#whats worse is when the principal thinks things are too heavy for me

[leahsfiction]

PALISADE 20: In Their Fear Pt. 1 (00:22:21–00:29:57)

“Well, the good news is that it’s still 3 Grip, which means that—”

“Yeah.”

“—we will have a chance to take care of this.”

“Jack? Take it away.”

Something bad is in the air. Bilat crafts teeter in the sky like anxious flies. The distant sound of heavy ships taking off in great black columns of launch smoke. Everything seems too bright. The day is too warm. The headache sits on your forehead and on your temples.

In Carhaix, someone drops a tray of wine glasses. Pleasure yachts and private transit gather at the closed Portcullis Gate, and as it opens vanish into distant Principality space, passing ship after ship of settlers as they pour into the Palisade System.

In the early afternoon, the sun dims, and a red band of light appears around the middle of it, like a bauble wrapped in a ribbon, or a horrible mirror of the Diadem. It’s dim enough to look at directly, but it still hurts your eyes. There is a whine in the air. Every couple of hours there is a rumble of radiation static, and a corona jets from the surface of the sun.

The animals respond in fear. Birds rise, suddenly alarmed, from the trees, or cower silently in crowded branches. Rabbits and foxes freeze, dumb, in the middle of walkways. Ants rise en masse from cracks in the walls. Rivers seem to run slow, with an algaed stink.

Some of the spies know nothing and continue as usual, keeping their mouths shut, answering questions curtly, bargaining limitedly for clemency. When others see the quality of light in the room change, and the demeanour of the people around them alter—why do the calls to Gucci Garantine keep getting dropped? What was that scream of Nidean engines overhead?—they change their tune quickly. They start making specific bargains. Get me off-world. Get me through the Portcullis Gate and I will tell you anything you want. Or they close their mouths, defiant, eyes up. Millennium Break. You do not know the sharpness of the dagger on which you walk.

Of course this is unproportional, they think. What a waste. We’re in a good place. We know the identity of Hexagon. So they made some gains in the Bontive Valley. So they fucked us up on the Isle of the Broken Key. Small beer. We are the most powerful empire in the galaxy. The blood is in the grip. But the Stargrave, these pissant revolutionaries, are gonna get this whole thing blown up.

Or: they let something slip in their fear. The Stargrave has gone mad. She was on the edge and you fucked it. They say the BIS boss went to stay with her, try and calm her down. They say she makes her staff practice dying. They say she got wind that you were trying to come for her and fled, it only made this malady worse, this is the end of the world.

When the message comes to you—secondhand, of course, the Cause council has seen this first—it shows in grainy low-resolution the pinched face of an aide-de-camp as she turns the camera on. Then she tilts it nauseatingly, the view dips, and we see the only remaining right angle of a small ruined building. It seems to be surrounded by trees. The roof came away long ago; just two brick walls stand, forming the corner in which the Stargrave stands.

She is a blonde woman in her late fifties, maybe her mid sixties. She wears full military regalia. On her right arm, from her hand up to her shoulder, is clamped an unwieldy metal device, somewhere between a leg brace and a trigger mechanism. A leather strap, almost like the bit of a horse’s bridle, with eight buttons on it, crosses the palm of her right hand which faces towards the camera. Beneath the device you can almost see that her right sleeve has been rolled up to the shoulder, or cut neatly, and two IV needles run from its metal armature: one into her upper arm, and one just above her wrist. Her face is very pale; her lips white, pressed tightly together; dull light from the armed sun. She opens her mouth: silent for a second, lips parted. Then the man standing to her right—another aide-de-camp, carrying an assault rifle—speaks.

“Terrorists of Millennium Break. As a result of recent assaults on sovereign holdings in the Bontive Valley and the central transit network of this planet, as well as targeted assaults on her office, the Stargrave has been left with no choice but to arm the stellar combustors entrusted to her in holy power for the preservation of the Divine Principality.”

He takes a shaky breath.

“She has instructed me, in her wisdom, to communicate to you that any attempt to approach the Brecheliant Forest or the stellar combustor units, covertly or otherwise, as well as any attempt on Stargrave Elcessor’s life or liberty, will be met with—will be met with an immediate detonation. Resulting in the destruction of the planet Palisade, the sector designated the Twilight Mirage, and the twenty-three systems within the nearest achievable firebreak.”

“I have also been instructed to inform you that any attempt to seek a loophole, magical or mundane, or otherwise circumvent the terms of this message, will also result in an immediate detonation. The stellar combustors will remain armed until August Righteousness of Jade Kill; Véronique and the Divine Fealty of Rose River; Captain Skelton Knaggs of Carmine Bight; Saint Decario Dicario of Violet Cove; Jesset City of Gray Pond; and Gucci Garantine of Blue Channel turn themselves in to the Bilateral Intercession at the nearest checkpoint. This message will be rebroadcast throughout the Palisade System on the hour and at the half-hour.”

There is a long moment of silence. Then the Stargrave nods imperceptibly; then the aide behind the camera turns it off.

[epickiya722]

What's really killing me is just how bad Shoji, a kid mind you, the youngest in his class, was treated here and in his past.

He had to wear a mask since he was younger. Not only that, he's tall and has six arms.

He looks intimidating compared to Spinner. While yeah, some people are scared of lizards, some people also find them cute. Spinner also has just two arms and isn't as tall as Shoji. And didn't wear a mask that covered his face.

The other mutants call Shoji a "traitor" and threaten him, and Shoji is used to the threats?!

DEATH THREATS.

These mutants, Spinner included, are examples of people who have been in bad situations and take turns for the worse. They don't make things better. Yes, mistreatment of someone because of their looks is never justifiable. However, does that mean you, the victim, carry that heavy weight of negativity? Do you continue to mope around?

Or do you actually do something about it to make things for yourself and others who go through the same thing better?

Shoji is someone, again a WHOLE CHILD NOW, who while looks like a "monster" or "villain" decided to actually do something about his situation. He decided to prove how wrong people are about him by attending a hero school, the top one at that.

It really does hurt that in real life, there people who have it just as bad or even worse than others who actually try to change their situation for the better for themselves and others like them while those who view them as "traitors" do nothing but complain and mope.

Really, if you have the means to make things better, do it.

When I saw those leaks, I just felt bad for Shoji and Koda because here are actual children who are attending hero school to make changes while these adults take out their anger on them.

Yes, they have every right to be angry, but it's not okay to take it out on people who are innocent. Especially those who are in the same situation.

That's a theme I noticed with this series. Some of the ADULT (hero or villain) characters tend to be mopey about their past or current situation which is understandable. However, they then turn around and do things that do not make their situation better. Which, yes, can be hard and frustrating. But it takes the effort to change it.

They brought up Nezu, calling him being a principal of a hero school something that is "faked", but... NEZU IS LITERALLY A HYBRID OF ANIMALS AND WAS EXPERIMENTED ON. Again, he had it bad. Now, how he got to be principal, I wanna know, too. But I do like to think that once he learned to think for himself, he decided "you know what, I'm about to pull such a move" and then BAM. Became principal. Could it be possible he was just placed there? Just a pawn? I don't know, but...

Keep in mind, he looks like a rat. An animal that is often depicted in negative ways such as "disease ridden". Can you imagine Nezu hearing that?! Ooh!

And you know what, he was used as an example as to how angry people will be take their anger out on innocent people. Remember back in season 2, also the Final Exam arc, when he was Kaminari and Ashido's opponent? He almost killed those kids. The scene was played for laughs, but it was an earlier example of the current more dark situation with Shoji and Spinner's followers.

There's just a whole mess of wires to untangle here.

Overall, I just want to hug all the mutants, especially the kids. Especially the kids.

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

CHAPTER 4: THE BODY

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: Enjoy!

Warnings: Officer Callahan tbh.

Word Count: 2062

Masterlist

PART I || PART II

Thursday, November 10, 1983 - HAWKINS HIGH 

“Now, the three main reasons for The Civil War were one, disagreements over slavery, two, state vs. federal rights…” 

I stare outside the window watching the trees ripple in the wind, drowning out the history lesson. It’s been hard to concentrate and I can’t think about how heavy yesterday was. From finding Barb’s car, the thing with no face in Steve’s backyard, running to Lucas in the front yard after finding out about Will. The events following after Mom and Erica found Lucas and I on the front lawn feels like a fever dream. I remember being led to the front door, Erica calling out to Dad, Dad questioning Mom about what happened. I don’t know how or who took a shower first, but I know Mom was talking to me but I couldn’t hear anything. 

The shock of something happening to Barb and the police finding Will in the Quarry didn’t sink in until I lay in bed. I couldn’t stop crying. I woke up this morning squished between Lucas and Erica. Lucas lying almost horizontal and practically hanging off my bed while Erica snuggles into my back like a baby koala basking in my body heat. It’s been a few years since Erica and Lucas slept in my bed and I’m sure Mom has taken multiple photos of us all sleeping together. She loves taking photos and videos of us. 

The news of Will spread across the entire town like wildfire. Whispers of fear, concern and condolences echo in the hallways. I don’t see Jonathan which makes sense considering. I saw Nancy this morning in first period. Neither of us talk, both too wrapped up in our own thoughts to say anything. Mom dropped me and Erica at school this morning. Lucas stayed home. He hasn’t said much since last night and the family has given him space to grieve. For all of us to grieve. We knew Will too. 

“Diana Sinclair?” 

I blink out of my stupor, perking up in my seat. Principal Higgins stands at the door looking at me. 

“Y-yes?” 

“If you’ll come with me, please.” 

Everyone’s eyes are on me and I quickly stand up avoiding their stare as I pack up my books. Principal Higgins escorts me down the hall and I wonder what’s happening. I am led to his office. Janice, the secretary is scribbling on yellow legal pad, her plum-coloured outfit matching her eggplant-coloured nails. She smiles at me, magnified eyeballs warm and kind. 

“Hello, dear,” she greets. 

“Hi, Janice.” 

Principal Higgins nods his head respectfully in greeting and guides me to his office where two officers stand. My eyes widen in alarm and I linger outside the office not wanting to go inside. The two officers look at me through the window and I feel my knees tremble. I don’t know what to expect. I mean who does when it comes to being escorted out of class to speak to police officers. I immediately fear the worse. Barb. Principal Higgins opens his office door. 

“Officer Powell, Callahan. This is Diana Sinclair.” Officer Powell and Callahan peer out the door. Principal Higgins looks behind him and notices I’m not behind and smiles patiently. “It’s okay, Miss Sinclair, you’re not in trouble. Officer Powell and Officer Callahan just want to ask you a few questions.” My heart races. That doesn’t make me feel any better.

I wave half-heartedly with a closed lip smile. “H-Hello.” 

“Good Morning.” 

“Hi.” 

They answer at the same time. 

I don’t move from my spot in the middle of the office and the officers don’t move from where they stand. The whole encounter is awkward and I really want to run back to class and forget this ever happened. I shift side to side on my feet, playing with a loose thread on my skirt wondering what we’re waiting for. If they wanted to ask me questions, wouldn’t Principal Higgins have ushered me into his office to talk? Everyone was just standing here like they were waiting for something or someone. My ears immediately perk up when I hear soft clacking of heels walk into the office and I turn my head to see who it could be. My eyes widen and my jaw drops. Mom stands by the entrance wearing a sleek black trench coat with small kitten heels. Her hair is styled in a nice bob and looks freshly done, meaning she just got back from the salon. Principal Higgins walks past me to greet her, shaking her hand firmly and mom smiles her classic southern belle smile at him. 

My heart is beating so loud, I can hear it in my ears. I clutch my pendant tightly in my hands fearing I may pass out from overstimulation. Principal Higgins nods to the officers and they walk out his office excusing themselves past me. I blink realizing I’m still standing in the middle of the room like a deer stuck in headlights. The men walk out the door while Mom lingers waiting for me. She extends her arm and on instinct I walk towards her in a trance. Mom wraps her arm around my shoulder and without a word, we walk out the office.  

Principal Higgins brought us to the cafeteria. It was empty, but I know the lunch ladies were in the kitchen preparing the food for lunch. He leaves us to parade the hallways and Mom and I are sitting across Officer Powell and Callahan. They introduce themselves to Mom and tell us both, that they are here to talk to me about Barb. It turns out Mr. and Mrs. Holland went to the station this morning to file a missing person report and told them mine and Nancy’s name as the last people who saw her. I guess they are going to talk to Nancy next which meant, Mrs. Wheeler was going to come to the school too. I wish I could’ve warned Nancy about what was happening, but I can’t. I tell the officers what happened Tuesday night. 

“So, after this argument—” Officer Powell continued. 

“It wasn’t an argument,” I correct, shaking my head. “It was a…disagreement.” I’ve been talking to Officer Powell and Officer Callahan for the past fifteen minutes answering their questions. Mom sits quietly beside me, listening intently to the conversation. 

“Okay.” Officer Powell said. “After the disagreement, what happened?” 

“I walked home.” 

“You walked all the way home in the middle of the night.” It wasn’t a question. Officer Powell and Officer Callahan both looked skeptical about the thought. It takes almost two hours or more to walk uptown.

“Well, no. I-I got a ride.” 

I can feel Mom looking at me now. At the Wheelers with Barb’s parents, I didn’t get the chance to answer Mrs. Wheeler’s question before Mike stormed inside the house. To be honest, I was hoping I would never have to. Part of me wants to keep Eddie a secret. Not because I was embarrassed of him, the complete opposite. He seemingly was the only good in my life right now and I don’t want it all to be too good to be true. Officer Powell and Officer Callahan glanced at each other, my answer perking newfound interest in my story. 

“From who?” 

“His name is Eddie.” 

“Eddie what?” Officer Powell asks, writing in his notepad. 

“I’m not sure,” I respond, frowning. It never occurred to ask him his full name. The specifics didn’t matter. “He goes to this school and he was on his way home…” I don’t want to say Eddie was on his way from work because he is technically working illegally at a bar downtown and I don’t want to get him in trouble. “He saw me walking past Benny’s Burgers and offered to drive me home.” 

“She must be talking about Munson.” Officer Callahan said to Officer Powell. “Wayne’s nephew.” 

Officer Powell made a face. “Al’s kid?” He shakes his head. 

My eyes dart back and forth between the officers. I may have been born and raised in Hawkins but it didn’t mean I knew everyone in town. Mom and Dad moved to Hawkins from Virginia and we were one of the few families in our neighbourhood who didn’t have grandparents who grew up knowing each other. We didn’t come from generations and generations of Hawkins natives. We are the first in our family to uproot here. 

“You seem like a nice girl, Diana.” Officer Callahan says. “I would keep my distance from Eddie Munson.” 

I frown. “Why?” 

“With a father like Al Munson, take my word for it. He’s trouble.”  

My frown deepens and I clench my hands into tight fists. I don’t like how they’re talking about Eddie especially when the information provided doesn’t have anything to do with what matters. Barb’s disappearance. 

“I don’t think this is an appropriate conversation to be having with my daughter when her best friend is missing.” Mom reminded, her tone hard. 

“Eddie has been nothing but kind to me.” I counter, nostrils flaring. “He drove me all the way across town to make sure I got home safe. That’s more than anybody here has ever done for me.” 

“Do you have any more questions for my daughter about her whereabouts?” Mom asks in her parental voice.

Officer Callahan sits back in his chair while Officer Powell cleared his throat. 

“What happened yesterday?” he asked. 

“Nancy and I went back to Steve’s house to look for Barb and on the way, we saw her car parked in the exact same spot we left it the night before.” 

“When you went back, what did you see?” 

“I don’t know how to explain it, but it was huge, like some sort of animal or something, but,” I pause, licking my bottom lip. “It didn’t have a face.” 

Judgement shoots across Officer Powell’s face. “An animal with no face.” 

“I know it sounds ridiculous but that’s what I saw.” I swallow down the lump forming in my throat and touch my gold pendant on my chest. “I think it took Barb.” 

“We checked the house and there were no signs of any animals.” 

“Did you check the woods?” 

“Check the woods for an animal?” Officer Callahan deadpans. I don’t respond, fixing my chin up. It wasn’t the brightest question to ask, but it was still valid in my opinion. 

“There was no car either.” Officer Powell adds. 

I sit up straight, eyes darting to his. “What? Where did it go?” 

“That’s what we’d like to know, Diana.” He responds, patiently. 

“Nancy and I saw Barb’s car yesterday. I swear to you.” 

“Here’s what we think. We figure that Barb came back last night and then took off somewhere. Has she ever talked to you about running away?” 

I shake my head. “No. Barb wouldn’t do that.” 

“Maybe she was upset, like you, about the fact that Nancy was spending time with Steve.” Officer Callahan surmises. 

I squint at him and his ridiculous deduction. Barb wasn’t like that. I wasn’t like that. Barb and I may have had our worries about Nancy’s relationship with Steve but it wasn’t because of her. It was because of him. 

“I wasn’t upset about that.” I protest. 

“Jealous, perhaps?” 

The subtle tilt of his head conveyed an air of disdainful curiousity as if he were assessing me from a lofty perch. The laugh that comes out my lips is uncharacteristic. The tinge of bitterness and condescension charges the air. I can feel my Mom’s disapproving stare. My manners were unbecoming, I know. But for Officer Callahan to insinuate I am jealous of my best friend for spending time with a boy she likes is comical and proves he clearly wasn’t listening to anything I was saying. There was no motive for Barb to randomly disappear. There was nothing. The only thing that I know is that she is missing and something bad happened to her. 

