk, you called me Jackson and said ‘I’m not your victim anymore’...” He paused, looking down before looking back at you, “he hurt you didn’t he?” 

You stared at the wall, looking for the right words to say. “Yeah...he did. And I’m sorry I did that that night...but I’m not a baby. I don’t need your sympathy or your fuckin pandering.” You huffed as you started to leave the kitchen but he grabbed your wrist. 

“I’m not doing this to make up for him,...Nothing I can do can heal those scars. But I’m doing it to make up for me and my actions. And its my way of showing-....” Jungkook trailed off. 

“Showing what?” You said looking down at his hand holding your wrist. 

“It’s how I show affection to people I care about.” Jungkook said the words without really thinking. You were taken aback and pulled away from him. 

“Jungkook...I-” You started before he cut you off. 

“I know what you’re going to say. I’m not the first kid to say this am I? And you tell them all the same thing. ‘We can’t be together because I risk losing my job’ and all that...I know.” He said looking down at his feet. You were shocked he even had feelings for you. He was completely wrong because since Jackson, you kept these walls up and didn’t let anyone like you. You normally noticed when people would catch feelings and immediately turn them away...but this was different. You hadn’t realized he liked you because you were to busy pushing yourself away from him. You noticed you liked his presence more which is why you stayed later at work, to push yourself away. 

“Jungkook, that’s not it. I actually really care about you too. But there is the case with work that I don’t know if I can get passed...but I do appreciate this. And I appreciate you so much, but after Jackson...” You trailed off. 

“You don’t know if you’re ready and I understand that...but out of all the people I’ve met, your the one person I wouldn’t mind waiting for.” Jungkook admitted. He didn’t realize how strong he felt about you until he was in this moment. You also didn’t realize how strong you felt until you realized you moved closer to him. You always had your guard up around people, but you realized you were more venerable with Jungkook than with anyone else. You peered up at him to see his eyes were red from holding back his tears. 

You chuckled softly, “You’re such a baby.” You teased making him laugh before nudging you. 

“Yeah well this baby just cooked your dinner so whose baby now?” He retorted. 

“There’s that smile...”You mumbled, smiling as you two just stood there looking at each other. Jungkook’s eyes darted down to your lips before saying fuck it. He leaned in and held your cheeks in his hand. You felt this weird tension finally dissipate. You leaned in closer and placed your hands on top of his. 

“If you think about it, I graduate this year in a few months...so if we wait it out, you won’t have to worry about your job.” Jungkook reasoned as he pulled away. 

“That is true...even if you weren’t, I can always find another job.” You smiled, kissing him again. 

A/n: Sorry if this is a little rough, but I have been on a hiatus for about a year now. Writing is something I love doing but I’ve been so busy with school and have had so little motivation. I really wrote this whole thing within 2 days and I’m proud of myself. If you really liked it, hit that like and share button! If this gets enough love, I might open request again. 

[augment-techs]

“I’m—I’m fine. I’ve had worse.” for Ziggy and whoever you want

The blood soiled the clothes he'd been wearing for less than two weeks as easy as anyone else.  Since he'd been fifteen and drawn into the sentry ranks with almost no choice in the matter other than surrender or death, this was something he'd gotten used to. Waiting forever to get new or barely used clothing, only to have it damaged or ruined just after from his inevitably poor luck. Someone actually being there to care about Ziggy in the aftermath of having been inflicted with pain and injury was an almost entirely new experience, though. * Ziggy had been undergoing a lot of new experiences--same as every last one of the other sentries--since the Ranger Slayer ascended Drakkon's throne and set to work making an effort to make the world better. Though, maybe he had the other sentries beat, just the tiniest bit? Even his closest friends and mentors in their small, cloistered group of those not considered heartless, who actually cared about the people out in the world they were supposed to protect, didn't have a superior officer (a Red Sentry CAPTAIN) that was summoned by the Ranger Slayer herself into the throne room the same day as the transfer of power after all the speeches; that allowed Ziggy to tag along because, "Well, everyone will find out by tomorrow, anyway. You might as well put that motor mouth to good use." Ziggy had been under the wing of a goddamn Coinless spy. A General among the people that had been fighting the good fight since before Ziggy was born; who had been hugged by the last vestiges of Angel Grove's living Rangers (Dillon and Scott had to hold him along his shoulders when Ziggy had told them in the barracks that night, he was bouncing in his bed hard enough with such a big smile that it was like he was two years old again without a basic understanding of social constraints; Summer and Flynn just tried not to look too smug that all of them were getting free meals from their own Captains T.J. and Kelsey over having won a bet they'd all made about their favorite Red Sentry) and took his helmet off in front of Ziggy for the first time to introduce himself, not as Captain Williams, but as Eugene Skullovitch, "Skull for short, though. I think you've earned it, kid." Then Ziggy had been introduced to his Captain's best friend in the whole world (Summer had squeaked and almost shouted that she knew who Ziggy was talking about when he described him, "That was Bulk, Ziggy! THE Bulk!") and gotten the biggest hug in his whole life while being doted on by the vast bear of a man speaking of him in glowing terms that had Ziggy limp as a kitten blushing like mad, "Oh, you're the Ziggy I've heard so much about! Skull talks all about you on the wireless, but I think he might have been joking just a tiny bit when he said you're seventeen. Be honest, you're more like fifteen, right? All this hair and wiry muscle, you have to have been pulling his leg?" "Bulk," the Ranger Slayer, who insisted on being called Kim (jesus-fucking-christ) by anyone Skull called friend (which really just meant trust-worthy or not a complete asshole) among the ranks, had put a stop Bulk's mother henning with a gentle tap on the man's shoulder, "Not everyone is built like we were in the old days. I'm sure he'll get more meat on his bones as things improve." It had been awkward after, Ziggy walking with his Captain back to their rooms to find Ziggy's group of friends and the two other Captains; with all of them just gaping at the man's face like they'd never get the chance again. The days that followed with the rebuilding and the Coinless in the halls and taking care of the general populace that had to be told of the change in power and the defeat of Rita. It was tiring, but Ziggy had gotten to spend ten times as much time with his friends and just...not being an enforcer for Scorpina or Drakkon or the like, that he actually allowed himself to relax into the way things were going.  He'd signed up for night classes that some of the Coinless and retiring sentries were teaching. He'd been granted two days a week where he

didn't have to dress in his Black Sentry fatigues, could sleep in, could enjoy himself. Ziggy should have known that not all the new changes were appreciated by everyone. There were sentries, after all, who had been totally okay with the way things were with Scorpina, who were afraid of Drakkon like everyone else, but had been prepared to live their lives entirely by the pathological psychopath's way. There were those that had found Skull's being a spy to be an insult or actual betrayal. Those kinds of people always noticed that they could never address their issues with who they thought was the source of their anger; they never would have confronted Skull, even alone, even on his days off where he went out in leather jackets and jeans and could still beat anyone who bothered him into the ground, no problem.  So, Ziggy really shouldn't have been surprised to being decked the one day he'd gone out alone to check out some of the new apartments and prefabs he and his...friends? Could they really be called just that when they all kissed and touched more than any other groups Ziggy had ever seen?...were thinking of moving into since the barracks had become a little too impersonal to them. And, maybe, he was less surprised about the beating, than he was about how many people were doing it in tandem, with such efficiency as to render him unconscious within the first five minutes. * Yeah... Ziggy was more surprised to wake up, not in some filthy alley that had once been a desolate place to have battles with the walking corpses Rita Repulsa had walking around taking out everyone they could, but on a couch that could almost pass as new. His wiry frame tucked into blankets like some precious thing, head on a pillow that was so fucking soft it was unreal, the smell of the place a familiar comfort without knowing just where he was... The pain of his arm being swabbed with medical ointment. "OW OW OW!" "Ah, calm down you big baby," Skull practically grumbled like a much put-upon old dog answering the whines of a puppy that had stepped in a puddle and scared itself, "It hurts because it's working. This is actually good medicine and not that watered down crap the medics try and conserve." "How would you know that," Ziggy questioned with as much fizzy sass he could muster with a handprint around his neck, one eye changing color around the edges from the sucker punch that laid him out, countless cuts and scrapes, and a possible concussion that Dillon was gonna be pissed about when he arrived at Skull's apartment in the next hour when he got off his sentry shift, "You steal it out of the medical wing?" "I grow my own herbs, actually. Having a background in Classics means I'm good at recollecting things that might actually be useful when I need them. They might not be fully up to code, but they usually work anyway." Callused fingers dipped into a glass jar and traced the bruising Skull had already gone over, adding a warm, clear liquid that clung to the scrapes and coloring that his skipping stone, underwater eyes kept wandering back to; the feeling cool as mint and the smell mixing in with whatever Skull was boiling in the fireplace on a chain--not entirely unpleasant, but it still had Ziggy squirming in discomfort of being doted on in any capacity. "I'm..." Ziggy started again, trying to ignore the itching behind the eyes when Skull moved into checking the marks around his neck, spider-like and delicate and kinder still than he had any right to be with someone he'd had to defend without being asked, hauled back to his own home and been made to feed and water and treat better than someone like Ziggy deserved. (He'd done so much for Ziggy already, from the moment the Red Sentry Captain had kept him from getting a thrashing by a Yellow Sentry when Ziggy had screwed up one time too many and mouthed off; from the man getting him transferred into Dillon's squadron under supervision from Commander Park with Skull checking in every couple of days; from bailing Ziggy and his friends and ordinary people out of fires

and floods and death holes the cursed spirits of Repulsa found them in too many times to count.)  "Yes?" Skull prompted, pausing to wipe his hands on a wet cloth and wrangle the kettle out of the fire. He poured something that smelled delicious into an adorable little leaf and butterfly embossed teacup on a saucer with two little sticks of shortbread on the side. "I'm fine," Ziggy finally got out as he took the offering, taking a sip of something spicy and warm before trying to continue through the stopping point in his throat, "I've had worse." Skull took a huge swig from his own cup like it was nothing more than a shot and looked directly at the boy he'd made his charge, regardless of whether it was a good idea at the time, "And that last bit is exactly why I know you're not fine." The young man tried, he really tried to contest that, but his eyes were wet now, and Skull raised his hand to stall anything his famous motor mouth could pour out into the air between them. "But you will be."

