#average bathroom during someone's period

[axeoverblade]

Classmate

PART ONE (CURRENT); PART TWO ; PART THREE

Earth 42! Miles Morales x fem! reader

Synopsis! For the life of you , you couldn’t understand why Miles had it out to get you so bad. If it wasn’t for the mid-year seat change, he wouldn’t have even acknowledged your existence.

MASTERLIST

Genre: light fluff, enemies to lovers like trope, light bully!Miles

Warnings: mentions of sa (nothing happens just mentioned), mentions of violence, maybe foul language but I think that’s it enjoy!

word count: 5k

Authors comment: I keep seeing School themed hcs and I had to say me sphewl(?), planned to be one shot but thinking about a part two. Sorry for any bad translations my Spanish is meh, please leave a like <3

Do not copy! All rights reserved to ©axeoverblade

It was known half way through the school year at Visions Academy the teachers changed the assigned seats. Being in your last hour, you were pretty much comfortable sitting next to almost anyone in the class.

Albeit, you did have a few in your mind you would rather not be sat with. Kids who didn’t like to do the group work, kids who talked too much, kids who always were trying to copy answers, etc.

The teacher went through the neatly organized desks column by column, starting on the left side closest to the door for the new seating chart. There were only four columns seeing as the wooden desks were double seated. You listened as she went through assigning kids to chairs, finally reaching the last column. There were about seven other kids along with you still waiting to be called to the four desks available. All the kids left were somewhat iffy options to be next to for the rest of the year.

…

Only you and three others were left. She called out to the second to last desk, “Amanda and John”. You sigh a breath of relief happy to not be sat next to John who had a crush on you, your thoughts replaying all the times he had tried to get with you. Feelings were not mutual. “ And Finally Y/n and Miles.”

You walked over to the seat from the front of the room, seeing the Miles kid already getting comfortable in his new seat closest to the wall.

You never had the chance to talk to Miles much. Actually, you don’t think you’ve ever talked to him. He was very reticent in the classroom. The moment he finished his work which was always relatively quick, he was out of the class leaving a few minutes to spare coming back before the bell rang.

There was a reason you never made an effort to talk to Miles. In fact, it was more like you endeavored to avoid him. His hedonistic friend group were known for being-, uncivil. They treated others horribly, always making someone do something that would make your stomach churn if you had to be the one to do it. And even though Miles was known to never actively participate in those things, anyone who hung around people who did those things were bound to start someday.

What confused you though, he was extremely smart unlike the jerks he was always with. You heard he was one of the highest scoring kids, every report card stamped with straight As. That wasn’t much at this school, almost everyone had straight As and high Bs, but all his grades averaged above 94.

There was also no denying he was very attractive. Surprisingly he was never seen with anyone romantically, unlike his friends who always had a girl or two under their arms. There were definitely people were lined up at his feet though, always trying to cling to him. He always just brushed them off, sometimes blunter than he needed to be.

You had seen it once, a girl you hadn’t really liked had gone up to him during passing period asking for his number only for him to look at her and walk right past her. All his friends and their shallow twats of girlfriends laughed at her, walking with Miles past her.

She cried in bathroom for forty minutes after.

You stood next to your seat, putting your bag down. “Hi I’m y/n” you said, formally introducing yourself to Miles for the first time. He looked up to you from his phone. You watched as he took his time studying you, making you slightly flustered as his eyes roamed your body. He looked back down at his phone, disregarding your presence. “I know.”

You blinked a few times processing the abrupt rudeness.

You rolled your eyes and whispered a few choice words to yourself about the interaction as you sat down, realizing you were stuck next to him for the rest of the year.

You pulled out your phone, texting your friend and roommate Mei, who was across the room, about how rude Miles was. She looked up, seeing you staring at her irritated. She giggled before texting back.

Mei: He so fine tho 😍 ask em if he needs a dog

You: Mei 💀

You: he’s so rude n for what? Like he could’ve just nodded or said his name. I know he got that whole “bad boy” thing goin but ain’t have to do allat

Mei: Ion know gl tho 💯

You: Ur no help 😭 Ima ask for a seat change

Mei: It's the first five minutes you have sat next to each other, maybe he is just nervous from ur emmense beauty 😩 I know I would be

Mei: PLUS u know Ms Reita does not b swappin seats. You know how many times I asked to be moved from Jessica only for her to say tuff luck and move on? Seventeen times. Just give it time n maybe it gets better you never know

You: 😐

You shook your head and put your phone down as the teacher started passing out the work. It was a normal worksheet due by the end of class. You went through, solving the easier problems before going back and finishing the ones you skipped.

You were on your last problem when Miles hand shot up lazily. Ms.Reita looked at him and sighed, knowing that he was going to leave for almost the rest of class period if she let him leave the room. “Is your worksheet finished?” “I wouldn’t be raisin’ my hand if it wasn’t.” “Watch it Morales, wouldn’t want to have to tell your Mom you have detention would you?” He sighed before mockingly smiling “sorry Ms.Reita, can I so humbly excuse myself?” He batted his eyelashes for extra effect, clearly tired of the interaction and ready to leave. She huffed as pointed to the door. You snickered to yourself watching the exchange. He looked at you, a glint of amusement washing over his eyes, but the look left as soon as it appeared. He looked away getting up and walking out.

_

You walked with Mei back to your shared dorm, talking about the nonsense that flooded your minds. Luckily for you, it was Friday and you could go home tonight, you just had to go grab your bag and you would be free from this hell hole.

…

“Alright Mei I’ll see you on Monday” you said, grabbing your suitcase and backpack, pulling it with you to leave. She smiled and waved, still packing. “Bye baby mama” you rolled your eyes playfully at what she said. She would constantly make jokes about how she could care for you and be your sugar momma, even though she was just as broke as you were.

You walked toward the lobby of the school, seeing the exit to the building so close. It felt like knowing air was near when you were drowning, finally being able to catch a break and breathe- “oh sorry baby girl, didn’t see you there.” You felt someone bump into you, too intentional for it to be accident. You cringed at the nickname and gathered yourself. Luckily you hadn’t fallen, just stumbled causing your bag to fall off you. “Don’t call me that John.” You said, picking up your bag and slinging it in on your shoulder. “You know you like it” he said, closer than he needed to be. Recoiling at the sound of him so close to your ear, you stuck your hand out and lightly pushed him further from you. “I really don’t, I already told you I want nothin’ to do with you.” You continued to walk to the exit, only for him to walk beside you. “Cmon baby I can show you the world, stop playing hard to get.” You looked at him, stopping in your tracks, “I’m not playing hard to get, this is me playing I don’t want you” “so you admit you're playing about not wanting me?” He said, smirking. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, just wanting to go home. “For the final time John, I am not interested.” You walked again, this time he didn’t follow because his friends were walking up to him. “I’ll see you on Monday baby!” He called out loudly, drawing attention to the both of you. You scowled and walked faster out the building, happy to not have to see John for a few days.

Unbeknownst to you, Miles was watching the interaction from the beginning, ignoring his friends talk about the girls that passed or the sexist comments they made. He noted how you reacted to John, how much disgust surged through your body language. He disliked John, but for separate reasons. John was one of those guys. Class A jock who didn’t know when to quit. Also didn’t know when to shut their mouths. Granted, those were the exact people he hung around. But at least he could tolerate their idiocy, and it was better than walking around the school alone all day. Only kid he hung around that wasn’t like that was his roommate Ganke.

He watched as you scowled and left the school. He shrugged minding his own business, zoning back into the conversation about who had the biggest boobs.

Monday rolled around quicker than you could’ve imagined. And it felt like a Monday, which never helped. You trudged into your last hour groggily, just wanting to be done with the day so you could go back to your dorm and sleep. Walking over to your seat, you looked at Mei across the room. She wiggled her eyebrows, mouthing for you to initiate conversation with Miles. You rolled your eyes, sitting down. Miles was sketching lightly on the worksheet already passed out on the desks. You tried to look at it, but the braid that draped over his shoulder covered your view. You didn’t want to seem invasive, so you just grabbed your sheet and began working.

Finishing the sheet quickly, you got on your phone, scrolling through your socials. You saw a news alert flash across the top of your screen, some message about “the prowler striking again” over the weekend. You swiped it away.

You didn’t hate the prowler in all honesty, but you would never admit that out loud. Whoever was under the mask did bad things, but usually only to bad people. Usually.

The police barely did anything anymore, making it hard to even go outside without getting mugged or groped or something bad. With the prowler being out and about, some idiots have been scared off the streets, enough to where you could at least walk to and from your family apartment to school. In your eyes, the vigilante kinda helped a little.

“Stop tapping, its annoyin” a voice rudely interrupted you from your thoughts. You looked over to see miles looking at you, semi-irritated. You hadn’t realized you were tapping the desk, something you did unconsciously when you were lost in your own mind. You pulled your hand back, putting it on your thigh, “my fault, ain need all that attitude though” you said looking at him. He rolled his eyes and started drawing again. “Whatcha’ sketching?” You asked, leaning towards him slightly. He looked at you with furrowed brows, blinking a couple of times, before going back to sketching ignoring your question. El tiene algunos nervios. Instead of just excusing his behavior like you did on Friday, you opted to invade his personal space; moving his braid, your head now hovering over his shoulder. He moved his body quickly, his reflexes faster than you could process. “Qué coño estás haciendo?” He said sternly, but you didn’t budge. “You didnt wanna respond” you said not looking at him, more focused on the drawing. “That ain’ answer my question” he said, you could feel the irritation laced in his voice, but instead of leaving him alone like he wanted, you grabbed the paper to get a better view. The drawing was a well portrayed mask of sorts, oddly similar to the prowlers, and a few weapons all sketched on the back of his paper. You raised your eyebrow at the drawing. He was actually really good at drawing, the detail for him to have started that less than twenty minutes ago impressed you. He snatched the paper back. You turned your head to him, seeing him looking at you with furrowed eyebrows, getting ready to say something. “Answer me next time and I won’t have to do that” you said before he could speak, a mocking smile laying on your lips. He rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath before going back to sketching.

One word, Regret.

You really wish you hadn’t decided to let you imaginary balls get the best of you. Because now Miles how a personal vendetta against you. Damn your pride. Within the span of few weeks he somehow had broken into your locker and trashed you books, he made sure it wasn’t anything that you couldn’t fix easily though, just a few torn pages. He constantly would shove you, which he mude sure to do lightly to not actually hurt you, into the lockers when he passed you in the nearly empty halls when he was with his friends. He would say the most outlandish things to you whenever you passed him when the halls were too crowded and others could see what he did. He made sure his friends didn’t mess with you though, knowing they would take it way too far how they had with the other kids they harassed. And even though you tried to ignore him the first few weeks hoping he would stop, he never did. You swore you could feel yourself loosing your mind.

Miles had only originally planned on pestering you for a day or two to get the point across that you should’ve left him alone, but then he realized how fun it was to provoke you. You became his entertainment, or at least that was the reason that he told himself he went out of his way to annoy you. And now that he had gotten on your last nerve, you were like a ticking time bomb every time.

You made school easier for him, giving him something to look forward to. Your reactions were always so animated, almost comical, making messing with you so funny. He didn’t just mess with you in sense of picking on you., he would mess with you feelings too. He looked for you in the halls just to go behind you and pull you by your backpack into him. You would lose your balance then he would put his hands on you waist to stabilize you, whispering in your the cusp of your ear sternly to “watch where you’re going mami”, a nickname he now would often call you just to see how irritated and flustered you would get. You would always reply with a snarky remark, something along the lines of “he pulled you into him”, always stuttering through the sentence no matter the amount of times he had done this to you, siempre fue tan mono a él. Something that unintentionally brought his face to a smirk was how you never mentioned anything about the nicknames he gave you like you did with John.

His friends would constantly make comments about how Miles liked you and now you were off limits, but every time he shot the idea down with a quick annoyed face. But perish the thought one of his friends gets talks about you the wrong way. They had seen the way Miles looked at the guy who had walked up to and called you pretty. Didn’t ask for your number, didn’t do anything weird, just called you pretty. The problem wasn’t even the compliment, it was how genuinely big you smiled but it wasn’t because of him.

Miles wasn’t going to deny he found you attractive. He had seen you the first day he walked into Vision academy a year ago and couldn’t get you out of his head for week. Hell you were probably the prettiest girl in the school, but maldito eres molestosa. When laying on the bed in his dorm room the nights he wasn’t out doing his prowler work, he could hear your pesky voice ringing in his ears, también pudo ver tu cara hermosa. He hated it. He hated how sometimes your face would pop up in his brain during a mission, and it would make him falter for a moment. Something as simple as hesitating, even for a millisecond, could’ve had him killed mid fight.

He didn’t actually care for you, at least that’s what he told himself. So you can understand why it bothered him so much that he hated weekends now, knowing it was extra days where he couldn’t see you, feel you. Even if it was just a brush on the shoulder when doing partner work, or him shoving you lightly when walking past, glaring at you like you were the one that bumped into him.

It annoyed you to no end you were stuck next to him for the rest of the year. What annoyed you even more was how attracted you were to him. He was so dismissive toward you, and for some reason you would sit in your room giggling with Mei about how his laugh, even though the only reason you had heard it was because he was making fun of you, was the most attractive thing you have ever heard.

…

Luckily today was Friday so you could enjoy the weekend.

It had been a few months since you had been moved next to Miles, a few months since you decided to overstep a boundary you wish you hadn’t, a few months since you’ve been slowly loosing your sanity. Miles had taken it upon himself to mess with you in class, staying for almost the whole period now a days to do just that.

“If you would finish your work then we could be done already” you mumbled under your breath, looking at the shared work you had to do that Miles hadn’t even looked at, too engrossed in his phone. The two of you had been going back and forth since the start of class, now only roughly fifteen minutes left. He looked up to you, squinting from annoyance, “do you ever just, I don’t know, close your mouth?”. You rolled your eyes “If you, I don’t know, finish your half so I can go turn this in then yea maybe I would.” He scoffed, pulling the paper closer to him. A few minutes passed and he slid the paper over to you “don’t say anything else”. You looked at the paper, seeing he had completed his half of the work in record time, you must really annoy him. “Well if you just did that earlier” you said sarcastically, picking up the paper and walking over to the turn in bin, placing the paper in it.

As you walked back to your seat, John started to talk to you. You pursed your lips, walking past him heading to your seat behind him. That didn’t stop him, as all he did was turn his chair around to face you. “So the party is tonight, you can come-” he paused, putting emphasis on the word winking at you, hinting at something else. You looked at him disgusted. “And we can have a lot of fun, perfect chance for you to see how much you truly like me.” You blinked a few times, “yea no” was all you said before looking at your phone. You didn’t fail to hear the small, quiet breathy laugh that fell from Miles lips as he stared at his phone, overhearing the conversation. His laugh alone could make your knees buckle. You quickly brought yourself back to reality, not letting your mind flow with any positive thoughts about Miles. “Cmon’ baby, promise I’ll show you a good time.” “Ain’ I tell you not to call me that?” You said, annoyed that John just couldn’t leave you alone. “You know we locked in, you keep playin.” “John-” “aight hear me out, you come to the party, if you don’t have a nice time -which I can guarantee you will- I’ll leave you alone, how does that sound?” “You’ll leave me alone?” You said, intrigued by the offer. “If you come.” You sighed, “lemme ask my momma.” He smiled widely, happy to have finally convinced you. Miles secretly looked between the two of you with his eyebrows furrowed, thinking how pathetic John was.

A few minutes passed as John sat facing you, waiting for a response. You sighed, causing him to perk up. “I need to be home by 11, and you have to send me the address. My mom also needs your number and your mommas number, comprende?” He nodded quickly, typing all the information into your phone so you could send it to your mom. You sent the message, already regretting your decision.

Sure enough.

You sped walk home, the time nearing 10:45. Wiping the tear that trickled down your cheek, you scoffed. The party started off great, you and John had a great time, initially.

Then things got weird, he tried to take you to a bedroom upstairs, you declined, him being intoxicated, grabbed you forcefully to take you up. You were glad you were taught basic self defense. You kneed him in the bolas and grabbed your bag, quickly leaving. You wondered what would’ve happened if you had dranken something, where you wouldn’t have been fully aware of your surroundings. You hurrying to dismiss the thought, happy to be out the party

Normally you would be much more aware of the world around you, had you not been so lost in your thoughts. “Hey there pretty lady” you heard, you couldn’t catch a break tonight. You started walking quicker, almost jogging with your eyes focused ahead of you, as you just wanted to get home safely. “You ain’t hear us talkin to you?” Your eyes widened at the mention of us, realizing there was more than one. You searched for your switch blade that would usually be inside your pocket, but it was no where to be found. You figured it must’ve fallen out at the party, you silently cursed to yourself. Three men were now matching your speed, and suddenly were next to you.

“What’s a little momma like you doing out here all alone, don’t you know there’s bad guys out here?”

“Don’t worry baby, we’ll keep you safe”, they grabbed you forcefully covering your mouth so you wouldn’t alert anyone, not like anyone would help. They pulled you to the nearest alley. You bit the hand of whoever was covering your mouth, causing them to let go of your face. You took this as an opportunity to scream for dear life, only to be smacked into a state of drowsiness. You quickly shook yourself out of it, feeling the stinging sensation spread across your face. Your ear was ringing lightly, and you could’ve sworn this dude knocked your tooth loose. You spit at the guy across from you, seeing bloody saliva land on his face. The guy behind you who was holding you let go and moved to the side. Before you could react to the new found freedom, you were pushed roughly into the wall behind you. “Tonto puta, all you had to do was cooperate” the guy in front of you said, wiping the spit off his face.

Ready to accept whatever was going to happen, you closed your eyes and scrunched your face, only to hear screams of pain from the three men, followed by an uncanny silence.