“No one was jealous of Nancy,” I shoot back, trying to be mindful of my tone. “Not me. Not Barb. No one. I don’t care about Steve. I care about Barb and she’s missing.” 

The officers both watch me slightly taken aback by my firmness. Mom shifts in her seat waiting. Officer Powell closes his notepad, clicking his pen. 

“That’s all the questions we have for you Diana.” 

NEXT -> PART II

[aroanthy]

thinking about kanae and her relationship with her parents and akio and his relationship with her parents and just like…. ideas about patriarchs and fathers and family in utena. and incest obviously. you know there’s something so horrifying about kanae’s situation, beyond the obvious fact that she’s not yet graduated high school and she’s being married off to a child predator who is using their relationship to levy more power over more children. and her mum. and the fact that we don’t ever SEE her dad. fathers in utena have, shall we say, the worst track record in the book. i have so many things that i want to say about representations of Adult Men in rgu and specifically representations of fathers but it all circles back to their absence and imitation.

like, okay. i think the only (non-silhouetted, ie Actual Flesh) father we see is miki’s, and even then we don’t see his face. similarly we don’t see kanae’s mum’ face though she too is a Flesh Parent. don’t even get me started on how the only two visual representation of utena’s parents are their coffins and graves. also don’t get me started on that One shot from episode 10 that i use in all of my amvs of the silhouetted kiryuu parents because as you can probably tell from my heavy use of it in my amvs, i find it a deeply fascinating shot. swagever. all of this is to say, dads are not In The Flesh in utena.

im excluding the movie from this discussion bc whilst im a diehard aou lover and would never normally eclipse it from my analysis like this, the choices it makes in representing touga’s father break with rgu’s typical stylistic choices in a way that i honestly think is less effective. that whole sequence is incredibly visually rich in every other way and includes symbology that is some of the most compelling in all of rgu, imho, but it’s like. gahhh. i know it’s an active choice to represent him as Just A Guy, and you could argue ‘well akio’s Just A Guy’ but it’s. it just irritates me. i don’t think it’s meaningful in the way that utena likes to be meaningful. id argue that seeing his face doesn’t contribute anything, but idk maybe i just don’t like looking at his horrible face. it’s probably just that but also im right it’s a lacking stylistic choice

rambling side note aside, i get to my actual point that i technically already alluded to: akio. akio’s not a dad but akio is positioned as a (pseudo?)father figure to (checks notes) anthy, utena, kanae (hey remember she’s what started this post lol), touga, id throw nanami in, you could probably make a tangential argument for miki and kozue, ruka’s an interesting one, and mikage (maybe??). this is for a couple of reasons. he’s the (acting) chairman of the school that all the characters i just listed attend, he’s the guardian/caregiver for three or four of them, and, fundamentally, he guides and governs their lives to the best of his ability (not in the sense that he’s trying really hard to raise these kids, in the sense that he’s trying to control them. lol). BUT. crucially. he is an approximation of a father, an imitation of the patriarch, even and especially to anthy.

why does this matter? well, funnily(?) enough it circles back to why i dislike aou’s choice to portray touga’s father as A Guy. the powerful men in ohtori— and when i say ‘powerful’ here, i specifically mean men who are not marginalised, men who are not racialised, men who come from money and have never had to reach the top of the tower, rather always resided at its summit— are not seen by us. akio is the acting chairman, the acting father, the stand-in who stood up for something that is altogether worse than him, that made him who he is in such an insidious way. and i just think that’s really fucking interesting to think about wrt his status as a brown man, being racialised, being The Thing That We See when everything else— the inappropriate vice principal, miki’s piano teacher, mr ohtori, mr kiryuu (anime version), even off-hand dialogue from shadow girls about adult men in positions of power like mr judge (papa! daddy! god!!)— is obfuscated and implied. and i don’t want to suggest that that’s an intentional commentary on the racist mythologising of brown and black men as innately sexually violent, because. It’s Not. and utena massively drops the ball wrt race, but because of that lack of explicit, intentional commentary, it creates this strange dynamic between akio, the only racialised man in the show, and Every Other Guy. and that’s a very long-winded way of saying ‘maybe poisoning mr ohtori was a good thing actually’

[voraciousvore]

Boarding School for Giants (23/25)

------ Chapter 23 ------

I felt like I had made a terrible mistake. My heart was crushed into dust, and I had pulverized Joey’s in the process. I could hardly stand to face him again after what I had so cruelly inflicted upon him. How could I do such a thing to him, to sweet, innocent Joey? Did he comprehend where I was coming from, how I felt? He saw me in the hospital after I had been injured at the hands of the giant principal, so he must understand at least to some extent. Not to mention he witnessed me nearly get eaten at the diner. I hoped he would understand. 

The night was long, and I didn’t sleep well. I was tossing and turning all night, and when I did manage to sleep I had troubled dreams. I had nightmares of green eyes and carnivorous teeth, giant hands crunching my bones, being swallowed alive. I faced the next day with a pit of dread in my gut and stark reflections in my head. I showered and dressed, as usual, and packed up my backpack, bringing my new laptop with me. I went outside to wait for Joey, wondering what I could possibly say to him to make things right, to soften the blow from last night. I started to wonder if he would even stop by to pick me up on his way to school, or give up and abandon me, and my chest tightened with shame. I felt even worse when I saw his lofty figure coming towards me from afar, chiding myself for ever thinking he would ignore me. 

The giant came up and stood over me stiffly, not speaking. I glanced up at him, then opted to sheepishly examine his immense shoes on either side of me instead. I felt smaller than ever. Finally, he crouched down and silently offered me his hand in a conciliatory gesture. I hesitantly climbed into his palm, still too ashamed to look him in the face. As he stood up and began walking, I mustered up the courage to stare him in the eye and have an honest conversation with him again.

“Joey, I wanted to apolog-” I began. 

“No,” he interrupted, “You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m the one who should be apologizing to you.” I met his soft chocolate eyes with mine, confused. 

“What do you mean?” I asked. 

He took a heavy breath. “I... acted on pure emotion last night, with no regard to your feelings. I’m sorry for just running off like that. I should have considered what was best for you, not what I would want personally.” His statement was succinct, but eloquent. “I want you to be my girlfriend, but not if it means you’re not making the right choice for yourself.” His lips quivered. “I don’t want you to be hurt because of me.” 

“Aww, Joey...” I said, “I don’t blame you for how you reacted. It was completely understandable under the circumstances. Keep in mind, I still haven’t made a decision yet. So, I might still choose to stay.” 

“R-really?” Joey stammered hopefully. 

“Yeah,” I answered, sounding more optimistic than I felt. Internally I had a weight crushing me down, the weight of a terrible choice. I glanced over at the new watch strapped to my wrist. It was a reminder of the danger I faced, but also a link to the man who could become my father. I was deeply conflicted. 

We went to the cafeteria for breakfast, where Stephanie and a couple of her friends were eagerly waiting for us. “Eren!” she sang when she spotted me, bobbing up and down with manic energy, “I have some people here who want to meet you!” Her two friends smiled awkwardly. Joey collected our food and sat down at the table with all the giantesses, keeping me close to himself on the table. 

“This is Lucy,” Stephanie said, pointing to a busty redhead with a comely face. “And this is Selena.” The other girl was darker in complexion, with silky black hair that cascaded down her shoulders. 

“Hello,” I greeted them, offering my hand for a finger handshake. I was proud of myself for not shrinking back or shaking when introduced to new giant people. Lucy offered me a firm digit with an elegant gleaming nail to shake. Selena was shyer, but with some encouragement from Stephanie she timidly gave me her limp finger, with a dull nail chewed down to the nub. 

We chatted for a few minutes, with mostly Stephanie and Lucy gabbing on while Selena stayed quiet. Soon enough the bell rang, and Joey chauffeured me to my first class, which was math. I was confounded to see that by some miracle I had passed my math test from Monday with a B-, despite my back being bruised and flayed when I took the test. 

The teacher decided to split us into groups to do sample problems. I felt panicky at this development, thinking I would be forced to approach a group of intimidating giants, or be ignored and get in trouble with the teacher for not having a group. However, I was pleasantly surprised to find that several of the giant students were eager for the chance to approach and get to know me, since most of them had never talked to a human before and were curious. In a twist I didn’t expect, the class period was actually a lot of fun. I made new friends while learning math simultaneously. 

What was going on? Was I going native, turning into a nerd like Joey? I supposed such a transformation wouldn’t be a bad thing. Plus, people were being nice to me, and I was making friends! What a great bonus! On top of that, I was happy, even content. The feeling only bloomed more when the bell rang and Joey magically appeared by my side to whisk me away to my next class. I was relieved that the awkwardness from this morning between us seemed to have dissipated, and he was recovering from the shock of the emotional blow from last night. 

My next class was English. Since I had done the homework assignment from Monday, I at least had an idea of what was going on this time. I had missed Wednesday’s class, so I was a little lost, but I caught up quickly. We had a test today so I got the chance to use my laptop’s camera function to scale up my finished test and email it to the teacher to grade. The process went smoothly and I was pleased with the results. Other than that, the class was uneventful, and soon enough the bell rang for lunch, summoning a loyal, grinning Joey to my side. I eagerly jumped into his hand, holding his thumb for support. 

Joey stroked me with his thumb, and opened his mouth to say something when suddenly he was shoved into the wall. He grunted as his shoulder slammed up against the solid surface and shielded me with his hands as best he could, so I wouldn’t get hurt. I bounced against his fingers but was left unscathed. Joey groaned and curled his body around me instinctively to protect from another attack. 

“So, the nerd thinks he has himself a girlfriend,” a repugnant voice snarled. I knew that vile voice, and my stomach dropped. Drake. The giant brute grabbed Joey’s shoulder and flipped him back against the wall violently, pinning him down with a muscled arm. With me in the protective cage of his fingers, clasped against his torso, Joey couldn’t fight back. He grimaced in pain while the taller, stronger giant sneered down at him. Drake’s icy blue eyes drifted down to me; he glared at me with a rapacious leer that chilled me down to the marrow of my bones. 

“Hey there, baby. I missed you,” he sneered. I recoiled in disgust, a feeling that only intensified when he winked at me and licked his lips hungrily.  

“Stop it,” Joey rasped through his physical discomfort, his glasses askew on his face. Drake’s blue eyes hardened into shards of ice when he glanced back up at Joey. 

“Oh yeah?” Drake said. “And what are you gonna do to stop me?” He pressed his full weight into his thick arm on Joey’s chest, making the poor boy wheeze as he struggled to breathe. I could only watch in horror, powerless to stop him. 

“That’s right. Nothing,” Drake growled. Those eyes, cold as glaciers in the Arctic, rotated back down to me. Drake reached over with his free hand, huge and menacing, and wrenched apart Joey’s fingers. I shrieked in terror as he pried me out of Joey’s hands. Joey tried his best to resist, but then went limp, defeated. The giant bully threw him to the ground and kicked him in the belly, sniggering. Joey coughed and retched, crunching up in agony. 

“Help! Hel-” I screamed, but Drake covered my mouth with his finger to shut me up and clenched his fist around me tighter. 

“None of that,” he scolded. “You’re my girlfriend now, and you’ll do as I say. Or else.” His threat made me cease my squirming as I froze up under his chilling gaze. There was nothing I could do. Nothing. I could resist, fight back, bite his fingers, curse him out, but he would simply crush me in his fist like the tiny creature I was. Or do something worse, something unthinkable. I shuddered, feeling hopelessness drip into my heart. Joey couldn’t protect me from every horror in this world. 

“Let her go!” a shrill voice cried. Stephanie! The giant finger covering my mouth loosened momentarily from the distraction; I writhed and twisted my head around to see Stephanie with her big group of giantess friends. 

“Stephanie, help me!” I screeched before I was engulfed in the giant’s fist again. Drake gave me a painful warning squeeze and I became rigid with fear. 

“Let her go! Let her go!” several giantess voices chanted. Drake was suddenly surrounded by a crowd of students in the hallway, outnumbered. My new friends I made in math class had joined in too. “Let her go! Let her go!” The frenzied mob closed in and Drake took a step back, stumbling over Joey’s body collapsed on the floor. He backed up to the wall and shrank down, as if the crowd were draining his power away. He was plainly unsettled by all the unwanted attention that had disrupted his plans to clandestinely steal me away. 

Finally, Drake scowled. “Fine.” He reluctantly reached out his fist and deposited me in Stephanie’s waiting hands. “Bitches,” he muttered, and scurried off in disgrace. The crowd of students cheered. I sighed in relief, slumping into the giantess’s hand. A couple of students helped a battered Joey back up to his feet, propping him up against the wall until he could regain his footing on his own. He groaned, straightened out his clothes, and wiped strings of saliva and bile off his chin from his gagging fit. 

“Thank you,” I said, feeling the tears run down my face. “Thank you so much.” That situation could have become so much worse if she hadn’t shown up. 

Stephanie grinned. “What are friends for, after all? We’ll always have your back!” I looked around at all the giant faces around me, some familiar, such as Lucy and Selena, and some new. I had friends. I had people who cared about me and wouldn’t let me fall. I wiped up my tears and smiled. “Let’s get some lunch!” Stephanie shouted in a rallying cry, raising her fist, and the group of students hollered in agreement and charged into the lunchroom, full of victorious energy from their conquest. 

Rather than follow her friends, Stephanie turned to Joey, who was still recovering from the beating he had endured. He gripped his midsection with one hand, and his eyes looked dead inside, but he was able to stand firmly on his own now. “Here,” she said, handing me back to Joey. She was more understanding of my needs than I initially gave her credit for. “When you two lovebirds are ready, you’re free to join us in the lunchroom.” She skipped off to give us some privacy. 

Joey was burning with shame. “I’m sorry, Eren,” he apologized, massaging the growing bruises on his chest and belly. “I wasn’t able to protect you.” His eyes shined behind his glasses, and I realized he was struggling to hold back tears. 

“It’s okay, Joey,” I reassured him, trying my best to calm him down. “Nothing bad happened to me. I’m not hurt. It’s okay.” 

A pregnant pause. “Maybe... it would be better if you didn’t stay,” Joey said, barely above a whisper, his voice a weakened whine. With that excruciating remark hanging over us, dripping with despair, he trudged into the lunchroom with me in tow, utterly vanquished. 

Next chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/voraciousvore/731609572688674816/boarding-school-for-giants-2425?source=share

1st chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/voraciousvore/731600430392639488/boarding-school-for-giants-125?source=share

[nezushi]

kill kill murder kill (<- being physically underestimated at work)

[rafescoke]

New Girl ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Just as Rafe thought his life couldn’t get any worse, a new girl moved into town. 

Warnings: Straight smut! Mentions of trauma, extreme love-hate relationship, fluff

A/N: thank you so much for 600+ followers wtf ily <33

p.s; you know the drill. . . send requests!

One thing that Rafe was sure of; he was no tour guide, or anything of the sort.

Sure, he got himself into trouble; vandalising the principal’s office and destroying school’s properties, but that was it. He didn’t try to include the part where he goes to parties to get high and wake up the next evening with a painful headache, that was more to his personal life and he believed no one in the education system could have the advantage to be mad at him for it. 

“I simply just won’t do it,” Rafe shrugged, sighing against the chair. “Look, why don’t you ask Topper to help this new kid? He’s good in class.” 

“You answered yourself, Mr. Cameron,” the counsellor sighed, placing a file on top of the table lightly. “He’s good at school work, and you’re not. That’s why we’re going with you.” 

So that was the core reason as to why Rafe was waiting impatiently for the arrival of the new student, whom he didn’t even care about to know the gender. All he wanted was to sit at the back of the school and light some joints. 

“Mr. Cameron, this is Ms. (Y/L/N).” 

Rafe took a look at her. He bit the insides of his cheeks, thinking how she didn’t even make an effort to dress properly for her first day in a new schoolz 

An oversized tee and denim shorts. Really? 

“Hi,” she smiled, extending her hands. “I’m (Y/N).” 

“Rafe,” was all he said, before handing her her timetable for the semester. 

She scanned the paper, nodding slightly and pointed at a word. When she realised how Rafe wasn’t listening, she cleared her throat. 

“What?”

“I got Biology with Mr Garcia. Where’s Room 3?” 

Rafe scooted closer next to her, and the smell of strawberry cheesecake wafted into his nostrils. He took a step back, seething. 

Who would even wear a cakey perfume? 

“Uh, that’s like, at the end of the hall?” He answered, but it was more like a question. He looked at the direction he was noting, and nodded again. “Definitely the one at the end of the hall.” 

“You really don’t care, do you?” She asked, crossing her arms. “Where’s my locker?” 

Rafe took another look at her timetable, searching for her locker number. 

372. 

He turned to look at his own locker, finding the number, and letting out an ‘oh’. “Yours just 4 lockers away from mine.” 

“Thanks.” She muttered, and Rafe sighed before fixing the left side of his bag strap dangling from his left shoulder. “Is that it? Can I go?” 