[nowoyas]

Picks and Locks

A/N: Izumonth day 16! For the rest of the lineup, head over here!

Summary: You stumble across a suspicious student from another course, apparently trying to break into a random lock. Might as well help him out, right? (support course!Izuku x reader)

Warnings: uhhhh there’s a handcuff at one point and implied bullying but that’s bout it

Word Count: 2100+

"What are you doing?"

The question is simple—no accusations, no hostility, nothing but pure curiosity—but it still causes the boy in front of you to flinch violently, his quiet muttering cutting off in a quiet 'eep!'. His hands freeze on the padlock he's working with, and if you're not mistaken, that's a makeshift shim he's trying to wriggle into the lock.

"Are you… trying to pick that lock?"

You'd been wandering the halls of UA after classes finished for the day, having no cause to stay but not quite wanting to go home yet, only to stumble across what appears to you to be a fellow first year trying to break open the lock on a toolbox.

"I-it's not what it looks like!" he yelps, turning around with a clatter as the toolbox slips from his lap. "T-this is my toolbox, I just... Someone stole the key to the lock, so I was trying to get it open..."

The boy before you at least has the presence to look ashamed at his actions. "Sorry, I'll get out of your way."

You frown. "You're going to cut your hand using a shitty shim like that. Have you ever picked a lock before?"

His mouth hangs open, and eventually, he shakes his head. "Uh, no, I was—"

You click your tongue, sitting on the floor beside him and rifling through your bag for something. "Let me help you." When your hand closes around the leather casing, you rejoice silently, laying your lockpicking kit out beside you and pulling out a proper shim. As you begin to work it into the lock, you give the boy a solid once-over out of the corner of your eye.

He's kinda cute, in a weird, plain way. Freckles dance among the pink painting his cheeks—either he's naturally flushed, or he's blushing, you're not sure which—and unruly green curls sit atop his head. He leans in to inspect the work you're doing on his lock, brilliant green eyes taking in every movement of your hands.

You wiggle the shim as best you can, but the lock doesn't want to give. "Maybe it needs two...?" you mumble, reaching for another and sliding it down the other side of the lock. With just a bit more work, the padlock clicks open, the contents of the toolbox freed.

"Ha! Success!" you cheer, turning to hand the opened lock over to the nervously silent boy. The moment you do, you're startled by the feeling of something clicking in place around your wrist and jerking you towards him. His own wrist is jerked into place, followed by another click, and it takes you a very long moment to realize that some guy just handcuffed you to this poor, shy stranger.

"...um."

The perpetrator bolts, laughing and shouting something over his shoulder about having fun. The boy you're now attached to flinches, remaining silent; you'd be concerned for him if you weren't still processing the sudden errant handcuffing. He doesn't even seem surprised.

You wave your free hand in front of the boy's face. "Hey, are you okay? Are you used to random assholes handcuffing you to strangers?"

He flushes, flinching. The motion jerks your wrist a little. Fucker definitely cuffed you too tight. "N-no, I—sorry, you were just trying to help and—" Tears pool in the corners of his eyes.

"Woah, hey. You're okay. It's not that big a deal, right?" You flash him a reassuring smile, slowly dropping your cuffed hand to rest between the two of you. "Seriously, does that kind of stuff happen to you a lot? Do you want me to come with you to talk to a teacher? I'm sure someone will—"

"I-it's okay, really! Sorry for worrying you. H-here, I can help you carry your stuff to one of the support labs and work on getting that cuff off of you."

You work on packing up your lockpicking tools one-handed, keeping your smile present as the boy wipes his eyes. "It's no big deal! My quirk lets me manipulate metal with enough concentration. I can take a look at it real fast." You concentrate on the metal at hand (or wrist, in this case), trying to morph it enough to release your wrist...

...

.....

"Um. So that's an issue."

"W-what is?"

"Either these aren't metal, or my quirk's broken."

He peers at the handcuffs again, face going pale. "Oh no. I recognize these..."

You tilt your head, finally managing to get your lockpicking kit into your bookbag. "Elaborate?"

"I made them," he admits, though he doesn't look too pleased. "They're quirk-reducing cuffs. A prototype. Come on, I'm going to have to disassemble them if Saionji-kun still has the keys."

"'Quirk-reducing'?" you question as he leads you to an unfamiliar part of the school. "Not quirk-cancelling?"

"N-no, um, so... Some people have quirks that severely alter their bodies, right? In some cases, they just look different from normal. But some quirks cause their users to produce stuff that could be really harmful to them if their quirk got completely cancelled, like if they naturally have glass in their body, or maybe they naturally produce a chemical that's normally dangerous to other people. I-I'm trying to develop cuffs that restrain the wearer without potentially severely harming them if they have a quirk like that."

Your eyes light up. "I see! That's a really good point! How far along are these, compared to what you're going for?"

"Well... I'm still fine-tuning them," he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. "Right now, I've managed to find an alternate method of quirk cancellation than the cuffs already on the market, and I'm trying to see how much I can scale it back while still effectively subduing a villain."

He stops and maneuvers the door to the lab open, sparing you a glance. "I-it might be a little loud, Hatsume-san's inventions tend to be a bit... explosive."

The teacher, a shirtless man with some weird fucking helmet on his head, spares the two of you a questioning look as you enter. The boy leads you over. "U-um, I know I haven't put in a request to use the lab after hours today, b-b-but, um, it's kind of an emergency..." He bows, raising your linked wrists.

The teacher scoffs. "How'd you end up cuffed like that?"

The boy stiffens. "Um! Y-y-you see, it was an accident, a-and I lost the k-key, and—"

You raise an eyebrow, but for now, you remain silent. Maybe he's just shy, and that dude really was his friend playing a prank. "I'm really clumsy, Sensei," you lie, bowing as best you can while your wrist is still cuffed to his. "I was helping him with a broken lock and I messed with his cuffs without asking and tripped, and we have no idea where the key is."

"Well, I can't very well let you kids be stuck together. Have at it, just don't blow anything up or touch anything, even if it doesn't look like it'll explode."

You nod, and the boy leads you by the hand to a free workbench. You set his toolbox on the table in front of you, and he somehow managed to wrangle his arm around until you're stretched across the table. Helpfully, you push the toolbox within his reach. 

The boy sets to work immediately, lower lip sticking out in a pout as he begins searching for the right tools. "I-I'm sorry again, about all this."

"Don't be. So, you're a support course student?"

He nods, something like pain in his eyes. "Yeah."

"You don't seem very happy about it," you observe. Maybe you're more alike than you thought. 

The boy doesn't respond for a moment. When he does, it's so quiet you almost don't hear it over the noises of... Whatever the hell that pink-haired girl is doing in the background.

"I guess I'm not."

You frown. He looks wounded at his own words, intently focusing on unscrewing the cuff on his wrist as though his eyes aren't shining at the admission.

"I know I'm a total stranger, but you've got my wrist, you know. I can lend an ear, too, if you ever wanna talk."

He flinches like he's wounded at your offer, the motion jerking your wrist and torso unfairly. You wince as your chest hits the bench. "Ah! S-sorry, sorry! I just... I'm not used to people offering stuff like that. I wouldn't want to trouble you."

"I won't force you, but I think we might be similar. I'm not where I want to be either."

His eyes flicker to study your face before concentrating on the cuffs. "You're not?"

"Nah. I hurt my wrist pretty bad the day of the entrance exam and didn't perform half as well as I could have. I don't even know if I would have made it into the hero course if I were at my best, but now I'll never know, y'know?"

He swallows, nods. "What course are you in now?"

"I ended up in General Studies," you admit sheepishly. "I'm going to try to transfer into the hero course if I can, but in the meantime I feel like I'm missing out on so much. It fucking sucks."

He flinches, the screwdriver slipping from its drive from the motion. "I couldn't make it into the hero course either," he admits quietly. "It's always been my dream, but..." The boy falls silent, re-slotting his screwdriver and finally managing to unscrew the piece of his cuff that he was working on.

You frown. "I'm sorry to hear that. Are you going to try to transfer, or...?"

He shakes his head. "I should have given up years ago."

"Hey, don't say that! I'm sure you'd be a great hero. I think people who can build stuff like these cuffs are pretty amazing too, though. I don't have the mind for this stuff. Pretty much all I'm good at is fighting."

He shoots you a pained smile as he finally frees his wrist from the cuff, moving to disassemble the cuff on your wrist now that both his hands are freed. "You wouldn't be saying that if you knew me. Thanks, though. For trying to be nice."

You frown. "I'm serious! You're kinda timid, but you seem really nice. You can train to fight, but you can't teach someone compassion."

"It doesn't matter," he insists, and you swear you see a stray tear slip down his cheek. "I'm quirkless. E-even... Everyone's always said I can't be a hero like that, and they're right."

"What the fuck" leaves your mouth before you can even think about it. "That's so shitty! Who the hell's going around saying rude shit like that?"

He blinks in shock. "It's... not that big of a deal. I'm used to that sort of thing, so..."

"You shouldn't be," you frown. "It's not right or fair."

Your words don't seem to help the boy at all. He simply turns back to working on your cuff in silence with a sad look on his face. 

"If you ever decide you want to try to transfer, I could use a training buddy?" you offer, angling yourself awkwardly to pull out your phone and slide an empty contact over to him. "Or, you know, if you just want to talk. I don't really have a lot of friends in general studies, or at all, so, um."

The boy's face flushes. "Y-you, um, yeah! Sure! Sounds great, let me, um—" He pops off the piece holding the cuff in place on your wrist, allowing it to finally come loose and free your wrist. Just as fast, he's shakily entering his name and number into your phone. "—I uh, I never got your name," he admits quietly, words almost lost beneath the noise of the support lab.

You flush. "Oh! I'm so sorry, god, no wonder I struggle to make friends. [full name], it's good to meet you! Thanks for helping get the cuff off me, and uh. If you want, I can tell off that guy who stole your key and stuff for you?"