You opened your eyes, seeing the prowler standing where the man in front of you once was with a bloody claw. The three men were laying on the ground, damn near lifeless. Your eyes widened, your mouth parting from the sight. The vigilante stared at you, you could see the eye like symbols displayed on the mask slightly widened at the sight of the hand-mark on your face before recomposing into a stoic, neutral setting. You were too shocked, and mostly scared to say anything.

The figure got closer, to which you could work out was a male. You took note of the two braids cascading down their neck behind the mask, as well as the oddly clean Jordan’s they sported. You didn’t have much time to take in their lanky appearance, as they took a final step towards you, making it so you had to look up at their mask. Their presence loomed over you eerily. You gaped at him, your pleading eyes filled with fear. You knew he wasn’t necessarily a villain per say, closer to the flip side if anything. He did just save you. But the thought of an individual being so much more powerful than you, knowing that at any moment he would always in control no matter what you did, threw your brain into a constant state of unease. Feeling your heart beating out your chest, you raised your hands lightly placing it on their chest to stop them from getting any closer, even though you knew they could easily overpower you no matter what you did. His heartbeat was slow, almost calming to feel. “Please” you whispered, voice barely leaving your larynx.

As quickly as he had come he left. You looked around, finally spotting him lurking on top of the building across from you, crouching along the ledge looking at you. You looked at the Prowler one last time, making eye contact with their mask silently mouthing a ‘thank you’. He flipped away to wherever else he goes, not acknowledging your gratitude. You nearly collapsed, sliding down the wall. Your hands aggressively wiped your face before meeting your hairline, resting there as you breathed ruggedly. The adrenaline you had was wearing off, and the bruises the men left you with became more prominent on your skin, as well as more painful. At least your opinion about the prowler was correct, he was a good guy after all, to you at least.

Returning to school on Monday was a catastrophe, news spread like wildfire about you being attacked by the three men, as well as your encounter with the Prowler. Random people were approaching you asking what is what like and other random questions revolving around your attack. No one however, was talking about what happened at the party. But you couldn’t blame them, not many people saw what had happened.

…

It was finally the last period. You wanted nothing more for this to blow over, and for you to be done with the day back in your dorm. You walked in, wavering slightly seeing John leaning on your desk. You noticed Miles sitting in his seat on his phone, eye bags deeper than usual.

You quickly sat down, trying your best to ignore John's attempts to talk to you.

“Y/n please it was an accident-”

You ignored him getting your pencil out of the top zipper of your bag.

“Y/n please just listen I was drunk and I didn’t know what I was doing you gotta believe me” he leaned toward to take your hand, causing you to flinch and pull back. You looked at him angrily “you think being drunk excuses anything?” Your voice was calm and almost at a whisper despite how you felt, trying your best to draw the least amount of attention. He sighed desperately, “No it doesn’t but you gotta see it from my perspective-” “what perspective John?!? The one where you tried to force yourself on me? Or the one where you tried to take me upstairs against my will? I swear if you come near me again, I won’t hesitate to cut your polla off, comprende?” Ms. Reita asked everyone to take their seats, causing John to look at you solemnly before scoffing and turning to his seat.

You huffed, putting your head between your crossed arms on the table. “What happened at the party?” You looked over to Miles surprised. You hadn’t expected him to ask you any questions, but if he did you figured it would be something about the prowler incident. “Nothin’.” You said dismissively. He looked at you skeptically. Before you could even react, he grabbed your phone off the desk and tucked it in his pocket. “You ain’ gettin’ it back til you tell me what happened.” “Why do you care so much?” “Your wrinkles n’ dark circles look worse than usual, wanna know why.” “Could say the same for you” he looked at you blankly. You sighed, “John got a lil’ too handsy is all, don’t worry ‘bout it. Can I have my phone back-“ “mami, how handsy?” His stern voice caught you off guard. He looked at John's direction for a split second, you could’ve sworn you’d seen Miles look at John with a look of determined death. He looked back at you eyebrows furrowed, “he tried to take me upstairs n’ I wasn’t feelin’ it, so he tried to make me” you uttered, a little quieter towards the end of your sentence. “Left before he could do anything” you finished, “can I get my phone back now?” You looked at him tiredly. He let out a simple huh and gave you your phone back, his full attention now on johns figure ahead in the seat diagonally ahead of him.

…

The class had been dismissed, luckily Miles had decided to leave you alone today, you were too tired to deal with his antics anyway. Walking over to Mei dismissing John's stare, you two began walking out of the class heading to the lobby so you head back to your dorm room. As you were walking back Mei stopped at a vending machine to get a couple snacks for the dorm so you two could have a movie night. You waited as she inserted her money, clicking which snacks you both liked to buy them. As she was stuffing the snacks in her bag zipping it up, a student screamed “FIGHT”. You looked over seeing a crowd forming and walked over to see what was happening. Bullying your way to the front you saw Miles on top of John, pounding John's blood stricken face damn near permanently into the floor. Your eyes enlarged at the sight. Miles was clearly irate, and from the looks of it, had no plans of stopping. A security guard quickly ran in and grabbed miles off John's limp body. Miles spit at John, yelling something at him in Spanish that you couldn’t hear over the commotion. You looked at John's body, seeing him look almost unconscious as he coughed violently and rested on his elbows, trying to catch his breath. You gaped at Miles, shock written all over your face. His chest rose and fell quickly as he looked around the room seeing all the people watching. His eyes stopped as they met yours, his gaze softening slightly before he looked away. A huff fell from his lips as he was dragged to the principal's office. He jerked his arm away, muttering something about how he knew how to walk.

John had to be sent to the hospital.

Miles was in the principal's office, sitting silently as John's parents screamed at the principal while Miles’s mother sat next to him upset. “My child is a great kid! And how is he supposed to feel safe in this school anymore knowing this can happen again, huh?” John's mom spewed mindlessly, ranting about how she was going to press charges. Miles scoffed, causing Rio to look at him with a look of “watch your mouth before I watch it for you.” He just looked down at his hands in his lap.

Miles walked out of the classroom to head back to his shared dorm. He couldn’t get out of his mind what John had done to you. As vague as your response was, he knew more had happened between you and John. He didn’t know why it bothered him so deeply, it wasn't even really his business. He knew the thought of someone being touched like that made him upset, but he felt pure outrage from this specifically, and he knew deep in his heart it was because it was because it was you who had gone through it.

As much as he hated to admit it, he knew he felt something different for you when he intervened the night the three men attacked you. He almost added three bodies to his belt, for you.

Usually, as bad as it sounds, he would mostly let people get robbed or thrown around in alleyways. He would help occasionally if it sounded gruesome or of dire need for assistance. But he had to save his city from the sinister six, and petty crimes that were bound to happened weren’t the ideal way to do that. But the voice screaming sounded familiar, kinda sounded like you. The thought of you being in danger offset his nerves, and he knew a you were going to a party that night so he went, just to check.

Sure enough.

He stalked you from above the rest of your walk home just to make sure nothing else happened.

He walked into the lobby consumed by his own thoughts, snapping back to reality as he overheard John talking to his friends about how “y/n finally let me hit, she was so tight-”. He paused in his tracks. Ain’ no way acaba de escuchar lo que pensó que hizo. He turned to the direction of John's voice, this was now his business. He walked over, becoming increasingly irate the more John talked about “how much you loved it”. John turned, hearing footsteps approaching alarming quickly. He saw Miles, John knew Miles had heard about what really happened at the party. John scoffed, somewhat anxious he had been caught in his lie and afraid Miles would try to embarrass him in front of his friends. He quickly spoke before Miles even had the chance to say a word,“You ain’ needed here Miles-” John was cut off by a fist colliding with his face, not what he was expecting at all. Johns friends gasped or yelled in shock, Miles didn’t stop though. Miles didn’t even say anything, small grunts of anger being the only thing leaving his lips as John hit the floor. Miles siguan latiendo la mierda fuera de él.

“What you won't even speak huh?” John's mom said, facing Miles. He furrowed his eyebrows at her. “You wanna send my baby boy to the hospital and have no reason why? Why are you picking on my kid huh? You-” “You think your kid is the best thing on Gods green earth”Miles scoffed, cutting her off. “Cause he is, my kid wouldn’t hurt a fly and you-”“your oh so wonderful kid tried to rape a girl then went around yappin’ bout’ how much she enjoyed it.” The room fell silent. The principal eyes went wide, “Uh-Uhm, how about we resume this tommorow-” “well hold on,” Rio spoke for the first time, “My son intervened and helped someone in danger because their son was making girls unsafe in the school? Why is he being punished?” “Well Mrs.Morales we didn’t know that happened-” “so you immediately assumed my son was the cause of this not even getting evidence before?” “Well he did start-” “uhn-uh, their child is making the school more unsafe than Miles ever did. Why aren’t they being scolded for this?”

The principal apologized, saying Miles would be suspended for the rest of the week for starting the fight, but no charges could be pressed to avoid anybody getting into serious trouble.

Miles sat in the passenger seat of his moms car, the leather caressing his skin as he looked out the window. A hushed silence had fallen over the two a while ago. Silence is always worse than actually being screamed at, the anticipation is always so suffocating. “So.. who’s the girl?” His mom said, looking at the road ahead. Miles glanced at her before looking back out the window, “classmate.” She nodded, humming. Rio knew her son, and she knew Miles wouldn’t damn near end a kids life just just for some classmate.

“Ella tiene un nombre?” He sighed lightly, “Y/n.” Rio nodded and hummed again, looking at miles through the corner of her eye. “At some point throughout the week, I expect her over for dinner.” “I don’t even have her number, how is she supposed to know” Rio clicked her teeth and smirked,

“Encontrarás una manera”.

©axeoverblade

#42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 #miles morales #spiderman #spiderman into the spiderverse #prowler miles #prowler x reader #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #miles 42 #42 miles morales #miles x reader #miles x y/n #miles x you #kyoutani x reader #miles morales x y/n #cute #drama

[mysumeow]

WANDERER ALPHABET PT. 1/2🥛. . ♡ 💭

warnings: afab genitalia, gn pronouns. overstimulation, edging, scara kinda yandere coded ig, unprotected piv, mentions of oral

a/n: it's finally here T_T remember this all is just my take on wanderer ;7; i hope everyone enjoys it n_n

PART TWO

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He's going to make either a teasing remark on how he didn't even go that hard (he def did) or how you're weaker than he thought as he helps you walk to the bathroom.

He'll huff, roll his eyes, and complain all he wants, but he won't leave you alone until he's sure you're taken care of. He'll hold you the whole night in his arms.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I don't know why, but I'm convinced he must have pretty hands. Long, slender fingers, and soft skin. What's his secret? He doesn't even have any type of skin care routine. He probably also likes how his back looks; he has a very elegant silhouette.

On his partner, not only their chest but also their thighs. He doesn't care about the size of either. He likes those places for the fact that they're usually sensitive, and he enjoys nothing more than teasing and edging his partner.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He's not human but was designed to look like one. I'd assume he cums about the same as an average human—slightly more if he has gone a good while without pleasuring himself. Thankfully (or not, it depends on you), he has a low refractory period, meaning that he can go a while before he's shooting blanks.

Has a balanced diet, so the taste is far from unpleasant. I feel like the first couple of times he gets intimate with his partner, he won't be able to hide his emotional attachment to them. He likes the idea of "claiming" you by cumming deep inside. If you are against it and prefer to pleasure him with your mouth, he likes it when you show him you swallowed all.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He gets way too excited when he sees you cry during sex. From pleasure; and if you allow it, from pain. This goes hand in hand with overstimulation, since that's his go-to if he wants to make you cry easily. He can be a rough lover if you let him be, but he can also be gentle "if you deserve it" (those are his words). This is a dirty secret you'll have to uncover on your own by being observant: how his eyes gleam when your moans turn into whines and pleas, how he fixes his gaze into your face when he's overstimulating you, how he'll just "mhm" and "yeah" to anything you say, but he's not really paying attention; or when he mocks your moans and pleas.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Before his Wanderer arc, he excluded himself from any positive interpersonal experiences. He would get a disgusting, stomach churning feeling seeping into his being at the thought of being vulnerable to someone else. Before his three betrayals, he was already busy figuring out how to blend in with humans and dealing with all sorts of unfamiliar emotions.

In other words, no experience. Even after his Wanderer arc, I feel like he would need to re-learn how healthy interpersonal relationships work. His partner would need to be understanding and patient.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position that will allow him to hold your tits. If it's doggy, his hands will be squeezing them the whole time. If you're on top, his eyes are fixed there too. He might have a preference for cowgirl, since it gives him a pleasing sensation of being wanted, seeing you care about his pleasure to the point where you're exerting your own body. He appreciates the effort, but that doesn't mean he's not going to edge you anyway.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He places lots of sentimental value on sex. It just so happens that his way of showing affection might come across as possessive, ardent, rough. If you're the type to joke during it, he might humor you, but it depends on his mood.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Doesn't shave, barely has any hair down there, after all. You could guess that from glancing at his legs, the hairs are tiny and thin. They're a darker shade of indigo, bordering on black.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

The type to prefer having everything under control. It's going to take a lot of trust for him to allow his partner to take the dominant position, but even when he gives in, he's a brat. Scratch that—topping, bottoming, domming, or subbing—he's gonna be difficult. It's like he finds genuine pleasure in your frustration. If you're patient, good. If not, that means you will become even more desperate, which is good for him too.

He can be romantic, too. You'll know he's sentimental when he's uncharacteristically quieter. It's not that he shuts up at all if he can comment on something to fluster you, but it will happen less.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He would suppress himself, he's ashamed at the idea of performing such mundane actions. His time is way too valuable to spend it on such trivial activities—until it becomes too much.

As long as no one knows and he caves in.

It was fast, and he feels silly for worrying about it. He's relieved that, at last, that tension has left his body. He's convinced he won't fall for it again.

And it happened again.

At some point, he warms up to the idea of caring for his body in that way. Masturbation is linked to healthy body activity, right? Whatever, I'm only doing it because of that. No other reason. (There's another reason).

Still, he tries to not overdo it. By the time he finally gets to hold you in an intimate way, it's like opening Pandora's box. Who knew carnal pleasure could be so addicting.

#genshin smut #scaramouche smut #wanderer smut #genshin x reader #wanderer x reader #/ᐠ - ˕ -マ smut

[rachey899]

What The Actual...

When did Matt find out about Luke’s size shifting abilities?

Another short story featuring Luke and Matt approximately 2.4k words.

Luke was sweating buckets by the time he’d gotten to school, the walk from his house seemed to blur as his mind recited everything on his revision notes for the upcoming test today. This test was worth 80% of his math grade and would determine whether he failed the class or not.

He had done so poorly in all his other subjects that if he failed math as well, he would need to repeat the year.

His mind raced as he tried to think up the formula for Pythagoras theorem, he’d literally just looked it over again that morning and now he was drawing a blank, what if he continued to draw blanks for the rest of the day, what if by the time he was looking at his test book he couldn’t remember anything.

“Whoa watch it!”

Luke stumbled as he bumped into someone and continued to then trip over his own long legs and fall, sprawling on the hard concrete ground.

The person he had barged into had long since gone and Luke sat there stunned like a deer in the headlights, in fact he almost wanted to cry, he just wanted today to be over already.

Standing up, he brushed himself off and shouldered his backpack, he had grazed his elbow on the way down and it stung but it would heal. He seemed to heal faster than the average person and he supposed he could thank his unusual gift for that neat trick.

“Luke, hey dude you’ll never guess what Linda said to me this morning!” Matt bounced beside his friend and continued to babble excitedly.

“I got on the bus and her seat was the only one available so naturally I asked if I could sit there, you know all casual like, and she said yes! Can you believe it! She actually spoke to me, Luke are you listening? You don’t look so good.” He eyed his friend who was obviously tense, he looked much paler than usual, and he could see the perspiration on his forehead.

“Are you sick or something?” 

Luke felt sick, he felt like he was going to throw up, and his nervousness only grew as he felt his skin tighten like he was about to shift, he could not let that happen today, he had enough to worry about without worrying about turning into a giant freak of nature.

“Yeah, sorry, I guess I’m just nervous about the test, sorry dude.” Luke excused himself to duck into the bathroom, he literally had to duck his head so he wouldn’t hit the frame of the door, he hoped his friend didn’t notice that he’d just shot up a few inches.

He whirled into a stall and put the lid down on the toilet, sitting there with his head in his hands trying to take steady even breathes, if he could calm himself down, he could resist the shift.

“That was close.” He sighed letting out a long breath as he watched the toilet cubicle shrink back to its regular size. The test was during the first two periods of the day, if he could just get through that and then go home with the excuse that he was sick, then he could grow and get it out of his system and feel much better.

He rejoined Matt in the hallway where he was waiting for him, Matt looked at him with concern. He wondered if there was something else going on for his friend beside the test but chose to believe him, he had no reason not to.

They parted ways at home room and Luke made sure to sit right at the back to avoid anyone who might want to sit and chat with him, he didn’t have the energy to focus on anything else today besides this stupid test and remaining an average human height for a few hours.

The bell rang to signal first period and he shot out of his seat, darting out the door and straight to the hall where the math test was being held, he entered through the large double doors and scanned the room.

Thinking strategically, he should sit at the back closest to the door just in case he had to make a quick exit, however fate had other plans and he spotted Matt waving at him from the middle of the room, signally to sit next to him instead. He wondered with annoyance how on earth he had managed to get to the Hall before him.

“I’ll be so glad when this is over.” Luke sighed slumping into his seat beside his friend.

“You and me both bro.” Matt chuckled good naturedly nudging his friend in the arm.

“Students take your seats, this test will commence in two minutes sharp, you will have ninety minutes to complete your test, use this time wisely.”

With that, everyone in the room watched in silence as the timer began and then simultaneously flipped their test booklets over and began scribbling furiously.

Luke was feeling confident about halfway through, all his answers he was sure were correct so far, that was until he looked up at the timer and saw he only had thirty minutes left and still half the booklet to go. He felt his muscles tighten and his skin felt like it was swelling, he closed his eyes and took a breath, he just had to keep going, focus on the work and take deep breaths. His seat felt smaller.

