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tkpuke · 2 years

Text

No Crime in Relaxing

Pairing - Eddie Munson x Reader

Word count: 3,222

In which the growing distance away from your friends only caused one person to notice. To notice the color draining out your adored personality. To notice how long it’s been since you last laughed or even pulled a tiny smile. That person being your best friend, Eddie Munson.

This is a tickle fic. Please do not read if that’s not your thing.

Your conversations to your friends all slowly became the same. Discussing on their next hangout, giggling about how fun it’ll be spending time together by being dumb young teenagers, then heads turning to you to see if you’re in. Bowling, skating, and late night kickbacks. It guarantees you a blast, but you give your friends a apologetic look with a quiet ‘no, sorry.’ Each and every time.

‘No biggie’, is what they always tell you. Will they ever get past seeing it as a “no biggie”, and maybe question if you’re doing alright? You give it your best to try attending invites to parties n such, finding a way to work with your strict curfew set by your parents. You usually do, in fact, make it every time. Though these past couple of weeks you found yourself going straight home after school, alone in your room doing homework and study your ass off until night falls where you plop into bed for the next day to repeat the cycle.

The cycle you fully blame on your parents. Your parents have set expectations on you since day one. They remind you everyday, but lately their expectations has started to weigh heavy on your shoulders. The exhaustion of desperately trying to live up their dream of having the most perfect and smartest kid in Hawkins kicked in, leaving you unmotivated to keep up the good scores in tests and be the top of everything when it leaves them unsatisfied at the end. Your parents want more, thinking you can do better.

Focused so much on completing the goals they have on you which only benefits them and earn bragging rights when speaking to other parents, that they completely turned a blind eye on how it might’ve left a negative toll on you.

The one person who seemed to have an immediate problem on not having enough time for them, was Eddie Munson. Doesn’t take awhile to note he can’t live without getting unlimited attention from his close friends dear to his heart. You are nearing top three on his list who owns a special spot in his heart, which comes down to him wanting to spend as much time with you as possible.

You never complained. Eddie gave you the type of friendship everyone envied to have in a guy best friend. Sharing deep conversations at Skull Rock, inviting you over to his trailer to give you a sick mini concert in his room, to the time you snorted out your milkshake from your nose because Eddie’s jokes were gold. There was not a single dull moment you’ve had with him.

Explains the great pain you’ve gotten with the amount of times you had to decline his offers to spend quality time with you.

“Sorry, Eddie.” Is all you say, tucking some hair behind your ear as you walk down the halls, three books in your arms. You heard footsteps behind you, Eddie giving gentle pushes to people followed by ‘excuse me’s’ to try walking beside you.

“No no, I totally get it. Drive-in movies are outdated.” Eddie starts, beaming from his next suggestion as he shakes your shoulders a bit. “But playing DND isn’t.”

Dungeons and Dragons hasn’t failed in getting you to cave in whenever you swore to Eddie you were busy. Your slight obsession to the game was what brought you two close, playing together until feeling burned out. You knew Eddie probably thought he had reeled you in with this one, but from all the declines and distancing to your friends has made it easy to even refuse an activity you would agree on doing in a heartbeat.

“I can’t today.” You haven’t made eye contact with him once since the start of this conversation. The confused yet disappointed expression he’ll soon wear would bring a strong wave of guilt towards you. You can’t bear to face that, especially since you damn well know you can make time for anyone, just the determination of pleasing your parents is what’s pulling you back.

Eddie damn well knows too. Of course he does, he’s your best friend.

You halted your movements the minute Eddie got in front of you, blinking in complete surprise. “Okay, what? You’re always down in playing DND. What’s so important right now other than that?”

You scoff a little. “Heading to the library to study for Mrs. Eyerly’s next big biology test. You should try it sometime.” Adding the last part couldn’t be helped, you constantly nagged him to put more effort in his classes by joining you in study sessions. The repeated no’s irked you a bit.

Your small library trips weren’t unknown to him. The library card makes an appearance whenever you open your wallet around Eddie. Although, it isn’t a place you would call your second home.