“Not so fast, Rafe,” the counsellor sighed, stopping him by his chest. “You’re supposed to stay with her for the week. Help her get around. And you’re supposed to show her around the school compound now.” 

Rafe looked up to the counsellor with a pained expression and then back to (Y/N), his chest heavy. “Fine. Let’s go. What do you call yourself again?” 

Right before lunch, Rafe stayed over in his class for a few minutes before going out to the hall. He didn’t want to see the new girl, and he didn’t feel like being her assistant anymore. 

But the world wasn’t that fair. 

(Y/N) grinned, walking towards him. “Can you show me the cafeteria?”

“How do you even know my class?” He muttered, keeping a distance between them. The last thing he ever wanted was to let the news of him being with the new girls circulating around the school, or worse, the whole island. 

“My class is directly in front of yours. We parted just now.” 

Of course she would remember that. 

. . . 

A week went by quickly, and before Rafe would know it, he didn’t see (Y/N) anymore, and he was content with it. 

Until her family decided to become neighbours with his. 

“What do you mean the (Y/L/N) bought the house next to us?” He groaned, watching as Rose and Ward prepared to greet themselves to the new family.

The last thing he wanted was to show her around the fucking island like he was some kind of a hotel worker. 

She was in a yellow sundress, and Rafe couldn’t help but notice the way her (H/C) glowed under the sunlight. She looked similar to her mother, both bringing pastries as a way to introduce themselves. 

“Hi, we just moved next door,” Mrs (Y/L/N) said, showing the Camerons her pearly white teeth. Rafe wondered if she ever got them done, because it’s not possible for a human to have such white assets. 

“Hi, welcome to Obx,” Ward gushed, accepting the pastries happily. “Rafe, take the other cake.” 

(Y/N) looked up at the sound of his name, and to Rafe’s amusement, began gritting her teeth. He took the cake with a smirk, happy that he got her all worked up. 

He would definitely have the best time of his life taunting the shit out of this girl. 

. . .

“Hey, wanna ride a boat?” 

“Topper, leave her alone,” Rafe sighed, fixing his cap so it was facing backwards. “She’s not interested.” 

(Y/N) perked up at this invitation, never actually riding a boat alone if it wasn’t during a holiday since she was originally from the city. She walked towards her neighbour’s deck, her skin illuminating the golden sunrays. 

“Sure.” 

Rafe mentally groaned, having to deal with the girl now, but he wasn’t sure if he was angry or jealous. It wasn’t him to be jealous easily, but after a week of becoming her tour guide, he guessed he deserves some kind of a credit from her. Topper didn’t do anything, but she was gladly accepting his invitation. 

Their usual stroll along the stream of the island was not like usual, since the air was now filled with the annoying chatter between (Y/N) and Topper. Rafe could never relate with them, only wanting to relax his mind and sleep it off. 

“So you’re a city girl? That’s great!” 

“Sure Tops,” Rafe wondered, smiling delightly. Anything to get into a girl’s pants. . . 

“You know what, (Y/N)?” He called from the place he was resting, and he waited a few seconds before continuing his speech. “If you’re looking for a boyfriend, Topper’s not the guy. He hasn’t moved on from his ex-girlfriend.” 

Sure, he would get a lot of shit from Topper for saying that, but he was done with the pointless flirting between them. 

“What about you?” 

Rafe opened his eyes, watching her from behind his sunglasses. He shifted his position, “What about me?” 

“Have you moved on from your ex-girlfriend?” 

Has he moved on from Kie? He wasn’t entirely sure. Their relationship was brief, but she was all Rafe had. When she decided to go all full-pogue, he knew there was nothing left of them. 

“I don’t date.” 

“I can see why,” she said, and Rafe swore he heard some kind of mirth behind her tone. 

“Have you?” 

“Moved on from an ex?” 

Rafe nodded, opening his eyes slightly. 

“I guess.” 

“Good for him.” 

“Excuse me?” She gasped, pushing him lightly. “You’re an asshole.” 

She leaned closer onto him, and for a second Rafe thought about letting her in his bubble, but he quickly shoved her away. “Watch it.” 

“I’m just trying to tell you about that fucking fly on your face.” 

“Yeah? Liar.” 

(Y/N) huffed, stomping back to Topper, and Rafe laughed silently. 

1-0.

. . .

Fuck. 

If he would’ve known about the police raid in Topper’s party, he wouldn’t have come to his house at all. But here he was; all pushed up against the metal chair of the police station, his hair messy and his eyes bloodshot. 

“We’re taking a urine test, son,” Shoupe said, sighing. “There’s always something wrong with you.”

Rafe thought about (Y/N) suddenly, and how she was probably back home and watching some kind of a rom-com. That’s totally her; all cuddled up with a pink teddy bear probably named ‘Bear-bear’, constantly wiping the tears off her face over the sad breakup scene of a movie. 

Rafe was forced to strip out of his shirt and jeans before entering the small cubicle, and having to go through this same procedure for quite a few times now, he didn’t mind giving a show to the workers. 

He quickly zipped his jeans bag, handing a female worker a cup filled to the end with his urine. He yawned, already knowing the results, so there was no use being nervous about it. 

He was picked up by an angry Ward an hour later. He groaned, getting in the car to prepare himself for the same lecture about his future and how he shouldn’t jeopardise it, but he was shocked when Ward didn’t utter a word at all. 

It was very uncomfortable, but he guessed he was just tired. 

“Good morning.” 

Rafe rubbed his eyes against the bright sunlight, feeling the pain from his head slowly soaring throughout his body. He squinted his eyes at the figure in front of him again, trying to blink the blurriness away. 

“What the fuck?” 

“Your mom told me to call for you,” (Y/N) said, looking away from him. Rafe looked down to his body, seeing his shirtless self, and laughed.

Of fucking course she would be uncomfortable with him being shirtless. 

“She’s not my mom,” he grunted, removing the covers off of him and checking his phone for the time. 

12.43p.m. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, and his eyes turned to her again. “What are you doing here again? Leave.” 

“Waiting for you.” 

“I’ll be downstairs in a few seconds,” he muttered. He didn’t need her to be some kind of maid for him. 

(Y/N) muttered some curse word, hoping that riled him up, but she would be stupid if she thought a random curse word would make him Rafe Cameron angry.

It would take a lot more to raise an expression from Rafe Cameron, and a curse word definitely wouldn’t. 

. . . 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” 

His boat was not working, but he had just filled her up the night before. This was the newest model too, and he couldn’t afford asking Ward to fix his boat again. Not when he was caught with being on drugs from his urine test last week, and the only reason he got out of the trouble was because of Ward again. 

“Is it not working, Rafey?” 

Rafe looked up to the sound. (Y/N) was watching him with a sly grin, shielding her eyes with her hands from the sun like she was some goddamn queen that would melt from the heat. 

“What did you do to my boat?” He groaned, trying to turn the ignition again. 

“What did I do? Come on, why do you always think so bad of me? That’s kinda ru—”

Before she could continue her taunt, Rafe climbed the deck, inching closer towards her and smeling that goddamn cake smell again. 

Hell, he’ll buy her a new perfume to stop breathing in that fucking smell. 

“That’s kinda what?” He whispered. He was so close to her now, and he could hear her breath hitching. He smirked, his heart soaring. 

“You’re kinda dumb for a kook, Rafe,” she sighed. She dangled a familiar key in front of him, and when Rafe took a closer look, he noticed it was the key to his boat. 

She threw the key into the water and Rafe watched it plopped, moving straight towards the deep end. His eyes flared at her again, his chest heaving. 

“Hope you have a spare key.” 

1-1. 

. . .

That should be good, he guessed, for being in a tie with (Y/N). But he doesn’t like someone being in the same league as him, so it must be 2-1. 

And the 2 from him. 

But that was for another day, because Kiara Carrera was in front of him. He fixed his cap so it was facing backwards again, and then putting his hands into his pockets for good measure. 

“Hey,” he greeted her. She smiled at him grimly before looking back at the menu, clearly uninterested. “How’re you?” 

“I’m. . . great,” she breathed. “Why?” 

“Just asking,” he shrugged, “Do you wanna go out for some drinks sometimes? Like the old times?” 

Rafe curled his toes, waiting nervously. 

“Um, I have to check with my parents first,” she replied. “But, Rafe, you know, it’s been. . . a year.” 

“Of course,” he laughed, trying to hide the sudden emotion inside him. “I meant hanging out as a friend.” 

“Of course!” She suddenly exclaimed, “If you would bring (Y/N) with us.” 

“Oh, I don’t-”

“You don’t?” 

“I- fine. I’ll bring her with me. Is tomorrow okay?” He sighed, already foreseeing the future. 

And it’s full of shit. 

“Tomorrow.” 

. . .

“Wow, I am not going to third wheel you and someone, Rafe,” (Y/N) laughed, resting her back against her chair. 

“Please,” Rafe begged, sighing. He didn’t know how much begging he could do anymore, not when he had so many things to do. He took a deep breath again, “I’ll do anything for you back.” 

“Including hooking me up with JJ?” 

“Yes- no. No. What the fuck? Where did you even know this guy?” He expressed, his eyebrows furrowing. He was not going to let her a pull a Kie, though they weren’t dating. 

“He helps mower the lawn.” 

Of course. JJ Maybank would never pass the chance to get some money while checking out girls. 

“I’m not helping you to get together with JJ,” he sighed. “Can we go for a better option? Like Landon? He’s rich.” 

“I’m richer,” she yawned. “Okay. Fine. Topper.” 

“No,” he shook his head. “Not going to happen.” 

If she ever thought about him allowing her to date his best friend, she has to be a lot smarter than that. 

He didn’t know why he wouldn’t allow it. Maybe he was scared of Topper hurting her. 

Or maybe he just couldn’t imagine her with someone else.

“Then we have no deal,” she replied simply, gazing at her newly painted nails. She gazed at Rafe who seemed to be thinking hard from the top of her sunglasses. 

He groaned. “Fine. I’ll help you with Topper. But I’m warning you; he. Has. Not. Moved. On.” 

“Oh, he will.”

. . .

Kie was all up on Rafe.

He didn’t know what had gotten into her, because she was never this. . . strong-willed. 

Kie had her hands placed against Rafe’s chest, kissing him tenderly and sometimes running her fingers through his hair. 

Rafe sucked in a breath, watching as she part. Her mouth formed into a grin, and Rafe couldn’t help but grin back. 

“Wanna do it?” 

Did he? Of course he wanted to “do it”. He had been wanting to do so since forever. He would be crazy to say no to that invitation, and he was definitely sane. 

He looked at (Y/N), who was awkwardly perched up on the sofa, tucking her legs under her and watching some kind of a movie on her phone. Her eyes looked up to Rafe, and she quickly looked away. 

“In one of the rooms?” 

Kie seemed to look around the boat for a while, like he was looking for someone, but there were only two of them. And (Y/N). 

“Fine,” she huffed, and pulled him towards one of the rooms by his wrist. 

Kie pushed him onto the bed, and Rafe wondered how she got this side of her. Throughout their 6 months of dating, she never showed him this, so this was a bit of a shock to him. 

“Hey, hey,” Rafe gripped her wrists, holding her still. “We don’t have to rush.” 

“I want to,” she said, and leaned closer. “I thought you wanted this?” 

They began making out, his hand slipping down her back to grab her ass, only to be met with her vibrating phone in her back pocket. 

“I’ll get it,” he mumbled against the kiss, and pulled her phone out.

A picture of JJ Maybank’s smiling face right next to Kie greeted him, and his name was perched on top of the screen, signalling his call. 

Of course. She never wanted to fuck him. It was always to make someone jealous. That explained the gritted teeth Kie would make when he mentioned JJ earlier. 

He sighed, pushing her away so she ended up by his side. “I gotta go.” 

“Huh?” Kie sat up straight, looking from Rafe to her phone. She saw the caller, cleared her throat, and held up a finger to tell him to wait. 

He should’ve known. 

. . . 

Rafe never liked the annual Obx’s drive-in movie theatre, because he really didn’t get the hype of watching a mainstream movie that he had watched with Wheezie a lot of times before in his car. 

This year, it was way worse; they decided to have some kind of a horror themed drive-in movie theatre, and the best part of all; (Y/N) was going with Topper. 

Rafe groaned for the thousandth time at the rapping of a clown against his car window. He gave the clown his middle finger, telling him ‘watch it, you’re scratching my car’, and moving his attention back to the screen. 

Annabelle had disappeared from the room the two nurses had placed her in, and the volume quietened before booming again when the doll had appeared in the living room, perching on top of the sofa. 

He rolled his eyes, and took a look at (Y/N) and his best friend laying in the back part of his jeep from the rearview window. 

They were cuddling. 

“Fuck off,” he grunted, throwing his hands into the air. A human-sized Annabelle pulled on the shotgun’s door now, and Rafe gave the actor another middle finger before yelling a ‘fuck you’.

“This is ridiculous,” he said to no one in particular. He stepped out of the vehicle, knowing damn well he would be the target of the ghosts now, but he couldn’t care less. All he wanted was to step away from all of this and maybe refill his soda. 

He made his way to the back of the lot, getting his money out beforehand. Some type of a wannabe Michael Myers came up, to which he quickly put a hand up to stop him. 

“Don’t. I’m not in the mood.”

Michael Myers seemed to get him, because he left to scare someone else. 

“Refill,” he sighed, giving the worker his cup. “Coke.” 

“You mean like literal coke?” 

Rafe looked behind him, surprised to see a red-faced (Y/N) holding a popcorn bucket. He licked his teeth. “Why? Have you tried it before?” 

(Y/N) went up beside him, muttering about putting more caramel in her popcorn to the worker before looking at him. “You seem mad.” 

“I’m not.” 

“You are.” 

“That’s because you’re all up in my business,” he scoffed. He turned to look at his coke, but the worker was still filling the cup up. 

Good. Did the machine break or something? 

“Where’s the girlfriend?” She asked. She was clearly amused by his sudden tightness, but he quickly softened, as to not rile her up. 

“Where’s the fuckbud- I mean boyfriend? Sorry. It just slipped.” 

(Y/N) nodded, her mouth forming into a grin. “If you’re jealous, you can just say that.” 

“Wait, wait, of what, exactly?” 

She shrugged. 

“Yeah, exactly. No. For all I care, you guys can get married and move to fucking Antartica and have mini (Y/N)s and Christophers running around.” 

The worker placed the newly refilled coke and caramelised popcorn on the counter, and Rafe wondered why she would receive her food at the same time as his when had come here first.

He rolled his eyes, grabbing the drink and walking back towards the car. 

(Y/N) jogged to catch up with him, her popcorn bouncing against her chest. “You’re rude, do you know that?” 

“Jesus Christ, we’re still on this?” He mumbled. He was still walking, but he wanted her to catch up so he slowed down. He guessed it would be the perfect ending to his night to taunt her until she’s all worked up. 

“I just can’t think of a reason why you’re acting so fucking rude to me.” 

“Yeah? Think again.” Rafe sipped on his coke, feeling the carbonated drink sloshing down his throat. He felt content, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the coke or from the girl beside him. 

“This is—”

A nurse with a bloody front suddenly appeared before them, using some kind of a spray to maximise the size of the fire from a lighter. (Y/N) screamed, turning away from the heat, and Rafe quickly caught her before she could end up on the floor. 

“Fuck, fucking move,” he yelled to the nurse, who seemed to be satisfied with her work. Rafe turned to (Y/N), trying to check on her state. 

“Yo, yo, you good? Why are you shaking?” 

She was trembling really hard against him. She had her arms around Rafe’s neck, her popcorn splattered on the ground. She jolted when a scream came from the speaker. 

“Come on, let’s get you to the car,” he mumbled, helping her walk. She kept her face hidden in the crook of his neck, and Rafe had to try his best to balance both of the girl and the Coke in his hands back to the vehicle.

Topper was no longer in the back seat, perhaps looking for Sarah (Rafe wasn’t a bit surprised at this). He was glad his best friend wasn’t there, because the last thinf he needed was two people freaking out on him. 

“Okay, chill, I got you,” Rafe grunted, placing the Coke in the cup holder before seating the girl beside the driver’s seat. He sighed before climbing into the driver’s seat and locked the door in case some kind of a crazy maniac tried to freak her out again. 

“What’s wrong?” 

She didn’t answer, not that Rafe expected her to. She looked like she was reminded by some kind of memory, but Rafe didn’t want to dwell so much on it. 

If he could, he would reverse his car out of this lot back to their homes, but he was one of the first cars to arrive at the drive-in theatre, so it was impossible to get out. 

He sighed, placing his hands against his lap. “You can tell me, you know.” 

She finally looked up to him, and Rafe’s breath hitched from the sight of her red eyes. He softened. 

Whatever it was with that fire, it had triggered some kind of a memory in her. 

He placed a hand against her lap, but not moving so; just a splat of his hand against her soft skin. He had meant for that as comfort, but he realised how creepy the situation was. He pulled away, clearing his throat. 

So they stayed until the end of the movie, just the two of them, and Rafe was sure she wasn’t even watching the remaining parts of the movie. He pretended to watch, but he was really just staring at her the whole time. 

Will she ever let her hair down like this again? Because he liked it. 