He only had two questions left when the alarm on the timer sounded, jolting in his seat, he flipped his booklet over and bolted for the door, the pressure in his body was becoming too much and he had to get out of there. Running full tilt toward the forested area that backed onto the school oval, he knew of a clearing there he had used to grow before, he just hoped he could make it there in time before he exploded.

His legs felt longer, his strides stretching further as he ran, the grass looked smaller, he knew he wasn’t big enough to be noticeable, but it was coming, and it was coming fast.

Once in the cover of the trees he let his body go, that tight feeling felt looser as he let himself grow, his forehead brushing against the tops of the trees, he took a few more steps mindful of the smaller foliage, he didn’t want to leave an obvious trail. He reached the clearing and stretched his aching body, letting out a groan from the relief, the anxiety gone and the pressure previously raging through his muscles was gone.

“What the actual-.”

Luke whipped his head around scanning the forest floor until his large blue eyes landed on the small form of his childhood best friend staring up at him with wide eyes, he held Luke’s backpack in one hand with his own slung over the opposite shoulder. Matt had watched his friend’s odd behavior and worried about him, so he’d picked up his bag and followed him into the forest to check on him.

“Matt.” He wasn’t sure what else to say, how to explain himself, he took a step toward his friend who stood comparatively around six inches in height to him, and he immediately regretted it. He watched with the sick feeling of guilt in his stomach as Matt took multiple steps backward, tripping over the branches of the forest floor and falling back on his rear.

Luke knelt down instead, planting his knees into the ground, and flinching as he saw the rumbling effect it had on his friend causing Matt to shake either from the large movement or from fear, neither of them were sure, probably both.

Matt shook his head as if coming out of a trance and before he could think it through, he dropped both bags jumping up onto his feet and made to bolt in the opposite direction.

“Wait!” Luke shouted, throwing caution to the wind, he reached out his large hands that moved much faster than anything that big had a right to and scooped up his friend closing him in between his two hands as though he’d just caught an interesting bug.

Luke’s eyes widened as he felt Matt kick and punch at his large digits, he could hear him shouting from within his hands, but it was muffled. He felt horrible holding his best friend against his will like this, but he needed to explain what was going on, he owed it to him at least.

Once he’d explained he would let him go and he would understand if Matt never wanted to see him again, who’d want to be friends with a freak like him anyway.

With a deep breath he slowly opened his hands letting the light shine within the enclosed space until his eyes settled on Matt sprawled on his back and staring up at him fearfully, he had his arms over his head in defense and his chest rose and fell as he took quick short, panicked breaths.

“Matt, I-it’s me.” Luke’s words caught in his throat, he blinked back the tears that were threatening, he hated that he was the cause of Matt’s fear.

“Luke?” Matt’s small voice reached his ears and he let out a breath of relief ruffling his friend’s shaggy blonde hair in the process. He watched avidly as Matt’s breathing began to slow and recognition was beginning to show on his features.

“Yeah Matt, it’s just me, I swear I won’t hurt you; I can explain all of his.” His words rushed over Matt’s body, and he shuddered at the bizarre feeling of such large breathes washing over him, but he recognized those blue eyes, the freckles that were scattered across his cheeks and nose, his curly brown hair bounced and hung around his eyes, this was Luke, just magnified.

Matt pushed himself up to sit cross legged in his friends’ hands and craned his neck to look up at his gigantic best friend.

“C-can you p-put me down Luke?” Matt internally beat himself for stuttering over his words, he tried to push the fear away knowing Luke would never truly hurt him, but it was hard to do when your life was literally being held in someone’s hands.

“Promise you won’t run?” Luke appeared hesitant to put his friend down even though he wanted nothing more than for his friend to feel comfortable and safe, he just needed to explain.

“I promise.”

Luke lowered his hands to the forest floor and flattened them out so Matt could step off onto steady ground once again, Matt really wanted to kiss the floor once he’d stepped off but refrained from the dramatic display of relief for the sake of his friend’s feelings.

“So, what happened to you dude? Fall into a radioactive pit or something? Is this permanent?”

“I’m a size shifter, as far as I know I was born with this ability, but I can’t always control it very well, particularly when I’m stressed like today, I’m so sorry.” Luke settled himself into a sitting position and crossed his legs, keeping a few feet between himself and Matt.

“How does this even happen? So, what, your parents obviously know right? Does anyone else know?”

“Yeah, my parents know, but no one else, I swear I wanted to tell you, but my parents said it was best to keep it secret, for my safety you know?”

Matt shook his head in disbelief and looked up and up at his best friend’s face, he looked so concerned, he knew Luke had always been the quieter and more self-conscious of the two, but he found it hard to believe that someone who stood ten times taller than anyone else could look so much like a hurt puppy.

“Okay so if you can shift sizes, why don’t you, you know, shrink back down now?”

He watched with curiosity as Luke closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before letting out a frustrated groan.

“I can’t yet.” He looked so apologetic, like all he wanted to do was be his regular size and hug his best friend but couldn’t.

“The burst I had was a pretty big one, sometimes it takes a little while before I can shift again, I’m sorry, I know I must seem really scary to you.” He looked down at his hands that were resting in his lap like he was a monster.

“That’s okay, no harm done.” Matt slowly walked towards his large friend and held a hand out, hesitating only briefly before resting it on Luke’s jean clad thigh and patted it comfortingly. Luke’s lips twitched into a smile watching his friend trying to be comforting despite him being obviously still uneasy around the giant. He appreciated it all the same.

“So uh, is this the real reason you live in that granny flat instead of in your folks house?”

Luke chuckled softly and nodded.

“Yeah, when I was younger, I would have bad dreams and shift in my sleep, it was safer to have me out of the house, that hasn’t happened in a long time though.”

“I still can’t believe you kept this a secret from me for so long, we’ve known each other since first grade!” Matt stood back again, not out of fear but so that he could see all of his friend while he was talking to him.

“I really wanted to tell you dude, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine I get it, just pissed because all this time we could have been using this power to you know fight crime and stuff! We could have scared bullies away or something.” Matt threw up his hands in dramatic exasperation but smiled anyway. Luke rolled his eyes.

“So? You’re cool with this? Really? And you won’t tell anyone?” Luke leaned forward looking earnestly at Matt.

“Yeah gigantor, your secret is safe with me.” Luke chuckled at the nickname and smiled.

The two hung out in the clearing for a few hours, chatting as if nothing had changed between them, just two friends hanging out and passing time.

#gt #giant #gianttiny #gtfluff #tiny #g/t #giant/tiny #size shifter #LukeandMatt #light angst #Smallamountoffear

[moonchildreads]

small town

Chapter 19 - We Built This City

IN THIS CHAPTER: Finals week, a friendly invitation, and the Hellfire Class of 86' takes a bow [7.6k]

WARNINGS: vague foreshadowing, mentions of fantasy violence? they play dnd, it's not real (again, taking the liberty of making them play 5e because i wasn't about to learn advanced dnd for this when i already play 5e)

A/N: whew! didn't think i'd ever get to finish this one lol. huge HUGE shout out to @gutterratt, who not only is a wonderful friend i was hugging and sharing the same air with just a few days ago, but also my dm (the best dm in the world, don't @ me). this chapter would have been impossible without your guidance, knowledge, and support. thank you for teaching me to dm through eddie. also shout out to brian murphy and NADDPOD for the inspiration for this chapter! check them out on spotify if you like dnd podcasts, they deserve all the love they get. onto the update!

masterlist - prev - next | playlist

We just want to dance here Someone stole the stage They call us irresponsible Write us off the page

Wednesday, May 28th - 1986

Finals week in Hawkins High was going pretty well or terribly wrong depending on who you asked. On Monday, freshman Cindy Jackson had come out of her Geography classroom sobbing, claiming that she had flunked the entire test and her GPA was going to fall drastically below average. Dustin and Mike had simply stepped around her in the hallway and headed to the parking lot to get their bikes without sparing a single thought for her. Eddie couldn’t believe how calm he felt whenever he sat down at his desk and a new test was placed in front of him. By the time Wednesday lunch period was upon them, he had already taken four of his six final exams, Dottie had taken five of her nine, and band practice had been suspended so everyone could study for tomorrow’s new round of tests, or in Eddie’s case, put the finishing touches to their upcoming D&D Friday session.

So far, their plan to stick to each other and not walk around the school alone like sitting ducks for the bullies had been working. Dottie only shared one class with Andy Humphrey, and it seemed that her threat to rat him out to their teacher had worked because no one in the basketball team had bothered them since then. At least, not any more than the usual jeers and disgusted glances they so often directed to her friends in Hellfire. Eddie had been keeping a low profile for the past couple of months, his entire thought process having been claimed by his ever growing crush on a certain short curly-haired girl; his frequent tirades in the cafeteria had been reduced to only one loud proclamation in the hallways every couple of weeks, and to be completely honest, no one cared about him or his unconventional opinions so close to the end of the school year, so him suddenly turning into a wallflower hadn’t really been noteworthy to his peers. Everyone just simply assumed that he was stressed about failing senior year for the third time in a row and left him alone to his devices.

When the group compared schedules on Monday and saw that Dottie was going to be headed to the same lecture as Andy three times that week, it was quickly decided that Donny would be her guardian since his Italian lessons were at the same time she’d be taking AP Spanish in the classroom opposite of his. Dustin and Mike were to be inseparable, and when they had different schedules, Mike was supposed to shadow Nancy as much as he could while Dustin stuck to Jeff on their way to the east wing for their respective classes. Eddie watched over Dottie like a hawk during their shared free periods, going so far as to stand outside the girls’ bathroom while she went about her private business in case any idiot got strange ideas about cornering her in a place where she was supposed to be safe. Ms. Kelly had looked very surprised to see all six boys waiting for Dottie to come out of their latest check-in session; it was strange to see how subdued they had all gotten in recent months and she knew it had everything to do with the sunshine girl that happily linked arms with the freshmen, Dustin excitedly skipping alongside her down the hallway while Mike dragged his feet next to them in protest.

It was, perhaps, that false sense of security that had her approaching the basketball team’s table after students had begun trickling out of the cafeteria, surely headed to their last classes of the day. Donny was supposed to safeguard her on their way to her second AP Spanish class of the week, but he had asked her to please wait for him near the teachers while he excused himself to the bathroom and promptly left her alone. When Dottie realized Andy wasn’t seated at the jock-filled table but one Lucas Sinclair was, she quickly forgot about her friends’ insistent requests to “lay low” until the school year was over and headed towards him without a second thought entering her mind. She stopped right in front of the freshman who eyed her curiously, brows raised in an unspoken question.

“Hi! You’re Lucas, right?” Dottie said, smiling brightly.

“Uh, yeah, I’m Lucas.”

“Nice to meet you! Would you mind giving these to Erica for me, please?” she extended her closed fist towards him and he instinctively held his palm open for her. Two pieces of shiny plastic hit his skin softly; he recognized them as part of his old dice set, the one he assumed had been gathering dust tucked away in his bedroom. “I must have accidentally taken them with me a couple of weeks ago - I would give them to her myself but I won’t see her until Friday and it’d suck if she bought a new set because she thought she lost these.”

“Yeah, that would really suck,” he chuckled uncomfortably, shifting in his seat knowing his new friends were watching the uncommon interaction unfold. “I’ll give them to her for you, don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you so much! Here, for your troubles,” she gave him a pack of Smarties as payment in kind. “See you around!”

“Thanks,” he managed to mutter before she bolted out of the room and into the hallway in search of Donny.

Lucas stared at the candy bag in his hand next to one d20 and one d4 that had belonged to him a couple of months before. They were black with gold numbers that he’d repainted himself with one of Will’s thinnest brushes, trying his hardest to cover the tacky white underneath. He hadn’t opened his D&D box in a while, the hard plastic container hidden away underneath his bed and pushed all the way back until it touched the wall. He’d yell at Erica for touching and stealing his things, but that would have meant admitting that he still cared about the part of him he’d been trying so hard to deny lately and he couldn’t allow himself to fail like that. Lucas was tired of being the bigger man; let his former friends apologize to him for once. Though, as days went on, he was starting to realize that maybe they would never come back at all.

“How do you know that chick?” asked Chance, one of his seniors.

“I don’t,” Lucas replied quickly. “I don’t have classes with her.”

“She’s a senior,” Patrick said. “I’m with her in English. She always sits with that Munson freak.”

“What does she want with you? Who’s Erica?”

“Erica, she’s my little sister. She wanted to return some dice to her, I think they are in a club together, I don’t know,” Lucas said, but he did know. He’d noticed Dottie sitting at lunch with his club members, he’d seen her wearing the same Hellfire shirt he owned, he’d heard Erica talk about her to their Mom. Lucas Sinclair knew exactly who Dorothy Burke was.

“Isn’t your sister like… eight?” Chance laughed.

“Eleven,” the freshman corrected him, but that seemed to peak Jason Carver, the basketball team’s captain’s attention.

“Your little sister is hanging out with those… freaks?” Jason asked, eyebrows bunching together.

“They play board games together, it’s so dumb-”

“She shouldn’t be around them, she’s just a kid. Who knows what they could do to her if… They aren’t good people, they- they could hurt her,” the captain said, tone stern.

“She’ll be fine, they’re just a bunch of nerds-”

“Lucas,” Jason insisted. “You’re a good friend and a good teammate to us. I’m sure you’re a good son to your parents too, but you have to be good to her as well. That’s your duty as her older brother.”

“Yeah, I-” he quickly put away the dice and Smarties in his pocket and nodded. “You’re right, I’ll talk to her about it.”

“You make sure you do that, okay? Take care of her,” the senior said, patting his shoulder in a friendly way and getting up. “Come on, guys, let’s go to class.”

Lucas walked behind his teammates until he reached his classroom and unassumingly disappeared from the group. He took his seat at the back and noticed Mike and Dustin sitting at the front, bickering with one another as usual. Bitterly, he recalled switching seats with the girl who now sat next to Dustin after Spring Break. Jason wasn’t being mean with his warning, he knew that. His captain had siblings too, he knew what being a big brother meant and he extended that same level of protectiveness towards his friends and younger members of the team. Lucas felt grateful that Jason, the current King of Hawkins High, was so willing to look out for not only him, but Erica too, if only because she was related to him. But when Mike snorted loudly at something Dustin had said, he couldn’t help but think that there weren’t people on Earth he would trust more to take care of Erica when he couldn’t watch her than Mike Wheeler and Dustin Henderson. And perhaps Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley too, but they didn’t have to know that, lest their egos got even bigger than they already were.

Friday, May 30th - 1986

The last day of finals week came towards them at neck breaking speed, causing Eddie and Dottie to stick to each other like velcro during the final three hours of the day. During third period, he’d had his Latin exam and she sat with him during every available second prior to it quizzing him on his vocab. After that, they both had had their Calc final, where they sat side by side suffering through it all together. He’d finished before her and quickly returned to his seat, noticing how her nerves seemed to be heightened every time someone got up and was granted permission to head to the cafeteria early. He slipped one of his rings off and slid it across the table until it bumped with her eraser; she smiled, thankful, and put it on her index finger to twirl with her left thumb while she concentrated on the numbers in front of her. After that came lunch and everyone was positively buzzing. Most of the student body had already finished all their exams and there was a sense of freedom in the air, a shared joy that couldn’t enter Dottie’s brain yet as she frantically reviewed her AP Spanish notes for her ninth final exam of the week. One look at her tired, wet eyes after someone had shouted a little bit too loud, and Eddie pulled her out of the room and into the back of his van where she could finally breathe and concentrate on reading her own writing before the bell rang.

After exams were finally over, Eddie headed to the woods to wait for Chrissy who had asked him if she could buy a rather unusual amount of weed considering her casual habits, and Dottie seeked refuge in The Weekly Streak’s newsroom until it was time for Hellfire to begin. She was helping Fred put together a mockup for a story he wanted to present to Nancy the next week when the editor-in-chief herself asked her if she wanted to go to the bathroom. Dottie, being well-versed in girl language, accepted without complaint and followed the blue-eyed girl into the nearest bathroom where she immediately began washing her hands in an attempt to hide the fact that she was so very much nervous about whatever she was about to say.

“Nance? Is everything okay?” Dottie asked, eyeing her carefully.

“Yeah- yes, everything’s okay. I just… I wanted you to know since you were the one that said I should just go for it so… I called Jonathan.”

“Oh,” she said, surprised that she was getting an update on the topic at all.

“We talked and he says he understands that I’m upset. We didn’t break up but we’re going to take a break, officially this time,” Nancy shut off the water tap and stepped to the side to wipe her hands dry with coarse paper towels.

“Well, how do you feel about that?”

“Good, I think. He says he has a job now, and he’ll go full-time for the summer after graduation so he might be able to save up some money to come see me,” she smiled, hope swimming behind her eyes.

“That’s great, Nancy!” Dottie said, giving a big hug to her friend. Nancy went stiff at first but after a second, she breathed out and hugged her back. “I’m so proud of you, I know that was probably a really hard conversation for you both.”

“It was but… I feel better now. I want to trust him again, and we agree that maybe this will help us get there.”

“So you’re still off the market then? Asking for a friend that’s totally not Fred,” Dottie joked, and Nancy let out a girly giggle that surprised the both of them.

“Off the market, and out of his league,” the editor-in-chief said, playfully stern.

“Oh my god, Nance!” she let out a loud snort that sent Nancy into a fit.