"Oh, no, that's r-really okay!" the boy yelps, sliding your phone back over to you. "M-My name's Midoriya Izuku. Thanks for helping me with my lock earlier."

"No, don't mention it! I should be getting home soon, but I'll text you, alright?" You roll your wrist, rubbing at where the cuff had dug into the skin slightly. Now that you're free, you slip your bookbag back onto your back, grab your phone, and give the Midoriya boy a little wave on your way out.

He watches you go, rubbing his own wrist with flushed cheeks.

Maybe it's worth giving transferring at least one shot, he thinks. If for no other reason than to have an excuse to train with you.

Tags: @tooloudarts​ @sapid-rose​ @xxangelpridexx​ @birds-have-teeth​ @icythotsenpai​ @warmchoccymilk​ @wesparklebitch​ @izoodles​ @fujimoribaby​ @my-bnha-things​ @denise-the-death-goddess​ @themerpenguin​ @sincerebubbles​ @fudobaby​

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Devotional Hours Within the Bible

by J.R. Miller

Jesus Dines with a Pharisee (Luke 14:1-14)

"One Sabbath, when Jesus went to eat in the house of a prominent Pharisee, He was being carefully watched." Our Savior did not refuse any invitation to a proper social function. His example is important for us. He wants His people to be IN the world, though not OF the world. He does not desire us to withdraw from men - but to live with them in life's common relations, only being careful all the while - that we live the true life as citizens of heaven. We are to be the salt of the earth - our influence tending to purify and sweeten the life about us. We are to be the light of the world - shedding brightness upon earth's darkness, helping weakness, comforting sorrow.

John the Baptist would not have accepted the invitation of this Pharisee. He was an ascetic. His theory of life required him to keep out of the world, witnessing against its evil, by withdrawing from it. But Jesus did not follow John in this. He gave men a new type of religion. His first public act, after returning from His temptation, was to accept an invitation to a wedding feast. His theory of life was that the truest and most effective protest against the world's evil - may be made from within, by living a holy, godly, and beautiful life - in the midst of the world's evil.

Jesus had a reason for accepting social courtesies. He wished to show the divine sympathy with all human life. We used to be told that He often wept - but never smiled. But we cannot think of Jesus never smiling. His whole life was one of gladness. He went among men - that they might know He was interested in their lives.

Life was not easy for most people in our Lord's day. Their work was hard, and they were not kindly treated by those who employed them. Their burdens were heavy. They were poorly paid. Jesus wanted them to know that He was their friend; that He cared for them, sympathized with them. He was ready for every opportunity to get near to them, that He might do them good. When He attended dinners, feasts, or weddings - He was not satisfied merely to eat and talk over the empty trivialities which are usually discussed around the table on such occasions. He found time always - to say some serious, thoughtful words, among the lighter things - which those who heard Him would not forget. Some of His most important teachings were given at feasts.

We scarcely know why this Pharisee invited Jesus to dine with him. We cannot suppose that it was really a cordial, friendly invitation; that he wished either to honor Jesus or to have the pleasure and privilege of entertaining Him and hearing His profitable conversation. Possibly it was a sinister motive which led him to give the invitation - a plot to get Jesus near to him, that he might catch Him in His words - or lead Him to do something or say something which could be used against Him. It may be that the presence of the man with the dropsy that day - was part of the same evil intention. It was on the Sabbath, and if Jesus would heal this man on that day, there would then be cause for criticism, such healing being considered by the Pharisees, a desecration of the Sabbath. Of course, the sick man may have come in of his own accord, drawn perhaps by the hope that Jesus would hear him. But there is room for the suspicion that his being present that day, was part of a scheme to get Jesus to violate the Sabbath rules, as they were interpreted by the scribes.

Jesus was not afraid of any such plots. He never thought about expediency or diplomacy, when an opportunity for doing good came His way. We are told that He "answering spoke." What did He answer? No question was asked Him, so far as we are told. Evidently He answered the thoughts of the lawyers and Pharisees who were watching to see if He would heal the sick man. Jesus is always aware of what is going on within us. Our thoughts are as open to Him - as our acts are to our neighbors! We should not forget this when our thoughts and feelings, are not what they should be.

The question Jesus asked brought up the subject of Sabbath healing. The Jews considered it wrong. But they did not care to answer Him just now - so "they held their peace." They wanted Him to heal the man, that they might bring their charge against Him. Jesus healed the man. Thus He teaches us to think for ourselves in matters of duty - and not to be influence by what we suppose other people will say. Too many people take their moralities largely from the opinions of others, doing this and not doing that, to meet the approval of others. But that was not the way Jesus did. His rule of life - was God's opinion. "I do always the things that are pleasing to Him." That should be our rule of life.

Jesus asked another question. "If one of you has an ox that falls into a well on the Sabbath day, will you not immediately pull him out?" This question His critics would not answer. They admitted that it was right to relive a dumb animal in such a plight. But if it was right on the Sabbath to help an ox out of a pit - how could it be wrong to help a suffering man out of his trouble on the same holy day? Surely a man is worth more than an ox, dearer in God's sight, and we should be more willing to relieve a man than an ox. Thus Jesus stripped the Sabbath of the disfigurement which human hands had put upon it, and set it forth in its beauty, what God meant it to be when He first gave it to man.

There was another lesson which Jesus wanted to teach that day. So He "put forth a parable." He had noticed that as they took their places at the dinner, the guests scrambled for the best places at the table, the seats of honor. There is much of this same spirit yet in the world. One sees it on railway trains, on steamers in hotels and boarding houses, almost everywhere. Nearly everybody wants the best - and scrambles to get it. Sometimes it is seen, too, where members of families try to get the choicest things on the table, the most comfortable seat, or the brightest, airiest room. Often bitter strife occurs, and harsh wrangles take place between brothers and sisters - each demanding the best. It will be wise to study this lesson very carefully and to apply it to ourselves - the kind of application we should always make first in studying Christ's words .

Jesus said, "When someone invites you to a wedding feast - do not take the place of honor ." We would say that common politeness would prevent any guest at a dinner from rushing for the seat of honor. It is understood in all refined society, that these favored places are for the guests who are specially honored that day. Even these guests, though they know they are to have the distinction, do not take their places unbidden - but wait to be invited to them. "But when you are invited, take the lowest place," said the Master further. Thus the religion of Christ teaches the most beautiful humility and courtesy. We are not too seek to be ministered unto - but to minister (see Matthew 20:28; Mark 10:45); not to get distinction and praise - but to live humbly and quietly .

Kossuth said that of all natural emblems, he would choose the DEW as the emblem for his life. It makes no noise, seeks no praise, writes no record - but is content to sink away and be lost in the flowers and grass blades, and to be remembered only in the fresh beauty and sweetness it imparts to all nature.

Those who always demand that they shall be recognized and that their names shall be attached to everything they do, have not learned the mind of Christ. Our aim should be to seek to have Christ honored, then to do good to others, and to be remembered only in the blessing and good which we leave in other lives.

"For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted." Jesus tells us, further, that those who look after their own honor - shall fail to be honored, while those who live humbly, modestly, without seeking distinction or praise, shall receive the best promotions.

The last teaching of the passage is also very important. "But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind - and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous." Mary Lyon used to say to her graduates, "Go where nobody else wants to go - and do what nobody else wants to do." That is another version of the teaching of Jesus here. The rich have plenty of invitations - Christian love should seek to give pleasure to those who do not have much of it. If you are at a party, and there is one person present who seems to get no attention, that is the one whom, according to our Lord's teaching here, you should be most interested in and should take particular pains to make happy. Among your neighbors are some who have many things to make up their enjoyment - friends, money, health, books, social opportunities. But there are others who lack in these regards. While you are to love all your neighbors, your love should show itself especially toward the latter class - those who have less and who need you more.

[theoreticslut]

Fic Review please! 📚 it’s called “Charlie’s Person Looking Friend” on AO3. It’s about Charlie Weasley going through his years of Hogwarts making friends and discovering he’s Ace/Aro and him having autism. It’s not long but it’s jam packed with heart!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22061044/chapters/52649431

First off, such a good story!! I think the title is so clever! I was honestly so confused about it at first, but after reading it it makes a lot more sense and it so cool! Titles are one of those things where it needs to be good and clever, but still make sense to the story which yours does perfectly!

Into the review - I noticed there were two chapters of it and I wasn’t completely sure if you wanted me to read both, but I did anyways so this is kinda broken down into reviews on part 1 and part 2 of it if that’s alright? Whenever you see the “Keep reading/More” just click on it! This got really long 😅

Chapter 1

For all his trouble to get his hair down to chin-level, this is where it had landed him. He was now stuck in a cold boy’s bathroom, missing potions class, with a comb buried and broken in his hair.

poor baby. I understand the struggle all too well but the way you wrote everything was so good! I definitely could understand his frustration even if I haven’t experienced it myself. I also love the way you wrote him feeling out of place! I just felt like I could understand exactly how he was feeling.

“We will fix it, and you can be on your way in no time, okay? No worries.”

this interaction with Blue was so pure 💗 it made my little heart ache and I couldn’t help but smile. I love how gentle they are with Charlie.

Charlie was always taught not to trust Slytherins. He'd heard the horror stories from Bill and his parents. But he wasn’t going to get out of this by himself. There was no way he was going to try to find Bill with that thing hanging off his hair, scraping at his neck.

While it made me sad that Charlie felt he couldn’t go to his brother, I do completely understand it. I also love that Charlie, even though apprehensive, still decided to trust Blue. I think it really goes to show just how comfortable he is with them from the very beginning.

I also really love the entire interaction/scene between Charlie and blue as they introduce him to their hair care products/accessories. I thought it was just so easy-going and sweet and really captured what it’s like when you’re making a new friend, especially one that you already feel comfortable with.

Charlie blinked, wondering why he was telling Blue all of this and why it felt so easy. Surely he should be telling Bill all of this? Writing to his parents? It what they said to do if he had a problem. He had no idea why telling Blue felt more okay.