When the movie ended and the cars were starting to move, Rafe slowly reversed the car so as to not shake her awake. But she was a light sleeper, and she woke up as soon as he hit the brakes. 

She rubbed her eyes, “Where are we going?” 

“Home,” he answered. “You’re okay?” 

She didn’t answer, and Rafe knew she wasn’t.

. . .

Two weeks after the incident, they never spoke of it again. 

Rafe tried to get an answer out, but to no avail. He didn’t get why he was trying his best to help her, because he, too, needed help. 

“Nah. I won’t invite her. If you want (Y/N) to come, then you’ll have to invite her yourself.” 

Wheezie’s shoulders slumped, “But you’re close to her!”

“I’m not, and she hates my guts,” Rafe replied honestly. Because that was the truth, right? She didn’t even want to tell him about why she was so scared of fire. 

“Invite me to what?” 

“(Y/N)!” Wheezie ran to hug her, to which (Y/N) laughed before patting her on the crown of her head. “Tell her, Rafe!” 

Is she fucking serious? 

“Tell me what?” (Y/N) looked up to Rafe strangely. 

“Wheezie wants to have a movie night, and she wants you to watch with us.” Rafe sighed, hating how he couldn’t just ignore Wheezie. She was definitely Rafe’s favourite, being so close to her brother ever since she was born. 

“Oh, is that true?” She smiled, looking at Wheezie. “Should I come and wear my best pajamas?” 

“You’re not sleeping over, your house is literally 5 minutes away. 2 if you run.” Rafe rolled his eyes. He went up to the counter to pick up a sandwich before biting into it, tasting the creamy eggs and ham. He licked his lips. 

“She can sleep with Sarah, right, (Y/N)?” 

“If she wants me too. . .” 

Rafe rolled his eyes again, “Sarah won’t be with us for tonight’s movie night. She’s starting to hang out with the pogues.” 

“Why are you so against the pogues?” (Y/N) asked, when Wheezie left to write a reminder of tonight’s event in her diary. 

“Why can’t you just shut your mouth?” He sighed. “It’s all bla bla bla bla. Can’t you see you’ll be happier without having to open your mouth every few seconds?” 

(Y/N) bit her lips, and for a second, Rafe had to look away from the look she was giving him. 

Shit. Why was he even looking away? 

She turned to go away, but was halted by Rafe’s fingers around her wrist. She groaned, turning her attention back to him. “What?” 

“You still haven’t told me about the night of the drive-in theatre.” 

“Good,” was all she said, before she went back by the sliding door to her home. 

. . .

“Rafe would be mad if he saw me watching this.” 

“It’s rom-com! And it’s totally PG-13. Trust me on this, okay? Anne Hathaway, yeah, that girl, yes, she’s going to get prettier throughout the movie.” (Y/N) smiled, popping popcorn into her mouth. 

Wheezie sighed, placing her head against (Y/N)’s shoulders and yawned. “Like what? Princess Diaries?” 

“Yes, but this is The Devil Wears Prada. You’ll love it!” 

A beam of light filled the mini movie theatre of The Camerons, signalling the late arrival of Rafe Cameron. He brought two chocolate bars, a Coke (again) and some chicken nuggets. 

“Move,” he said, motioning to Wheezie. 

“There are more seats around here!” Wheezie hissed, crossing her arms. “I’m not leaving (Y/N).” 

“You’re not leaving her, silly, you’re just scooting more to the right.” 

“What’s in it for me?” She raised a brow. 

“Nuggets?” 

She scooted to the side, giving more space for Rafe to place himself beside an annoyed (Y/N). 

Out of all 7 medium-sized sofas in the theatre, he decided to pick the one the two girls were sitting on. 

Rafe handed Wheezie the plate full of chicken nuggets, looking at (Y/N) before watching the screen. He groaned, “What’s this? Trash?” 

“A masterpiece, so shut up,” (Y/N) replied. Rafe huffed, amused, and unwrapped the chocolate bar. 

“Want some?” 

“No.” 

“Come on,” he cooed, placing the chocolate before her eyes. She grunted, pushing his hands away. 

Rafe took that as his final warning. He didn’t want to annoy her even more, knowing that she will probably not talk to him anymore. He decided to wait until half an hour later, just to taunt her again. 

“I’m going to get more popcorn,” Wheezie suddenly said after an hour into the movie. She excused herself to the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone. 

(Y/N) sighed. Great, just like how she wanted. 

“What do you want from me?” Anne Hathaway’s voice blared from the speaker, and Rafe looked at (Y/N). 

“What do you want from me?” He asked, repeating the dialogue. (Y/N) watched him from the corners of her eyes, not getting any delight from this. 

“For you to shut up.” 

“Really? That’s boring,” he sighed. “Do you want to know what I want from you?” 

“Sure.” 

“I’m thinking of a few things. Maybe you, on my lap.” 

(Y/N)’s breath hitched, but she tried her best not to look disturb. She shifted in her seating position. 

Rafe leaned closer, feeling her heat. “Your turn.” 

You know what? Fuck it.

(Y/N) turned to look at him fully in his face, leaning even closer that a part of her was practically on top of him. “Do you know what I think of you, Rafe?” 

His eyes dropped to her lips, and he swore his heartbeat quit beating. 

“I think about you, Rafe,” she whispered. “All pressed up against me in my bed, whim-”

“More popcorn!” 

(Y/N) returned to her previous position, bewildered. She fixed her hair, and her eyes were back to the screen. 

If Wheezie were to hang out with a pogue right now, Rafe wouldn’t give a fuck. 

“Well, the ending’s shitty,” Rafe exclaimed, clapping his hands. He watched as the end credits rolled, and took a look at Wheezie. 

He nudged her, sighing. “Wake up, Wheeze. Go to your room.” 

She groaned, searching for her fallen glasses. Rafe helped her to put them on, and gave her another poke. 

“I want to watch the movie.”

“The movie’s finished. It’s time to sleep. Go.” 

Wheezie groaned, muttering how it’s not fair that her brother could stay up with (Y/N) to watch more movies, but she guessed she was too tired for another round of movie anyways. 

“What’s the next pick?” 

“Horror.” 

“Nah.” 

“Why?”

“‘Cause you’re going to freak out on me again.” 

“I won’t,” she assured him. “Let’s go with Hereditary.” 

Rafe’s fingers and (Y/N)’s were almost touching. He was still bothered by her comment before Wheezie came barging in, and he was still desperate to hear her reply. 

“(Y/N)?”

“Hm?” 

“What were you trying to say?”

(Y/N) stopped watching, and looked at him. “What?” 

“About you thinking of me.” 

She blushed. “Nah.” 

“Come on,” he nudged. When she didn’t move, he tried placing his hand against her thigh. 

(Y/N) stood up suddenly, and for a second, Rafe thought he had fucked up. He watched as she went to the door, locked it, and went back to their place. 

“You locked the door.” 

“Yeah.” 

Rafe licked his lips, smirking slightly. “Ah, I see the game you’re playing.” 

“What game?” She raised a brow, only turning to the screen when a scream blared from the speaker.

“Hey, look at me.” Rafe tugged on her chin, forcing her to look at him, and his eyes actually looked into hers. He noticed the (E/C) colour of her eyes now, and he swore he had never looked at something more appealing. “Tell me.” 

She stayed quiet, not moving a muscle. 

Rafe sighed, getting impatient. He leaned closer now, this time his lips merely an inch away from her cheeks. He could feel the heat radiating from her. 

“Tell me, baby.” 

“You getting all close to me isn’t helping, Cameron,” she sighed, laying her head against the sofa. 

“Still playing hard to get?” 

“I’m not playing anything.” 

Rafe slowly placed a kiss against her temple before trailing down to her cheeks. She sucked in a breath, and Rafe smiled. 

“Still playing?” 

She nodded. 

Rafe’s lips touched hers by a bit, and she let out a moan she had been trying her very best to contain. Rafe chuckled, pulling away. 

“Still playing?”

“Shut up.” 

“That’s a yes? Or a no?”

“That’s a fuck you.” 

“Oh,” Rafe smiled. “Thought you never asked.” 

His kiss was gentle. So soft, and (Y/N) had never felt something like that before. The kiss deepened when she let out a soft moan, riling Rafe even more. 

He pulled her up onto his chest, letting her hands rest against his chest before pulling her away. Her lips were red, and there was a string of their saliva hanging from both of their lips. 

“What do you want, (Y/N)?” 

“You.” 

“Huh?” 

“You.” 

He smiled, tugging on her shirt. “Off.” 

She wasted no time to remove her shirt, exposing her new black bra she ordered online a few days before. Rafe sat back, his eyes dark. 

“Jesus Christ.” 

He kissed her neck, trailing down to her collar bones before stopping directly on her chest. His fingers fiddled with the bra clip, being so used with this already, and removed the piece of clothing with ease. 

(Y/N) instinctively covered her chest, her chest heaving. 

Rafe looked up to her, his eyes softening. “What’s wrong?” 

“Am not comfortable.” 

“Oh, that’s alright, we don’t have to do—”

“No, Rafe, I want this. I just don’t think I’m perfect enough for you.” 

Rafe let out a breath, placing a soft kiss against her stomach. She closed her eyes, throwing her head back. He guided her hands away, exposing her perky breast to the entire theatre to see. 

Rafe was glad he was the only guy present. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” 

“Shut up.” 

He looked up into her eyes, wetting his lips. “I’ll do anything to fuck you right now.” 

(Y/N) grinded against him, causing a groan to escape from his throat. He held her waist in place, not wanting to trigger his release. 

“Do it,” she whispered. 

The movie became a background noise as he fumbled with her shorts, grunting when he couldn’t figure out the knot. 

He positioned himself before her, and looked up into her eyes again. Her chest was heaving, and she looked nervous. 

“You’re okay?”

“I’m a virgin.” 

Oh fuck. 

Why would she even say that? He couldn’t even contain himself anymore. 

He pushed himself into her, letting her get used to the feeling. He waited for her nod, signaling that she was okay and hadn’t changed her mind, and thrusted into her again. 

His hands stayed around her waist to guide her, watching as her mouth slightly parted as he deepened inside her. She bit her lips, her nails clawing onto his shoulders. 

“Oh my god.” 

“Fuck,” he groaned, feeling his own forehead clammy. He didn’t notice her hands that had left his shoulder. She cupped his face, placing wet kisses against his cheeks. 

“You’re so good for me, baby,” he whimpered, allowing her hands to guide his. She placed them around her breast as she rode him, and Rafe had never felt better. 

If he has to taunt and annoy her more to get into this level again, he’ll do it again. Without any hesitation.

“I’m so close, baby, fuck,” he groaned. He gave her another longing kiss, looking down to where their bodies connect, and moaned loudly. 

Just before he reached his end, he pulled her away, not wanting to plant himself into her. (Y/N) tried to wrap her fingers around his penis to which Rafe jerked at for  being so sensitive. He pulled her hands away, his chest heaving. 

“Don’t,” he grunted. His load shot out of his member, wetting the sofa underneath them, and Rafe quickly slapped his shaft against her core to get her to reach her end. 

“Rafe, I-”

“Let it,” he whispered, watching as she tilted her head back, exposing her neck. “Let go, baby.” 

She trembled slightly, finally reaching her high, and collapsed on top of the heaving boy. Rafe stroked her hair, pulling her into a lying position, and planted another soft kiss against the back of her head. 

“The movie’s still on.” 

“Watch the next part, it’s amazing,” Rafe whispered, still holding her close. They were both naked, still coming down from their highs, but Rafe had never felt better. 

(Y/N) turned to look at him. “You’re still an asshole.” 

He placed a soft kiss against her lips. “Your asshole.” 

-

@okayshoto @joselyn001 @onceuponateenagetrash @dyingsleeping @iwannabeapogue @meaganjm @rafesobxs @flossy2929 @unfortunatekiwitrash @scottybitch @asimpwriter @amaya124 @tommy-tommo @thatshithurted8 @fallincindy @marvelwhor3 @rafeswh0ree @kookap @supernaturallydc-blog @blank-velvet @alaniskauany @kiiim8 @witchywrter @kaitlyn2907 @heyimflo @overcookedpastasause @tsukkiswifeey @spidey-d00d @anonymousobxfan @gotmeinloveagain @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @lexi-writes @classydragonthingknight @belongtoyou-u @badbussylol @savannah-elliott @angelreyesgirl100 @haterpenny @beehappyyy @alwaysclassyeagle @maybankslut @kayleea122 @clearbolts @lovelyxtom @christianaevans @jemimah-b99 @opierdalacz @dangerdolns @wildflowerliv @classygirlything21 @pogueslandia

[rmdently]

01 | reversy toilet

pairing: sub teacher!jungkook x teacher!fem!reader

genre: fluff, angst, comfort, slice of life, slow burn, abbott elementary au, teacher au, co-worker au

rating: pg-13

synopsis: You meet the newest sub teacher for the first time.

warnings/tags: mentions/brief descriptions of throwing up/vomit, pee, a dysfunctional toilet, a teacher yelling at a student (let me be clear that i do NOT condone abuse in any form), a terrible principal, reader's prejudice against jk having tattoos and piercings but don't worry! that's quickly dispelled as the story goes on, heavily based on janine and gregory's first meeting in ep 1

w/c: 802

next m.post

"It's okay. I actually throw up all the time, so—" you tell your student, who is now trailing after you as you lead her to the unisex restrooms.

"Argh!"

A tall man holding a boy's uniform pants groans as he emerges out of one of the stalls. He turns around and stares at you and your student like a deer caught in headlights.

Not to mention his eyes were as big and bright as a deer's, too. His baby face contrasts with the piercings on his right eyebrow and lower lip. When you glance down on the hand clutching the much smaller pair of pants, you notice the patterns of ink scattered all over his fingers and knuckles.

Tattoos, piercings....

What is he doing here—?

Suddenly pulled out of your trance, you protectively put your student behind you and yell, "Random man! Child pants! Security!"

"Oh, no! No, no, no, no, no!" the man says with a pout, eyes wide, hands waving frantically. "I'm– I'm Jungkook! Jeon Jungkook, the, uh, sub for Ms. Chu!"

Ms. Chu. Like you, she's one of the younger teachers in Busan Elementary. Except she's doing a worse job in taming the students. The other day, she crossed the line, and yelled at a student. Well, what other thing should be done than to fire her.

You and the other teachers even suggested to alert the school district but Ms. Kang, the principal, quickly dismissed it. She said that nobody has to know that such a thing happened under her—er, the school's watch. Instead, she'll make an emergency budget request to the district for the 99 other problems the school has.

"Oh. Okay..." you trail off.

Just when he thought the situation is now under control—

"...but that's still not explaining the pants. Security!"

"N-no, that's not— w-wait! Hold on!"

Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, a heavy exhale escaping his lips, overwhelmed with both the peed-in pants and broken toilet situation, and trying to convince you that he is not the kind of person you think he is.

"Well, um, one of my kids had to go to the bathroom so I brought him, but then he accidentally went on himself."

He takes your silence as a sign to continue, but not before gulping down the dryness in his throat.

"A-and I tried to flush the toilet and the water shot back up in the air. And then I'm—"

He gestures to the large map of wetness on his sweater, which strains against his broad shoulders and clings to what seems to be hard ridges of muscle underneath. You swallow quickly at that.

"Oh," you say, tone softening. You suddenly feel bad for him. "No one told you about Reversy Toilet then?" 

An awkward laugh comes up your throat, and halts when you see his face just contorts in confusion, and there is that pout again.

"Uh, no?"

You scoff at yourself. Of course, he doesn't know about Reversy Toilet.

"Um, I know, sorry. Could you please watch her for a second?" you say, chin pointing to the girl behind you.

"Y-yeah! Ofcourse!" Jungkook says a little too fast, a little too enthusiastically. He is just about to mentally berate himself because he thinks he hasn’t stopped embarrassing himself in front of you when you give him a grateful smile before attending to his student.

He feels his heartbeat stop for a second.

The girl slowly walks up to him and grabs him by the hand. She gives him a smile. "Are you okay, Mr. Jeon?"

"Oh." He smiles back at her. "Yeah. How about you?"

"I threw up in class."

Jungkook doesn't know how to respond to that. He's glad he doesn't have to because you are coming out of the stall with his student in tow. He now has a towel wrapped around his lower body.

"Okay. I'll be back for her, and I have some spare clothes for him in my room. I will get him changed, and then send him back to you, alright?" you say in that teacher voice of yours.

He nods with a grin that subconsciously paints his face, which drops when he realizes he still hasn't gotten—

"Your name? Um... I still haven't asked you."

"Ah, you're right," you shake your head. "Silly me. I'm Y/N."

You extend your hand towards him, and immediately retract it when the realization hits you.

"Oh. Sorry, pee."

"There's vomit. Yeah."

You both laugh.

"Welcome to our school, Mr. Jeon," you say finally before turning on your heel.

"Thanks," he replies, more to himself and the girl who's still holding his hand.

She giggles before whispering in a sing-song manner, "Mr. Jeon has a crush on Ms. L/N."

Jungkook feels heat creep up his neck.

Maybe she's right.