It felt good to laugh like this, to shoulder a silly burden together, to foster a new friendship and be vulnerable with one another. Growing up hadn’t been easy for either girl in wildly different ways, but the summer of ‘86 was right ahead of them and promised greener pastures if one could get the courage to take the first step outside. Nancy hadn’t let herself have a friend for so long. It had been easy with Jonathan - shared trauma bonds you like nothing else in the world after all - but it was undeniable that a part of her had died that day when Barb went missing. Even though Dottie wasn’t Barb, Nancy could feel like Nancy again right that moment, in that bathroom, hiding from their nosy journalist-aspiring colleagues and the junior that kept following her around like a lovesick puppy. She felt herself breathe a little bit easier almost a full year after the nightmare that still woke her up in the middle of night, prompting her to double check the guns she had stashed in the topmost part of her closet so her little sister Holly could never find them by accident.

The door to the bathroom opened and a group of cheerleaders came in, fussing over their makeup and hair before practice began. They were chatting excitedly about an upcoming party, and Nancy and Dottie moved aside to let them get access to the mirrors. They were about to leave when another girl pushed the door open in a frenzy; a slightly out of breath Chrissy Cunningham ran inside in haste.

“Where were you?!” shouted Melissa, rounding on her as soon as the door had slammed itself shut.

“I got held up by a teacher, calm down,” Chrissy lied seamlessly, but her glossy eyes were a dead giveaway to anyone that had spent any significant amount of time with the elder Hellfire members. “What are we talking about?”

“Your boyfriend’s party. What are you gonna wear?” Kathleen asked, putting away her lip gloss.

“Are we allowed to go?” Libby asked, eyes hopeful. Standing next to her was another junior tumbler, Valerie, who was downright pouting at their captain.

“Of course you are!” Chrissy said, taking full advantage of the fact that Jason would never complain about her inviting her younger cheerleader friends if she pouted at him a little. “Everyone is invited. Are you two coming too?”

It took a few milliseconds for Dottie to register that Chrissy was talking to Nancy and her, and she only realized because Nancy quickly put on a friendly smile and shook her head, a quick excuse on her lips.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry. I already told my Mom I would babysit my sister. It’s their date night and I’d hate it if they had to cancel,” she said, and Dottie knew she was lying because her eyebrows bunched upwards in the very familiar way they bunched whenever she lied to other people in the school’s newspaper about how great their ideas were.

“Aw, they still go on dates, that’s so cute,” Valerie said, ever the romantic.

“What about you, Dot? Are you coming?” Chrissy asked, ignoring the way her friends looked at her like she was inviting a rabid dog inside for dinner.

“Uh, I- I wasn’t aware there was gonna be a party.”

“It’s tomorrow night at my boyfriend’s house but I’m organizing it so it’s honestly my party,” she giggled, and Dottie swore she’d heard Gareth make that same sound whenever he was high. “We’re saying goodbye to senior year! I just told Eddie you were all invited, you should totally come.”

“You did what?” Melissa asked and Kathleen scoffed.

“It’s our last senior year party. All seniors can come,” Chrissy said in a tone that left no questions to be asked before she turned back to Dottie. “It’s gonna be really fun, we can probably convince Jason to let us play Queen at some point! Please think about it at least? For me?”

“Okay, I’ll- I’ll think about it. For you,” Dottie smiled, and Chrissy grinned.

“We should go now,” Nancy said, interrupting the awkward tension. “Lots of newspaper club things to do.”

“Oh, sure! We’ll see you around!”

Nancy guided Dottie out with a hand on her elbow; Chrissy and Valerie were the only ones that waved them goodbye. Just before the door closed, Melissa snarled “You invited the freaks? What’s wrong with you?” but they never heard what Chrissy replied. They made their way back to the newspaper club’s room in silence, each of them deep in their own thoughts. Nancy realized that she hadn’t been to a party since she’d broken up with Steve, her ex before she’d started dating Jonathan. Had it really been that long? It seemed like it had been ages since the last time Nancy tried to act like she was a normal teenager, like she didn’t need to keep a light on while she slept, scared of the shadows in the corner of her own bedroom. Like she didn’t have sleeping pills issued by a military doctor that she refused to take hidden inside a pair of old sneakers. Nancy would never be the same Nancy she was before November 8th, 1983, but she had to try.

“We should go,” she said, Dottie’s head snapping up from the papers in front of her. “To Chrissy’s party.”

“You wanna go?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“O-okay! I can ask my Dad to take us if you want,” Dottie offered.

“I drive, I can pick you up if you want.”

“Sure, if that’s better for you. Thank you!” the brown eyed girl smiled. “I actually haven’t been to any parties since senior year began.”

“We better make this one count then,” Nancy said, and went back to work with a timid but happy expression on her face.

Dottie tried really hard not to grin, but the thought of not only being invited to her first high school party in Hawkins, but also going with her newest friend and possibly her Hellfire gang made her impossibly giddy. Senior year had certainly sucked royal ass when it began, but it was definitely ending with a bang, not a whimper.

As Eddie ticked final after final on his list, he had allowed himself to think that he would be DMing his last session as the leader of the Hellfire Club that Friday. He had carefully crafted an emotional ending to the adventure they were currently on, and hoped his players would be on board to having a less action packed meeting than usual. They were, after all, not only saying goodbye to him as a leader, but also Jeff, Gareth, Donny, and Dottie. When classes started again in September, Mike and Dustin would be sophomores and the club would be in their hands, new sheep ready to be recruited walking down the hallways of Hawkins High.

The session had started, as usual, with a recap of the previous session's shenanigans. After finding out that their dead mutual friend Orfuel wasn’t, in fact, dead but instead trapped within Shadowfell, the party quickly realized what their next move was: to embark on a journey towards the Forest of Moonstone where Jeff’s character Tharivol had grown up and lived in, all in search for guidance and help of his elders. Orfuel’s partner in crime and girlfriend, Dedlock, had sacrificed him to Mask, the Lord of the Shadows, and was being kept in his divine realm inside Shadowfell - a castle known as the Shadow Keep. Dedlock wanted to rise above the ranks in the church of Mask, and this worthy act of manipulation was going to give her entry into the Circle of the Gray Ribbon, which is where his most loyal priests belonged.

The table was buzzing in excitement as they traveled through Eddie’s carefully crafted world in what would be their last time exploring it. They took their time on their way over to Moonstone, Eddie forcing them into lengthy conversations around a campfire, sharing stories about Orfuel and how they’d become such good friends with him that they were all willing to cross planes of existence to get him back in their lives. They attuned weapons and readied spells, and got a long rest in before the final challenge of the campaign finally arrived. Upon arrival to the Forest of Moonstone, they immediately seeked an audience with the druid that had taught Tharivol everything he knew. The slender elf advised them against their plan; they simply weren’t powerful enough to face the dangers of Shadowfell at this point in time. Instead, he proposed a different alternative.

The next steps were quite easy. They would wait until the new moon, which was, coincidentally, that same night. They’d hold a ritual to open a portal between the planes and bring back Orfuel from the terrible place he had been banished to. The eldest, most powerful cleric from the Circle, a halfling cleric named Portia, would guide them through the ritual, and they’d all have to contribute, each in their own time whenever Eddie prompted them to act. Between conversations and preparations, it was getting late, and so Eddie proposed a little bathroom break before the ritual began, which the boys accepted gratefully, cans of soda littering the table. Dottie inched her chair towards him, voice low like she was about to tell him a secret.

“So,” she began.

“So,” he said, curiosity piqued.

“I talked to Chrissy today and she invited me to a party.”

“Did she now?”

“Nancy and I are going.”

“Oh?” Eddie’s eyebrows rose. “Didn’t know you were interested in that.”

“I’m not but Nancy asked me to and I dunno, it could be fun. Our last senior year party,” Dottie said in a dramatic tone. “You’re going too, right? Chrissy said she invited you and the guys.”

“She did, but I-” he scratched his neck. “I’m gonna be honest with you, darling, I don’t really like those parties very much. I go to them, I sell a few ounces, and then we go to Jeff’s for a movie night.”

“But Chrissy wants us there, she said that all seniors should go. Please, Ed?” she pleaded, eyes rounded with weaponized innocence. “I like hanging out with Nancy but I’d feel so much better about going if I knew you were gonna be there too.”

Eddie sighed. I am so whipped for her and she knows it, he thought before turning to their other friends who were refilling the snack bowls while the freshmen got more sodas.

“Gentlemen!” he called, making Gareth, Jeff, and Donny look at him. “Princess here has a request.”

“What’s up?” Donny asked, sliding into his seat next to hers.

“Nancy and I are going to Chrissy’s party tomorrow night. I want you guys to go with us too,” she said, and the boys instantly laughed.

“Dot, we can’t go to Jason Carver’s house,” Gareth said between chuckles. “He hates us.”

“And also, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but no one invites the freaks to parties,” Jeff added.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. The party is at Carver’s house, yes, but-” Eddie put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a piece of scrap paper with girly writing on it. “-Chrissy Cunningham is planning it. We got an invite this time, fellow weirdos.”

“Chrissy invited you to her party?” Gareth asked in disbelief.

“I believe she invited us all.”

“She did,” Dottie said. “She told me she told Eddie to tell you we were all invited.”

“Those are too many uses of the verb to tell in one sentence,” Donny said, poking fun at her. She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Okay, so, let me get this straight. Chrissy Cunningham, the Uncrowned Queen of Hawkins High, invited all of us to her party? And you’re actually going? With Nancy Wheeler of all people?” Gareth’s eyes were wide open.

“How much of a discount have you been giving her?” Jeff joked, implying something less illegal than simply selling her weed, but also dirtier was going on between them.

“Shut the fuck up,” Eddie threw a ball of paper at his head. “She’s a friend, and she invited Dottie too. In person, not through me.”

“Yeah, Nancy and I ran into her in the bathroom and she told us to come.”

“What is it with girls and bathrooms?” Gareth looked at Donny, the only other one at the table who had sisters. He shrugged in response.

“So? Are we all going? If it sucks we can leave, but I just thought it’d be fun to, y’know, do something different for once,” Dottie said with a hopeful smile.

“Okay, I’m in,” Donny announced.

“Dude!” Jeff and Gareth looked at him like he had betrayed them.

“Oh, come on! It’s now or never, we’re never gonna see these assholes again after graduation. And you know those rich kids always have so much beer at their parties. Are you really gonna say no to free booze?”

“Okay, when you put it like that…,” Gareth conceded. “I’ll go if we all go.”

“Ditto,” said Jeff.

“Guess we’re going to Jason Carver’s house tomorrow night, boys,” Eddie said, reluctantly.

“It’s gonna be awesome, you’ll see,” said Dottie, right as Dustin, Mike, and Erica rejoined the group and settled for the next part of the adventure.

“If everyone’s ready,” Dustin looked around the table at his friends after a lengthy discussion. “-we go to the clearing.”

“You come into the clearing right before midnight and you see everyone sitting on the grass, making a big circle around a huge oak tree. This is where Tharivol’s Circle prays to Silvanus, The Oak Father, the God of Wild Nature. You can feel energy underneath your feet, coming up your legs and into your chest as you approach everyone else. This place is sacred, and the people here are willing to help you rescue your innocent friend. Do not take their kindness for granted,” Eddie narrated, solemn voice ringing through the tension in the room. “Portia is standing next to the base of the tree in beautiful, shiny robes, her long silver hair blowing in the breeze. She beckons you to come closer.”

“We go to her,” Erica said, firmly.

“The old halfling lady instructs you to sit at her feet where the tree’s roots come out of the dirt. She looks at her Circle and begins her speech,” Eddie held his head high as he embodied Portia with a mystic drawl. “Children of Silvanus. We are gathered here tonight to help our very own Tharivol and his allies restore order and balance to where chaos and injustice has spread. Pray with us. Let Silvanus help them return a lost friend home,” in his normal voice, Eddie continued. “Portia turns around and with her staff, she draws a line into the earth where the portal will appear, if, and only if you succeed.”

“Hang on, Portia is opening a portal?” Jeff said, holding in a chuckle.

“Portia the Portal Lady,” Dustin muttered, and Mike next to him snorted loudly.

“You’re killing the fuckin’ mood,” Gareth complained, kicking Jeff who sat opposite him.

“Moving on, please,” Erica rolled her eyes and motioned at Eddie to continue. He bowed his head in acknowledgement and carried on with his narration.

“Portia starts praying loudly in a language you don’t quite understand. At first, you think she might be praying in Elven but you quickly realize she’s praying in Sylvan, the language of the fey,” Eddie said, tense silence falling over the room once again. “Tharivol,” he looked at Jeff. “You recognize a few words and it sounds like she’s requesting access to a kingdom, to a place called Shadowfell. She’s asking the Raven Queen for help in rectifying a wrong that has happened within her realm. I want you all to tell me what you do to help Portia during the ritual.”

“What’s everyone else doing?” asked Jeff.

“They are still sitting in a circle while they pray.”

“I’m gonna pray to Silvanus too then.”

“Go ahead. Let me hear what you say to him.”

“Oh, Silvanus, God of Wild Nature, Old Father Tree,” Jeff began, in character as Tharivol with his head bowed, eyes closed and hands clasped above the table. “Orfuel saved my life once. Let me return the favor. Let me repay the kindness he showed me by righting what is wrong in his name. Let him come home to us. Let him live long and prosper.”

“Damn,” said Gareth under his breath. It was showtime at the Hellfire Club, and everyone was taking it seriously.

“I’m gonna pray to Moradin for assistance,” Erica said as Boldhild. “I’m gonna invoke my Oath, and say: Fight the Greater Evil. No Mercy for the Wicked. By Any Means Necessary. Retribution. I honor these values today, and tomorrow. In your name, Moradin, the All-Father.”

“I’ll pray too,” Dottie joined them as Holly. “I’m going to lay down my quarterstaff, my symbol of Lathander touching the earth, and I’m gonna call out to him for help like they did.”

“You can do better than that, darling,” Eddie crossed his fingers and rested his chin on them. “Show me how you commune with your god.”

“O-okay,” she said, attributing her nerves to the expectation of performing an impromptu prayer in front of everyone and definitely not because of the sultry voice Eddie was talking to her with. She bowed her head and began praying. “Lathander, I come to you as a child of the light to ask you for aid in a time of need. My siblings in arms are asking Silvanus and Moradin to come together and help, but I fear their calls might go unanswered. Morninglord, I beg of you, take pity on us. Take pity on Orfuel, who has been banished to the plane of shadows. Take pity on those who cannot walk in your light like we do every new dawn, and please let us be joyous when the morning comes.”

There was the sense in the room that this wasn’t just a regular end of a campaign. They could feel it in the way Eddie had guided the session so far: minimal combat, heavy on the roleplay, distinctively interested in character growth. He was gearing up to something, and from the looks of it, it was going to be something big. With the understanding of a party that trusts their DM to bring a satisfying story to life, they gave themselves to him freely and wholeheartedly. This wasn’t just the end of an adventure. This was the end of Eddie’s reign as the leader of the Hellfire Club and he deserved a proper farewell.

“I-,” said Mike, gearing up to join his friends in the ritual as Mozikith. “I don’t think I can pray to Asmodeus for help, I mean… Doesn’t really feel right. So I’m gonna give Silvanus an offering instead.”

“What kind of offering do you wish to give him?” asked Eddie.

“Uh, a blood offering? My own blood.”

“No!” cried Jeff. “Offerings to Silvanus can’t be blood sacrifices. You have to destroy something made out of wood or wooden materials and bury it.”

“Okay, well, uh- Do I even own something made out of wood?” Mike wondered aloud as he looked down at his inventory notes.

“You have your staff,” Dustin suggested in a sheepish tone.

“Can… Can I break my staff and still keep my arcane stone?” he looked at his DM.

“I’ll allow it but you can’t cast spells simply holding the stone. You either get a new staff or do something with it, like put it inside a locket,” warned Eddie.

“It’s fine. I won’t need it anymore anyways,” Mike reasoned. “I’m gonna break my staff in two and bury it under where the portal is supposed to be created.”

“Me too,” said Gareth, making Despair join the sacrifice. “I’m gonna add my javelins to his pile.”

“How many?”

“All four of them.”

“Very well,” Eddie smiled. “Anyone else has something they’d like to add?”

“I want to offer something to the Raven Queen in exchange for her to let us through,” said Dustin as Seebo.

“Oh?”

“She collects trinkets, right?”

“That she does, Seebo. What do you have to offer to her?” Eddie leaned forward. “It has to be something interesting, remember, she doesn’t exactly care too much about cheap junk.”

“I want to offer her my father’s ring.”

A few sharp gasps could be heard as Dustin held Eddie’s eyes as if he was challenging him to say no. Everyone at the table knew what that ring meant to Dustin’s character. The heavy brass ring was all he had to remember his parents by after a war had left him and his ten younger siblings as orphans, begging on the streets for a small mercy until Orfuel taught him to run petty scams and pickpocket. At first he’d been reluctant but he had ten mouths to feed and couldn’t afford to pity those who had so much more than he did. Dustin placed a tacky ring he’d gotten at a yard sale in the middle of the table. Trust him to always keep props on his body for D&D related purposes.

“Okay, I’ll take it. Let’s see if she does too,” Eddie accepted his token.

“I’ll offer her a memory,” added Donny as Odorr. “I know she collects those too.”

“Which memory are you offering to the Raven Queen, dearest Odorr?”

“I want to give to her the night I burned down my village. That’s why I was a hermit until Orfuel found me,” he turned to the table to explain. “I was exiled as a kid because I couldn’t control my Wild Magic and set a barn on fire. It spread to the rest of the village so they said I was a danger and casted me out.”

“Shit,” Erica said, impressed that he’d kept his origin secret for so long. “Did you kill someone or what?”

“No, but I hurt a lot of people. It’s in the past now.”

“I’m sorry you went through that,” Dottie told him sincerely. Odorr had been her first friend on the campaign, and she cared for him like he was a real person. Donny squeezed her hand as a thank you.

“Okay, are we ready to proceed? Good. Since everyone has played their part in the ritual, I’ll explain how this is going to work,” Eddie brought them back to the game. “I’m gonna ask Tharivol to make an Arcana check, with advantage. To that you’re gonna add 1d6 of Inspiration for each member of your party, so that’s 6d6.”