I loved this part! It made me so happy that Charlie was opening up to someone and feeling comfortable about it. I also really liked how you wrote the confusion it causes too. I’ve definitely experienced talking to someone new and just feeling like I could talk to them about anything and it would be fine but wondering why it was so easy. You would think it would be easier to tell people you know and trust, but that’s not always the case and you just got it down perfectly.

“You seem to not have enough hair for a proper braid right now, but I could try to get those bangs out of your face for a bit,” Blue said, holding up the other dragon clips.

“My family was never big on braids having only one girl.”

“Oh nonsense, as long as the hair is well, long, braids can be worn by anybody. Come on I will teach you!”

Ugh!! I loved this bit of interaction so much! I love that Blue gives Charlie the dragon hair clips, I love that blue teaches Charlie how to braid, and I love that Charlie is just so excited about it all! It just makes me so happy all around ☺️💗

“I was out makin' a friend” Charlie explained, “it’s a person-looking one this time Bill, I promise. Mum told me to make those while I was here.”

Charlie baby 💗 you’re too cute and pure! I love this statement so much, you have no idea! I really just don’t know how else to say it except that I love it! It’s just perfect for the story and said at just the right time. It’s just a really great line!

Charlie felt marginally worse after talking with Bill than after talking to Blue. He never liked being scolded, and it seemed to bother him more than it ever did Bill or Percy.

🥺 ; Charlie deserves to be happy and not feel so terrible for just doing what he pleases. He never purposefully does anything wrong, nor does he really do anything wrong, and yet he’s just constantly feeling like he’s done something wrong and it’s so unfair to him.

One of his roommates Ben Copper...

is this inspired by hogwarts mystery by any chance? That’s the only place I’ve ever seen the name Ben copper and ngl it made me excited when I read that!! Even though he’s scared of a lot I feel like he’s such an amazing character!! If it’s not just ignore this bit!

“You’re right, I’m sorry. That would be awful. Your boots are really cool.” He said smiling down at her black leather boots, little bracelet charms attached to the laces which Charlie sat down to touch.

“Thanks, I like your clips, very punk rock.”

“Really? Cool! I liked them for the dragons, but my brother said they were kinda girly.”

“Punk rock can be girly too, but I think they suit you just fine.” She said, grinning at him. Charlie grinned back, sitting on the floor next to the pink-haired Hufflepuff.

lil excited Charlie is back and I am in love! Something about him getting excited and intrigued over the littlest things just makes me so happy! Not to mention how awesome Tonks is and how easily Charlie decides he wants to be friends with her as well! I’m very happy for Charlie that he’s making friends!!

But if Charlie's new friend was Ted and Andromeda Tonks' daughter, Bill guessed he had nothing to worry about.

===

Bill had something to worry about.

This made me chuckle. I love when people always think everything is fine and then it’s not fine. I also just thought it was written really cute 💗

...but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Charlie looked so happy. Bill never realized how unhappy he was before this friendship started. So Bill stopped trying to scold him, stopped trying to take care of Charlie how he thought he should.

love that bill is realizing he doesn’t have to be a full-in parent for Charlie anymore!! I know that’s the default setting when you’re the oldest child, but it comes to a point where you just need to be an older sibling instead of a parent and I’m glad Bill is finally doing that!!

Charlie also talked to Bill more, telling him in a big, happy rant what Tonks and he did that day.

Yay!! Sibling relationship healing a little! 💗

He didn’t talk about how his little makeovers happened, but those days Charlie was happiest.

awee Bill is noticing (sort of) what makes his brother happy and is accepting of it ☺️💗 I love that so much!! I love that Charlie is happier and finding himself and I love that Bill is just letting him figure it out for himself!

Bill was usually anything but unobservant so it surprised him he had taken so long to realize any of this. After that small revelation Bill started to pay attention to anything and everything about Charlie. Bill worried if he missed what made Charlie so happy aside from the obvious—dragons— what else could he have missed over the years of trying to wrangle all of his other siblings?

again, I completely understand what it’s like being an older sibling but Bill is doing such a good job at the moment!! Charlie definitely just needs someone to be there and give him attention and not only does he have Blue, but now he’s got his brother doing it too and I think that’s amazing!!

Charlie’s fear wasn’t for nothing. Going home for Christmas break only solidified his need for Blue and their space together. He was glad to be home, but the way he felt with Blue, and even Tonks and now Bill, was a stark difference from how he felt at the Burrow. He didn’t want to feel this way.

It makes me sad that Charlie doesn’t feel his best at home, but I know not everyone does. I just love how you’ve written it to make it so well known. I also love the fact that Charlie at least had one place he’s comfortable, even though it’s the people he keeps company with that make it comfortable.

“Mum” Charlie whined “it’s not like that. Her name is Tonks, and she’s my friend.”

“I’m sure she’s just a friend now, but we’ll see how you feel when you get older, huh?”

“There’s nothin' ‘just’ about it!” Charlie was raising his voice now, clearly angry. “She’s my friend. She’s important to me. Why do you act like friends don’t matter as much?”

such a well written section!! I love the writing and I love the conversation. It’s relatable yet powerful all at the same time. My family used to tease me all the time (still do a bit) whenever I made friends with a guy and we were close. It’s beyond frustrating and it just embarrassed me when there’s no need for it. So I love how you managed to get that across in the story so well!!

“Oh, Charlie” Bill sighed, closing the door slowly so it didn’t squeak too much.

“It’s not fair!” The little blanket lump said, the sound of little feet and fists repeatedly banging harshly against the wood floor. “It’s MY hair! What’s so bad about it?!”

“There’s nothin' bad about it,” Bill said, crouching next to Charlie and snuggling him so he didn't hurt his hands. “Mum just thinks certain ways about what boy’s hair should look like is all.”

whether Bill came looking for Charlie because he was actually worried and wanted to see how he was or if he just did so because he felt he had to being the older brother doesn’t really matter. I love that Bill was so caring of Charlie either way. I love that he’s so physically affectionate with him to comfort him. I also like how he tries to explain their mother’s side (not saying it’s right) but I just like that he’s not taking sides per se, just explaining to Charlie that it isn’t him that’s the problem. It’s just their mother’s mindset.

“You know what? We can pack that hair growth potion dad has. The one he used when Fred blew his eyebrows off.”

“Really?” Charlie gasped, looking up at Bill. He could see little hair locks of what was left of Charlie’s bangs popping out of his bundle. Bill held out his hands and Charlie crawled in his lap, blankets coming with.

“Yes, really,” Bill said rubbing his back. Charlie's little arms holding onto Bill for dear life.

ugh brotherly love 💗 this makes me so happy. I think it’s so well written and the imagery is just perfection!!

“And you know what? I’ll grow my hair out too. She’ll have to reckon with the both of us.”

yay Bill!! Such a good brother standing up beside your younger brother for something that makes him happy. Empower him and make him feel confident in who he is and what he likes! 💗💗

He didn’t fully understand Charlie, but Bill was starting to realize he didn’t have to. All he had to do was be there and let Charlie be Charlie.

Ugh!! This was so lovely! I just love how you wrote it. How even though he doesn’t fully understand he doesn’t have to. That’s not the point in any of it. Just being accepting and supportive is all that is needed. I feel like more people need to realize that. It doesn’t matter what you think about someone else or if you understand them. You aren’t them, are you? Just be respectful and try to be accepting please.

Chapter 2

Bill also started to get Charlie beauty related things for Christmas and his birthday.

awee yay!! ☺️💗💗

Charlie’s face when he opened Bill’s present, opened last at Bill`s request, made the tedious muggle money exchange and trip all the more worth it.

I love gift-giving! This completely described why too! Seeing the other person smile is just so worth it!!

Bill let out an ‘ouff’ as Charlie hugged him, snuggling into his chest.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Charlie squealed, “Bill! You’re the best!”

Bill chuckled, surprised at the hug as Charlie didn’t like contact often.

Bill is getting so much better with Charlie and it makes me so happy!! He’s standing up for him, giving him his attention, and he’s actually putting forth effort into their relationship!! All of it just makes my heart so happy! I honestly smiled so much as I read this bit!

Tonks and Blue also gave Charlie Christmas presents that year.

I don’t want to keep quoting so much of your story so the description will just be really long on this one; 1st - it makes me soooo happy that Charlie has two good friends now!! He’s happy and can share himself with people and it’s just absolutely amazing!! 2nd - both of them had such thoughtful gifts!!! I thought it was amazing and each was so them! Like it relates to their friendship with Charlie instead of being just some standard, “we’re friends and I love you” gift.

He watched carefully as Blue opened his gift to them. They pulled out the necklace Charlie had made, the matching earrings sitting next to it.

“The stones are from the stream near my house,” Charlie said.

“You made these?” Blue gasped and looked at the jewelry with a new reverence.

Charlie you sweet boy 💗 I think you just made Blue’s day with your gift and I couldn’t be happier. I love that he handmade the jewelry for them and put so much thought into it. It really shows how good of friends they are and it’s just so so so good!! Along with that, I LOVE blue’s rant after Charlie is dissing his gift to them because it’s “not nearly as expensive”  like I’m so glad they told Charlie how it is and how the price doesn’t matter but the thought of it does!! Just so well-written! 💗💗💗

“You’re my best friend Charlie.” They felt Charlie relax and chuckled, tilting his chin up. “No romance here. I am still aromantic asexual after all.”

I LOVE that you went into detail about what aromatic and asexual mean!! I feel like the way you did so was easy to understand and how it was just so casual. I hate to say that I’m not fully clear on everything regarding LGTBQ+ but reading the way you wrote this explanation helped A LOT and I didn’t feel dumb or embarrassed for not completely knowing it. So thank you for doing that!! I appreciate it so much and again it is just really well written!!

“They worked at themselves a lot. They were not always the best listeners, but they had kids and they forced themselves to learn to listen, be patient, and just be there. But I had to do work on my part too. If something was bothering me I told them. I had to realize they were humans too, and humans can be wrong. That was my part: telling them when I had an issue. It was their part to listen, and then try to do something about it together.