“Bullshit. I refuse to believe someone study’s for two weeks straight and still be completely sane.”

You give off an eye-roll, sometimes forgetting how dramatic Eddie is. “Do you not see the books in my hands? I’m not bullshitting.”

You took a step to walk around him, but he quickly blocks your path a second time. “Give yourself a break, Y/N. There’s nothing wrong with doing that.”

Your eyes falls down to your shoes, avoiding his now softened gaze. “Yes there is.” You took off as soon as you replied, not looking back. You felt Eddie’s eyes watching you leave, holding back in catching up to continue the pathetic argument. Eddie knows this won’t be the last time your conversations will end like how it did. When next time rolls around, he’ll fight back.

The morning newspaper was waved at your face, Eddie pointing at a certain title through the list of movie showings tonight. “Aliens tonight, sweetheart. Me, you, and the rest of the group.”

You snagged it out from his hands, reading the timings. There was one time where it showed just before the sun will set, and you assumed that’s the timing Eddie was planning to go see. Bless him, for understanding you had no control over your early curfew but still made plans regardless because he worked along with it pretty well.

“There’s no reason to back down. You’ve been waiting on the edge of your seat for Aliens to release ever since the first one came out.” He’s right. Ever since the first movie, you’ve been obsessed with anything horror. Then you discovered the Alien comics, so you kept busy reading all of those while waiting for a continuation. A new interest of yours lead to talking Eddie’s ear off about all your own theories and fangirling. He never mind, he thought the first one was as amazing as you perceived it. If there’s one thing Eddie loved about you, is how you get into deep detailed conversations about your special interests.

“This might be a long movie. I’m not sure if I’ll be home in time for dinner.” You attempted. Not your best excuse, because when were you ever a big fan of your parents cooking? You rather stick with microwave TV dinners.

“Tell your parents after the movies you’ll have dinner at whoever’s friend’s house since they offered.” Eddie shrugged like it was no big deal, but there’s one thing that is.

“I think they’ll get a heart attack if I tell them I’m gonna watch Aliens.” You thanked your good friend, Jenna, at the time to convince your parents to let you spend the night then immediately buying two tickets to watch Alien. Some days you would do anything to go back to sweet ol’ 79, wanting to experience the film for the very first time again.

At this moment, especially considering how this past month has been for you, there’s no way your parents will buy you wanting to have a sleepover tonight at some friend’s house. They already have the mindset that since you’re a senior, you grew past all those “kiddy” stuff. Besides, you can’t even think of one lunch friend you’re close enough with to stay the night over.

“Uh, I know. Which is exactly why I’m giving you ideas on how to lie to them.” Eddie scoffs, seeing you stay in silence for a couple of seconds while kicking pebbles nearby.

He releases a sigh before speaking once more. “I don’t think you understand how not only me, but the whole group misses you.” A hand squeezes your shoulder, causing you to finally meet his eyes. “It’s okay to take a break once in awhile. Fuck your parents for telling you otherwise.”

You let out a breathy laugh, nodding your head understandably to his comforting words. Comfort, All Eddie gives you in your troubling times without hesitation. You never had to verbally ask for him to reassure your growing worries away, he just knows when it’s the right time for his help. You believe without a doubt Eddie having the ability to read his friends’ moods like an open book so fantastically is his gifted sixth sense. He’s been by your side since day one, you were too blind beforehand to realize.

A barely visible smile tugs on the corner of your lips, saying ‘thank you’ by playfully punching his shoulder in your guy’s own made up physical language.

“Well, what are we waiting for? We have a movie to catch.”

The long line to the ticket booth brought no shock for everyone. The wait gave you a chance to catch up with everyone, also apologizing profusely when Gareth purposefully made you feel guilty for all the times you missed out on the hellfire campaign nights due to your stressful study sessions. Jeff shares his gratefulness that you’re here now and that is all that matters, Eddie agreeing.

The minute you sat down, you couldn’t contain your legs from bouncing with excitement. Every single scene got you watching intently, absolutely refusing to do a bathroom break until the very end of the movie. You wouldn’t dare to miss anything. Jeff and Gareth made a few whisper comments to each other during the middle of it, causing you to shush them by giving a single glare to your right.