“Can I roll Religion instead of Arcana? Since I’m praying to Silvanus,” Jeff bargained.

“Sure. Roll in front of everyone.”

Jeff grabbed 2d20 and breathed deeply, calming his nerves. He shook the dice in his hands, letting them fall to the tabletop, the two green and gold flecked pieces of plastic glinting in the moody lighting Eddie had set for the evening.

“18 and 19,” he announced.

“I’m guessing we’re starting with 19. Mozikith, if you will,” Eddie prompted Mike to start the inspiration dice rolls.

“Wait!” Dottie interrupted. “I want to cast Guidance on Tharivol.”

“Remind me again what that does, princess?”

“You touch one willing creature. Once before the spell ends, the target can roll a d4 and add the number rolled to one ability check of its choice. It can roll the die before or after making the ability check. The spell then ends,” she read with a smile. “You told me the other day that I always use the same two cantrips so I’m using a new one today.”

“I need to stop teaching you things if you’re gonna use them against me,” Eddie grumbled, but deep down was proud that she listened to his advice so intently. “Fine, Tharivol, add a d4.”

“Thank you,” Jeff said to Dottie and rolled. “2.”

“We’re at 21. Mozikith, please.”

“Shit,” Mike said. “That’s a 2.”

“We’re at 23. Seebo, your turn.”

“Fuck. Sorry guys, that’s gonna be a one,” Dustin mumbled angrily.

“Tough start. We’re at 24. Boldhild?”

“Four!” Erica cheered.

“We go up to 28! Despair, you go.”

“Please, please, please,” Gareth whispered. “SIX!”

“34! Odorr’s turn now.”

“Fuck yeah! That’s a six!” Donny punched the air excitedly. Everyone started becoming antsy but hopeful.

“We’re at 38. Holly, please.”

“Four?” Dottie said, timidly.

“That brings us to 42. Everyone in the clearing starts humming as Portia continues praying. Seebo, the ring in your hand begins burning until you can’t stand the heat anymore and drop it. It sinks into the earth beneath you as a gash appears where the line in the dirt was drawn,” Eddie began describing, his players waiting with bated breaths for confirmation of their success. “Tharivol, you feel a surge of magic from deep inside you, like a gentle warmth crawling up from your feet all the way up and into your chest. You see the oak tree begins glowing in the moonlight.”

“Holy shit,” Jeff said.

“The ground beneath you begins to shake and suddenly, Odorr, you feel a piercing pain in your head, like a needle pushing right in the middle of your forehead between your tiny horns. You fall to your knees in agony and see that the gash begins opening more, revealing fog on the other side.

“It’s working!” Dustin cried, and Mike shushed him immediately.

“Holly, you see your Lathander holy symbols begin to shine. First, it’s the one attached to your staff. Then, your armlet. It feels warm, like sunshine seeping into your skin on a cool day. The gash keeps opening and opening until it becomes a shadowy circle right in front of you. The pain in Odorr’s head stops,” Eddie said theatrically, making a pause for dramatic effect. “The DC you had to beat… was 40.”

“WE DID IT!” Erica screeched, and everyone began yelling at the same time.

“You almost gave me a heart attack, you piece of shit!” Donny yelled.

“Fuck, that was close,” moaned Dustin, bracing himself against the table, tension finally leaving his body.

“Congratulations, adventurers. You’ve just opened a portal to Shadowfell,” Eddie laughed, throwing his head back.

“Do we go in now? How does this work?” Dottie asked, wanting to continue the story.

“You have to speak the name of a creature and they’ll be sucked in through the portal towards your plane.”

“What was Orfuel’s last name?” Gareth looked at Jeff.

“Evensorrow,” said Mike.

“We call for Orfuel Evensorrow to come back to the material plane,” Jeff said, back in action.

“You see a shadow moving behind the fog, it seems like it’s fighting back the tendrils. Call out to him again, all of you,” Eddie instructed.

“Orfuel! Orfuel!” everyone began chanting. “Orfuel, it’s us! Stop fighting back!”

“The creature becomes prone when it hears your voices and lets itself be dragged into the material plane. A dirty human man lays at your feet, gasping for air after the shadowy vines retreat. Portia loses strength and the portal closes itself, severing the connection to Shadowfell.”

“I catch her before she falls,” Mike said quickly.

“Thank you, dearie,” Eddie said in a pitiful voice that belonged to an old frail lady. He continued in his normal voice. “Portia is okay, she just needs to rest.”

“We go to help Orfuel then,” Gareth looked at his friends, who nodded in agreement.

“Orfuel is a shell of the man you all used to know. His hair is long and matted, his beard is graying at the edges. He has dark circles under his eyes and looks like he hasn’t had a drink of water in days. He tries to speak, but his voice doesn’t come out.”

“I give him my water bottle,” Erica said.

“He drinks half of your waterskin in a rush and now that he feels better he looks at everyone surrounding him with fearful eyes,” Eddie began trembling, like it took a toll on his body to even utter a single syllable. “He’s coming. We have to- we have to hide. He’s coming.”

“Mask’s coming?” Donny asked.

“Mask’s just a pawn,” Eddie scoffed. “Orcus is coming.”

“Who’s Orcus?” Dottie looked around the table.

“The Lord of the Undead,” Dustin said, wary. “He’s the master of the undead that live in The Abyss. He wants to exterminate all life on every plane of existence until only his undead soldiers remain.”

“Wait, what do you mean Orcus is coming?” Erica asked Eddie, but really, it was Boldhild asking Orfuel.

“Mask knows Orcus hates the Raven Queen, so they made a deal. Mask kills the Raven Queen, and he becomes the keeper of Shadowfell for Orcus. Dedlock gave me up as a sacrifice to grow Mask’s power.”

“Shit. What do we do now?” Donny asked everyone else in the room.

“We fight back,” Dustin said, like it was obvious. “First we go for Dedlock and the Circle of the Gray Ribbon. Then we go for Mask.”

“And then…,” Mike mused. “We go into The Abyss.”

“And that’s where we’ll end our session,” Eddie said, and everyone groaned in protest.

“What the fuck, man?!”

“You said this session was the last one!”

“That’s such a non-ending, what is wrong with you?”

Eddie laughed and looked at his friends who kept begging him for more. More stories, more adventures, more guidance. They weren’t asking for entertainment. They were looking for more friendship. He moved to lower down his DM screen and hauled his prop box onto the table. Everyone stared at him curiously, wondering what trick he was gonna pull out of his metaphorical hat next. He simply reached in and grabbed two pins, putting them on the table: one said Chapter Leader, and the other said Dungeon Master. He’d had the first one for three years, and the second one for longer. He looked up at his club members with shiny eyes, and Dottie thought he’d never looked more at peace than in that moment.

“As you all know, my beloved sheep, I’m hoping I finally get to graduate this year. I don’t know if I am just yet, but in any case, this is my last session as Hellfire’s very own DM and leader. There’s more story to tell in this campaign, but I won’t be doing it here, on this throne, in this props room that always smells a little bit like glue,” he smiled when everyone huffed in agreement. “We’re going to take a break from this adventure until Dustin comes back from his nerd camp for geniuses-”

“Hey!” Dustin protested, but he looked proudly at Eddie while he did it.

“If you still want to find out what happens next after all that, I’ll be more than pleased to keep the action going outside of school grounds. But! A king shouldn’t rule over their kingdom forever, and it’s time for me to pass the crown onto the next generation. Wheeler, Henderson, please,” he motioned to the side. The freshmen followed him a few steps away from the table where Eddie dropped to one knee and bowed regally. “Michael Wheeler, you are Hellfire’s new Dungeon Master. I trust that the tales you tell will always be as grand as Mike the Magnificent was under my reign.”

“Woah,” Mike said when Eddie presented the Dungeon Master pin to him. “Eddie, this is- thanks, man.”

“Dustin Henderson,” Eddie continued, looking into the hopeful eyes of the kid he so very much admired. “The crown is too heavy for one man to wear alone, so I am choosing you to be the next Chapter Leader of the Hellfire Club. May you be as brave as Dustin the Daring was when he was under my wing.”

“I-” Dustin managed to get out before he launched himself across the floor and tackled Eddie into a tight hug.

“I won’t disappoint you, Eddie, I swear to god-”

But there was no need for him to promise anything, because Eddie knew that Hellfire was in safe hands with the two boys that had gone from looking at him like he was their Lord and Savior to simply calling him a friend. And as Eddie said goodbye to his time in high school, he was so grateful that even if he hadn’t learned a single thing valuable within those walls, he had come out of it with a group of people that he could always count on when life got too rough to handle on his own.

taglist (comment below or shoot me a dm if you want to be added!): @munsonology @kurdtbean

#bunny writes #small town fic #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x ofc #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things 4 #hellfire club #stranger things #gareth stranger things #jeff stranger things #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #erica sinclair #lucas sinclair #jason carver #nancy wheeler #chrissy cunningham #joseph quinn #baby's first fic

[licncourt]

I just went back and read your original Louis head canons, so I have to ask: do you have any new ones? They're all so good, I could listen to you talk about him for ages !

Nasty baby boy!! Thank you for asking, I need to gnaw on him like a chew toy rn because of my IWTV reread. It's giving me even more Louis brain worms than usual. Little guy....

He is not an animal person in general, but he has a very special and very strong affinity for birds. He has bird feeders at all the windows in his favorite spots, and an assortment of little bird friends (he's had lots of different kinds) in a big aviary who are very spoiled and very well trained. He's also a big fan of the birdtok scroll hole and fighting about birdkeeping on reddit until someone is crying

Louis knows his original family name from France, but never uses or speaks about it. If anyone were to ask, he'd say he doesn't care for it because he wants """his""" achievements to speak for themselves, but in reality it kind of bothers him that his ancestry is "common" and nouveau riche

Lestat's dumbest nickname for him is Minky (because Louis' hair reminds him of those fancy mahogany mink coats, all dark, shiny and fluffywavy). He perhaps maybe possibly finds all the stupid pet names a little bit sweet

Phone game junkie. If brass buttons were that interesting to him, imagine candy crush or the businessman enrichment he would get from animal crossing. Lestat has to limit his screen time so he doesn't rot his brain

He watches Protestant televangelists and bitches at the screen like a dad watching football. Just in general he likes to look at things that make him angry and then complain about it (big fan of Facebook and the news for the same reason)

Really into modern self-help and wellness culture. He konmaris his house every two months and is a top user of the headspace app. It's really annoying for everyone else but it does seem to be working

He uses his vampire prodigy skills to do a lot of sketching outside, especially when the weather is nice. He's always been a nature enjoyer but now he can capture it easily and keep it close. He likes to take pictures too. And show them to other people whether they care or not. The oak tree in his favorite park is like a grandchild to him

Because of his poor feeding habits very early on after being turned, his fangs are just slightly smaller and duller than the average vampire. It makes his kills messier/harder to keep tidy because there's a bit of sawing and ripping involved in the feeding process instead of a clean bite

Contrary to popular belief, he does enjoy physical affection from very close people, like his siblings when he was human and Lestat now. He needs more space than his stage five clinger husband (they would be surgically attached if Lestat had his way), but he likes having someone to lean against while he reads or a lap to sit in during a movie or cuddles after a long day. It just took an acclimation period and some trust building/bonding to get there

His hatred of granulated sugar was partly financially motivated (business competition) but also because he had a massive sweet tooth as a human but it didn't fit his image. Almond mom who sneaks twinkies in the bathroom

On a somewhat related note, his disordered eating wasn't a totally new thing as a vampire. His image of himself was always very reliant on his ability to be "godly" and In Control which led to a lot of extreme monk food habits and secret binging on fat, sugar, and alcohol. It's also why he spiraled so quickly into being an actual alcoholic so quickly after Paul's death

Against all odds, he is a fancy bath guy. Hot water was obviously not super easy to get and regulate for most of his life so it wasn't really a feasible option, but now he's extremely into the idea of being up to his neck in hot water that smells like lavender. He's kind of embarrassed about it though so he takes them when he's alone like it's some kind of petty crime. Lestat knows and leaves him little bath product gifts (and eventually gets to be in included in the baths sometimes)

#also i made his original family name beaujon as a nod to the royal banker #vc #louis de pointe du lac #hc tag #answered

[what-if-nct]

i wonder what kind of students would nct be?

Taeil: Literally Just average, like he does okay, quiet, sleeps in the back of the class right after he finishes his work. B and C's just vibing.

Johnny: 85% of the time skipping and sleeping in class the other 15% a class clown, axe covered, says where's my hug to the quiet girls genuinely out of niceness. Still passes some how though but just barely.

Taeyong: Every project has stickers on it and he puts a tiny TY beanie baby on the front of his desk in every class. The teachers baby him and tell everyone not to corrupt him. Hugs every teacher before and after class.

Yuta: Late to class, never in dress code, drawing on his arm all through out class, when he's late to class and a fight breaks out in the hallway he's in it and about to be suspended again.

Doyoung: Perfect, A+, shushes the class, helps the teacher grade, will ask "you forgot to pass out the homework" on a Friday. Does work the teacher didn't even ask for, wins every science fair. But will throw hands in the middle of class in split second.

Kun: Great student, loved by all teachers, puts an apple on the teachers desk, treats class like he's a ceo at the office. Files all of the papers for the teacher on free days.

Ten: Sitting on the teacher desk flirting for a better grade, always chewing gum, sits with his feet on the desk and calls the teachers by their first names.

Jaehyun: High everyday, balancing on the back legs of the chair as he's throwing pencils into the ceiling, sleeps past the bell and has to be woken up, asks to go to the bathroom and doesn't return till the following week.

Winwin: Doesn't know anyone's name not even the teachers, never has pencils or pens, uses one 90 page notebook for every class even though he has the entire school supply aisle in his backpack he always leaves in his locker.

Jungwoo: It's been five months and he still doesn't know where his classes are, Only uses a drawstring backpack, only has one pencil and single sheets of paper in a folder. Always opening chips in class. And a bag of McDonalds breakfast in the morning. Always joking and being disruptive then whimpering when he gets in trouble.

Mark: Has a well stocked back pack but never has anything he needs, he has a stapler, hole punch, graph paper, a protractor and label marker but no pens or pencils only highlighters and permanent markers, Asks "wait can you repeat that' every five minutes, either too early or too late. Does well but never does his homework and he tries to do it in homeroom and lunch every single day.

Xiaojun: Classroom heartthrob, always flipping his hair, laughing loudly and joking with his friends. Then quietly obeying the teacher when he gets too loud. Offers everyone around him gum. Only uses mechanical pencils and college rule paper.

Hendery: Class clown to the max, makes fun of the teacher behind their back, draws penises on the board when the teacher isn't around but no one snitches, only has a drawstring backpack with nothing but a chewed up pencil and carries his skateboard everywhere.

Renjun: He's just trying to get through the day, a good student but not a kiss ass. If the class is too loud he'll yell "shut the hell up' but because he has a headache. Has gotten into fights when someone bothers him. Finishes his work early all the time and asks to spend the rest of the period in the art class. Even skips gym to hang out with the art teacher and help with the class.

Jeno: Always has his headphones on, a good quiet student, doesn't even realize half of the class is in love with him. Happily gives anyone a pen, pencil or piece of paper. His feet are always on the desk as he's balancing on the chairs back legs while he listens to music during free time. Just there and vibing.

Haechan: Loud, has full on conversations with his friends in the hallway while he stands at the classroom door, yelling so damn loud. sits on the desk while talking to his friends untill he's told to sit in his seat. Gets into full heated debates about literally nothing. Has almost fought a teacher. Once a week says "fuck this shit" and walks out of class.

Jaemin: Always sleeping, doesn't really turn in assignments on time or at all. But he's willing to help when he can. Always has a starbucks cup he's had since six in the morning, pulls out a random piece of cake when he isn't sleeping. But gives the teachers random gifts and remembers their birthdays and offers snacks to everyone in class.

Yangyang: Thinks he's the popular class clown but really he's just loud for no reason, draws dicks all over the board but is always caught in the act. Has never turned in a single assignment but still passes just barely. Full on flirts with the hot young teacher, doesn't even carry a backpack only his skateboard. All you hear is chewing or laughing.

Shotaro: Is always listening to music and has to be shook when he's called on. Does his work silently but doesn't know how to ask for help but when he just looks at his work with sad eyes the teacher goes to him or has a student help him. The only person who doesn't dilly dally when he asks to use the bathroom or get water. Teachers check in on him a little more then other students. On free days naps using his backpack as a pillow while music blasts through his ears.

Sungchan: Sits quietly at his desk as he does his work. A good student but clams up when he's called on, stuttering and nervous but he still tries. Starts with a whole pack of pens and pencils but he gives out so many that he only has a pen cap and and half of an eraser by the end of the week. He always tells him self to say no but he never does.

Chenle: Barely in school but when in class he finishes his works within the first five minutes and groans when it's a class participation day. Leaves early and always has starbucks, mcdonalds, burger king or dunkin donuts. Every project and homework assignment is emailed so he can get his grade but not come in.

Jisung: Has to be sat right beside the teacher because he said he couldn't see the board once. Never raises his hand higher than above his shoulder. Does his homework but loses it right before he has to turn it in. Too afraid to ever skip class let alone take too much time in the bathroom. Only completes his class work so he can have the rest of the period on the computer where he goes to all of the sites with a cheat urls so it isn't blocked.

[seokiloquy]

Try Again - Akagi Michinari

Au: Hanahaki (Timeskip)

Requested

Tags/Warnings: GN! Reader, mentions of vomiting and drinking

Word Count: 2.5k

"Um, excuse me?"

To the left of your desk, leaning into the room by the doorway, was a girl, hand clenched by her chest as she gave you a wary look. You stood up from your desk, pacing the few steps to approach the quivering her.

"Ms Tsubasa, is everything alright?"

Tsubasa shook her head frantically. "Mira is in the bathroom. She's throwing up?"