& this part!! Thank you for this! I love that you included it’s a two way street to understanding and acceptance. You can’t just expect people to know everything right away regardless of the topic and I like how you put it; My part is to say when I had an issue(but still realizing that they’re humans too), their part is to listen and then try to do something. I just really love how you put all of this in there. That it is an effort on both parties.

“I said my mum’s and I did research together when I came out right? Well, they do not bug around when researching something to do with their kids. I have whole books on this kind of stuff. I am a walking encyclopedia at this point.”

“Books sound nice. Do you think I could borrow them?”

I love this. I love it so much. I love the dynamic between Charlie and blue, I love how you’ve written everything, I love all the explaining you do. I just love this.

Overall, I am in love with this story. Thank you so much for requesting it to me. I’m not normally on ao3 (because I’m just very confused by it’s set up) but I’m very glad I got to read this!!

Like I said, I love how you explain everything. It’s clear enough to understand but it’s also not forced like what I usually see or hear. I like that you just state it as it is. I also love that the tone you seem to carry is that all you can do is educate others and hope they learn. I’m really not trying to be rude, but it seems like any time I’ve talked to anyone LGTBQ+  they expect me to know everything about them right off which is really annoying because I don’t even know everything about myself yet. So I really really like that you don’t seem angry or upset that people don’t necessarily know everything. It just really nice to have it explained calmly and not in a tone of judgement.

While there are times when the way you’ve written things (more like the descriptions/imagery/background info) is a little confusing, it’s not to the point where I can’t figure out what you’re saying. I feel like every writer has times where we know what we’re saying but we just can’t get it across clearly. I’m also just a bit tired while reading this so it could just very well be my own head not comprehending.

Either way, this was an amazing story!! Thank you again for requesting it to me ☺️ I love the way you’ve written everything and how you explain things well. I also like that it focuses on Charlie and has Bill as the main sibling in it because I don’t think I’ve ever really seen anything with Charlie besides being a very small part of it. It’s upsetting because he is one of their siblings. even though he’s in Romania, you can still write about him.

Anyways, I’ll stop rambling now. I really like this fic and I’m really glad you sent it to me! Thank you again ☺️💗

[citrinekay]

Okay, but Holden stealing all the covers and/or kicking and Bill calling him a little shit and pushing him out of the bed is definitely something we need, right? Right.

It would be a crime if I didn’t put this out into the world 😭💕 Enjoy:

The week’s worth of road school stops had been going incredibly well right up until Bill and Holden drove their rental car from the airport and into the quaint, downtown square of Corin, Wyoming to discover that there had been a fire at the hotel they were meant to be staying at in the early hours of the morning. A large portion of the hotel had been damaged either by flames or smoke, and though no one had been injured, the entire building was no longer suitable for anyone to stay the night. 

Bill and Holden were shunted over to the smaller lodging around the corner, more of a rural, bed and breakfast type establishment than a hotel in Bill’s estimation. 

They’re standing in the cramped lobby with the rest of the overflow from the larger hotel, most of whom are arguing with poor, overwhelmed clerks who are attempting to mitigate the mass chaos. 

“This is ridiculous.” Bill says, taking a drag of his cigarette. 

“Let’s just try to be patient.” 

Bill casts Holden a long stare, and doesn’t try to repress his sigh. They’ve been standing here for twenty minutes with the clock creeping closer and closer towards five o’clock when they’re supposed to be going to the precinct for their presentation. Once the class is over, they’re going to want to get straight to bed before the early flight in the morning. The tight turn around for these classes doesn’t allow for this kind of delay. 

“We’re going to be late.” 

“It’s four-fifteen.” Holden says checking his watch calmly. “We’re going to be fine.” 

Bill’s gaze cuts past the other disgruntled patrons to the desk. An employee from the first hotel is holding a binder with the reservations, trying his best to assist the clerk of the inn with finding rooms for everyone. 

“I wonder if it says somewhere in there that we’re FBI.”

“These other people need places to stay too.” Holden says. 

His placating demeanor is getting on Bill’s nerves right along with the incessant clamor of the crowded lobby and the stuffy air getting hotter from too many hot heads and running mouths. 

“That’s it.” Bill says, “Stay here.”

“Bill.” Holden protests, quietly. 

Ignoring him, Bill shoulders his way past the other people in line, drawing several stares and complaints. 

“Hey, man, you can’t cut the line.” A guy who is trying to wrangle his toddler gripes. 

Bill pulls his badge out of his pocket, flashes it without saying a word, and keeps walking. The rest of the crowd parts like the Red Sea until he gets to the desk. 

“Excuse me.” He says, drawing the two clerks’ attention up to him. “Any chance of my partner and I getting a room before four-thirty. We’ve got an important engagement at five.”

“Yes, sir, we’re doing the best we can.” The male clerk replies, “What’s your name?”

“Tench.” Bill says, sliding his badge across the desk. “Special Agent Bill Tench.”

The clerk’s mouth moves wordlessly for a moment, his face flushing with muted panic. 

“I, uh … I’m so sorry, sir.” He says, beginning to flip feverishly through the pages of reservations, “I have it in here somewhere. Just one moment.”

“I don’t care what kind of room it is.” Bill says, “It doesn’t have to be anything fancy, we’re only in town for one night. Just give me a key and I’ll get out of your hair.”

The inn clerk scans her computer screen for a moment before nudging the man. “We can give him this room. I know they just finished cleaning it.”

“Great.” Bill says, “Like I said, I don’t-”

“You said you had a partner?” She asks, wincing. “It’s only one bed.”

Bill sighs in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m sorry. But it’s the best I can do before four-thirty.”

“Jesus Christ. Fine.” 

“Again, I’m so very sorry.”

“It’s fine. Like I said, it’s only one night.” Bill says, extending his hand to take the key. 

“Here you go.” She says, placing the key in his hand. “Enjoy your stay.” 

~

Bill doesn’t tell Holden about the single bed situation until they’re driving back from teaching road school that evening. 

“Is that really the best they could do?” Holden says, disbelief rising his voice. 

“She said it was.” 

“Great. So who’s taking the couch or the floor?”

“Uh, not me.” Bill says, casting him a scowl.

“Oh, so I get to do it because I’m the rookie?”

“No. My back can’t take sleeping on the floor. It wouldn’t be pretty if I tried to get back up again.”

Holden shakes his head in disbelief. “What about my back?”

“You’re young and limber.”

“Limber?” 

“Sure.” 

“That makes me sound like … oh nevermind.” Holden mutters. 

Bill leans into the turn as he steers them down the road towards the small inn crouched at the end of the street. He peeks across the car at Holden, the intermittent flash of street lamps illuminating his face. He looks decidedly dejected about the prospect of sleeping on the floor, and Bill realizes he doesn’t like this look on him. 

When they reach the inn, the chaos from earlier in the day has died down. They make their way quietly down the narrow halls with their wooden floorboards that creak like an old farmhouse. Their room has a wooden door with gaudy, brass numbers and an antique handle that feels like it could break off in Bill’s hand. He opens the door to a small, yet neat room with a king-sized, four-poster bed covered in a pale blue, quilted duvet. He feels like he just walked into a rural honeymoon suite. 

Holden surveys the tiny loveseat in one corner of the room with a scowl. “I can’t sleep on this.”

He turns around to watch with pursed lips as Bill sits down on the edge of the mattress and tests the spring. 

“The bed is pretty big.” He says.

Bill casts him a narrowed glance. “Yeah.”

“King sized.”

“I think so.”

Another beat of silence. Holden blinks at him. Baby blue eyes, adorable, persuasive. Bill sighs through his nostrils. 

“Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”

“It doesn’t seem fair, does it?” Holden asks, spreading his hands. “Why should I sleep on that tiny couch when there’s plenty of room in the king-sized bed.”

“You want to share a bed with me?”

“Please, Bill, stop being a prude.” Holden says, “Were you ever in the boy scouts? We used to share a sleeping bag, for God’s sake.”

“Okay, fine. I get your point.”

“I’ll stay on my side and you can stay on yours.” Holden says, “It’ll be fine.”

“Will it?” 

“Yes.”

Bill sighs, and raises his hands. “Okay. Don’t make me regret this.” 

“You won’t even know I’m there.”

~

Bill stares up at the ceiling in the darkness for a long time after they crawl in bed. He’s used to sharing a bed with someone, and feeling someone’s body heat merging with his own. His wife’s body heat. That’s what he’s used to. The way Nancy breathes, the way she barely moves in her sleep. 

Holden, on the other hand, starts twitching the minute he drops off into slumber, causing Bill to spend the next ten minutes wondering what he’s dreaming about. Holden probably dreams about work, he decides. What else does this kid think about? He has a girlfriend, sure, but he’s so focused. So naive at the same time. 

Bill sinks down against the pillows, and rolls over onto his side so that he’s facing Holden’s back. When he catches himself staring at the hitched rise and fall of Holden’s shoulders, he rolls over again to face the wall. 

Go to sleep. Don’t think about it. 

After some concerted effort, he does, but not for long. 

He’s not sure what time it is, but it’s pitch black and he’s cold. Shivering actually. Keeping his eyes shut, Bill reaches down to grope for the blankets. He’d fallen asleep with them around his waist, but his patting fingers can’t find the sheets. 

What the fuck? 

With a grunt, he rolls onto his back and cracks his eyelids open to scan the foot of the bed. The blankets are pulled diagonally across the bed, off his body, leaving only his feet halfway covered up while the rest of him is exposed to the low, mid-October temperatures. As his eyes open wider, sleep stripping back into annoyed realization, he sees Holden rolled onto his belly with the blankets pulled over top of him. One hand clutched the edge of the duvet under his chin. Caught red-handed. 

Bill scowls in disbelief, and reaches over to grab onto the edge of the blanket. The sheets pull freely from Holden’s loose grasp, but only stretch so far before getting caught up in his legs. 

Giving a forceful yank, Bill pulls the bunched blankets free, and disturbs Holden’s sleep. 