You gained the urge to snack, Eddie giving you his popcorn. Apparently you were supposed to share, because when you handed back the paper bag empty, he crumbled it up and flicked it to your cheek before forcing Jeff or Gareth to get up and buy some more. You had no regrets, buttery popcorn tastes amazing while you watch people getting beaten down by a bunch of horrifying aliens.

The movie eventually came to an end, all four of you walking out as everyone discussed their favorite scenes with the thrill of wanting to watch it a second time.

“Man, I’m telling you, Ripley is a total badass.” Eddie practically swooned. You wouldn’t understand why anybody would not have the hots for the main character. Having the guts to face giant creatures a second time willingly is the kind of bravery everyone is immediately attracted to.

“Newt is definitely my new favorite. She is so adorable.” You added in the topic of which character sucked and which didn’t.

“I for sure thought she was gonna die when those ugly son of a bitches took her.” Jeff said, shuddering a little in picturing himself ending up in Newt’s situation.

“What, you mean like this?” Suddenly you felt arms wrap tightly around your torso, feet high off the ground. “Eddie!” You yelped, getting spun around as he pretended to gobble on your neck with growling noises for dramatic theatrical points. Lips never touched your skin, but the close proximity along with the growling sent a ticklish chill down your spine.

Before you even had time to giggle, the playful attack ended as soon as it started. From how quick it all happened, the group all laughed due to your confused yet startled reaction afterwards.

Although, you smiled right after, because moments like these are exactly what you’ve missed so dearly.

You gave your goodbye waves to Gareth and Jeff before hopping in the car with Eddie in the driver’s seat. When arriving at the trailer, you mentioned you were a little bit hungry thanks to only filling your stomach up with popcorn.

“I can fix something up for you.” Eddie suggests but the nervous rubbing on the back of his neck tells you he doesn’t have much to serve a perfect gourmet meal. The possibility of eating ramen or Chef Boyardee ravioli didn’t matter, food is food.

“Don’t worry, I know you aren’t the world’s best chef.” You say with a bit of tease lacing your tone. Eddie lightly scoffs, crossing his arms. “It was one time I almost burnt this entire place down. One.”

You giggled, briefly going back to that memory. Eddie trying to surprise you with delicious banana bread for your birthday went south before he could even blink. Eddie learned two things that day. Baking is not his speciality, and there’s nothing wrong in going to the mall to buy a cute necklace instead, rather than going the extra mile and baking dessert as your gift.

“I miss hearing your laugh.” He says, catching you off guard. A nice shade of pink becomes visible on your cheeks, fiddling a strand of your hair whenever you’ve become too flustered to speak. You felt a little guilty as well, noticing you haven’t been the happiest usually this past month.

“Time to hear more of that.” Your thoughts became interrupted with Eddie joining you on the couch, gently tackling you down. You squeaked in complete surprise of feeling ten fingers tickling you silly on your sides.

“Noho EDDIE!” You rolled off the couch, scrambling to stand up quickly. You mentally scolded yourself for forgetting ever since Eddie discovered how ridiculously ticklish you are, he found just about every reason he could to tickle your breath away. You’re being a pain in the ass? He’ll focus on your worst spot until you’re spluttering out giggly apologies. You’re laughing when he’s in unlucky situations? He will give you something better to laugh about. Oh, you’re just minding your own business by simply existing? Too peaceful for Eddie, you’re getting a tickle attack whether you were prepared for it or not.

You kept glancing behind, making sure you would not trip on anything as you’re backing away in fear. Eddie has no problem chasing after you. You know this. Whenever you think you’ve successfully gotten away, he scares the absolute shit out of you from thin air. The speed Eddie gains when he runs is terrifying, to say the least.

“C’mon, don’t make this hard.” Eddie takes another step forward, opening his arms for a warm innocent hug. “Bring it in.”

You weren’t gonna give up so easily. You swore, actually. Although, you guessed God decided you needed this more than anything, because the minute you turned your heel to run, Eddie caught you by solely taking two big steps.