Your brow hardened. "Is that a question?"

"No? I don't know. I think it might be..." she trailed off, looking at her shoes. "Can you come help?"

You sighed, chest weighing down a little. "Let's go."

Love was fickle. You knew that; most people knew that. People became infatuated with someone and lived their lives thinking everything was perfect. They held hands, went on dates, discussed their futures, and kissed. Then one day, they wake up to the feeling of acid in their mouth and harshness in their throat while they run to the bathroom clutching their churning stomachs, where eventually bile mixed with light-coloured petals falls out from their lips and into the toilet bowl.

Most people knew, but a select few found themselves in the situation where their partner of choice, often unknowingly, had led them on with no actual feelings of love but infatuation. It would leave the lover of the two sick to their stomach. In rarer cases, if the relationship had gone on too long and became too unbalanced, the lover developed hanahaki disease, while the infatuated remained unaffected.

The petals from hanahaki are a phenomenon within themselves. They weren't actual flower petals. That would require the lover to have consumed them. The essential components of what created the structures to take their shape had been speculated to be caused by a particular bodily reaction, while one's suspicions of their partner not loving them became stronger as evidence grew.

Usually, those with good intuition are more likely to develop hanahaki. It starts with an average gut feeling, leading to questioning, where many would leave the relationship before anything harmful occurred. If they didn't go and didn't speak to their partner, the lover's gut feeling would worsen, making them feel sick. Their stomachs would twist and churn until, eventually, they were throwing up petals into the toilet of their bathroom.

It's a painful experience, so much so that many don't even form many romantic relationships or crushes, knowing the repercussions if it goes wrong. But there are a few that throw caution to the wind.

Luckily there are ways to combat it. Option one: lose feelings. This is often the most favoured solution. It solves the problem and requires no outside help, but it can be a long and tedious process that can lead to health problems if not guided. That then leads on to Option two: therapy. Not enough people took it, in your opinion, whether it was for hanahaki or otherwise. Then there is Option three: surgery. This repeatedly came back with reports of people becoming completely apathetic afterwards and then needing to take therapy to regain their sense of emotions if they thought it would be best. 

The surgery is often not recommended except in life-saving situations.

You hated knowing this. Having the information stored in the back of your mind to spew out like a fun tidbit whenever one of your friends mentioned getting in a relationship with somebody new. Then when a couple fell sideways, you'd be privy to the information they needed to prevent or deal with the repercussions. Sometimes you wondered if you should have become a therapist since you acted the role for those around you. But after going through so many rounds, you figured you weren't cut out for it.

Instead of sitting in a quiet office with soft couches, you stood in the back of a brick-walled room, dragging white chalk against green boards and talking about the human body, or sitting at your desk and marking during break periods. 

It was your own time to relax. However, a student occasionally came in with a request or news.

Suzuki Mira's crush on the school's basketball captain had gone too far. You hoped she wouldn't be like you. She'd be fine, so long as she wasn't too stubborn.

The staff room was often busy. Even during class, there were enough people in the room to make it feel full. You pushed through the door and walked toward the fridge where your lunch was waiting for you.

"Whoah, you're in a rush. Where are you headed?"

Enter Akagi Michinari, the physical education teacher, an extrovert that could run, jump and twist his body around like an excited dog for hours while keeping a wide, encouraging smile on his face that many students appreciated.

However much you appreciated him teaching the complementing course to your own, you had to avoid him at all costs. Smiling at the man, you skirted past. "I'm grabbing my lunch."

"What are you eating?"

"Leftover noodles." You bent into the fridge, pulled your meal out, and then turned toward the microwave. 

Akagi followed. "Oh, did you make them?"

"I did."

"Can I try some?"

Once it was warm, you could give him a bite and be on your merry way back into the quiet of your classroom and eat while waiting for the lunch period to be over. That made sense.

"Sure," you said, watching the timer on the microwave countdown.

"Great! I'll meet you in your room!"

Your heart pounded. Complete failure, every time. Why do you even bother trying? Really, with the number of times he had pulled a similar stunt, you should have expected it.

When you got to your room, Akagi played with the short spikes of his hair, munching on a sandwich while reading over your biology displays.

You walked to your desk and unpacked your food, keeping your head down as he quickly made his lunch disappear.

"There's a staff dinner happening on Friday. Are you going?"

He pulled up one of the spare chairs you had tucked in the corner of the room and sat next to you, setting his elbow on your desk and leaning into it, crumpling the papers underneath.

"Akagi, the tests." You pointed to the point his track jacket made contact with the papers. "I still have to hand those back. Could you lift your arm?"

"Sorry!" He lifted his arm, his voice cracking slightly as his cheeks reddened. "I didn't notice them."

Smiling slightly, you pulled the papers away and dropped them in the opposite corner.

"So, staff dinner?"

Akagi was a relentless coworker. While he would back up if requested, he often knew precisely what people wanted and would push for them to get there. Last year, he got the principal in the pool with the swim team for the senior's graduation party. The man says it has been his favourite moment at school so far.

Just like with the principal staring longingly into the swimming pool's deep end, Akagi was pushing you to join him and the rest of the school staff for a night out as summer break approached.

You wanted to say no. If you went, there could be irreparable damages. Soul-crushing damages that you would rather not have to live through.

"Akagi, that sounds like fun, but I have things to assign and grade, and my time after school is all booked up."

"That's a lie. You haven't assigned anything to your students this week except for some summer reading."

It felt like you had bitten into something sour. Pursing your lips, you pushed your thermos away. Akagi grabbed it, taking a bite without caring for sharing your used chopsticks.

You coughed, trying to dispel the heat pooling in your cheeks. "How did you find that out?"

"Well, you always do that before a break, and our students told me." he smiled, shoving another collection of noodles into his cheeks. "This is really good, by the way. Would you make me some?"

Warm cheeks be damned. You couldn't fight it down. "Fine."

"And how about staff dinner?"

"Only if you pay."

Akagi smiled, leaning into your desk with the palm of his hand pressed into his cheek. "I'm okay with that."

Your stomach had been fluttering all week. In and out of class, sending your heart into a spiral every time you thought about attending the staff dinner that Friday. It hadn't gotten to the point of falling off the deep end, but you were still scared, anticipating the pin drop for you to fall onto your knees on the tiled floor of your bathroom.

Practice makes it easier to make those emotions invisible to the untrained eye. If no one cared to take notice, they wouldn't.

The restaurant the staff had collectively chosen was a bit of a distance from the school. Far enough away that it was unlikely for a student to appear and make the group turn their teacher personalities back on. Seeing them so relaxed, slouching, drinking, and stuffing their faces with food was strange. It wasn't often they got to act like this. Part of you hoped the night would last long enough for them to enjoy themselves. Another part hoped that a student would show and you could use them as a way to sneak off, but that was unlikely.

Akagi dropped a few rolls onto your plate as he served himself. Not letting you get the chance to even reach across the table.

"Akagi, I can serve myself."

He used his chopsticks to carry some sashimi over to you. "Let me handle it."

"No, really, I can do it."

"I want to."

Why did his eyes have to glitter and stare so deeply into your soul? Sharp and keen, he could pick up on anything with practice.

You looked to your plate and swallowed your protests.

The twisting feeling in your stomach increased every time the PE teacher glanced your way or asked a question, to you or otherwise. You wanted to look him in the eye, memorise every feature and meet his questions with passionate responses because you did have them, and ask some in return. Every time you tried, however, there was a pull in your chest trying to drag you down. You just couldn't risk it.

You finished dinner while everyone else hadn't even gotten halfway through. They were all in conversation. One group talked about sports, Akagi was included with them, another group discussed summer plans, and the rest were too far for you to hear.

On your other side sat the principal, patting his stomach while he spoke like a poet about sunbathing on the beach, his plans for summer.

"Um, sir?" you patted his arm and glanced at Akagi, who was still running a spoken marathon about volleyball with the Japanese History teacher. "I've finished eating and left my pay, but I'm just going to head home."

"Oh, of course! Do you have a way back?"

You shook your head a bit. "It's sunny still. I'll just walk."

"Alright, I'll see you in two weeks!"

It was the fastest you had ever walked, one step after the next, nearly getting into a jog as you rushed out of the restaurant, up the sidewalk, and back home.

Running away, rather speed walking away, was cowardly. You were a coward. So be it. If it had to be done, so be it. No matter how much you would have loved to stick around and stay side by side. You weren't sure if you would last. Would it be a day, weeks, months until you began to wither away?

Maybe like the time before, it would be years, and you would be none the wiser till you found yourself sick and suffering.

Two weeks to decompress should be fine. Meditation to control your emotions and throw away attachments. It should have worked.

Sadly, Akagi had a keen eye.

"Why are you at my house?"

"You ran off from dinner. I was worried. I was supposed to pay. Here's your cash, by the way."

You pushed his hand with the flimsy paperback. "Keep it. It's fine. Go enjoy your summer."

With one hand on the door, you were about to seal the wall closed and hideaway when Akagi's hand held it open. It didn't take much force, your grip was weak, and he likely had taken notice. But his words had your grip slacking.

"Why do you keep running away?" His eyes, usually big and bright, had turned into a squint, confused. As he talked, his hands became more animated. "Like, seriously. I try to get you to do things and come out of your shell more. I can tell you want to. I can see it in your eyes. Whenever I think I'm a little closer, you run away again. Why do you keep running? I like you. Can't you see that? "

With shut eyes, you took a deep breath and pulled your door open. "Come in."

Akagi sat on the couch while you went to a dust-covered drawer and pulled out a small cracked frame from one of the drawers.

"Here," you said, handing him the photo.

"Wedding photos? You're married?"

"Was. I was married." You pulled out an equally sized glass jar and joined him on the couch.

The jar hit the coffee table with a thud before silence filled the room.

"Are those?"

"Hanahaki flower petals." Taking the cracked picture frame from Akagi's hands, you set it down next to the jar. "Don't ask why I kept them. I couldn't keep the ones from surgery. It's just some morbid reminder."

"So, they didn't love you?"

"Maybe for a time. But we married young, far too young, straight out of high school, and as we grew up, we also grew apart, till eventually, I was the only one left loving. And yet it took years before I finally left."

"You got the surgery?"

"I had no choice. I wouldn't die loving someone who didn't love me back. Even if it was tempting." You laughed, but Akagi was quiet. "If it helps, I did manage to fix the apathy problem. Somewhat."

The athlete at your side waited a few seconds before taking in a breath to speak. "So that's why you knew how to help Suzuki Mira. You'd gone through it before."

"You knew about that?"

"She started getting sick during a run. At first, I thought it was just the heat. But teenagers don't tend to stay too quiet."

You nodded, rubbing the sweat on your palms against your knees. "I'm sorry for running. It's not that I don't like you. I like you a lot. It's just terrifying."

"I may not fully understand," Akagi shifted to face you directly, placing his hand on top of yours that was still sweating on your knee. "But it's scary for me too. I don't want to hurt you."

"You can't control that."

"Well, you haven't thrown up any petals yet, have you? You might find I've liked you for longer than you realise."

The air in your lungs felt cold and clean. "How about some noodles for dinner?"

As always, I try and do something a bit different when it comes to popular Aus, I think this was interesting. - Bacon

Posted: 25/09/2022

#akagi michinari #akagi x reader #akagi michinari x reader #Haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #x reader #oneshot #oneshots #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu reader insert #reader insert #aus #haikyuu aus #fluff #haikyu #haikyu x reader #anime x reader #anime

[hideyseek]

FIVE. FIVE FIVE FIVE FIVE

EHEHEHE THANK U JORDAN MWAH IM SO GLAD UR SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS BECAUSE ME FUCKING TOO

#5 for the wips ask game is stagedoor!verse. this is basically... bring your fandom to work day for me. i've always thought that the structure of a dreamshare team matches pretty well to that of a production team (and in particular, the role of point man lines up with stage management in ways i really enjoy). there are actually a few wips in this verse in different time periods (because i love the idea of stage managers delivering the next day's call over voicemail!) and with different role-character configurations but this is set in modern day.

8:00pm. Arthur pushes his headset mic into place at the corner of his mouth, thumbs the button for the backstage monitors, and says quietly, “Places please, places for the top of the show.” He can hear the rustle and murmur of the audience filtering into the booth from his speaker. 

At the lightboard, Takahashi squeaks nervously. 

The channel clicks off, and he can hear his heart rattling in his chest. He thumbs the deck channel and says, “Arthur to deck. Cast just got their call, let me know when I have places, please.”

He sits down. Fidgets. Swaps his radio with his water bottle on his table and then switches them back. Brushes fingertips nervously over his first set of cues, the ones that bring the house lights down. He can see the director in the second row, center stage, red dress and black cardigan. She’ll be up onstage receiving flowers in two hours when this is all over. 

His headset buzzes. “Ariadne to Arthur.” 

“Arthur here.”

“You have places stage right.”

“Thank you stage right.”

Someone in the balcony gets up from their seat, and Arthur grits his teeth. It’s 8:07 already. On average, shows start nine minutes after curtain, but Arthur has never been comfortable with average. 

“Arthur to Nash, how’s it going stage left?”

“Everyone except Eames.”

“Of course,” Arthur says tightly. “Ariadne, is Eames stage right?”

“Ariadne here,” she says, “and nope.” She doesn’t pop the P, which means she knows it’s serious.

Arthur stares at the audience, at the well-lit empty stage, and feels helpless. Opening night, and things are already going wrong. Mal is here and it’s 8:08pm and if Arthur opens this show a second after average he’s going to lose his goddamn mind. “Someone find Eames please, so we can open this —”

“Places stage left,” says Nash breathlessly. “You have places stage left. He was in the bathroom.”

Arthur takes his hand off the comms for a minute to hiss, “Jesus Christ,” in a tone that makes Takahashi wince, and then pushes to talk again and says, “Thank you, Nash.” 

He thumbs all the channel buttons on. “Hello everyone, we have places,” he says, in the careful cadence he’s memorized by now. The radio crackles, Arthur picks it up and says, “We have places.”

Over the radio Yusuf says, “Excellent news. I’ll see you out of the corner of my eye during intermission."

“Sounds great,” says Arthur, already shifting into show mode. Then he sets his index finger next to his first set of cues and says softly, “Standby, lights 1 and sound 100.” He breathes in, out.

“Lights and sound, go.” 

The theater dims, and the audience quiets in a wave. Arthur’s heart pounds in his chest, a dull twinge he can hear over the silence of everyone in the booth holding their breath. Over the loudspeaker, Saito’s recorded voice says gravely, “Good evening, and welcome everyone to the Proclus Playhouse...”

#inception #main-for-capfalcon #ask game #hidey speaks #wips ask game #stagedoor!verse

[the-feminist-philosopher]

(i am white so take what i say here w a grain of salt, but i felt its worth saying)

i wanna say, that on your post talking about gender segregated bathrooms, people claiming that its to "protect women" comes off as a very white "feminist" thing to say. because white women are largely viewed as needing protection by white supremacists, and therefore are often coddled much more than women of color . the only way that one could see it as protecting women is if they themselves are in the group of women who is normally "protected" from things. and im not saying that white women dont face violent misogyiny but on average they're more likely to be infantilized than WoC by mysogynists. also, women arent the ones who invented gender segregated bathrooms, and if they really were advocating for them then we wouldnt have them, because women were not at all taken seriously back when they were invented/popularized.

also its annoying how ppl act like womens bathrooms are some sorta sacred protecting space. them shits nasty. theyre just as bad as mens bathrooms. nothing sacred or safe about them. maybe sometimes people do seek shelter in them like from someone following them but overall it's just a goddamn bathroom and the only difference between it and them mens room is number of stalls + lack of urinals.

sorry if this makes no sense im very tired but i needed to get my thoughts out.

I appreciate the disclaimer. I, personally, think it's important to note that who we are and where we come from might color our worldview.

It seems common knowledge that the idea that women's spaces are these sacred places designed to be untouched by men under the paternalistic guise of protecting them can and has been used to racially discriminatory ends.

I want to provide people with some excerpts from a piece I was reading about sex, gender-roles, and fascism in Britain.

"[Fascist] propaganda neatly lays out two key themes that racial populists would repeatedly recycle from this point onwards: first, that immigration causes crime; and, second, that immigration is a threat to public health (and here they specifically point to leprosy, venereal disease, trachoma, blood transfusions and tuberculosis). Venereal disease links immigration with sex, which relates co-textually with the photo in the bottom corner: a black man walking on the street with a white woman... When viewed in concert— intertextually—a sense of the message that the RPS is promoting becomes clearer: that non-white men are [increasingly] entering into sexual relationships with white women. The RPS’s battle to ‘preserve’ [the white] race was articulated around the dynamic of appropriate gender roles. The white women in these images are constructed as shamefully betraying their role as safeguarders of the reproductive futurity of the white race. White men, it is implied, must intervene in the sex lives of (their) white women, and protect the nation from these dark and virile men."

...

"Incompatibility is made a matter both of blood and culture, which are thereby conflated. Miscegenation was not only a threat created by consensual sex; black men were also represented in fascist discourse of this period as committing acts of sexual violence against white women. The NF routinely constructed black male sexuality as ‘perverted’, and ‘fear of the “animalistic” Black male as sexual predator’ was widely deployed. While the British (white) man’s proper gender role was that of protector as father and husband, the black man was thus constructed as his antithesis. During their heyday in the 1970s, the NF printed accounts of black men raping white women on almost a weekly basis."

‘Breeders for race and nation’: gender, sexuality and fecundity in post-war British fascist discourse

###

Sex-segregated bathrooms were constructed with the purpose of continuing to limit women’s access to the public sphere because men were hesitant to fully integrate women into public society.

And the common rebuttal so far has been, "Well, in some countries women have no restrooms that they are allowed to use in public." And, that's true. That is also still a system of sex segregated bathrooms with the purpose of limiting/deterring women's access to the public sphere.