Holden rolls onto his side, feet kicking against the tugging on the blanket. He groans in the back of his throat and frowns, but he’s still half asleep when his flailing foot lands directly on Bill’s shin. 

“Ow, fuck!” 

Holden’s eyes spring open, and he peers through the darkness as Bill curses loudly under his breath. “Bill … what’s going on?”

“You stole all the blankets, that’s what going on.” Bill hisses back, giving the sheets another determined yank. 

Holden grabs onto the other side of the blankets to cling to his portion, and whines, “Bill, stop.”

“Then you kicked me in the shin, you little shit.” 

“I did? I’m sorry, I-”

“‘You won’t even know I’m here’.” Bill mocks, yanking the blankets over his shivering shoulders. “Unbelievable.”

“I said I was sorry!”

“I told you not to make me regret this.” 

“I didn’t mean to.”

Bill mutters another curse under his breath as he rolls over to squint at the clock. “Jesus. It’s only two o’clock. It’s been four hours and you’ve already stolen the blankets and kicked me in the shin.”

“Can we please just go back to sleep?” Holden’s voice is muffled under the blankets as he pulls them up over his head to block out Bill’s complaining. 

“This is going to be the worst night’s sleep of my life.”

“Yeah, it will be if you keep whining.”

Bill heaves out a great sigh, and sinks to his back against the pillow. Tucking the blankets up over his chest, he presses his eyes shut and tries to go back to sleep. 

Three hours later, Holden steals the blankets again. And wraps himself up in them so tightly that it’s like unraveling a burrito when Bill viciously yanks them from around his limp, blissfully contented limbs. 

“You’re shitting me.” Bill gripes. 

“Fuck. Sorry.” Holden mutters, still half asleep. 

“I’m going to kick you out of this bed. You’re going to make me fucking do it.”

“I said I was sorry.” 

“You said that the last time! For the love of God, how many blankets do you need?”

“I don’t know. I’m not used to sleeping with anyone.”

They both fall silent as that confession wanders into the darkness. Bill sighs as he settles back against the pillow. 

“I thought you had a girlfriend.”

“I do. We like our own spaces.” 

Bill frowns. “So you’ve never slept with her? I mean, in the same bed?”

“Yes, I have. Once or twice. She didn’t shout at me.”

“I bet you didn’t kick her in the shins either.”

“That was an accident.”

“Sure.” Bill mutters. 

Holden rolls over onto his side, and Bill can feel his eyes on him despite the shadows. 

“What?” He asks. 

“Nothing. I was just thinking …. Don’t you miss sleeping in bed with Nancy when you’re gone?”

“I suppose so.”

“I’m used to sleeping alone, but … it’s kind of nice to not have to.” 

Bill’s chest squeezes, and right now he can’t think of a scathing retort. Holden sounds so innocent and hopeful. It’s difficult to stay mad. 

“I’ll try not to kick you again. Or steal the blankets.” Holden whispers, “Promise you won’t kick me out?”

Bill sighs. “Fine.” 

“Thanks, Bill.” 

They both fall back to sleep again, and Bill is relieved to discover that he isn’t woken up again until the alarm clock starts going off at seven o’clock.

 His eyelids crack open to the early morning sunlight slanting past the yellow, gingham curtains, dust motes sailing through the air above the bed. The temperatures must have risen overnight because Bill isn’t shivering anymore despite Holden having stolen the blankets - again. 

Bill turns off the alarm clock, and pushes up against the pillows to light a cigarette. While he smokes, he quietly watches Holden’s serene expression of sleep, half-covered by the bunched edge of the duvet tucked up against his chin and mouth. His hair is all disheveled, little curls winding stubbornly against his forehead. 

Bill clenches his jaw against the warm rush of fondness in his chest, and tells himself to stop it. This kid just spent half the night stealing the blankets and kicking him in the shin. What’s there to be sentimental about? 

After he finishes off his cigarette, he reaches over to give Holden’s shoulder a coarse nudge. 

“Time to get up, sleeping beauty.”

Holden’s eyelids flutter open against the sunlight that glistens off the blue in his eyes like a late afternoon sky. 

“How are you feeling? Rested?” Bill asks, climbing out of bed. “I sure hope so. You stole the blankets again.”

Holden’s arms creep out from beneath the blankets to push them away from his chin and down his chest. He stretches, casting Bill a sheepish smile. 

“Sorry.”

“You said that already. I’m never doing this again.”

“Well, hopefully we won’t be in a situation where we have. You snore very loudly, you know?”

“No, I had no idea.” Bill says, casting him a snide glare. 

Holden sits upright in bed, and stretches again, causing his shirt to ride up his belly. Bill catches a glimpse of pale skin and a faint trail of gleaming, auburn hairs disappearing beneath the waistband of his trousers. 

He glances away as he pulls a change of clothes out of his suitcase. 

“I’m gonna hit the shower really quick so we can get going.” He says, “You want to stop for breakfast before we leave?”

“We can get something on the plane.”

“Yeah, okay.” 

Bill gathers up his clothes and toiletries, and carries them toward the bathroom. 

Holden’s gaze quietly follows him as he scrapes a hand through the disheveled waves of his hair and stifles a yawn. 

“Bill?” 

“Yeah?” Bill asks, pausing at the doorway of the bathroom.

“Thank you for not making me sleep on the couch.” Holden says, “And for tolerating my … blanket thievery.”

Bill purses his lips against the smile that wants to rise. “I should have kicked you out like I said I would.”

“But you didn’t.” Holden says, his eyelids lowering coyly. 

Bill sighs. Why can’t I say no to you? 

“So, thank you.” Holden adds, clearing his throat. “I actually do feel very rested.”

Bill nods, and slips into the bathroom. Easing the door shut behind him, he stands still and stares at the little hand-painted blue flowers blooming on the tile floor. 

He can remember rolling over some time in the night, half-asleep and weighed down by dreams, his body instinctively lured towards the warmth beside him. He’d awoken with his arm draped over Holden’s ribs. Or had he? It’s all so vague, it could have been a dream. Either way, he’d rolled away immediately; but now, he can’t help but wonder if Holden remembers it too. Maybe they had both dreamt a bit too much last night.

[nocteverbascio]

Love takes time (we have it) (42/100)

Pairing: Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell Summary: Margaery has always been in love with Sansa and somewhere along the line Sansa fell in love with Margaery. Neither of them know how to say it. But actions speak louder than words. A/N: kind of a follow up to the previous one where you see some olenna sansa interaction ;)

ao3 link

42. You didn’t have to ask

Sansa walks arm in arm with Margaery to meet Olenna. The fiery Queen of Thorns truly lives up to her name. She waits for no introductions.

Olenna is sitting in a lovely summer dress, modest and comforting, underneath a large billowing hat looking unenthusiastically as Margaery’s mother tries to wrangle her granddaughter unsuccessfully. Then she looks up to see Margaery and Sansa.

“Well, if it isn’t the Stark girl,” Olenna lets out with amusement as she holds out her hand.

Sansa guesses she should take and does, shaking it nervously.

“Strong handshake for someone who looks utterly mortified,” Olenna calls out. Sansa feels her cheeks blush. She looks to Sansa’s arms. “At least you have manners to bring a gift. But I’m well past my prime to receive flowers from a Stark. You should be giving them to my granddaughter with how close I hear you two are. Margaery take them and put them in ice water. Poor things are probably suffocating from the humidity of this forsaken city.”

Sansa is taken aback at how straightforward Olenna is and she glances back to Margaery, who stares with an indignant look on her face that screams disapproval and it’s adorable. Sansa lets out a chuckle against her better judgement and it catches everyone’s attention.

Margaery eyes her grandmother quickly as she sits up straight in her chair, narrowing her eyes at Sansa.

Sansa’s eyes widen. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she stammers out quickly. “I’m just--very refreshed by your understanding of winter roses. And your commentary on the city is quite...agreeable.” Sansa hopes that her honesty is enough for Olenna to at least tolerate her. She really shouldn’t have laughed, but the woman was far from wrong.

Olenna tilts her head curiously at Sansa before looking at Margaery. “Margaery, the roses,” she reminds.

Margaery’s eyes widen as well and she takes the winter roses. Unable to stop herself from smelling them as she does. She smiles. “I’ll be right back.”

Sansa shares a gentle smile with Margaery before she heads off. When she looks back to Olenna, the woman stares at her with a smirk on her face. “My granddaughter adores flowers; it’s a shame she isn’t given them more often.”

“You should see her on Valentine’s day,” Sansa says affectionately recalling the last couple of years. “She gets so many roses, she actually gets sick of it.”

“Does she now?” Olenna asks curiously. Sansa nods. “Alerie, why don’t you return the child back to Leonette now? It seems to be fussing for its mother.” Alerie huffs as she lifts her granddaughter up and carries her off. Olenna now points to the empty seat for Sansa to sit down.

It starts off feeling like a conversation. Nice pleasantries asking about how her parents are and how Winterfell is thriving. A bit of vague reminiscing from Olenna about her time there, which surprises Sansa. But then it turns into a bit of an interview.

Or at least that’s how Sansa feels.

Margaery is luckily there, pulling up a seat right between them, holding onto a bottle of wine for Olenna.

Olenna asks about her hobbies, her work, her classes. Her eyes remain keen on her as she assesses what she likes and dislikes. Sansa sticks to her guns, as shy as she feels under the Olenna’s gaze, she remains honest.

Margaery sticks by her side the whole time, smiling encouragingly and also interjecting at time.

“Grandmother, the way they teach history here is so boring,” Margaery complains gently. “You can’t expect Sansa to enjoy it like you do.”

“Oh, do you not enjoy it either?” Olenna sharply asks.

Margaery rolls her eyes, seeing this coming. “Whether or not I enjoy it doesn’t matter because I do my best to excel in it.”

“That’s not what I asked, dear granddaughter.”

“To be candid, no, Westerosi history is built on the war of seven kingdoms when a love affair went wayward,” Margaery says flippantly that Sansa giggles.

Olenna sits there aghast. “You mustn’t say these things so casually. There are direct descendents of the seven kingdoms still alive. Our family being one of them. And your family Sansa.”