[lebrookestore]

the one; l.ty

Pairing: Lee Taeyong x reader

Themes: exes! au, best friends to nothing, exes to nothing, college! ish au because they’re graduating, the angst is a very subtle type but its still pretty heavy

Warnings: unrequited love, heavy angst, mentions of kissing and food (ice cream)

Wc: 1.6k

Playlist: the 1 by taylor swift, closure by taylor swift, 2 kids by taemin, dancing after death by Matt Maeson

Authors note: this is a deleted scene from my fic, favorite crime! (which you should go read. please lmao but also because it will give this story even more context) i have altered it so it sort of works as a oneshot? Anyways, I hope you like it<3

You know the greatest loves of all time are over now

~

When you’re younger, you’re told to live your life to the fullest, to enjoy your youth. You’re seen as naive and and wide eyed at the world around you. When you’re younger you’re allowed to make those stupid mistakes and mess up, because people look past them.

But some mistakes, everyone but yourself can look past. These type of mistakes could haunt you for the rest of your life with every little thing you do. The what ifs.

And when you’re young, even though you have so much of your life left to enjoy, you can’t ever go back and fix them. They were permanent, like a life long promise, or a tattoo inked into your skin. You would never be able to escape them, even if you moved on.

At age twenty one, standing in front of your full length mirror donning your graduation cape, you had already made one of these mistakes, and it weighed you down everyday, simply because the reminder of it all was just a window away.

You glanced through your window, seeing him there, doing the same thing as you were, trying to adjust his tie. If you hadn’t been so stupid, then the two of you would have been getting ready together, you would be the one tying his tie and he would be the one teasing you about how your your cap was too big for you.

You let a smile brief your lips, before looking away. Even though you were no longer staring at him, you knew exactly what he was, the image burned into your mind. Bleached blond hair still messy no matter how much he tried to tame it, his bright eyes that seemed to hold the universe and that intoxicating smile.

Your biggest mistake was falling in love with the boy who never loved you back.

And how you had fallen, hook, line and sinker for him. Taeyong was the object of your affections, your best friend- well former best friend. That was where your mistake came in.

You foolishly let it happen, a relationship of sorts with him. At first, it was everything you had ever wanted, but that slowly started turning into a nightmare you wanted to wake up from. Sometimes you still wonder if you’re in a nightmare.

The two of you worked so well together, because you had known each other since you were four. He knew all your flaws, had seen you at your worst and at your best. You would have never thought he would be the cause of one of your worst moments.

But Taeyong, he wasn’t in love with you, but rather, was infatuated. Infatuated with the idea of love and loving you. Once he figured that out, he did the right thing and told you, effectively breaking up with you.

You lost your best friend and lover all at once. It was painful being around him, because you were still in love with him. He had been your everything, and now you had nothing at all. He slipped through your fingers like sand on a beach.

You hadn’t talked to him since that night he told you the truth. You made an effort to not look at him through your window, because it would just break your heart more. You had never known what it was to be heartsick until you experienced it yourself, and extremely violently.

He didn’t push it either, giving you your space. And while this helped you heal, it also felt so wrong. From spending almost every moment together, to spending no time at all, your lives had completely changed.

For some, love was a breeze, it gave them a fuzzy warm feeling that they wanted to hold onto forever. For you, love hurt like a bitch.

You couldn’t help but think about what could have been, if he had actually loved you. Or if you never indulged in what you wanted and just stayed friends. Sometimes- no, all the time, you wished that had happened instead. You were fine with loving him quietly.

Another part of you, the more selfish part, wished he never realized he didn't love you. You would have been fine living that way, but that was only thinking about yourself. You deserved to know, and he deserves that freedom.

What if?

Falling into love is easy, especially with someone like Taeyong. He was the most beautiful guy you had ever seen, with the kindest heart you could think of. You had fallen when you were merely seventeen, still in high school.

No, it was the falling out of love part that was harder. After loving someone for as long as you had loved him, you couldn't imagine ever loving anyone else. The sheer thought of it didn't make sense to you.

So what if you were still with him, what if you never lost him. What if he was still your best friend through thick and thin?

Snapping out of your thoughts, you made one last adjustment to your graduation cap and sighed, scanning yourself over in the mirror. Deeming yourself presentable, you walked out of your apartment, jogging down the stairs of the building and reaching the ground level.

You were hitching a ride with your friend Ryunjin, who was arguably the world's worst driver but you didn't really have a choice. If you did, you would be going with Taeyong, but well, that wasn't going time happen.

You yourself couldn't drive, simply because you were too scared of accidently killing someone. Taeyong had even tried to teach you how to drive when the two of you were dating, but it was discovered that you were probably even worse than Ryunjin.

A few traumatized minutes of the drive to campus later, you found yourself lost in a sea of students that were also graduating with you. Thankfully you had a few friends, but it was still pretty overwhelming.

The ceremony itself was a blur, of you were being completely honest. You saw your friends get called up on stage and receive their scrolls. Ryunjin flashes an awkward peace sign at the principal because she shook his hand, Ten did a happy dance after, and Renjun pretended to click a picture.

You saw Taeyong go up there and receive his scroll, a bright smile on his face, a smile you so loved. You clapped for him, a proud, yet bittersweet smile gracing your features.

And soon it was you up there, and after you had gotten your scroll and take your picture, it had literally turned blurry. You didn’t realize you were tearing up until a wave of emotions crashed over you. You had finally graduated, you were out of this place after four years.

You hated change, despised it even. Now you were thrust out into the world, gone was the familiarity of attending classes and parties with your friends. First you lost your best friend, now you’d probably lose most of your other friends. It wasn’t as if all of you were going to stay in the town, you had first hand experience of this when your friend Yeji graduated the year before and moved away.

You were so young, so naive and yet it felt as if you couldn’t hold on to a single moment long enough. How were you supposed to enjoy your youth then? You were slowly loosing everything.

Sucking in a deep breath, you composed yourself, a laugh escaping you when Ryunjin practically threw herself onto you in a hug of celebration. You quickly wiped your tears so no one saw them, smiling. 

Turning around to talk to another friend, your eyes met Taeyong’s. He was much further away from you, but you knew it was him, you’d always know him. He didn’t break the contact, a small smile appearing on his lips as me mouthed something.

‘I’m proud of you’

You mustered up the best smile you could, repeating the same things silently so that only he would know it. Pressing your lips together pacified, you once again accepted that it was over. You had accepted it so many times, but you had to keep reminding yourself.

With one last look in his direction, you raised your hand up, curling your fingers into a fist before bringing it down to your chest, right over your heart. His smile only grew as he gave you an affectionate wave. Best friends after all, you knew each other like the back of your hands.

And then everyone tossed their caps into the air, as cheers resounded through the hall. Laughter and chattering filled the area, and you knew it would be alright in the end. 

You accepted the fact that Taeyong would haunt all your what-ifs, even as you tried to move on. All the kisses at midnight and late night talks out on your adjoining roofs, the long drives and ice cream dates- it was a thing of the past.

And yes, it still hurt when you recalled all the beautiful things that had happened with your time with him, the way the two of you were so beautiful.

It simply wasn’t meant to be, even if you were still in love with him. Heck, you were sure you’d always be in love with Taeyong, a part of your heart would be reserved for him and him only, but it was time to let go. You weren’t okay right now, but you’d learn to be okay. 

Still, it would have been fun if he had been the one.

fin.

[creonininkwell]

What’s it like working with Lucy? Does anything seem…off about him?

A giant pain in the @$$, but I put up with him because he's a useful pain in the @$$

At first I thought he was a whiny b!tc# I'd have to constantly babysit. It's a bit suspicious that his "work" happens to coincide where I go. The first few times he would show up randomly at the place. Sometimes he would accompany me on the ship ride. His "job" is harvesting monster parts. Why the Devil needs Lucy to go monster hunting, I don't know. He doesn't know either, cuz why would you question your boss, the Devil?

Fair point.

I wonder if the Devil eats them? That would kinda make sense.

Lucy also seems accident prone. Like one time I was trying to search for clues or secret mechanism in the overgrowth near some ruins. My back was turned for one minute, JUST ONE. I turn around to painful screaming. Somehow Lucy got himself bitten by some giant beetles. He's too embarrassed to tell me how he gets into these accidents. But seriously, how is it possible to stab yourself in the foot? I don't know why he had a knife to begin with. I have no idea where he's keeping them. Maybe he's got a bag of holding or some bull$h!t pocket dimension.

Then everything changed the one time he lost his $h!t and started to torch nearly everything to ashes. Now I've got to worry about his hair-trigger temper. It's worse since he can set things on fire (b@$stard). I don't know how contracts with the Devil work, but it's gotta suck if the side effects are growing devilish feature with heavy magic use. It's kind of unsettling to see an unhinged Lucy with horns and yellow spliced eyes setting things on fire...and laughing.

Another thing, he still hasn't learned from the last time we tangled with that wolf mafia. And this was when he was "pursuing" me. You'd think getting kidnapped and roughed up, he'd learn to shut up when it's needed. Seems like he needs to piss off or insult someone. I expect a lot of fights any time we encounter people or talking monsters. Half of the time I'm able to smooth things over without it escalating further or worse than before.

But again, those are kind of rare and few. How does a cartoon universe have some f***ed up cults or evil psychos that look like they've been ripped straight from horror flicks? I'm really upset at how much I've resorted to violence to solve my problems. The past dimensions have forced me to bring back my old skill set; how to murder and getting away with it.

Now it's not all bad. There are times where he's actually helpful. I'll admit this, I don't think I could've made it this far in my search for a way back home. As much as I dislike magic, it's really handy to have a magic-user with you. Even if said magic-user is an a$$h0le, satanic warlock. He's super knowledgeable about ancient civilizations and most magical beasts and monsters. He actually has a knack for dead languages. It's really impressive.

Sometimes he'll have a lecture or two on the history of certain sites. It's actually one of the few times when he's not being a pretentious prick. Now if only he can stop putting up this snobbish front all the time. Expeditions with him kind of remind me of the good and treacherous times with my party from the D&D dimension.

Still think his demon teapot is creepy. And that grimoire he brings out occasionally. Him chanting in whatever infernal language with that book sets me on edge. I almost expect the Devil to pop up from his summoning.

Now that you mention it. There are some things "off" about him. Especially when his eyes glow when he's searching with magic sight. For some reason those glowing yellow eyes really set me on edge. It really creeps me out when he stares at me with those eyes. Like he's looking for secrets. Sometimes he'll pause mid-sentence or mid-word when he's talking about himself. I don't know why he's so tight-lipped about himself. Wonder if he's embarrassed about some personal stuff. I don't push on that issue on principal. since I prefer to keep lots of personal stuff to myself. Sometimes he gets sullen or moody at times, but he won't tell me why or give some bull$h!t excuse.

It's a good thing I'm a light sleeper. Experience from my time in service. Hopefully it's just my paranoia, and Lucy doesn't plan to slit my throat in my sleep for whatever bath$h!t ritual. I haven't seen him doing any rituals...yet.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

hello ash, i dearly cherish your writing and have a sort of related question. you write of hope a lot -- obviously this is a whump blog, but your stories are heavy on found family and recovery and good people finding each other and eventual happiness, and you write of these things so convincingly that I have to ask: do you believe they happen in real life? not just believe, i guess, but would you say they do, actually? i'm in college and don't have many adults in my life, much less any who seem the least bit content, on any level. if i'd asked any of them (and i have, regrettably) they would tell me it doesn't get better. i read a lot, things with the same themes you write about, but it all reads like... well, fiction. but your stories and your characters feel so real i find myself believing their happiness. do you write those parts from experience, someone else's or yours? i know obviously it doesn't get better for *everyone*, and for some it only gets worse, i've seen it numerous times. but i wanna know what you think. i'm deeply sorry if this is too heavy of a question. if you decide not to answer, i completely understand, i am a stranger after all! instead i'd just like to thank you for what you do here, as pessimistic as i might sound your stories truly, truly do help me tremendously. chris' story in particular has gotten me through some of the most horrific times in my life. i hope you're aware how grateful we are and how much comfort you've brought people here. thank you for reading this, and i hope you have a warm (if not in temperature then otherwise) day.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ you are lovely, anon, and this was so sweet of you to send.

So, I do pull from my own experiences for details, 100%. The bit I just wrote about a college girl going through her recently deceased grandfather's things? My grandfather died when I was fourteen, granted, but that horse and cigarette holder described in the piece are what I kept as my thing to remember him by. I still have the horse, but my mother kept the cigarette holder when I moved out. The cluttered office full of receipts and papers and boxes? Very real.

Child characters who feel isolated and shut out from others their age? Very real experience of mine. Right down to the Valentine's Day box debacle that Tristan experienced, except that my mom didn't pick me up, I just sat in the principal's office for the afternoon.

Watching Cardinals as a kind of visitation from those who have died? That's a cultural thing where I was born and raised that found its way into my work.

Bahram's depression and breakdown description mirror a similar situation my partner once went through (entirely different reasons for it, but some of it presented similarly).

I have had the friend who kept going back to an abuser and felt the frustration Jake feels watching Kauri push those who love him away.

I have felt Danny's pain as a sibling who didn't quite fit with what my parents expected, and who therefore was always on the outside looking in. Although my parents were not abusive in any way.

I know someone who experienced what Jake did as a child - trapped in an abusive family and their church community rallying around the abuser and essentially chasing out the survivor and her child.

So, I guess in short, I use a lot of real life experiences to inform me, although I never use a detail from someone else's life without consent.

What I don't know, I obsessively research until I feel better informed and able to write it. I read, but I also speak directly to people who have the experiences I don't.

[supercorpkid]

What the hell, you’re in hell.

Part 2 of T is for Trauma - The Series

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader

Word count: 2040.

Warnings: kidnapping. Injuries. Angst.

Previously on the series – part 1

Things have not yet fallen into place with your moms. Of course that, as a family, sometimes you all say things you didn’t actually give too much consideration and end up kind of hurting each other’s feelings on the way. Most of the time, there’s a big apology, hugging and crying. You haven’t done any of those things during the night, and in the morning, you were kind of late for school so you didn’t have time to talk to them. To be fair, you didn’t even see them since your big blow out.

So, after school you say goodbye to Jamie, and decide to walk to L Corp. Since people are now paying more attention to the sky, you don’t want any more pictures of you flying around for a while. You don’t know how your momma pulls off not being recognized just by using glasses and a ponytail, but you sense you might not be able to do the same.

You’re on your way to L Corp to finally talk to Lena. You know that you hurt Kara too, but you did worse with Lena saying you didn’t expect better from her. That was shitty of you, and you know it.

Sure, there were also a bunch of things that you said that were totally true. Now that you think about it, you were only trying to convince yourself that you didn’t care that they never show up at your science fair, physics decathlon, or anywhere else in the school aside from the principal’s office to hear something bad about you. You don’t know why they stopped doing that when you got older, but not seeing their proud and loving face in a sea of people that hate you, really did a number on you.

Jamie has obviously noticed that this was the reason you left in the middle of the event, and she went all therapist Olsen on you and told you, you should tell them the truth. Tell them it hurts, that you miss them there, and apologize for saying it so aggressively.

So, your plan is talking to Lena first, and then buying some donuts and flying to CatCo right after, so you can talk to Kara. You could never know none of these plans would come true.

You’re walking, when you pass a black van parked close to the sidewalk and you feel something burning in your body. That’s so weird, you’ve only felt like this once. And only when you’re shot with a Kryptonite bullet.

You try to run, but your legs feel wobbly, and you can’t go very far before your legs give in and you fall on the ground. You look behind you, to a guy leaving the van, and going towards you. You take off your glasses to see inside the van, but you can’t see anything.

“Lex was right, Kryptonite always works.” You hear when the guy is in front of you, but you can’t see his face, it is covered with a black mask. You know they have kryptonite, but you have to call your momma for help. You put your hand on the watch and he notices your movement. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, child.” He easily lifts you up by the wrist, and takes the watch out.

He is not just a normal guy. You can see by the way he lifts you up like you weigh nothing. He either has super strength or some other kind of power.

“What do you want from me?” You manage to ask and he laughs right at your face. He walks back to the van, you’re still hanging a few feet off the ground, by the wrist. You look around to see if no one is seeing this clearly evil person carrying a girl to a black van, and your answer is that no one is. And the ones that are, certainly don’t care.

“Why would I want anything from a child?” He throws you in the van and you look around to see the kryptonite. It’s so close to you now, that you feel the burn going inside your bloodstream, and you whimper.

You look outside at the man’s hand, and you see him dropping your watch on the ground. He was smart, not to take it with him, ‘cause Kara could track you with it. Your hand goes instinctively to your necklace, as long as you still have that, Lena can track you.

“What do you have there?” One of the other guys notices your hand and tries to take it away from you. You fight, punching him with all the strength you have left, and he falls back with a hand on his nose. But you can’t fight all three of them, not while being exposed to Kryptonite. So, they snatch the necklace out of your neck and dump it on the street.

“No, please, no. It’s just a necklace, it’s my grandmother’s necklace, please.” You cry out, but they take no pity. They close the van and drive you away for good.

You want to take the high road, you really do. You want to go quietly and pretend that you don’t care about the fact that you’re being kidnapped right now, but if there’s a slight chance that Kara can hear your cry for help, then you don’t really care about taking the high road.