“All I asked for was a hug, but you decided to make a run from it?” The light squeezes on the lower set of your ribs instantly took you apart, burying your entire face in his chest which muffled your shrieking laughter. “My hugs can’t be that bad, can it?” Eddie asked you calmly like you weren’t slowly going limp in his arms.

“Yohou weren’t gohona hug meHEHE!” You squealed when his nimble fingers crept higher, aiming for under your arms.

A gasp escaped his lips, mocking offense. “Are you calling me a liar? I think you just did.” Hands meeting their destination, Eddie following you to the floor as your legs gave out.

He pulled your back against his chest, his arms wrapped around your torso giving his hands an easy time to skitter up and down to the top of your ribs and down to your hips, over and over again. Heels digging for purchase on the floor, hoping it’d give you a strength boost to rip away from his grasp.

He caught on. Of course Eddie caught on, because he only made the embrace tighter. “Going somewhere? Must suck to realize you can’t do anything but kick your legs endlessly.”

You grew nervous the more time Eddie spent skittering around your stomach area, dangerously going close to your hips. Targeting the hips earns a wild snort from you, then being sprinkled with hiccups in between. A priceless reaction, one Eddie loves to see. You were aware he is mere seconds from digging his two thumbs deeply on the soft spots near your hip bones.

“Eddie, plehehease. I’m smiling, okaHAY? I’m happy! No moHORE! GOHOD!” Stopping near your waist, squirming uncontrollably by anticipation. Eddie grins, one you don’t trust. The sudden latching on your hips made you jump a literal inch off the ground, grabbing onto his wrists like it would help the slightest in stopping everything.

“You’re right, and I’m so glad you are. Do you want to know what tells me you’re really happy?” You didn’t want to know, because you already know. Thumbs harshly drilling your hips nonstop for thirty seconds felt like hours on your poor end. Needless to say, you snorted. Loud. The hiccuping came shortly after, cuing Eddie to pull his hands back.

“Aaaand stopping.” Eddie beams in delight, being nice enough to rub away the leftover ticklish sensations for you. That is until he pinched your thigh to catch you off guard, rewarded with a shocked squeak. “Or am I?”

“You’ll be wanted for murder, because I’ll seriously die.” You over-exaggerate, showing Eddie a thankful look for finally leaving your ticklish spots alone and helping you up. ”I guess my work here is done.” Eddie says while dusting his hands together.

“Thank you, Eddie.” For not just getting you to loosen up. Not for having to fight for you to open your eyes and realize how the distance towards the people you love has taken a toll on your everyday lovable personality. Not for breaking the unhealthy cycle you forced yourself on, stressing weekly on being the top of all your classes purely for your parents pride in you.

For being right there, by your side, since day one. You never saw hesitation flicker across Eddie’s face whenever he had to step in to cheer you up. Eddie got his priorities straight, and that’s checking daily you’re comfortable and in a good mood before he can be.

He nodded a ‘you’re welcome’, his dimple smile revealing itself. “Now,” Eddie fetched two cans of Chef Boyardee spaghetti and meatballs, also setting two bowls on the small kitchen table. “Let’s feast, shall we?”

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lorddarkkitty · 16 days

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Leaving off from volume 2 the girls are at the top of the river after saving someone and these knights come and apprehends them. Saying that one of them for formed very dangerous magic that change the landscape. And about to erase their memory.

So Richeh flys into this knights arm and Tetia destroys the thing that keeping Agott and Coco tied up.

Tetia express that it isn’t right for them to not listen to what Coco and Agott have to say and Richeh express she hates adults that treat children like things instead of humans. And I’m absolutely living for it cause she is so right. They are human and should be treated as such. Quifrey also shows up behind the knight who name is Easthies and I hate him. Cause he comes off, how do I say super strict? but that doesn’t fit. But he was gonna act first ask questions later type. Like he talks about justice but was about to erase the mind of two INNOCENT GIRLS. And he insults master Quifrey. Any way the other adult that was with Quifrey (I might have to make a list of their names for reference cause I can’t remember atm lol) so the other dude like “uhh hey are y’all gonna stand around and argue or are y’all gonna help cause that’s the whole point of being a witch is to bring blessings to ppl without magic” basically that’s not a quote of what he actually said. So after the ppl been tended to Easthies questions Coco. Using ink and draws the sigil she used to turn the stone to sand. Basic. So Easthies examines Coco’s hands cause the “brimmed caps” would put sigil on their bodies for power ups. WHY WOULD COCO DO THIS IDK. I doubt she even knew you could put sigils on the body. But he finds nothing but an apprentice learning how to draw spells. And they leave. Good get gone Easthies you asshat of a witch. I don’t like him.