Sansa blushes. “Of course, ma’am.”

Olenna nearly chokes on her wine. “Ma’am!”

“Oh, she doesn’t like being called ma’am,” Margaery leans into Sansa. “Says there’s insincerity and malicious intent.”

Sansa shrinks in her seat. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I should call her.”

“Her is still sitting right here,” Olenna reminds before looking at Sansa thoughtfully. “You can call me Olenna.” Sansa looks to Margaery for approval and even Margaery is a bit surprised but she smiles at Sansa. “Considering you’re not my granddaughter, you needn’t call me grandmother.”

Sansa blushes. “Of course, ma--Olenna.” She feels a bit of grumble in her stomach and realizes that she’s spent the majority of the morning getting ready that she hasn’t eaten this whole time. She looks to Olenna though, feeling too impolite to get up and get some food. She readies herself to continue the conversation.

“Margaery, why don’t you get something for Sansa to eat? It’s obvious that she’s famished,” Olenna sharply asks, as if Margaery should’ve known.

Margaery bites the urge to roll her eyes. “You’ve been dominating her time, she hasn’t really gotten around to the rest of the cookout,” Margaery playfully points out. She pours Olenna another glass of wine before standing up.

Sansa reaches for Margaery’s hand to stop her from going far and Margaery looks at their hands before quizzically at Sansa. “Do you mind if I come with you?”

Margaery looks to her grandmother. Olenna smirks. “I’m sure I can find another in-law to terrorize,” she suddenly stands as well. “It’s high time I find Loras and that Baratheon boy.”

Sansa stands as well. “It was a pleasure talking to you, Olenna,” she genuinely says.

Olenna doesn’t say anything; she smiles at Margaery and brings the glass of wine up to her lips before walking off.

Margaery tugs at Sansa’s hand to walk with her. As they step away, Margaery takes a sip of the wine right out of the bottle. “You know, you didn’t have to ask.”

“Hmm?”

“To come with me,” Margaery clarifies. “I would’ve much preferred you coming with me than leaving you alone with my grandmother. Sometimes she can be a bit much.” There’s a brief exhale before she takes another sip.

Sansa pries the bottle out of Margaery’s hand, just to take it. “I enjoyed it. Your grandmother is quite...interesting.” Margaery chuckles. “I’m serious. She’s a bit intimidating, yes, but she’s quite refreshing.”

Margaery laughs in agreement. “She’s quite something else.” She brings up Sansa’s hand to her lips and kisses it. Sansa warms. “I think she likes you.”

“You think?” Sansa brightens at the comment.

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Well, she doesn’t like many people from what you tell me. So it makes me feel good if she likes me.”

Margaery shakes her head. It’s hard not to like you. “Come on, we’ve got a three tiered cake you can devour.” Sansa preens and presses against Margaery as they keep walking.

[lordofthebigtimesupernatural]

Hello! Would you write 20 year old Keith, no longer living with shiro (because college) going back for a weekend and getting sick/hurt and his father takes care of him and reminisces about Keith's childhood?

Hello there! Thank you for your patience and I had a lot of fun with this one. Poor Keith is homesick and Shiro is reminiscing about Keith’s childhood. Hopefully, this is the start of a roll and I can get out a bunch of asks. Thanks for sending this prompt nonny! Enjoy!

x.V.x

              Keith was a perfectly independent man at the fresh age of twenty-five.

              He was halfway through getting a teaching degree in college. He had his own apartment and he even had a boyfriend, who seemed to be sticking around. He paid his bills, received benefits from his military service, walked his dog and made dinner all by himself.

              In fact, Keith had been an independent man since returning home from service at twenty-three. He had only spent about six months at his dad’s place before moving into the dorms (which had been a complete nightmare).

              All in all, Keith was an independent man who did not need a parent to take care of him.

              Or, that’s what he kept telling himself.

              Life was good; it really was. His boyfriend was in the top five sweetest people in Keith’s life next to his father and his dad. He was just beginning to understand that this relationship might just be what love was like. His dog was great (even if he missed Red with all of his heart), school wasn’t too much of a challenge and he even had a small job as a teaching assistant at a dance studio.

              His choice in careers had been rather shocking to everyone. Everyone, even Shiro, had expected Keith to become a pilot of some sort. So, they were rather shocked when Keith announced that he wanted to become a dancing instructor. Better yet, Keith wanted to become a dancing instructor for kids with special needs or disabilities. However, everyone had supported Keith’s decision, especially Lance who was always telling Keith to let him know when Keith decided to open his own studio, and Lance would become his business partner in a heartbeat.

              Life was good, but Keith often found himself missing his old life from time to time. He missed his father’s constant presence. He missed the smell of fresh coffee in the morning, even if he despised coffee himself. He missed his grandparents coming over almost every day and annoying his father to no end. This was what it was like to be homesick.

              Keith’s shoulders slumped in realization. He was homesick.          

              His dad wasn’t really all that far away. He was about six hours or so from where his dad still lived. It was a bit much to try and drive home at 2pm. Besides, his dad didn’t need to be bothered with these silly worries that Keith had. He knew that he had to simply grow up. He couldn’t rely on his dad forever.

              So Keith continued on, not finding the time to take a trip down to his childhood home, to visit his dad, for several weeks. The more and more that Keith went on, the more stressed he was becoming. His moods were slowly dropping, despite his friends’ and boyfriend’s attempts at cheering him up. It was getting harder and harder to keep his sadness at bay. He found his insomnia beginning to return and his appetite decreasing.

              Even Keith’s students at the studio had noticed his sudden depressed moods and while their attempts at cheering up their teaching assistant were adorable, even they couldn’t keep a smile on Keith’s face for long.

              It was then that his boyfriend knew he had to do something. Something to bring back that spark in Keith’s eyes. Quietly, he slipped out of the room during one of the rare chances where Keith had managed to fall asleep, due to exhaustion, before dialing a familiar number on his phone.

              “Takashi? Hi, I think we need to talk.”

x.V.x

              “Keith, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” Shiro was smiling despite his words. He resisted the urge to take even more pictures than he already had. Keith was already plenty embarrassed for a ten-year-old. On the ground, from where he was pouting, Keith crossed his arms over his chest and merely sighed loudly. Beside him, Lance giggled but continued with his stretches.

              “Yeah, Mr. Grumpy pants. If you wanna do ballet, you gotsta loosen up. You’re too stiff when you’re grumpy.” Lance announced after he finished stretching. His own leotard was a deep, royal blue with lots of sparkles and glitter adoring it. Lance looked absolutely drop-dead, adorable in his leotard. It was fairly obvious that he was far more comfortable in the ballet studio than Keith was, and that this was his element. Shiro always remembered watching Lance’s gymnastic performances and he had to admit that the kid had talent.

              “No. I’m here and that’s enough,” Keith grumbled, not bothering to move from where he had planted himself on the floor, even when the teacher had arrived. His own leotard was plain black, without any sparkles or added to it. Just the way that Keith liked it. It was looser than what most dancers would have worn, but Keith vehemently refused a skin-tight suit.

              Lance rolled his eyes but Shiro was surprised when Lance didn’t fire back an argument. Instead, he smiled slightly and headed over to the teacher with a bright smile. The other children all flocked to the beautiful dancer, and even Shiro smiled in greeting to her, but Keith was seated firmly on the ground.

              Sighing, Shiro knelt down.

              “Hey buddy, you don’t have to sign up for ballet if you don’t like it,” Shiro said softly, as he tried to get Keith’s attention. Keith puffed his cheeks out in a pout and shook his head. “Come on buddy, it’ obvious that you’re very uncomfortable and that you don’t like this. We can go home, before class starts. How about that? You and I can go home and cuddle up with Red and watch movies on the couch?”

              For a brief moment, Keith looked as if he really wanted to go with Shiro, but in the end, he shook his head once more. “No daddy, I can’t.”

              Feeling like this was going to take a while, Shiro finally sat down on his butt. “How come baby?” He gently stroked a finger up and down Keith’s cheek. For a split second, Keith’s eyes glanced over at Lance and Shiro almost thought the worst.

              Could his baby boy, have a crush on Lance? Was he doing all this to impress a crush?

              Shiro was too young to be worrying about boyfriends. Keith was too young.

              “Lance really likes ballet, and he’s been wanting to try it,” Keith mumbled quietly as he fiddled with his thumbs. Shiro felt his heartbeat beginning to pick up in speed. “But some kids at school were making fun of him for it. Said it was for stupid girls. Not boys.” Keith admitted quietly and suddenly Shiro’s heart began to crack. Oh.

              “They made Lance really sad and he didn’t want to be the only boy, in case they were right, so that’s why I gotta do this daddy,” Finally, Keith looked up at Shiro and Shiro was stunned at the fire and passion in his son’s eyes. It made Shiro fall in love with his son all over again. “So Lance won’t be alone and he can be happy, and to show those dummies that ballet can be for boys too.”

              “Oh, my little star,” Shiro beamed proudly at his son, before scooping Keith up into his arms. “You have no idea how big your heart is. Never, ever, lose your heart baby, no matter what happens, okay?”

              Keith giggled as he tried to wiggle out of his dad’s arms. “Okay, daddy.” The two sat in a quiet embrace until the teacher began to call for her students. Keith wriggled some more. “Daddy, I gotta go. Put me down now.” Reluctantly, Shiro put his son down with a kiss on his forehead before Keith was walking over to Lance and the other kids.

              Never lose your love, Keith.

x.V.x

              Shiro smiled to himself at the memory that had come to mind as he leaned against the wall outside of the rehearsal room. Of course, only once Keith was old enough did he and Shiro have a good laugh on how ballet was not Keith’s thing. Though, it had been the start of Keith’s passion for music and eventually led him to other forms of dance that Keith enjoyed much more.

              After receiving the call from Keith’s boyfriend, Shiro had packed up for a weekend trip to his son’s home the very next day and left bright and early in the morning. He’d been dying for a reason to visit Keith or have Keith visit him, after not seeing his son for nearly six months straight. Shiro knew that as Keith got older their time together wouldn’t be as much as it was when Keith was a child.