So you cry and you scream. You do everything you can to get help before you’re taken to Rao knows where, but help doesn’t come.

You try to use your x-ray vision to know where they are taking you, but, and you can’t believe you’re thinking this, these kidnappers are kind of smart, because they covered the van in lead, so you can’t see out, and Supergirl can’t see in.

“So you work for Lex Luthor. Why is he sending people to kidnap me?” You scoff, with not so much strength left in you.

“I don’t work for Lex!” He yells looking extremely offended by your insinuation. “He simply gave me some ideas, but I’M the brain of this operation.”

“Ok. Then what do you want from me?” You ask again, not satisfied with the last answer. “If you want to fight, stop the car and I’ll fight you!”

“No offense, but I can’t fight you. You’re like twelve.” Offense very much taken, excuse him. “I can’t fight a kid. And I don’t want to anyways, I want Supergirl.”

“Why?” You should’ve known. You always knew someday you would get into serious trouble because some evil jackasses are trying to get to your momma, but right now? While you’re in the middle of a fight with her?

“You’re too young to understand!”

“I’m not too young!” He scoffs like he is sure you’re twelve and you huff. “I’m sixteen!”

“Boss, you said we were kidnapping a kid.” Says one of the other men, looking at you in shock.

“It’s not my fault she looks so young.”

“So you’re ok with kidnapping a kid, but not a teenager?” You ask one of the guys and he looks back at you.

“Shut up, I think you broke my nose, you stupid shit!”

You open your eyes, and look around. You don’t remember closing your eyes in the first place, so it is very surprising when you open them and find yourself in a low light lit room. The only thing you see clear is a chair, and the ‘brain of the operation’ in it.

“Hello child.”

You want to punch his face so badly, but you can’t. They have you wrapped in chains with kryptonite in the middle. It burns so much you can’t even get up from where you’re lying on the floor.

“How long do you think it will take for Supergirl to find you?” He mocks and you try to use your x-ray vision to find out where you are, but it’s all made of lead. “I do think we made it too hard for her. She can’t track you. She can’t see through lead… I wonder if she will find you before the kryptonite kills you because of over-exposure.”

“Let me go.” You grunt, your voice almost gone and you hear laughter in response.

“Your mother put me in jail for years. I had a child too, you see. Now he is a man, and wants nothing to do with me.”

“Is there where you met Lex?”

“Why are you so interested in Lex Luthor? Oh, yeah. He is your mom’s arch enemy” He tilts his head to look at you. “I told him all about my hate for the Supers, so he gave me some ideas. And I guess he was right. I mean, just look at you. You look like you’re dying and I didn’t even have to hurt you.”

“You shouldn’t follow Lex’s footsteps. He is sentenced for a lifetime.”

“I thought you were dying, but you are way too talkative for someone who’s dying. Should I black you out again?”

“Supergirl will find me and you’re going back to jail to keep Lex company for the rest of your lives.” You growl between your teeth.

“I might. Or you might die first and I’ll have the last laugh. I guess we'll see.” He walks to where you are. “I must say, it’s an incredibly powerful feeling to make a Kryptonian bleed.” He stomps on your head, and you see nothing after that.

When you wake up again, you can taste the blood on your mouth. You feel weak and nauseated, and your ears are ringing loudly. You don’t open your eyes, because you also hear muffled voices. It’s hard for you to make up the conversation with the constant noise in your ear. You focus on the conversation, and try to forget the pain you’re feeling.

“She’s totally green. Look at her. She looks like Shrek.” Laughter. “Maybe she died already?”

Nope, still pretty much alive and suffering, thank you.

“Maybe coming to Gotham was a little much. Supergirl will never find her.”

Gotham? Fuck. He is right, your momma might not find you before you die of over-exposure.

“I’m so bored. Let’s go grab something to eat. She’s either dead or dying, so who cares?”

Well, he is right. You are dying.

You open one eye, the one that was not directly stepped on, and you see you’re indeed alone. Ok, you’re dying, but you’re not dead yet. What can you do?

There’s not much in the dim lit room, or at least not a lot you can make out with your one watery eye, anyway. There is one thing, only one thing that can help you. An old radio system. The best kind.

You force yourself up. Your head is heavy and you barely can’t leave it up. You can’t stand up, so you crawl to it. The taste of blood is strong on your mouth, your stomach is twisting and growling inside, you know you’re minutes away from throwing up all over yourself and passing out again.

You open the radio, you’re not even sure how, do you still have super strength? Is it just poorly made? It doesn’t matter, the only thing that matters right now is that you are able to pass your location to someone.

- - . .. -

-- .. -- .- -.

You press the button a few times and close the shell again, crawling back to the place you were, and laying down while panting because of the pain and the effort. You close your eye, and pray to Rao your message is received by them. You pray they’re looking for you. And you pray you don’t die before telling them you’re sorry for all the things you said, and that you love them more than anything in the universe.

It doesn’t take long until you hear the men coming back to where you are. You stay completely still, and even hold your breath to make sure they don’t notice anything.

“See, I told you. Dumb girl didn’t even move. She dead, man.”

She ISN’T dead. But if she gets out of this, you might be, you stupid shit.

[ghostiiiee]

Just Like Me

To read at my Ao3 CLICK HERE This is the first chapter. sorry is its a little rough. :sweatdrop:

Almost forgot! Tw: i will be going heavy on quirkless discrimination and mental health issues. Theres not much in the first chapter but i do want to touch on it at some point.

School was never something he looked forward to. After all, what was there to look forward to? He was used to getting bullied, made fun of for being different, called names, shoved around. The irony wasn’t lost on him. Many years ago, maybe he would have been the normal one? 

Then again, what even was normal?

It used to be normal to go to school- learn history, math, science and whatever language the school taught. 

It used to be normal to not have any powers, after all -  superheroes were a dream. Stories people made up to tell themselves. Heroes existed, yes, but they never had powers. Heroes were just people, average people. 

Again, there's another word that's changed. Average. 

Normal. Average. 

Two hundred years ago, it was normal for the average person to look human.

Two hundred years ago, it was normal  for the average person to have no powers.

Two hundred years ago, it was normal for superheroes to only be a thing of stories.

That was two hundred years ago. Not now.

Now it's weird to not have powers.

Now you get bullied for being regular. Quirkless.

One of 20%. 

Mathematically, he thought it was stupid that so many people get treated so differently. He did remember Mr. Lancer telling him of people getting treated for less. Mr. Lancer told him two hundred years ago, 10% of the population was seen as satanic because of what hand they used to write with. A similar estimated percent was discriminated against because of who they loved, or what they identified as. 

“Sadly, Mr. Fenton, the human race has a history of not tolerating those who they see as a minority.”

“I remember that from history Mr. Lancer.” Danny sighed, leaning his head on his hand. His eyes stared out the window, looking at the stormy weather. “I remember you talking about how things used to be.”

The teacher pursed his lips, staying quiet and looking at him with concern.

Lancer had asked Danny to stay after class to speak to him. He never did like how Daniel’s peers would gang up on him after school ended. The best he could usually do was this. Casper’s principal was... far too likely to be accepting of anything the more wealthy students’ parents had to say.

“Is that why you’ve been spacing out all day then, Danny?” 

It was asked gently. Danny’s eyes glanced over to the balding teacher before darting back to the window. He hummed for a moment. “...Kinda. I got a lot on my mind.”

“Penny for your thoughts then?” Lancer pulled his chair next to his desk.

It was quiet for a few minutes, the sound of rain gently pattering against the classroom windows filled the room while Danny collected his thoughts. Blue eyes watched raindrops roll down the glass.

“I don’t get it, Mr. Lancer.” His voice was quiet as the floodgates opened. “Everyone in my family has quirks. Dad is strong. My mom can copy anyone’s fighting styles just by watching. Jazz can look at someone and-.... well you know.” He sank down into his chair. “Aunty A, even has a quirk. I've never seen her miss a shot. And then there's me. Daniel James Fenton. The first quirkless person in our family in a long time. Don’t get me wrong either, it doesn’t bother me too much.” Liar. “It’s just... it feels like the cherry on top of everything else.

“My parents got an invitation to teach some classes at UA in Japan. In Japan, I've never lived anywhere but here. Amity Park. It’s not like they can leave me here. PLUS, Jazz has always wanted to go there for the General studies.”

“I understand your concern, Danny. But I’ve seen your work,” There was slight amusement in Mr. Lancers voice. “Aren’t you good at building things? I know I’ve caught you tinkering with something more than once in class.”

Danny’s face flushed red. “...My parent’s usually make those. They’re old models of support gear they have made. I was seeing if I could get a glitch out.”

“And?”

“...I keep shocking myself.” He mumbled. “It hurts like hell.”

“While I can’t say I’m happy that you are getting injured. As long as you are safe, I'm glad.” Mr. Lancer offered a smile to the teen. “As for the other predicament, you are always open to contact me if you need me after you move.”

“Thank you Mr. Lancer.”

~~~~~~~

Danny was thankful that they moved over the summer and not in the middle of the year. School was already hectic enough as was. Moving in the middle of the year was not something he ever wanted to do, let alone moving across the globe in the middle of the year.

He kept to himself for the first few weeks. He liked to walk around, exploring the new area. It felt different than Amity park. More crowded. He noted early on there was definitely more hero around too. It didn’t bother him too much.

That's a lie.

More heroes means more villains.

He didn’t like villains.

He also didn’t like being a hostage.

Lucky him!

He was held hostage by a villain not even before the end of the second week. Not that this was a first time experience for him, having been a favorite target back in Amity Park. He knew all the heroes back home personally because of it. People just loved to take quirkless people hostage. One would think, with the target that seems to hang over his head, that Daniel James Fenton wouldn’t take such risks as walking around alone at night. One would think that if he did, it would be out of necessity, and he would at least have something on him to defend himself.

...yeah no that's not the case. Why in the world would that be the case?

Danny was shoved onto the ground, air leaving his lungs as he hit. He gasped for air, trying to look at who was targeting him now. He couldn’t really tell much about the person, ratty clothes and a hoodie pulled up to cover their face. Nothing could be seen under the hood, it was just shadow, pure, black shadow.

“What’s a runt like you doing out right now?” The villain crouched next to Danny. Chuckling when he tried to scoot away. They put a foot on one of Danny’s wrists, “Ah-ah. Now that’s rude. I’m talking to you punk.”

Danny didn’t respond, wincing at the pressure on his arm. 

“It’s rather rude to ignore your elders.” The villain put more pressure, adjusting so they were crouched like a vulture next to prey.

“F-fuck you. I’ve seen worse.” He growled

The regret in saying that was nearly instant. In the blink of an eye, the ground next to his head - that was solid concrete what the hell- was shattered. The villain was making an inhuman noise, a low gutteral sound coming from them. “You haven’t seen my worst. I wasn’t gonna do much to ya, but I’m starting to change my mind kid.”

He knew he should do anything else - he was already on a thin line - but fuck it. He had a free hand anyways. He grabbed something from his pocket and slammed it against the villain. “As I said before. Fuck. You.” He pressed the button on the side.

The machine sparked to life. Quite literally. Danny still didn’t know what it was supposed to do, but he could make it shock things. Like a weird taser. Unlucky for Danny he was literally pinned to the ground beneath the villain getting tased. And as everyone knows. Humans are conductive. Very conductive. 

Strangely the villain didn't even flinch. The growl getting louder as they grabbed the device from their shoulder and crushed it with their hand. Danny started shaking. Okay so that was a horrible idea. 

The shadows of the alley gathered around the villain. Climbing up their clothing and slowly slithering along their arm. They held Danny down, forming chains around him. In the villain’s hand, a knife, absorbing all light, The villian made the move to attack, and Danny closed his eyes, waiting for the pain to come.

It never did.

It lessened. 

Weight lifted from him, a weight he hadn’t realized was there besides his arm. Tentatively he opened his eyes. 

The villain was on the ground a few meters away from him, knocked out and tied up to a fire exit- similar to how Batman would leave criminals for the cops. Danny blinked. He hadn’t heard anything. So what in the world happened? And how could that have happened so fast? 

Standing up, he looked around for a sign of anyone being there to help him.

Oddly enough. It seemed no one had caused the villain to go down, at least not that Danny could see. Blue eyes scanned the area for a moment, looking for anything that wasn’t there before. Nothing popped out. Nothing was out of place. It looked like no one had been there.

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. The air condensed, forming mist as it left his mouth and floated away. It was like when he first stepped outside in the winter. Which was strange- it was the middle of summer. A small frown formed on his face. The nights here weren’t that cold normally. 

He brushed it off, ignoring the goosebumps running along his skin as the air chilled. Perhaps whoever knocked the villain out had a rather cold quirk, he mused to himself. Heroes normally make themselves known at this point, checking to see if he was okay. 

He had an inkling it wasn’t a hero. At least not a licensed one. Not that he minded. He didn’t care who it was really. They saved his life… he was grateful for that.

Danny looked up to the clear sky, moonlight peaking over the buildings enough to illuminate the alley where the street lights glowed. He smiled up to the stars. “Thank you.” He said softly. “I wasn’t paying attention tonight.”

He left the alley, starting his way back home. He never caught sight of the figure watching him.

[fallen-gravity]

Intellectual Adequacy

Stan hates to start any unnecessary conflict, especially when there’s a very real chance that Ford will be moving to California next year, but he knows deep down that if they don’t talk about this now then he’ll never have the courage to bring it up again.

“Wait,” Stan shouts to Ford, and he stops dead in his tracks.

~~

Notes: In which one little plot bunny that was preventing me from getting any work done becomes its own rabbit hole.

I genuinely cannot believe that in the six-seven years I've been in this fandom, I've never tried my hand at the fix-it-fic where Stan and Ford just talk it out as teenagers, just like they should've in canon. I've seen a lot of different approaches, but I feel like I've yet to see one that tackles it from the perspective of Stan's own battle with his self-worth, rather than the actions he or Ford have already taken.

AO3

Stan hates the principal’s office more than anywhere else in the world.

He swears, he’s called down every other week for something that’s not even his fault. He punched Crampelter in the nose for harassing some poor freshman? Principal’s office. He talks back to a teacher calling his classmate stupid for forgetting an “obvious” geometry equation? Principal’s office. He accidentally drops his pencil during an exam and bends over to pick it up? He must be cheating. Principal’s office.

If you asked him, the whole idea of sending kids to the principal’s office is pointless to begin with. Oh, you did something bad, and now we’re gonna make the big man in charge tell your mommy and daddy? How old do these people think they are?

Stan wishes he could say that this time is okay because they’re not even talking to him. They’re talking up a storm to Ford in there about another college scholarship and all the reasons why he and he alone would be the perfect candidate for some random school all the way out in California

But it’s not okay, because the longer Stan sits in the dumb waiting room the more he’s starting to feel like chopped liver. They’ve been in there for at least five minutes with no sign of stopping anytime soon, but every time Stan asks the secretary if he can just go back to class already she dismisses him with a wave of her hand and it’ll be your turn soon, sit back down.

He’s thinking of just sneaking out the next time the secretary buries her nose back into her magazine. It’s simple: just wait for her to pull it out from her desk, sneak by as quick as he can, and slip out the door and back to class before she can even notice he’s gone.

He stands from his chair, pretending to stretch and preparing to execute, but freezes solid when he hears his name being spoken from within the principal’s office.

“…What about our little free spirit Stanley?”

It’s Ma, and whatever it is they’re talking about in there, she isn’t happy about it. Frowning, Stan glances over at the secretary to make sure that she isn’t staring at him, and presses his ear to the office door to listen to their conversation more carefully.

The principal laughs in response. “That clown? At this rate he’ll be lucky if he graduates high school”

Stan’s taken aback by the harsh choice of words, but if he knows Ford, then he won’t just sit there and let the principal talk about him like that. He presses his ear further into the door, waiting for Ford to interrupt the principal’s rambling about how he’s never going to amount to anything with you just don’t know him like I do, or something along those lines, but it never comes.

Not a single interjection that…anything he’s saying is wrong. Not from Pa, not from Ford….and not even from Ma.

They don’t…all really believe that, right?

There has to be something else he’s missing. He bets they’re defending his honor right now, and the reason they’re not making a big scene about it is because they’re in public.

Yeah.

He’s got nothing to worry about.

He peeks into the window, expecting to see Ma glaring daggers into the principal, or Ford silently cursing him out behind his back, but what he’s met with is so much worse. Ma and Pa are exchanging warm smiles, and Ford is frantically shaking hands with the principal, beaming brighter than Stan’s ever seen in his entire life.

Matter of fact, Stan’s not sure he’s ever seen any of them look so happy in his entire life.

He’s worthless, he’ll never go anywhere, and they’re all smiling about it.

Stan’s heart drops to his stomach, and he slides to the floor to join it.

Is this some kind of cruel joke? Were they expecting him to listen in on their conversation? Is this their cruel workaround of telling him he’ll never amount to shit?

He sighs.

He stays there on the cold tiled floor for what feels like hours, contemplating all the times he’s been called dumb, or stupid, or a terrible influence on his brother. All of those times when he could brush it off just because it was coming from someone he didn’t care about.

But worthless?

Behind his back, spoken directly to people he loves, and they won’t even bother to defend him?

That one’s new, and if Stan is going to be completely honest with himself, it’s much harder to brush off his shoulders than all those other times.

Stan doesn’t even notice the office door opening until it nearly smacks him in the back of his head. He quickly jumps to his feet and brushes himself off, pretending the best that he can that he wasn’t just eavesdropping on them for the past ten minutes.

“Stanley!” Ford comes bursting out of the room, his grin threatening to split his face in two. “I just received the most incredible news! The admissions team at West Coast Tech heard about my science fair project, and-”

The beam suddenly slips from his face, replaced with some sort of mix of confusion and concern. “Is...Something wrong?”

Stan rubs at his eyes to make sure he hadn’t started tearing up without realizing it, but no, his eyes are bone dry.

Curse Ford’s stupid ability to read his mind.

Stan covers up the gesture of rubbing at his eyes with a yawn, and stretches his arms in the air. “Nothing except you taking forever in there” he flashes a fake smile easily. “Talk about a blabbermouth, am I right?” Stan gestures towards the principal with his thumb.

Ford laughs, and returns his gaze to the pamphlet in his hands. “I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t think he’s so bad”

Stan opens his mouth to quip back, but Ford doesn’t seem to be paying much attention anymore. He’s just staring at that dumb pamphlet, his grin slowly but surely returning to his face again.

Instead, Stan shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs, turning his gaze to the floor. “Yeah, I guess you’re right”

~~~

Stan feels like he’s in a haze for the rest of the day. Even when he tries to focus on class to take his mind off of things and redirect it on anything else, he can’t get his mind to stick.  Not even final period gym class can save him, which is really saying something, because the gymnasium is usually the one place where he thrives.