It also completely ignored how the crux of my argument was that bathrooms in my country (in most countries, if I'm being honest) inadequately serve women with the purpose of deterring their presence in public. And also deterring the presence of disabled people, elderly folk, and homeless individuals too.

I'm not over here arguing that people aren't entitled to their own sense of privacy. Do women want to create a women's only bathroom for themselves? Okay. I'm not going to stop them. I have met assault victims who are very uncomfortable around male-presenting people. I'm not going to deny them a sense of comfort in the public sphere.

But I also recognize that it's just a sense of comfort or feeling of safety. What creates actual safety is not a sign on the door. Believing that creating segregated communities or strengthening our current segregation through more sex-exclusive spaces will somehow make society safer is an illusion. It may give you a sense of safety, but it does not create a safe system and it does nothing to challenge our current dynamics.

A simple sign on the door does not deter assailants. The reason someone wasn't assaulted in the women's room the other day isn't because of a sign, but because there were no assailants to assault them nearby.

And such language also puts the onus of responsibility on the victim of assault rather than the perpetrator. "Using a men's room or unisex room will get you assaulted" is a similar victim blaming as "wearing a short skirt will get you assaulted." We cannot control for other's actions and what will keep us safe, in the long-run, is holding perpetrators accountable and believing assault survivors.

Same goes for changing our popular and cultural beliefs that men (cis men) are entitled to a woman's time, attention, and body. If we go without challenging that, we will continue to see disproportionate rates of assault.

There is a correlation between race and assault (black and brown women experience higher rates of assault), sexuality and assault (bisexual and lesbian women experience higher rates of assault), class and assault (poorer women in economically disadvantaged areas experience higher rates of IPV and assault), location and assault (women in impoverished or war-torn areas experience higher rates of assault), and occupation and assault (sex workers face disproportionate rates of assault). Assaults like rape are very tied to power imbalances; it is about about control and dominance as well as power imbalance and hate. Many assailants have feelings of "taking back" what they rightfully deserve.

A rapist usually believes misogynistic rape myths like the idea that women play hard to get. They feel they are entitled to someone else’s time and body. They get off on depriving someone else of power. There is a link between narcissism and rape with repeat offenders displaying signs of narcissism. Men who rape sometimes have antisocial tendencies, so they really don’t care about social perceptions of them.

However, there is no evidence that mentally ill men are more likely to rape compared to non-mentally ill men.

Social pressure and culture have greater influence over someone’s behavior than genetics or biology. Those who feel sure they can get away with rape without punishment are more likely to report they used coercive behavior. Those with friends who display aggressive behavior or acceptance of aggressive behavior are themselves more likely to engage in aggressive behavior. X

A sign on the door doesn't solve any of this. Arguing about signs on doors and who can use which room because of a little sign on the door is a distraction. It has us squabbling among ourselves and has entire swaths of women convinced that the creation of any unisex bathroom (it's usually the creation of a third, separate bathroom that is open to all as we do not see the supplanting of sex-segregated restrooms) is erasing women all because right-wing websites have been able to successfully whip-up an anti-trans frenzy under the guise of "protecting women and girls."

So now we have bills proposing genital inspections on girls to make sure their pronouns and internal sense of self matches their gonads and assigned class at birth. And we have performance maximums and disqualifiers whereby women who naturally produce too much testosterone can't compete without taking medication to reduce their hormones because it's supposedly "more fair."

The infantilization of (usually white) women is infuriating.

The patriarchy has literally taken some women's anti-trans beliefs to justify encroaching on women's rights and access to public spaces and opportunities. And that is why I always say that by insisting on defining feminism through the exclusion of certain people in their advocacy, TERFs have created the very tool with which the alt-right seeks to use to destroy feminism all together.

#txt #Sorry this got so long #I've turned off reblogs #because I don't want rad fems harassing you #or insisting that this rhetoric cannot be used for racist ends

[cratebaker1]

Apartment Tips: Asking Suitable Questions

If assess to identify exactly you actually are paying per square foot, consider the total set you back will pay for one month's rent and divide it with total sq . ft . in the apartment interior. For example, generally if the cost that are of a one bedroom apartment property is $950 along with the square footage is 700 sq ft, perform pursuing calculations. $950 dollars divided by 700 square feet equals to $1.35 per square legs.

The Clinton Street Apartments feature high ceilings and hardwood floor coverings. New appliances are on the granite surface kitchen and marble shower. Heat and water are included inside price of rent during this ideally located apartment social. It is within walking distances a number of parks, public transit, shops and a beautiful nightlife. A studio apartment costs around $1,395 thirty day period. The average apartment vacancy rate in Canada decreased slightly in 2006 to two.6 percent, down nil.1 percent from the year before. Top vacancy rates were in Windsor (10.4 percent), Saint John (6.8 percent) and St. John's (5.1 percent). Meanwhile, the smallest vacancy rates were primarily found out west, with Calgary (0.5 percent), Victoria (0.5 percent) and Vancouver (0.7 percent) being the cities when using the vnpt internet line for rent least number of available rentals. An apartment complex might just be great starting point live you need to know to be social and interact web sites on consistently. However, renting a house can necessary under some luxury of home coping with the flexibility of if you know that someone else will look after the any problems you have with after you. If you have a family, it end up being easier to reside a house because talk to will offer more space for yourself and our children. This week, we wish to share three tips to own a more energy-efficient apartment. Regardless how low power bill is, why not test to get go even lower, good? Too ? https://vnptvinaphone.net.vn/chuong-trinh-khuyen-mai-lap-mang-vnpt-ha-noi-thang-1-2021/ , look for the blue banners the actual use of community's text code, then see starting prices of a floor guidelines.this will let you know if you are searching for stopping interested in begin more investigating. 124 Electronic.12th Street Apartments are garden-style apartments unit the 1980s and renovated in 2002. It is a small community, with only 11 units. A single bedroom, one bathroom apartment is around $925 calendar month. On-site laundry and parking are accessible.

#bảng giá cước internet vnpt ưu đãi

[corrieluscardiology]

Managing an OverActive Bladder

Are you feeling like you constantly need to go? Are you unable to get out of the home of worry of always needing the restroom? You are one of the many. More than 33 million Americans suffer from an overactive bladder. Overactive Bladder (OAB) is an ordinary disorder that can affect up to approximately 40% of women in their lifetime. OAB can result in urinary incontinence - the loss of bladder control, clearly an embarrassing issue. Those with OAB also called urge incontinence, experience a hasty, strong urge to urinate during the daytime and nighttime; they may also dribble before reaching the restroom.

What is an OverActive Bladder? Overactive Bladder (OAB) provokes a frequent and hurried urge to urinate that may be tough to restrain. You may feel like you ought to pass urine numerous times during the day and night, and may also experience involuntary discharge (urgency incontinence). OAB results in someone needing to discharge more than the usual 7 to 8 times per 24 hours. Therefore, OAB generally consists of four symptoms: an urgent necessity to urinate a need to urinate more often than average waking from sleep to urinate haste incontinence (urine leakage). OAB is not due to the consequences of urinary tract infection or a neurologic disorder such as multiple sclerosis, and your physician should rule this out.

Who is at risk for developing OAB?

Though OAB can transpire to anyone, some individuals are more prone than others, and the probabilities increase for mostly all of us as we age. Women have a slightly more elevated risk than men, thanks to bladder modifications after menopause.

Other factors contributing to OAB enclose obesity, smoking, and diabetes, as well as:

Specific pharmaceuticals Enlarged prostate or equivalent bottlenecks Disproportionate caffeine and liquor infusion A neurodegenerative disorder such as Parkinson's, multiple sclerosis, or stroke Mobility problems, including arthritis

How is OAB diagnosed? To appropriately diagnose your OAB—and eradicate other potential reasons for incontinence—your healthcare provider will need a precise medical record. Physical and neurological exams may be regulate, as will a urine examination and conceivably a bladder scan.

Along with many other diagnostic tools, your physician may also use a uroflowmetry to gauge your urine volume, or cystometry, which calculates how your urine flow relates to your bladder pressure. What are the treatments for this condition? Once your OAB has been diagnosed, the first sequence of treatment will most probably be workouts and behavioral transformations—something you can do by yourself, at home. You may be asked to cut back on caffeine and alcohol or to shed a few pounds. The doctor might tell you to drink fewer fluids, particularly close to bedtime. You may be appointed one or more of the subsequent exercises: Kegels, during which you bend and hold your pelvic floor muscles to enhance bladder control

Bladder training, during which you rehearse being able to retain your urine for longer and longer durations

Scheduled voiding, during which you set certain periods of the day for bathroom trips until you don't feel the longing to urinate at different times Keeping a bladder journal, where you record when and how considerably you pee, can also help pinpoint your triggers. A word from the team — OAB can make everyday life difficult, but you're not alone in this fight. You may find support and ideas to cope with OAB from friends, family, your healthcare provider, and others who are also suffering from the condition. Reach out to them and get help as soon as possible! So, if you need further help regarding your health and wellness and want to know how you can manage your OAB, contact Corrielus Cardiology today!

Source: Managing an OverActive Bladder

#OveractiveBladder #OveractiveBladderSymptoms #OveractiveBladderTest

[godzillerd]

Heisenberg Headcanons Pt.2 Electric Boogaloo

What’s that? This is basically turning into a place where I air out potential fic ideas and random ass headcanons? You are correct, sir. You are correct. 

Heisenberg’s hair went gray at a very, very young age. It had nothing to do with the Cadou, but stress is a hell of a thing. 

His Cadou organ is cuddled right up with his liver. When it is damaged - especially stabbed - he loses all control over his powers and essentially ‘leaks’ electricity, becoming a hazard to everyone around him. 

Heisenberg will do everything in his power to get people out of range if this happens, even if he wants them dead. His rationale being that if he’s going to kill someone, he’s going to do it deliberately and of his own volition - not because his body shit the bed.

Out of all four siblings, Heisenberg has (had) the best reputation around the village. Was it a good reputation? No. But it was better than the rest, namely because he kept to himself and didn’t do anything explicitly terrible where the average villager could see.

His tendency to openly insult Lady Dimitrescu also helped boost his rep around town. 

In a similar vein, despite being a self-confessed introvert and happy about it, Heisenberg is, again, much more capable of carrying on a conversation than his siblings. He tends to be a little too sharp with his wit, and he becomes annoyed with topics very quickly, but overall most villagers consider him, at worst, a little eccentric. Some are even quite fond of him.

He doesn’t like animals at all. That said, his experiments require disposing of a massive amount of human offal, so needless to say, there is a bountiful stray cat population around the factory, as well as many, many brown bears that lurk in the area.

He’s had his jacket and hat for going on 50 years. Alcina gave him both in accordance with ‘modern American fashion’. Despite falling out with her not long after, Heisenberg is still extremely fond of his effects and has jumped through a lot of hoops in terms of repairing them over the years. 

Similar to his belief that food, drink, and sleep are wastes of time, Heisenberg also does not bathe frequently. The factory doesn’t have bathrooms, in fact, so on the rare occasions he’s been assed to get a bath, he’s had to walk out to a nearby spring. 

If he smells, he doesn’t know it so he doesn’t care. 

Oddly, his body odor does tend to be overwhelmed by general metal fabrication smells. 

Part of the reason behind his avoidance (besides simply not caring) is that Heisenberg’s Cadou reacts... uncomfortably to water. If he gets wet, he often shocks himself. 

He hates the summer. The factory is already a glorified furnace, but if there’s a run of good, hot days in the summer, even Heisenberg can’t stand to stay in there. 

Despite normally not requiring it, Heisenberg drinks an absurd amount of water during particularly hot summers, as his body is still capable of sweating under duress and he gets dehydration headaches just like the rest of the world. 

If temperatures in the factory exceed 145 degrees Fahrenheit for a prolonged period of time, he runs the risk of taking on more internal damage than he can heal. 

It took him a very long time (and a lot of organ damage) to accept that there was a temperature that he couldn’t work with if he just stuck it out. 

Heat stroke is one of those rare types of damage that really takes him down for the count. He usually sleeps on and off for days to recover from it, and feels like shit for even longer.

#RE8 #re8 karl heisenberg #re8 headcanons #Resident Evil 8 #Resident Evil Village #Headcanons #Karl Heisenberg #alcina dimitrescu #My life is nothing but headcanons #RP #This man doesn't shower #And that is disgusting

[transcendentalmaggot]

It only took two and a half years and three months before they actually scheduled my hearing in front of an administrative judge for my SSDI appeal. I have to wait until May for a process that started in March 2020. I have absolutely no idea what I am going to do if I’m denied and now my lawyer is suggesting I have a painful procedure and several expensive tests re-done because they were performed more than 2 years ago (despite the fact that if the results turn out to be any different - that somehow multiple damaged nerves on my left side have miraculously healed or my kidney scarring and hydronephrosis have somehow reversed themselves despite both being a medical impossibility as they are the result of a birth defect and dozens of surgeries). Once the hearing occurs, the average time it takes for a decision to be made is several months and then most likely several more months (a minimum of 5) beyond that before I’d actually receive the benefits if it’s approved. Then it’s 2 more years before I’ll qualify for Medicare.

It’s truly a just system where we’d rather immiserate, interrogate, and perform unnecessary tests on sick people on the off chance that someone “undeserving” will get approved. The old American healthcare ethos of “Maybe they’ll die before we have to pay them. Maybe they’ll simply give up. Maybe they’ll magically become healthy enough to work again during the waiting period” lives on.

Isn’t that the American way? Better for thousands of innocent people to be punished than for the mere possibility that a bad actor may take advantage and slip through. It truly helps that they’ve set it up so your best option for getting through the process is being perfectly healthy because being disabled means you’re not in a position to fully advocate for yourself or easily access medical services. But I know that the insidious truth is that they want us to go away and quietly die in a way that allows them to deflect responsibility while the rest of able-bodied society can continue to believe that a safety net exists, that your insurance will cover your medical needs (despite being employer based and therefore will not be available once you need it the most), and not to worry - work yourself to death! Unhealthy behavior like sleep deprivation, repetitive motion, sedentary tasks, chronic understaffing, working with hazardous chemicals, heavy lifting, and a thousand different dangers that can lead to illness and/or injury don’t count if it’s for the sake of your employer making a profit off of your labor and cutting one of their only variable costs - staffing and the benefits offered to their employees. And if you start to experience symptoms then that must mean you did something wrong or you must deserve it as punishment for irresponsibility as health is now a reflection of one’s morality or worthiness.

I miss working, as ridiculous as it may sound, I miss being around people and experiencing something as simple as being able to go to the grocery store, and the feeling of being productive outside of the small research projects and writing I’ve been doing on my own. I miss being a part of the world and I feel completely caged in my own skin. What do I say now when people ask what I do? Our identities and self are so constructed around employment that I am now truly no one at all in the eyes of society, or at best a burden to make others feel more grateful and inspired about their circumstances. I know in my heart that this exploitive system is bullshit but a lifetime of having these beliefs drilled into my head is not easily changed. I feel like a complete and utter failure. And for what? Do I only deserve to exist if I can spend at least 8 hours a day apologizing for immoral company policies or screw ups I have no authority to fix so middle management can have more time to chart everyone’s bathroom breaks?

I appreciate the offers of help and all of your kindness. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to reach out or respond to anyone. I’m not in a place where I can handle talking to anyone and I’m very sorry for that. I love you all, I do. I don’t blame anyone if they’re angry with me. I have a very tough time feeling like I am anyone at all and talking makes me shut down. It’s completely my own issue and in no way is any of this a reflection that I am ungrateful for your friendship.

#venting #disability #long post

[michasnape]

NIGHTINGALE — MONASTERY

  ♰

 

Nightingale Monastery is made up of a set of educational laws to recreate the impure, created by Voldemort and administered by several Death Eaters who work in the Ministry. Lucius Malfoy manages the school, while the disciplinarian and vice-principal Bellatrix Lestrange leads the good behaviour of the muggle born and half-blood girls. 

The dress is intended to preserve good manners and indicate the blood status of the pupils, thus making it easier for the organisers and staff to identify their targets. The dresses are long from head to toe, closed and sewn from wrist to top of neck. The black is for the half-bloods and the bright red is for those muggle born, thus, aiming to draw attention to those who are considered more inferior than the half-bloods. Their hair is tied in unbearably tight coils on top of their heads and covered by a scarf, usually white. The shoes are mid-calf boots, black or brown, tied with many laces, taking on average five to seven minutes for any girl to remove them. Jewellery and make-up are strictly prohibited.

The feeding is considerably regulated and is done three times a day, being merely free to drink water. All get up only when the break is over, being punished on stage in front of all their colleagues and teachers, if the student does not ask for permission. Almost always the requests are denied, except to go to the toilet. The break lasts an average of forty minutes to an hour, and the pupils can enjoy a short break. 

The lights go out at eight o'clock at night on the dot and all the rooms are watched over by a woman, in her position as watchman. And the next morning, at five o'clock sharp, they all get up, gaining fifteen minutes to take the shared shower and get dressed, to have coffee and start their classes. 

The wands are collected and stored in a chest bewitched to open only for the owner, Bellatrix Lestrange, and only returned during class, for academic purposes, then returned again at the end of the first and second period. The punishment for those who use it out of purpose or try to attack someone is severe, sometimes a week without eating, three days without water or, depending on the proportion, the Cruciatus curse is taken as an instrument of torture, there are other disciplinarians who prefer the beating with their hands, objects or leaving them trapped in the cold room. 

Talking, gesticulating and laughing too much is seen as easy targets for punishment and for other broken rules, it becomes worse. Respect for authority is taken as a great virtue and all teachers and organisers are free to educate them in their own ways. 