              He grew homesick without his son, despite staying home.

              Apparently, Shiro hadn’t been the only one and upon hearing of Keith’s sadness, he was ready to drop everything.

              He’d gotten into town about an hour ago and after dropping off his stuff at Keith’s and welcoming Keith’s boyfriend with a hug, Shiro had driven all the way to the studio where Keith taught at. Granted, Shiro was aware that Keith was a teacher assistant and while he had seen pictures and some videos, he had never seen Keith teach in person.

              Before greeting Keith, Shiro wanted to take a few moments to observe his son and watch him. To see the man that his little boy had grown up into.

x.V.x

              “No Daddy,”

              “No?” Shiro sighed tiredly. It was late in the evening and Keith still wasn’t in bed. Keith’s bedtime had passed about three hours ago, and the boy had yet to even get into his bed.

              “Daddy, no,” Keith repeated. His butt was firmly on the ground, and his face set into a pout. He was missing his pajama pants but Shiro had managed to wrangle a shirt on him. Keith had been learning to become very vocal since uttering his first words a little over a month ago. Before Keith barely even breathed too loud but now he was talking every day and while Shiro was thrilled with happiness that Keith was talking, Keith’s favorite words seemed to be “Daddy” and “No.”

              Not only that, but Keith’s sentences can still sometimes be frazzled and Shiro didn’t always understand what Keith was saying which frustrated Keith.

              “Keith, you know that bedtime was at eight o’clock,” Shiro tiredly explained to the four-year-old. “And what time is it now?”

              “No time daddy!” Keith shrieked. Shiro winced, forcing himself to take in a deep breath. He had expected outbursts and tantrums like this. Of course, he did. That’s how kids worked. Keith might be one of the most well-behaved children that Shiro ever knew (and no, of course, he wasn’t biased) but even Keith wasn’t immune to temper tantrums and fits.

              “No, Keith’s it’s past eleven o’clock,” Shiro said firmly, hands on his hips when Keith slapped the floor. “Way past your bedtime mister. Past daddy’s bedtime too.”

              “No,” Keith slapped the floor again. “No. No. No.”

              Sighing, Shiro bent down to pick Keith off the floor, only for Keith to meltdown in a fit of screaming and crying. His heart would twinge with every shriek, but he was honestly just so exhausted right now. Keith must be tired.

              “Keith, no. Don’t hit people.” Shiro grunted when Keith whacked at his head. He managed to grab Keith’s arms only for Keith to continue to scream and cry before going limp in Shiro’s arms.

              “It’s time for bed, honey, you’re exhausted.” Shiro pleaded tiredly one more time. Keith’s cries only increased in volume, but he remained limp in Shiro’s arms.

              “No, no, no. Bed, no. Time, no.” Keith hiccupped. Shiro wouldn’t have been able to understand Keith on a regular day, but when his brain was fried with exhaustion and he was covered in tears and snot, he didn’t have a chance.

              Eventually, Shiro sat down heavily on Keith’s bed and began humming. He closed his eyes, beyond exhausted as he hummed alongside Keith’s cries. Until, eventually, all that Shiro could hear was his own humming. Shiro glanced down at Keith with one eye open and nearly sagged in relief upon seeing Keith asleep.

              Finally.

              As careful and as quietly as he could, Shiro tucked Keith into his bed (forgoing the pants for one night) and crept out of Keith’s room. He practically faceplanted into his bed out of exhaustion.

              Don’t worry Keith, the sun comes after the rain.

x.V.x

              That hadn’t been Keith’s first or his last meltdown. But after each and every one of them, there was always smiles and laughter.

              Shiro smiled even wider at the thoughts in his head while watching Keith with his students. Shiro could clearly see that Keith’s smile was fake and that he wasn’t putting his all into the lesson, but despite his own inner turmoil, he was extremely attentive to each and every student. Any time one of them asked for his help, Keith gave them his whole attention and made sure to keep helping them until they no longer needed it. He constantly praised the form, routines, and looks of all the students.

              Shiro was so proud to call Keith his son.

              In the next second, Keith glanced up from his students to look through the window where most of the parents were waiting for the lesson to end when his heart stopped upon seeing his dad. He had to blink several times just to be sure that his dad wasn’t a trick of the light.

              However, the longer that his dad stayed the waterier his eyes became.

              His dad was here. He’d come when Keith had needed him.

              Quickly, he turned back to his student, embarrassed, and refused to cry in front of them. This left Shiro laughing quietly to himself.

              x.V.x

              “Keith, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

              “A dog-training, fire-breathing, astronaut pilot, for the army!”

              “…wow, that sure is…a job.”

              “Or I’ll just be daddy.”

              “Like me?”

              “Yeah. Being daddy sounds great. You were the best.”

              “Aww, Keith. I’m so touched.”

              “Yep, ‘cept I won’t have a lame-ass haircut as you.”

              “Keith! Language!”

              “But daddy, that’s what Uncle Kuro and Antok always say. I agree, but Uncle Kuro’s hair is just as bad too.”

              “Can’t argue with that.”

x.V.x

              “What are you doing here?”

              “You know a, “Hi Dad, it’s so great to see you, wait how about a hug,’ would have been just as nice too.” Shiro chuckled while Keith glared at him. “You were really good out there. Those kids love you and you really help kids that other people don’t know how to help.”

              A small blush slipped over Keith’s cheeks at the praise and Shiro beamed. “But I missed you. It’s been over half a year since your last visit! Besides, I wanted to see how you and your man were settling into your new place.” Shiro smirked, wiggling his eyebrows and Keith rolled his eyes. He playfully punched Shiro’s shoulders before waving goodbye to his instructor and the kids.

              “So you were lonely?” Keith asked, refusing to admit that it had been his fault that Shiro had come up for a visit.

              “Yeah. Can you blame me? My friends are all out of town on a camping trip and Uncle Kuro is traveling overseas, and my only baby boy is six hours from me. Plus, it’s embarrassing to go to my parents’ house every day at my age. I’m beginning to think they’re cleaning up my old room for me to move back into.” Shiro shuddered to himself and Keith snickered.

              “You wouldn’t be able to fit in that racecar bed.” Keith chuckled causing Shiro to laugh.

              “I’ll have you know that it was a limited edition, giant lion robot warrior that defended the universe from evil aliens.”

              “Dad.”

              “Yeah?”

              “Thanks.”

              “Anytime sweetheart, anytime.”

[ev-lr-blog]

The importance of mental health awareness

Hi, my name is Ev.

Having been struggling, thriving and living with mental illness for over the past decade, I realised it was time for me to do something. And I don’t mean on a small scale.

I have been dealing with my own mental health quite well over the past year or so, but I started to think to myself, I can’t just stop at me. So much of the issue that has been me fighting against the chemicals in my brain has been from the stigma that surrounds mental health. That is why I have set up SPEAK UP Nottingham.

I like most teens, puberty hit me HARD! Now it not only started to change the way I looked but it also altered the chemicals and hormones in my brain to such a level, that even today I use medication to allow myself the balance that gives me a fighting chance against my own mind.

My parents were amazing bringing me up, and opening my mind to well-being and mental health. But throughout my own education, I couldn’t help notice a lack of this embedded within the school system. I rolled up my bright red, knee high PE socks twice a week, but I can only remember one session based around mental health throughout my own school experience.

The sad thing is, I am not alone. So many young people have the same story, and it’s generally only the people that have poor mental health that talks about this lack of well-being in our National Curriculum. We don’t see people with ill physical health talking about how they wish there was more Physical Education. We even see so many physically fit, healthy living individuals raving about their PE sessions. So why can’t we have the same for mental health?

Now this idea didn’t spring to me over night as a teen. It was something that has slowly developed over the past half a decade. Forming slowly as I learnt from new experience and met new people.

During my second attempt at university, I studied Primary Education at Nottingham Trent University. I loved working with young children and helping them to shape their own imaginations and potential, but the more I taught, the more I realised that there is a stark gap between what we wish was being taught in schools, and the type of adults we as a nation wanted our children to grow into.

Thanks to league table and exams, teachers’ KPIs and so much more, it felt for me that I wasn’t teaching a class of blossoming personalities, I was wrangling the best grades I could out of them and ensuring that Ofsted was happy. I know how important Ofsted is and that it’s based around children getting the best from their schools, but in the moment, you forget that. Competition seeps in, stress takes over and the dreaded invigilator invades your precious classroom.

I have seen it first hand, how important schools, parents, teachers, governors, TAs, MPs, (and everyone else!) feel about children’s mental health, but with the overwhelming pressure that schools are under, it can fall to the way side.

My own dissertation was based around research I had undertaken myself, including interviews with staff and students, questionnaires for parents, surveys for teachers. It all came down to the fact that mental health wasn’t a topic that was prioritised in schools. PSHE (Personal, Social and Health Education) was the lesson most likely to be dropped from the timetable; children as old as 11 hadn’t heard the term ‘Mental health’ before; coping with stress wasn’t brought up at all, even though I had numerous 8 to 11 year old’s crying about achieving their SATs grades. One of whom, had a panic attack and the emergency services had to be called.

We can’t just stand by and let future generations be in the dark about an issue that affects millions daily. I knew that when I graduated, which is why I started SPEAK UP Nottingham, rather than become a teacher. It is why, when I said this was something I wanted to do, people who approached me asking how they could get involved. It is why, we are building a network of individuals and organisations within the community of Nottinghamshire who want SPEAK UP Nottingham, in local schools and clubs.

SPEAK UP Nottingham fights the stigma around mental health, by shouting about it. We raise awareness with workshops offered for young people from 3-18, real-life blogs and experiences from other young people, advice from mental health professionals and by building our Supportive Speak Up Community, for anyone who is within education, whether you are a learner, a parent, a teacher, anyone! We are here to support in as many ways as we can. We are small but growing. And as I have always told myself, every step is more important than the last. We are here to focus on mental health and not mental illness, let’s encourage the next generation to do the same,

So speak up Nottingham, now is your chance.