Worthless.

The word won’t stop bouncing around in his skull, hitting him where he’s most sensitive.

It doesn’t help a thing that Ford is dead silent on their walk home from school. He’s usually chatting up a storm to Stan about stuff he doesn’t really understand, and under normal circumstances Stan can’t wait to get home so he can bury his head in his pillow and drown out the sound of Ford’s babbling.

But today he’s not even looking in Stan’s direction, just burying his nose in the West Coast Tech brochure with stars in his eyes, and now Stan wants nothing more than to hear Ford babbling on about his advanced physics classes.

It’s almost insulting.

Stan sighs, and lightly taps on Ford’s shoulder to catch his attention. “Can we talk?”

“Hmm?” Ford blinks, like he needs a few moments to readjust to reality. “Oh! Of course. I was actually planning on asking you the same thing” he places the brochure in his pocket. “Same place as always?”

Stan nods. “Same place as always”.

It’s a quick change of direction and a shortcut to the beach before they find themselves on their old swing set. By now they’re both too heavy to use it properly without a risk of snapping it, but they still find it’s a good place to go when they just need to get away and talk.

“You’re not really thinking of going to that stuffy old school, are you?” Stan asks as soon as Ford sits on the swing beside him. “They’ve gotta be crazy if they think four more years of essays and exams are better lookin’ than tanned babes and gold chains. We’re so close to finishing up the Stan-O-War. Soon as graduation rolls around we’re outta here, just like we always promised”.

Ford chuckles. “That is a nice thought, but…” he pulls the brochure out of his pocket again, and unfolds it for Stan to see. “You have to understand that I can’t just pass up an opportunity like this. Maybe I don’t need a degree from any old state school, but this is West Coast Tech we’re talking about!” he beams, the stars returning to his eyes. “They’ve got cutting edge technology and multidimensional paradigm theory”

Stan rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but admit to himself it’s nice to have his brother back again after an entire day of radio silence.

“Beep boop, giant nerd robot oncoming” Stan punches Ford in the arm.

Ford’s grin only widens. “I figured you’d say that, but it’s too late to change my mind. The head of admissions already flew in this morning, and with my go-ahead they’re going to check out my science fair project later tonight and let me know then and there if they want me at their school”

“Well that seems kind of harsh” Stan quips. “What if they say no?”

Ford shrugs. “Well, then it’s like you said. If they don’t want me, you and I sail off on the Stan-O War and never look back”.

Stan frowns at the strong emphasis on if. He really thinks he’s going to get this, doesn’t he? Stan can’t exactly blame him when he’s been the reigning valedictorian of their class every year since they were kids.

“And if they say yes?”

Ford grins. “Well, then you better visit me on the other side of the country” he punches Stan in the shoulder, and stands to his feet without saying another word.

Stan can’t bring himself to join him. He knows that Ford didn’t mean anything by it, but he can’t help feel wounded by his brother’s implication that while he’s off in California having the time of his life, Stan’s still gonna be stuck living with their parents in New Jersey.

It’s just like their principal said. He’ll never amount to anything anyway, so why wouldn’t he stay in New Jersey? Where else would a worthless piece of shit like him end up?

Stan shifts on his swing and watches as Ford walks away, and he can’t help but wonder just how much of the principal’s tangent that Ford believed.

All of it?

Some of it?

Had Ford even been listening to what he said at all?

As he continues to watch his brother walk away, he can’t help the feeling in his gut that he has to know. He hates to start any unnecessary conflict, especially when there’s a very real chance that Ford will be moving to California next year, but Stan knows deep down that if they don’t talk about this now then he’ll never have the courage to bring it up again.

“Wait,” Stan shouts to Ford, and he stops dead in his tracks.

“Yeah?” Ford says, turning around to face him. Stan suddenly finds himself very aware of his heart loudly pounding against his chest, but he forces himself to squash that down. He’s never felt shy or anxious about asking his brother anything, and he sure as hell isn’t letting that start now.

“You don’t…uh,” he swallows. “You don’t think I’m…worthless, do you?”

Ford looks appalled. He neatly folds the brochure back into his pocket and starts walking- no, jogging, almost sprinting back to the swing set. He pauses in front of the empty swing beside Stan for a moment, like he’s debating whether he should sit down or not, but eventually he shakes his head and sits down anyway.

“What on earth makes you say that?”  There’s a hint of anger to his tone, but Stan’s not entirely convinced it’s directed at him. “Why would I think you’re worthless? You’re my twin brother! What could’ve possibly put the idea in your head that I thought that?”

There’s a tiny voice in the back of his head screaming at him to back out, brush it off with a joke and have this conversation later, but there’s an even louder voice shouting at him that it needs to be had now.

Stan sighs. “I…overheard everything in the principal’s office today”

Ford blinks, like he doesn’t understand a word that Stan just said. “About…West Coast Tech? Is this because you’re afraid that I’ll get in, but you know you won’t because you’re not even interested in applying anyway, but you know you’re going to miss me, and you’re not sure if you can handle-”

“About me, Sixer!” Stan shouts, and tries his damn hardest to ignore the waver in his voice. “He practically called me a useless piece of shit directly to Ma and Pa and neither of them said a word about it!” He scrubs his hands down his face because he’s not choking up, not over something so pointless and stupid. “You’re going to travel the world and become the smartest person the scientific community has ever seen, or whatever, but me? Apparently I’ll always be stuck here in New Jersey to pick up after everyone else’s messes, because that’s all I’m ever good for”

Stan buries his face in his hands. He hadn’t meant to blow up, and he certainly hadn’t meant to direct his anger at Ford, but he just feels so hopeless, and he’s the only one around who’s willing to listen. He wouldn’t be surprised if Ford returned with anger of his own, or told him off for being selfish, or even if he just decided to stand up and walk away from him for being such an embarrassment.

The silence that follows is thick and heavy. Stan is so convinced that he must’ve driven Ford away that when he feels a hand on his shoulder he nearly jumps a mile out of his skin. When he finally pulls his hands out of his face to meet Ford’s eyes, his face is flushed pink and he looks…embarrassed.

“Stan, I had no idea, I…” he awkwardly pulls his hand away and grips tightly to the chain of his swing. Stan can see Ford’s face shifting through about a dozen different emotions at once. “I…must’ve been too focused on everything else to realize he was saying those things about you.” He shakes his head. “I know it’s not an excuse, but…” he sighs. “I’m sorry”

There’s another bout of silence between them. Stan’s half-expecting that to be the end of it, and for Ford to walk away without another word.  

But Ford breaks the silence with a sigh, and when Stan glances over at him he’s staring down at the ground.

“If it’s any consolation...you’re much smarter than me in a lot more places than you realize”

Okay, now Stan has to laugh. “Okay, now you’re being too nice to me. You don’t need to lie to make me feel better”

“I’m serious!” Ford’s cheeks flush pink again, and he adjusts his glasses before returning his gaze towards Stan. “There’s actually been a fascinating number of studies about intelligence lately, and, well…” Ford’s face is turning redder by the minute, Stan swears. “It turns out that…there’s more than one type”

Stan raises an eyebrow. “You’re losing me here, Sixer”

“Well, you see, I thrive in academic intelligence. Math, science, history, you know, school stuff. That’s the most commonly known type of intelligence because a lot of our formative years are based on it”

Stan doesn’t say anything, just raises his eyebrow even further.

“But,” Ford continues quickly, “They’ve also made discoveries about the existence of social intelligence”

“Social?” Stan blinks, suddenly finding himself significantly more interested. “You mean like talking to people and stuff?”

Ford nods. “Precisely. They say people with high social intelligence are much better at picking up on social cues, and can make friends with others much easier than those with lower social intelligence.” Ford kicks at the sand. “The reason social intelligence hasn’t been recognized is because it’s often mistaken for having a friendly personality”.  His face flushes pink again, like he’s afraid he said the wrong thing. “Not that a person can’t have both, but…”

Stan smirks, nudging at Ford with his elbow. “Stanford Pines, are you calling your good-for-nothing brother intelligent?” He teases, but can’t help the genuine smile creeping to his face.

“Think about it!” Ford throws an arm into the air, the other one tightly gripped on the swing to prevent himself from falling off. “Every time Ma and Pa leave us in charge of the shop so they can go to Atlantic City for the weekend, who’s the one bringing in all the customers? Who’s the one selling out our daily stock less than two hours after we’re open? You are, Stan, just by being yourself. You know how to persuade people into buying our stock at ten times the listed price.”

“You can’t learn that from twelve years of public school. They can try to teach you, but at the end of the day it’s all about your ability to connect with people” Ford rubs at his arm. “I’ve tried teaching myself those kinds of tricks for years, but at the end of the day…” he shakes his head. “I’ve never been able to catch up.” He smiles. “I raise my white flag to you, Stan. You’ve outsmarted the smartest brother in the world”

Stan chuckles. “Try telling that to Principal Comb-over. He hears you saying the so-called dumbest clown in the entire school system is smarter than you and he’s going to cart you away to the loony bin”

Ford laughs. “You know, now that I think about it, there may actually be a way to tell him off for what he said about you and get away with it scott-free”

Stan raises an eyebrow. “Yeah? How so?”

Ford smirks. “I think you should try to graduate out of spite”

Stan’s not sure he follows. “Whaddya mean?”

“I mean, think about it” Ford stands from his swing and begins to pace back and forth. “The principal called both of us down even though he only wanted to speak to me, and then he talked shit about you even though he knew you were sitting right outside his door?” he pauses in his pacing. “Stan, he knew that you could hear him. Maybe he didn’t intend for you to listen in when he was talking to Ma and Pa about my scholarship opportunity, but he knew you’d be listening the moment you were brought up in the conversation”

That’s…true. Stan was just about to sneak out before he heard them say his name.

“He’s expecting you to fail, and he wants to put it in everyone else’s head too. He thinks it’s the easy way out, because if you choose to fail out on your own than he doesn’t have to take responsibility for being such a shitty educator. It gives him the chance to say look how he didn’t even try instead of look at how we failed him.”

“But if you proved him wrong? Imagine the look on his face when he has to be the one to place that diploma in your hand. Imagine him having to look you dead in the eyes and tell you he’s proud of you. You’ll know he’s speaking bullshit, but he knows he can’t talk shit about you anymore without making himself look bad.” Ford smirks. “Matter of fact, imagine the looks on the faces of everyone who’s ever doubted you walking across that stage. Pa alone is gonna have a heart attack”

Ford’s smile softens. “I already know that you’re much smarter than you’re given credit for, and I think it’s about time that everyone else recognizes that too”.

Stan’s cheeks burn red, and he shyly kicks at the sand. “Heh, thanks. I appreciate it.” He says. “But even if I did manage to graduate, what am I supposed to do with a high school diploma? Every job application I’ve been skinning through recently says college, college, college”

“Well…” Ford taps at his chin. “Then why not go out for college?”

Okay, now he’s taking things too far.

“Pardon?” Stan mocks, because if Ford thinks that Stan’s going to willingly take four more years of classes than maybe he should be carted away to a loony bin.

“I’m serious!” Ford blushes. “Maybe not a high intensity school like West Coast Tech, but college is so much more freeing than high school, Stanley. It’s not class after class on subjects that other people tell you to take. It’s personalized. If you hate science class so much, you never have to take another science class again”

Ford’s blush darkens. “I know that school is a big drag and all, but if you asked me?” he averts his gaze. “I think you’d really benefit from business school. Charisma and social intelligence is the number one thing that big name businesses are looking for, and I know you’re filled to the brim with both. Ultimately it is your decision, but…” Ford fiddles with his thumbs. “Just…just consider it, okay?”

For a brief moment, Stan just wants to burst out into hysterical laughter. Ford’s been offered the opportunity of a lifetime at one of the best schools in the country, and he’s still taking the time to help out his good-for-nothing brother who’s been cheating off of his exams for the past ten years.

Instead he settles for a roll of his eyes. “Alright, Professor Poindexter, I’ll consider it”

Ford giggles at that, and for a few moments neither of them says anything, watching the waves gently lapping on the beach in the short distance. It’s a comfortable silence, a reassuring sort of feeling that Stan hasn’t felt in a long time.

The frantic beeping of Pa’s wristwatch interrupts them, and both boys flinch at the sound in unison. For a moment Stan is worried that Pa’s standing behind them having heard every word, but when he glances over at Ford, he sees him rolling up his shirt sleeve to reveal that he’s the one wearing the watch, and clicks the alarm off.

“Pa made me borrow it so I wouldn’t be late for the presentation with the school board” he rubs awkwardly at the back of his head. “I’ll probably give it back as soon as I get home tonight”

Stan smirks. “You still hate the sound of that thing too, huh?”

“I can still hear it in my nightmares,” Ford exaggerates, his eyes going wide, and the twins burst into laughter as they both stand from the swings and stretch their arms and legs to wake them up from sitting for so long.

Ford wipes at his eye as he fidgets with the wristwatch. “So…do you think you’re going to be okay?”

That in itself is a pretty loaded question that could take him all night to answer, but all things considering…

“Yeah,” Stan smiles. “I think I’ll be okay”

Ford smiles back, and gestures with his thumb towards the direction of the pawn shop. “Then I’m going to head home and get ready for my presentation. You coming?”