After that Quifrey tells the girls that they shouldn’t have used magic so dangerously close to non witches cause it could expose them and then they would have to erase peoples mind which is very delicate so they don’t want to do that. But also expressed that Agott should take the second test. He a good teacher … still have my suspicions tho lol.

It changed to Easthies and the knights flying through the air showing the destruction Coco spell has done and expressing that there will be a proper investigation cause he doesn’t trust that Coco didn’t do it even tho she 10 and just learning and that her spell shouldn’t be that strong. So some confusion there lol.

Then it goes back to Quifrey and the apprentices along with the other dude I don’t know his name, Oleruggio is it lol. They make a brigade of sand but before they leave Quifrey picks up Cocos hat and her ink bottle falls out. So he giving her a light scolding cause non witches can’t see that. And Coco expresses that she been using it but it still has fall as ever and Quifrey seems to figure out why Coco spell was so strong. We find out that t that the brimmed cap that gave coco the spell book, switched out her ink with blood. Which is gross and unsanitary and that’s how you get hepatitis C. I really want to know their plans for Coco cause what are u up to???

Anyway Qifrey has to take Coco back to Kalhn "b/c he forgot to buy cod a wand" when really he going to talk to nolnoa about the ink. Tartah brings Coco to this room filled with different powders all in a specific order (Cause we learn he has something called Silverfish Syndrome) Coco was getting excited about everything but then a big flash of light happens and lots of the shelves and jars get knocked down and over. the labels fell off so his grandfather is going to have to fix it. Sucks that this isn't a way to help ppl with this type of color blind condition. Qifrey also did something that he even says it shouldn't be done but erasing someone's mind. shame! shame! He looking for something idk what his goals are but that one eye hat witch find out and kinda takes back the ink.

Gonna fast-forward cause they learning and stuff at some point Coco gets a fever and collapses and needed to head to the hospital where Tartah happened to run into them. he had to return there cause he forgot his hat so he couldn't get on a boat to get home. a fire broke out somewhere and of course Qifrey and others witches help out. Tartah hat was in the room Coco's in. He tried finding someone to help but couldn't find anyone and he wants to help coco but there aren't any labels cause he knows what he can give her. as he goes to give her water he gets a jimmy neutron brain blast with the water holder? thingy?. he separates solids and liquids and is looking for the one the turns into a powder and he got down to three. and he starts to get upset and about to give up. My favorite part is that Coco tells him that That is what magic is for. "To turns things you can't do into things you can do!" Coco tries to draw a spell to help him but she obviously sick and gets embarrassed. However, the spell is good just needs some fine tuning basically. which Tartah suggests putting some symbols in certain places and he draw the sigil allowing him to see the original form of the powders helping him identify the herb he needed. only for a nurse to come see what he was doing in the room filled with medicines wondering why he was there. but that tranquileaf I think it was called was correct. I loved that Coco did her sickly best to help Tartah. Cause really what's the point if you can't make someone's life easy.

Also we see another character be introduced that is an embodiment of forbidden magic ....and it cause a cap and a hat ...with not visible person there..A GHOST LOL

#amari meows #mar manga #witch hat atelier #volume 3 #witch hat atelier spoilers #WHA #manga

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hollowfaith · 4 months

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[FASHION] fet--cosplay outfit of some sort for SP*T

𝑃𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑐 𝐼𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑐𝑦 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑠 || [FASHION] Sender brings over an outfit for receiver to try on

—

2:47PM, Sanctus Clinic top floor, private study.