Classes are divided into two periods, morning and afternoon. The grids are the same every day, from Monday to Friday, except for Saturdays and Sundays to clean their rooms, the classrooms, the library and have their reading periods. Each class lasts 2 and a half hours, becoming several times unbearable and dull for the female students, many of them with anxiety disorders acquired by the battle. The subjects are: Potions, The Dark Arts, Instruments — Weapons — Muggle and Witches, Personal/Social Relations, Muggle Fighting and Witch Dueling, Handling of Dark Beasts. There are three school years, with pupils aged between seventeen and twenty. There are failures.

The castle is separated by the North Wing: Kitchen, dining hall — Next to it a bathroom — Up the stairs, classrooms and library — Down the hall from the last of the region, the equipment room.  South wing: Shared shower room, punishment room — Next to the directorate at the bottom of the region and bedrooms. Communal A: Half-bloods and Communal B: Muggle born.

There are no boards and no stairs that move. 

Secret exits and entrances are protected by spells of pain and mental confusion — Only Lord Voldemort has access and his own password. The front and back of the castle is protected and monitored by guards armed with their wands and dressed in the uniforms of Comensals, except they do not wear masks. 

The oldest muggle born and half-blood, including date and year, is in charge of assisting her younger colleagues in cleaning, organising and following the rules of living together. 

Hermione Granger is the muggle born with the worst academic and behavioural development, for refusing such orders. She is the oldest, — Getting on nineteen, (of her room) with students of seventeen and eighteen years who did not complete first than her. 

Interestingly, Lord Voldemort instructed the authorities not to overdo her punishments, leaving her body free of marks and less exhausted. 

Hermione Granger was free for a time after the battle, until she was captured by Death Eaters in London and brought to Nightingale.

#hermione granger #tomione fanfiction #tom x hermione #tomione #tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #ao3fic #ao3feed #ao3 tags #ao3 writer #ao3 #ao3 fanfic

[ladykissingfish]

Highschool with the Akatsuki

*Modern-Day*

Hidan

Behavioral nightmare. Fidgets, drops things, disrupts others’ work, talks during study/quiet times. Has to be constantly reprimanded for his inappropriate jokes and foul language. Sent to the principal‘s office so much that he was asked his opinion when the man was choosing new carpeting. Most of his friends are exactly like him, so if they’re in the same class they have to be seated clear across the room from each other. Can be a good student when he TRIES; but doesn’t see the point in trying, so will just barely be passing his classes with C’s and D’s. Skinny jeans and Vans with open flannel shirts over white or black tank. Wears a necklace with strange symbol on it, when asked what it represents he’ll say “my religion” but won’t elaborate. In the bathroom between every class grabbing “a quick smoke”. Dyed his hair silver as a joke in the 6th grade, has kept it that way ever since.

Kakuzu

As serious as a heart attack, no matter the situation. Incredibly tall and with a stern face; is almost always mistaken for being the teacher by new kids. Has an impressive collection of “old-man” sweaters. The stingiest guy alive with a buck; will actually make you hand-write him an IOU slip over borrowing 50 cents for the vending machine. Decent in all subjects but a star in Economics. Has one or two “friends” but doesn’t seem particularly close to them (or anyone else for that matter). Doesn’t talk a lot in class but when he does it’s usually because he disagrees with a point the teacher is making, and he isn’t afraid to debate him or her until he’s acknowledged as being correct.

Deidara

Deidara is one of those people who needs constant stimulation to keep him engaged in whatever’s going on. Since school tends to involve a lot of tedious repetition, paying attention in class isn’t something he’s the best at. Most likely to “finish up” his homework assignments five minutes before class starts. Grades tend to fall in the B-/C+ range. The type to always pick a seat that’s in the back of the room and/or closest to the window. Has a sketchbook that he carries around with him wherever he goes. Style consists of ripped jeans over fishnets, combat boots, fingerless gloves, band t-shirts and oversized pullover hoodies. Super-long hair tied back in ponytail. One of the first (and only) people at school to *openly* identify as pansexual; gets asked out a lot but always declines everyone because dating “would interfere with his artistic process”. Doesn’t speak a lot in class unless the topic particularly interests him, in which case he will ramble on and on until politely stopped by the teacher. His table at lunch will always be full because others are drawn to his energy and charisma. The art room is his home away from home; on a first-name basis with the instructor.

Sasori

The smart, quiet kid. Tends to keep to himself and always appears to be in his own little world. Doesn’t ever seem to be paying attention in class, but when the teacher randomly calls on him, he has the right answer every single time. Always gets A’s but will get upset over a “low A” (in the 90-94% range). A good budgeter of time and will usually manage to get most of his homework done at lunch or during study hall. Has a (small) core group of friends and not looking to add to it anytime soon. Wears a lot of khakis and long-sleeved shirts or sweaters (even in the summer). Because of his organizational skills, technical mind, and proficiency in using tools, he excels in woodshop; often informally used by the teacher as an “assistant” to help other students with their projects. Absolutely hates gym (his small stature and delicate nature make physical exertion difficult for him); this will be the only class he doesn’t try for an A in, as he skips it as often as possible.

Itachi

Dear God, the girls ((and quite a few guys)) are crazy over this boy. Is thought of as being brooding, and mysterious ... and gut-wrenchingly handsome. Very quiet, rarely speaks in class, but when he DOES, it’s always something deep and profound. Top student grade-wise. Long dark hair and soulful eyes. Style is all black, distressed baggy pants with chains, long-sleeved band or anime shirts, boots, fishnet gloves, heavy silver bracelets and rings. Is polite to everyone but only has a handful of actual friends. Submits poems and short stories anonymously to the school paper; always gets published. Is occasionally persuaded by his teachers to volunteer as a student tutor; line will be literally out the door from people seeking his “help”. Has friends in the drama club so will go to every single school play to be supportive, even if all friend did was lighting or scenery.

Kisame

Tall and athletic; captain of the swim team. Isn’t the most handsome guy but popular because of his personality. Not really the best student, but keeps his grades up enough to be able to keep playing sports. Sweatpants, Nikes, and Letterman’s jacket. The type to step in when he sees somebody getting bullied. Has a secret love for Orchestra music and likes to sit outside the band room when it’s members have rehearsals. Friends with/friendly to absolutely everybody. Will go through more than one tray at lunch. Shines the brightest during gym class. Also a surprisingly good cook; will voluntarily take Home Economics as an elective and be one of the best bakers in the class.

Obito

Known around school as “that one guy with the mask”. Was apparently in a bad accident as a child that left the side of his face heavily scarred; adopted the practice of wearing solid-color face masks to cover damage. Teachers are made aware of his situation so no one ever tries to make him take it off; although he will do so at lunch, at a table of his close friends. Smart and articulate, everyone turns to look at him when he speaks in class. Tall and moves quickly (and silently); nobody ever knows he’s there until he’s right behind them. Dark jeans, boots and will always wear a leather jacket or trench coat, even on ridiculously hot days. Doesn’t laugh a lot but when he does, the sound of it could make anyone fall in love. A big eater of sweets; will always have some kind of candy on him that he will quietly slip beneath the mask and eat during class. When caught by teacher, will claim he had low blood sugar, and because he’s a good student otherwise he won’t be questioned further on it. The type to, at the beginning of the school year, sign up for a ton of after-school clubs, stay in them for a week, decide they’re boring, and duck out.

Zetsu

Oddball kid who sits by himself and talks to himself more than seems normal. Teachers have learned early on not to call on him in class, because he’ll just sit there and give them a silent, intent stare until they move on to someone else. Surprisingly good grades despite never talking/participating. Wears cargo shorts, T-shirts and sandals with socks, no matter the weather. Always goes outside in-between class periods; sometimes misses class altogether just to nap under a tree with his face in the sun. Eventually founds and is “captain” of the school’s gardening club; not many members but the ones that do join are very environmentally conscious, modern-day “hippies”.

Pein

Legitimately has like, 9000 piercings. There’s not an inch of this guys face that doesn’t have a shiny silver stud in it. Red and black seem to be the only colors in his wardrobe; lots of button-up shirts and zip hoodies. Has a ridiculously deep voice and is always super-intense, even when just hanging out with friends. In group projects, he’s always very quickly designated as the Leader. In his group of friends, it’s clear he’s the Leader. Not the best grades but above-average. Spends a lot of time with the blue-haired girl; it’s always rumored that they’re dating although both parties have claimed to be “just friends”. A terrifyingly persuasive arguer; joins and becomes star of the debate team within a week. The type to ask a very deep, pointed question during class and change the entire course of the teacher’s lecture.

Konan

The type to have a lot of close male friends but almost zero female ones. Tends to be the “mom” amongst her group. Excellent student, always the top marks in her class. A lot of admirers but always politely turns down potential suitors. Some piercings but nothing very extravagant. The school used to have a very strict rule about dying one’s hair “wild colors”, but she dyed hers blue and led a successful protest regarding freedom of expression. Her favorite class is literature, especially when they get to the Greek Mythology and Shakespeare units. Does origami as a hobby; when bored in class will sit and tear up bits of paper or napkins and create gorgeous little flowers. Clean and organized in every aspect EXCEPT for her locker, which is a (legendary) jumbled and unholy catastrophe.

#the akatsuki #headcanon #high school #hidan #kakuzu #deidara #sasori #itachi #kisame #obito uchiha #zetsu #pein #konan

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

⇺ ⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂ ⇻

↣ Masterpost

↣ inspired by @haik-choo’s post

↣ wc: 1.7k 

↣ warnings: some self inflicted pain (nothing major!), cheating mentions, serious heartbreak. 

↣  song recommendation:  tolerate it - taylor swift 

↣  preamble (as written by haik-choo):  akaashi keiji doesn’t get that not everyone can understand how someone feels with one look. he puts an extra sugar in his coffee and expects you to know that he wants to go out to a bakery, he clicks his red pens a few extra times and expects you to know that he needs refills – he says he has a lot of work tonight and expects you to make him midnight snacks. to him, that stuff is easy. why can’t you understand him? he does it for you – he shouldn’t have to say it out loud. you should already know what he’s thinking. if you don’t, maybe you don’t love him as much as he thought you did.

The complexity of love has never been accurately represented in the media. Films present reality through the lens of a fractured mirror to provide viewers a sense of emotion they cannot find elsewhere. Fairy tales are perhaps the worst form of media to exist. They are created to be consumed by young impressionable children who develop unrealistic expectations that are later thrust upon the unfortunate souls that become their partners. You were one of those children who bought the falsities sold to you. Love was something magical, the intertwining of two hearts.

You were sixteen when you fell in love for the first time. Enthralled by how one emotion could paint new colours in the horizons, you allowed yourself to fall… it was perfect, until you found yourself crying on the bathroom floor, wondering why the fairy tales lied to you.

You were seventeen when you first experienced heart break. Even now, you can remember the shame that drenched your soul when you learned that the one you loved, had slept with someone else. Each inch of your skin was tainted by your “prince charming.”

That night, your mother had to drag you out of the bath. The pads of your toes and fingers had shriveled up, while your arms and legs burned a bright crimson from the incessant scrubbing. Yet the tingling of your skin was merely a scratch in comparison to the laceration inside of your heart, and there was no band aid that you could apply there.

That was December 3rd 2014 – the date you abandoned your foolish ideals.

You met Akaashi Keiji exactly six months later.

If you were ever asked to describe the mystery that is Keiji, where would you begin? Were there truly any words that could accurately capture the very essence of his kind soul? Or the depth of this mesmerizing eyes? How would you possibly begin to explain how a single caress by his calloused fingertips had melted away the imaginary grime that had coated your skin? If anyone was prince charming, it was him.

But little did you know that sometimes he doubted whether you were his Cinderella. His happily ever after…

The first indication of his veiled concerns occurred in your last year of high school. With the departure of his third-year friends, Akaashi was titled captain of the boy’s volleyball team. While he enjoyed volleyball, he was never obsessed with the sport like his best friend. Volleyball was his hobby, nothing more and nothing less. He was more concerned with maintaining his high academic record than securing a ticket to nationals. Last year balancing the various fragments of his life was simple. But the absence of his friends weighed on him, each day the anxiety increased until he could barely sit without jitters swarming his limbs. As his girlfriend, you should have known the stress he was battling… Sure, he was pushing you away, but you should have known why.

Yet, when you attempted to thwart his efforts to establish distance, you were chastised for your lack of understanding.

“Y/n. I am busy. Please do not disturb me during practice.” Not the slightest bit of respect was allocated to you, despite your status as his girlfriend. And while his pointed response was undoubtedly directed towards to you, his attention was on the practice commencing inside of the gym. “Listen, I need to go back. If you want to talk, consider picking a more appropriate time in the future.” Rolling the towel within his grasp, he refused to acknowledge you beyond sharing these words.

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” To even utter an apology stole the limited resolve you had to address the situation. How much did you have to degrade yourself to fix a relationship he evidently did not want?

But the following day at lunch period, a dozen roses were delivered to you with an apology note attached to the stems. It was only natural for you to grant him the forgiveness he sought. Dismissing his actions was simple once you rationalized it as a normal reaction to an abundance of pressure. Diamonds may be created under pressure, but he was no diamond, and neither were you.

The second indication of his concealed doubts did not emerge from a set of actions, nor did it include the exchange of harsh words. Rather, it was his silence that nurtured your insecurities and provided you confirmation that while he was your happily-ever-after, you may not be his.

To celebrate Keiji’s 19th birthday, his mother had offered to host a gathering at his childhood home. When the details of the party were conveyed to you, excitement had fluttered to life inside of your stomach. It was the perfect opportunity to develop your relationship with the woman who had raised your wonderful boyfriend. Yet, not even the purest of intentions would save you from the humiliation that awaited you that night.

At one point of the evening, Keiji had vanished for a considerable amount of time. Naturally, you searched the house for your boyfriend. When you peaked inside of the kitchen, you found him engaging in a conversation with his mother. You almost called out to him instinctively, except your vocal cords denied you access when you caught the end of their conversation.  

“Has she been tending to your needs yet? Or has she remained as useless as before?” The older woman clutched the stem of her wine glass, with a scoff clawing at her throat. It seemed that the liquor coating her tongue had turned the muscular organ into a knife.

Keiji stood with his back pressed against the kitchen island, listening without a reaction. The nonchalance emanating from his demeanour indicated that this was not the first occurrence. No, this had happened before, otherwise he would have had some form of a reaction. A flinch – a twitch – anything. But he stood still, emotionless, distant. The targeting comments were equivalent to a whisper in the wind – not deserving of a response, nor a stir.

“Keiji, you are aware that you are wasting your time and yet you stay with her?” The sigh falling from her stained lips was extended to emphasize her distress, and the gentle sound was enough to weaken your knees.

No longer able to support your own weight, you leaned against the wall, allowing your eyelids to flutter shut. Your fingers tangled with the fabric of your shirt as you waited for his response.

Say something – anything. Just tell her she’s wrong.

Yet the denial never came.  

The first two indications were shoved aside, dismissed with excuses that would serve as a band-aid on your decaying relationship. But then came the third.

The third indication of his doubt occurred on an average college night when you were in the process of selecting your outfit for the night. Bokuto had arranged an unofficial Fukurodani reunion for the boy’s volleyball team. As Keiji’s girlfriend, the invite was naturally extended to you. Usually your boyfriend would be in higher spirits knowing that he would soon be in the company of his high school friends. But tonight, a frown remained etched into his features, not wavering for even a single moment.

“Which one? I don’t want to be underdressed. But on the other hand, Kou is always dressed really weird. So, I don’t know.” Two outfits were presented towards the male, a scarlet cocktail dress and a navy pantsuit with a low cut.

“Does it matter, y/n?” The sharp remark was blown out with a heavy sigh. It was as though he could not muster the energy to care for your feelings. Or perhaps, he simply chose to display his inner conflict, with no concern of the consequences of his decision.

The noise was startling enough to strip you of the excitement that once animated your movements.

“I guess not, but is it wrong that I want to look good for my boyfriend?” The counter question was voiced barely above a whisper, with each word sounding fainter than the last.

“Maybe if you knew me well enough you wouldn’t have to ask.” His eyes did not meet yours, rather they stayed fixed on the writing utensil within his grasp. “It’s not that hard, y/n. You just don’t care enough to put in the effort.”

The verbal assaults implanted daggers into your chest, but the pain would only become worse – since he was not done just yet.

“If you refuse to love me with your entire heart, what is the point? Let me go.”

“Keiji!” Pain cut along the inside of your throat from the shriek erupting from your chest. Had you ever screamed his name in quite a harsh manner? Liquid blurred your vision, and with your air-filled organs wheezing in distress, your words were stated between staggered breaths.

“I am not a fucking mind reader.” The fog of desperation encompassing you was comprised of poison, one that soon threaded throughout your system. The properties of the poison enflamed your lungs, burning the organs and halting the flow of air. Instinctively your hands were sent to your skin, clawing at the flesh as if you could simply rip out the emotions suffocating you. “Just because I don’t love you the way you think I should, doesn’t mean I don’t.” Whether the words spilling from your lips were responsible for the bitter taste in your mouth, or the tears now gracefully parading down your cheeks was unknown. Either way, the release of the steaming liquid eased the burning sensation in your lungs.

“I’m done, Keiji. I’m done.” Slowly claiming your insides was a thin layer of ice. By now, you had run out of excuses for his behaviour. There were no longer any band-aids you could use to tend to the wounds. The question of whether your boyfriend considered you “the one” was answered.

Despite the ache weaving into your muscles, your feet dragged you to the front door. A piece of you desired to catch one final glimpse of him – as your heart knew this would be the final time you would see him. But afraid you would lose your resolve to leave, you pressed the car keys against your palm, and remained fixed on the exit.

Behind you, the brunette voiced a weak apology – you were unable to catch the exact words, as they were muffled by the fabric of his sleeves. But not even the sweetest words could remedy the situation. Since, now you had accepted the truth.

Love was never a fairy-tale, and Akaashi Keiji was not a prince. Love would never be what you wanted it to be, and it would always hurt.

Love would always hurt.

A/N: I ended up finishing this today because I got into a bad mood and so I needed to channel it into something lol 

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