Stan shakes his head. “I think I’ll stay out here and just…watch the ocean for a little while longer”

Ford’s smile softens, but he doesn’t say anything else. He turns heel and walks back towards the house, and it feels as though a giant weight has just been lifted off of Stan’s chest. He glances back to watch Ford go, but finds comfort in the feeling that he feels nothing at all.

~~~

Nearly five hours later, Stan sits at home, watching television on the couch to pass the time. Just out of the corner of his eye he sees Ford slip into the kitchen and gently click the door closed. Stan shuts the TV off, and spins around on the couch to face his brother.

“Well?” Stan asks, though he knows he doesn’t even need to bother asking, given that Ford looks like he’s about to burst. With a shaking hand, Ford reaches into his pocket and pulls out a glinting white envelope.

If he’s trying to keep an air of mystery about it, he’s doing a really bad job, because all at once his composure breaks and the smile that spreads across his face looks as though it could burn out the sun.

“They loved me!” He shouts, excitedly pacing the floor. “They told me they’ve never seen anyone else like me!”

His smile is so contagious that it hurts.

Perhaps another day, in another timeline, Stan would take offense to Ford’s excitement to bounce off to the other end of the country without him. Perhaps he’d even lash out, or do something he would’ve immediately regretted.

But here and now, Stan couldn’t be happier for his brother if he tried.

[desencante]

oi, march reads! I read a lot this month.

Please, don’t forget to leave a comment or kudos for the authors of these fics!

(The texts aren't the summary, just my ramble thoughts.)

Loving Cannibalism by glittering_git/@glittering-git (Mature, 2 works, 952 words) | Post-War, Angst, Established Relationship

Two marvellous and poetic histories about (loving) cannibalism. This is such a dark and heavy theme but the author does a great job writing and makes me enjoy reading them. (And I'm definitely here for more.)

(Please, read the Author's Tags.)

don’t say you love me, that’s extortion by LowerEastSide/@lower-east-side (Explicit, 1k) | Post-War, Angst, Fluff, Established Relationship

It is a domestic and loving and little sad history – about not saying 'I love you' but acting in that way.

The Pink Paradox by vina_writes/@dracothecupcake (Teen and Up, 1k) | Post-War, Humor, Auror Harry, Unspeakable Draco

Harry Potter Is Obsessed With Draco Malfoy TM. And Draco has pink hair. Have a fun time!

Harry's Promise by JosephineStone (Teen and Up, 2k) | Post-War, Angst, Reunion, Established Relationship

This one it's kind of part two of Circumpolar. The history continues the consequences of Draco's change, after the war – left me with a warm heart.

Burnt Casserole by Samunderthelights/@samunderthelights (General Audiences, 2k) | Post-War, Fluff, Established Relationship

Nervous Draco for Meeting Ron and Hermione. Getting back together and meeting your boyfriend's friends (who may hate you) showing them your (not) great cooking abilities.

Magical Homes, and Where to Find Them (in the arms of your lover) by Erebeus/@erebeus-roxy (General Audiences, 2k) | Post-War, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship

Who doesn't want some fluff established relationship sometimes? Harry has a painful case at work and then comes home to a calm and domestic night with his husband.

Together Like This by shealwaysreads/@shealwaysreads (Explicit, 3k) | Post-War, Getting Back Together

Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World TM. I find it so interesting reading stories where Draco denies Harry's love because of the war, and Harry is there to change his mind. Here we have that and it's written the super talented shealwaysreads.

For Old Times' Sake by thestarryknight/@the-starryknight (Teen and Up, 3k) | Post-War, Drugs, Potioneer Draco, Artist Harry

This one gives me such a cosy and domestic vibe. "'It's Complicated' is their relationship status" resume perfect what this fic is. (There're some cool references too, so pay attention.)

Like Gold by The_Sinking_Ship/@the-sinking-ship (Explicit, 4k) | Post-War, PWP

(It's always good to see.) Harry Has a Motorbike Just Like Sirius! Harry rides a motorbike and Draco rides him.

Harry and Draco's Little Talk by Ladderofyears (Teen and Up, 5k) | Post-War, Angst, Established Relationship, mpreg

Who doesn't hear 'I need to talk to you' by someone you like and run with? Harry thinks Draco will break up with him and freak (a little) out but maybe the subject of Draco's conversation is quite the opposite.

Sugar Sweet by The_Sinking_Ship/@the-sinking-ship (Teen and Up, 5k) | Post-War, Humor, Fluff, Auror Harry, Healer Draco

It is a very sweet story with a surprise party for Draco and Harry getting late but not so late.

Show them the night that they dreamed about before by fluxweed/@fluxweeed (Explicit, 6k) | Post-War, PWP, Threesome, Boss/Employee Relationship, Dubious Consent

(Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter/Percy Weasley)

All I have to say is: 😳😯🤫😈🔥🥵🔥🥵😈😏!

This Is How by bixgirl1/@bixgirl1 (Explicit, 6k) | Post-War, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, a/b/o

Omega Draco has an incident in the ministry Alpha Harry is there to help. After they fall in love! (One more reason to read: it's written by bixgirl1!)

It Never Occurred to Me That I Would Fall in Love With a Frenchman by lamerezouille/@elsalapizza (Teen and Up, 6k) | Post-War, Angst, Humor, Established Relationship

OMG, I never read something like this! The plot was so surprising – you will ever think about the Malfoys meeting the Dursleys? BOOM! Here it's a very awkward dinner that looks funny but has some depth stuff going on.

Litany by thistle_verse/@thistle-verse (Mature, 7k) | Post-War, Angst, Pandemic, Isolation, Touch-Starved, Ghost Draco

Ghost's story isn't my cup of tea, but I give this one a chance and don't regret it. The magic world is passing through a pandemic (just like us!), Harry is doing quarantine at home alone until ghost Draco, directly from Azkaban, shows up. Then, we have fluffy and sad conversations between the two and a turn of events in the end. (And lots of lists.)

As the Crow Flies by thestarryknight/@the-starryknight (Mature, 7k) | Post-War, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Animagus Draco, Werewolf Harry

Draco helps Harry on a full moon night. Domestic vibes with some angst. 10/10!

Circumpolar by LowerEastSide/@lower-east-side (Teen and Up, 8k) | Hogwarts Era, Angst, Sectumsempra Scars

I see an amazing fanart and spend some days obsessed with Draco having worse scars from Sectumsempra. (There's, in this list, another two fanfics with this concept.) In this one, because of the pretty bad scars Draco's plan about the war change – is interesting to imagine how one incident could put another thing in perspective for him. And Draco and Harry have a touching conversation on the Astronomy Tower! (I'm a sucker for long expressive conversations about feelings.)

if somebody’s there, then tell me who. by kryptidfox/@kryptidfoxwrites (Explicit, 11k) | Post-War, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Housemates

Much more like Idiots to Lovers! Draco has a disastrous way to make Harry notice him – bring every man possible to a one-night stand then call their name very loud – until things go wrong when he brings a guy named Harry. I constantly have a good time reading these two making dumb thing in their path to be together.

Commander by Cassiopeias_shadow/@cassiopeiasshadow (Explicit, 14k) | Post-War, Horror, Suspense, Drugs, Animagi, Auror Harry, Light dom/sub

Almost a case fic with dark things in the plot. Draco is addicted to potions and in a pretty bad place when he has a chance to help the auros in a big case. It turns out that Draco got so much involved with the case he needed Harry, to make him put his feet on the ground – the fine line between doing everything to make up for your past or lost yourself doing things for the great good. Featuring: Harry as a snake and parselmouth kink.

(Please, read the Author's tags.)

Fire and Wonder by Lomonaaeren (Mature, 15k) | Post-War, Dark-ish, Veela

Lomonaaeren written dark Harry, I'm here for! After the war, Harry get wing and has some controversial ideas about The Great Good. So, we see him put these ideas into practice with his mate Draco.

Hold what's dear in your hands (and never let go) by Fae_vorite/@faevorite-main-blog, PollyWeasley/@polly-weasley (Explicit, 16k) | Post-War, Arrange Marriage, a/b/o, mpreg

I was always here for some a/b/o and this story is a chef kiss! Harry can't find a partner; So he goes to an upgrade tinder and matches with Draco, then they live happily ever after. Featuring intersex Draco and a lot of sex kinks.

Keep Me Close (I Need Your Faith) by aviforsrose (Explicit, 23k) | Post-War, Angst, Friends with Benefits, Light dom/sub

Idiots in love! The old same GOOD story: I love him but he loves me? Yes, of course! Man, you two have been pinning each other for years now. Let's do some love confessions.

The Critiquer by dysonrules (Explicit, 24k) | Post-War, Humor, Romance, Secret Identity

Drunk Harry doing dumb stuff with Seamus and Dean, take him a very funny drive to Draco's hearty. Draco and his assistant interactions was another very humorous part. Can't forget to congratulate who made all of the edits, principally the text divisors.

The Nobility of Ascent by Lomonaaeren (Explicit, 27k) | Post-War, Angst, Politics

I love reading Lomonaaeren stories with dark-ish Harry. This is another great example of just not the good or evil side. Harry can't Make a Better World because of pureblood politics so he goes to Draco for help.

Can I tell you something? by GallaPlacidia (Not Rated, 33k) | Post-War, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Sectumsempra Scars, Drugs, Auror Harry, Burlesquedance Draco

What I can say about this one? It's by GallaPlacidia, go read! The story takes place during a few years, after the war, Harry collides in parties with a drugged Draco, things happen – they lived a very real journey of connecting with someone, learning to love and to be loved and understanding the mistakes of the past... 10/10!

Says The Magpie To The Morning (Sorrow, Take Your Own Advice) by Femme/@femmequixotic (Explicit, 33k) | Post-War, Angst, Getting Back Together

Draco Horrible Sad TM after a breakup with Harry. Featuring so much PDA by Pansy/Ron, angst, miscommunication, angst, sharing a house with your ex and angst. If you are up to a sad time before a happy ending this nice story is here.

Eight Days (to Save the World) by gnarf/@gnarf (Mature, 47k) | Post-War, Friend to Lovers, Housemates, Case Fic, Auror Harry, Unspeakable Draco

Shit happens in The Wizard World again so Harry, Draco and company get together to Save The World Again. What will you do if you receive an order not so right by your superior? A very interesting story begins with the ministry's haunted easy target to blame for the new conspiracy. Enjoy too Protective Harry.

Turning Leaves by Kbrick (Explicit, 112k) | Post-War, Angst, Fluff, Time Travel, Auror Harry, Unspeakable Draco

Draco Tries to Concert His Friendship With Harry by Time Travel. This gives me The Cursed Child vibe but so much better, Draco goes to several scenarios trying to change one important moment in the past to make Harry like-like now. A great story who think about what will happen if Draco acts differently in the Hogwarts years.

Cannot Save You Now by tigrelilje (Mature, 132k) | Hogwart Era, Angst, Horror, Dark, Vampire Harry

Harry dies and comes back (as a vampire) for revenge! If you want to see Harry hating almost everybody this fanfic this here. Featuring: Slytherin Harry.

[punkpresentmic]

Traitor Aizawa AU Pt. 4 — 1, 2, 3

cw for implied sexual content, but nothing that warrants a mature rating

Hizashi digs back into his husband’s case, & it's clear investigators still don’t particularly WANT him to—partially for distrust, partially for the still-secret letters, he's sure. But he does what he can to show them that he wants this mess cleaned up. They reluctantly give him what they have to chew on: not much—a vague lead, an unreliable source. It puts Hizashi no closer to the letters or why they were taken.

The investigators only keep an eye on him until they get bored &/or annoyed, judging him airheaded or harmless. Once he’s away from prying eyes, he sets off on his own; Hizashi is already in deep with less-than-legal activities lately. He sneaks into their evidence archives.

The letters aren’t there.

Hizashi skips out of the police station before he’s discovered sticking his nose where it shouldn’t be. He has to get back to school anyway. After teaching English & having a shitty, lonely lunch, an idea occurs to him. If it was Nezu who suggested the letters be taken… would Nezu have kept the letters?

So Hizashi sets out about a new kind of heist. Nezu is in a meeting & the principal’s office is locked, but Hizashi as a tenured faculty member has access to anywhere in UA. Of course it’ll record that he entered, but that’s not Hizashi’s concern right now. He goes through every file in Nezu’s cabinet. Nothing. His heart sinks. Then he notices Nezu’s desk drawer has a simple lock on it. As a last ditch effort, he picks it with a bobby pin. There’s a bowl of candy inside. It’s the only idea he has left to pick it up & see if there’s anything underneath &.... Sure enough, just like in a bad movie the drawer has a false bottom. Under it, there’s a neat stack of letters bound with a rubber band.

They’ve all been opened.

Hizashi immediately seeks out the one marked with his name, tugs it out, skims it. It’s everything Shouta said it was. It ends with I love you. The script is shaky. Hizashi’s heart is in his throat. Oh, Shou…

Nezu coughs; Hizashi nearly jumps out of his skin. “You know,” Nezu says, “a locked drawer in a secure area might also be reasonably assumed to be alarmed.”

Hizashi meets his eyes, lets the letter fall to the desk. “Care to explain what these are?”

Nezu is impossible to read. “They are exactly what they appear to be: letters left behind by Aizawa Shouta, confiscated at the time of their discovery.”

“He left me a letter,” Hizashi repeats, careful to reign in his voice as he shakes his head. “He left his students letters. We all thought he left without even saying goodbye.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Nezu notes, tone even and gentle. “You are aware he left a clear & concise description of his crimes. I do believe that’s going to be important to remember going forward.”

Hizashi grinds his teeth at that. “Why wasn’t I made aware of this?”

Nezu backs down with a sigh. He climbs into his desk chair, Hizashi moving to stand on the other side of the desk. Nezu gazes sadly down at the pile of letters. “There were two main factors we had to consider. Firstly, at the earliest stages of the investigation, it was unclear if you or any of the students had secret involvement—the letters could have held nefarious communications.” Nezu took a breath. “We no longer believe that after thorough analysis. Though perhaps this should not come as a surprise—if there was anything we knew about our Eraserhead, it was his steadfast aversion to extraneous details or wasting time.”

Hizashi’s heart throbs painfully in his chest.

“As for the second reason: the emotional & psychological impact that these letters could have on our community. Our hero students with their steadfast trust in their instructor were particularly vulnerable. & you, Yamada, are not an exception to a similar emotional vulnerability. In the interest of damage control, in doing my best to hold the UA community together & keep it from further collapse, the letters were confiscated promptly & without notification of their existence.”

Hizashi’s fingernails dig into his palm, fists clenched to stop his hands shaking. “I’m an adult. & a pro. I don’t need the same protection as 15 year-olds. We’re talking about my husband. I think I’m entitled to some transparency.”

“I never said you weren’t,” Nezu placates. “But I wanted you to receive this information once we had a better understanding of the situation. & once you had emotionally stabilized from what I’m sure is an unforgivable betrayal.”

‘Unforgivable.’ That wording was purposeful, Hizashi knew. It almost begged him to dispute it.

Hizashi spread his hands. “So you don’t think I’m emotionally stable? & you let me keep watching over the next generation?” His laugh was intended to be dry at most, but it comes out nearly hysterical.

Nezu sighs again. “Yamada, you were hurting. & you refused the counselling we recommended. You chose to work through your pain. We were not going to deny you that.”

“Principal, correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m not really buying that you’d have shown me these letters even if I had gone to counselling.”

Nezu hummed. “What do you know about Eraserhead’s motivations, Yamada?”

He forces a smile through gritted teeth. He shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says, almost sunny. “Beyond the fact that he has them.”

“Indeed. I’d hoped you & this community would have time to heal. & I’d hoped in the meantime the investigation could provide further insight into why this happened. The rhetoric with which these letters were written is not something that can be overlooked.”

“I thought you said there weren’t any secret messages.”

“Codes & clandestine communications, no. Ulterior motives & further lies & attempted manipulation, on the other hand…” Nezu meets his eyes. “There’s a level of cunning with which these crimes were committed right under our noses, a level of plotting that got past even me. You must understand I am only trying to do what I can to protect my students & staff from any further harm or puppeteering at the hands of villains.”

Hizashi has to look away. He monitors his breathing, lets his head hang when it doesn’t come back under his control. Fists and teeth and heart clenched against all of this. Too much. It’s too much.

There’s a paw on his arm, then. “I’m sorry, Yamada. This was not an action intended to be harmful. You’re hurting. Of course you are. But you are also strong & intelligent. Meet with a counsellor. Talk to someone. Kayama is worried for you; that much is clear. There are people who care & want to help you through this. Please, Yamada. Don’t shoulder this alone.”

Hizashi does try seeing the counsellor. He leaves within fifteen minutes.

The next time Shouta arrives, as he said he would, he’s still absolutely ragged. But it doesn’t seem like he’s gotten worse. Aside from the smell. Hizashi has him take a shower. Shouta stepping into the room towel-drying his unruly hair in Hizashi’s fluffy robe is somewhere between endearing & heartbreaking. Hizashi pats the spot on the bed beside him. Shouta sits.

He tries asking again about the why, about the what caused you to do this. Again, Shouta can’t talk about it. Maybe soon, Shouta says noncommittally.

Hizashi relays the story about finding the letters, about reading his, about the confrontation with Nezu. Shouta looks concerned. Hizashi shakes his head, reiterates that he doesn’t quite have it in him to believe that Shouta is a villain here. But he can’t believe this blindly after all that’s happened. He needs information. Because this doesn’t make sense for the man he knows. Shouta nods. “I know.”

“Then why can’t you give me something to work with here?” Hizashi whispers, & they’re close.

“Two reasons,” Shouta breathes between them. “The first being that it would put me in danger of not being able to do what I need to do.” Then he gives Hizashi a small, shitty smile. “& the second is that if I tell you, you might try to come with me.”

Hizashi hums, drinking this in. “If I did, maybe you’d have someone to make sure you had your eye drops.”

It startles a snort out of Shouta, & his husband laughing in his bed is the most beautiful thing he’s seen in months, & Hizashi knows he’s already too far gone, & Hizashi doesn't hesitate when he kisses him this time.

They sink deeply into it immediately. It’s been so long. Too long. Hizashi makes a move to take it further—it’s been too long—& Shouta pulls back to start on the ‘I haven’t proven myself to you, I’ve done nothing to deserve your trust, etc etc’ spiel. Hizashi wants none of it. & frankly he’s a little sick of people making decisions ‘for his own good.’

& he sure as hell isn’t going to let his husband get away without knowing that he’s wanted here, that he’s missed, desired too. Hizashi tells him as much.

Ultimately they fall together easily, if not guiltlessly. There’s a heaviness between them even as they press desperately close, a weight to their actions. It’s a certain relief—this shared knowledge that they’re still them, or at least willing to try. ‘Deserved’ or not, to Hizashi it’s like catching a glimpse of the Sun after days trapped underground—too bright to look at directly, yet simultaneously the most sublime relief.

Hizashi is naked in Shouta’s lap, Shouta’s face buried in his chest. When Hizashi comes down from basking in the afterglow, it’s to realize that Shouta isn’t just trembling under him. Shouta's eyes are too dry these days to make actual tears, but the shuddering & quiet, hiccupping sobs are unmistakable.

Hizashi shushes him gently, kisses his eyes, whispers about not straining them more, about how he’s got him, how he’s here, how he’s not going away, how he loves him. How they’re going to get through this together. Hizashi lays them down, holding him near, stroking his hair. This time, it’s Shouta who falls asleep in his arms.

He’s still gone by morning.

(pt. 5)