"This is terrible...I think I'm dying..."

"As far as I can tell, you're still in perfect health."

"No, I mean my heart! From the constant rejections and putdowns..."

"It can't be very dire if you still have enough energy to monologue."

Eiden stopped his Victorian fainting act on the couch and sat up with a sigh. "Man, I guess fishing for sympathy really doesn't work on you."

"I've never had much sympathy for you." Aurelius admitted openly from behind his desk, eyes buried in a psychology textbook. "If you're done complaining, you can leave early today."

"Huh? Didn't you ask me to come every week for an hour?"

"I'm beginning to think I was over-generous in estimating the value of our sessions." The blond peeked at him over the top of his book. "There's no helping the patient who refuses to help himself."

"Aren't you supposed to work with me as my counselor?" Eiden shot to his feet, grabbing the parcel he'd left on the coffee table and stalking his way to the desk. "I'm doing this as a favor to you too, you know. I still have a store to run!"

He placed the bag brightly emblazoned with SP*T's logo on the angel's desk and looked at him expectantly. "Since you're taking me away from my customers, at least help me test out some merchandise."

Two seconds later and Eiden was ducking below the table as Aurelius sent a flurry of writing utensils flying through the air at his face.

"I don't mean that kind of merchandise! It's clothes, just clothes!"

"Get out."

The cold tone sent a shiver down Eiden's back, but he still wanted to give it one last shot. He'd gone too far to back down so easily, dammit!

"That's harsh..." Peeking over the table, he saw that the surface was clear of potential projectiles. This guy still couldn't levitate anything bigger than a baseball, so the book couldn't fly at him on its own. If Aurelius decided to throw it at him, he'd at least see his arm moving first as a warning. "Are you really going to chase me out like that? What kind of mental health clinic leaves their patient more miserable after he leaves?!"

But Aureliusf was unmoved. "Success rates for therapy vary between patients. I've already marked you down as a hopeless case, so your disappointment is well within my expectations."

"Eh?!" Isn't that discrimination?!

"If you have nothing else to add, please leave."

"Well, fine but...Klaus is going to be disappointed." And as Eiden turned towards the door, he mentally counted down in his head.

Three, two—

"Why would he be?"

Oh hey, the blond bastard's a second early this time. Not one to waste his chance, Eiden put on his best kicked-puppy face and whirled back to face him. "Because I was telling him how you were helping me, but you're not even trying today!"

It was more empty complaints, but Aurelius actually stopped to take him seriously. His one blind spot is seriously... Eiden ducked his head to hide the growing grin on his face, putting on a pathetic air at the same time.

"I even took the time to pick this out for you...it's in your size and everything, and I made sure it didn't show any skin since someone's so uptigh—cough, I mean, conservative."

"The word you're looking for is dignified."

"Pff—cough, cough, right."

There's a long, stiff silence in which Eiden's eyes trace patterns on the carpet while Aurelius engages in a silent debate in his head. Finally, the human hears the words he'd been waiting for, dragged out from the depths of the abyss like a long-suffering sigh:

"Let me see it."

Eiden's eyes are sparkling when he looks back up. "Sure!"

—

The two of them stood over the freshly cleared table as Eiden eagerly unpacked the set. It was black, Aurelius noted—a color he rarely wore, but would look good on him nonetheless. The quality of the fabric was well below his usual standards, but then Eiden had explained that this was all for "cosplay" purposes and comfortable gatherings with loved ones—whatever that meant. He picked up what looked like outerwear and studied its precisely cut collar in puzzlement.

"Is this military garb?"

"Ehhh...sort of. It's a police uniform? Wait, do you guys even have police in your world?"

"They're redundant when we barely have crime."

"Oh, wow...but anyways, check this out! It even comes with a badge and a hat."

"And this?" Aurelius held up what appeared to be a stick with a floppy paddle attached to its end.

"Uh, that's a riding crop. You know, for...disciplining purposes."

"I see you didn't bother to bring a horse."

"Cough. It's not for use on horses."

Silence. Then—

Slap!

"Oww! What'd you whip me for?!"

"I sensed you needed discipline."

"Sheesh, if you're that eager at least give me warning fir—aurgh! OW! Okay okay, I'll stop, I'm sorry, owWWwwWw!"

Aurelius finally set the crop aside. "Is your only request for me to wear this?"

Eiden bit back a laugh as he winced. "Well, yeah." I can't really ask for anything more if I want to stay in one piece.

"How childish." Aurelius scoffed, but gathered up the pieces and headed for his private bathroom. "Wait here."

Eiden spent the next stretch of time agonizing over the best way to trick Aurelius into adopting some poses, or at least stand still enough for him to snap a picture, or maybe even squeeze in a selfie with him because damn if the guy looked good even if he was a massive prick—

The bathroom door creaked open, and Eiden caught his breath, equally eager but anxious to see the results.

Aurelius stepped out in police uniform with a faint furrow between his brows. Everything was in order: shirt tucked in, collars straightened, each button buttoned to the very top. A peaked police cap sat neatly over the center of his forehead, but he was frowning as he tugged at his hands.

"The gloves are highly impractical," he complained faintly at the leather that refused to go any lower than the middle of his palm. "Did they run out of material making these?"

When Eiden didn't reply, Aurelius looked up to see the man staring blankly at him, his expression utterly idiotic. Annoyed, the angel walked up to him and snapped his fingers.

"I asked you a question. Are you not going to answer?"

Gulp. Swallowing thickly, Eiden managed to ask, "...can you do that again?"

"What?"

"That line you just said, except—oh hold on, I forgot something." Scrambling around his jacket pockets, Eiden finally remembered his special prop and brought it out with a flourish. "Take these!"

Aurelius regarded the handcuffs suspiciously. "This isn't part of the outfit."

"No, but it fits! What kind of police officer doesn't carry cuffs around, right? Just loop them around your belt—wait, you're not wearing one."

"These pants fit well enough without," the angel was beginning to get exasperated. "Have you seen enough? I'm going to change back."

"No, wait!" Eiden hastily dug his phone out next. "At least a photo—"

"No."

"Not even for Klaus?"

"He's never requested me to wear such things."

"That's only because he doesn't know how good you look in them!" Eiden said eagerly. "Here, I'll snap one and send it to him—"

He tried to open the camera app with one hand; just as deftly, Aurelius swiped his handcuffs and slapped one end around Eiden's wrist. The human blinked in surprise before he flushed.

"Huh. Didn't expect you to start roleplayi—."

"Enough." Dragging the man after him, Aurelius found a handy doorknob and locked the other half of the cuffs around it, effectively leashing Eiden in place. It was child's play after that to pry the cell phone out of the man's fingers and toss it out of reach on the sofa in the study.

"Huh, what gives—?!"

"You're quite right that I hadn't considered Klaus' thoughts on the matter," Aurelius said calmly while waving at his own phone, which dutifully levitated off the bookshelves and into the air as it floated to his side.

"Thank you. I'll be sure to give him the full visual experience."

And before Eiden's flabbergasted eyes, he left the office for the connecting room to...have a solo selfie session. Eiden tried to follow him—but the handcuffs held firm and the door was locked, trapping him in place. He dug in his pockets for the keys, only to remember he'd left them at the shop that day for fear of losing them in transit. Short of ripping the door off its hinges or turning Houdini in the next five minutes, he was stuck.

This...

"Hey, this isn't fair!"

Predictably, his complaints fell on deaf ears.

#kleinstar #𝔔𝔲𝔢𝔯𝔶 ࿐ answered #𝔉𝔞𝔟𝔩𝔢𝔰 ࿐ drabbles #he needs to stop getting away with this but also #you reap what you sow

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ascendingtostardust · 1 year

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happy wagner wednesday!!! here to celebrate with some best friend danny

so i imagine he’d notice you’re acting different, he can read you like a book, and he knows when you’re hiding something

and he is determined to get it out of you

and you know danny knows you, but maybe not as well as he thinks

so he’s like a whirlwind through the door, dropping himself on your couch when he announces

“i’ve got it.”

“i don’t want to know about anything you may have contracted whilst you were on this tour, daniel.”

“so very funny. there’s a guy.”

“is it sam? you know we’ve been secretly rooting for you two for years.”

“you’re really not taking me serious today, are you?”

he turns his whole body to face you, and the look in his eye amplifies the seriousness of the situation

“okay, okay. there’s a guy? for you, or for me?”

“you, dummy. that’s why you’ve been acting different. you have a crush.”

“astute observations, daniel.”

“i’m right? actually, i know i’m right, i know you better than yourself.”

you study his face and try to work out just exactly how much he knows, but his further questions confirm that he’s very much in the dark

“so who is he?”

“you don’t think i’m gonna tell you that easily.”

“fine. is he tall?”

you study his stature sat on your couch, the way his arm stretches over the back towards you and makes his frame look so inviting

the way his legs stretch out towards your coffee table and his foot rests gently on top of it, which usually you’d bat away since his shoes were still on but you wouldn’t want to draw attention it

“yes.”

“at least that rules out the kiszka’s. hair color?”

“dark. and dark eyes.”

“hm. very you.”

you almost huff out a scoff. for someone who thinks he knows you so well, he’s never been so blind in his entire life

“is he nice?”

“you think i’d have a crush on someone who wasn’t nice?”

“maybe. is he?”

“he’s very nice.”

“sometimes nice is boring.”

you grin at the edge to his voice.

“not this guy. he has a way of making you feel safe when you’re with him. comfortable. oh, and he’s unbelievably sexy.”

“so he’s attractive?”

“oh yeah. hot. so very hot.”

“anyway. does he have any hobbies?”

you almost laugh at the way he switches the subject so quickly

“actually, he’s a musician.”

“do i know him?”

you swallow nervously. surely this will hit it home?

“oh, very well.”

“this guy in a band?”

“mhmm. with his brothers.”

there’s a moment of silence and you think everything has fallen into place

until his face drops for just a flash and you realise he really hasn’t understood

“i thought we ruled out the kiszka’s?”

“that we did.”

your eyes are flickering between your hands and his eyes now, unable to hold his gaze for too long before it feels so intense

“what, uh. what does he play?”

danny’s nerves are written across his face, dancing along the line of being sure what you mean and fearing he’s misunderstood entirely

but haven’t you already spelled it out for him?

you shuffle your body closer to his, and your hand would be shaking if you weren’t urging any last shred of confidence you had in your body to do it’s job

brushing a curl from his face so he looks right at you,

“he’s a drummer.”

he visibly swallows, and the beat of silence which followed your admission swallowed you whole

“please say something.”

your eyes are still holding his gaze but there’s a faint burning in your chest, the creep of impending doom that you just ruined a perfectly good friendship

but he doesn’t say anything

he wraps a hand around your jaw and then touches his lips to yours, testing the waters it’s so barely there

“i really hope i didn’t read this whole thing wrong.”

“please, danny. could i have made it more obvious? it’s always been you.”

Thank you for this, I’m now in PAIN and I was going to add to it but it’s just so perfect as is. I want to see Danny’s little cheeks getting more and more pink as realization starts to hit him, his eyes getting wider as he refuses to make eye contact until he fully understands what you’re saying 😩

#whoever you are I love you and I’m obsessed with this #danny wagner #k answers

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hurerogope · 2 years

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Daltonismo pdf

DALTONISMO PDF >>Download (Telecharger) vk.cc/c7jKeU

DALTONISMO PDF >> Lire en ligne bit.do/fSmfG

CATARATA E DALTONISMO.pdf. Oct. 04, 2022. • 0 likes • 3 views. [PDF] TEST DALTONISMO ISHIHARA - Libro da 38 tavole ISHIHARA. TEST CHROMATIQUE D'ISHIHARA - Livre de 38 planches. TEST DALTONISMO ISHIHARA - Libro de 38 D'autres Épingles similaires · Проверь себя на дальтонизм · Color Blindness test - Real ! · The Ishihara Color Blindness Test · TEST DALTONISMO · Mira el mundo con ADULT CHART FOR COLOR BLINDNESS TESTING. CARTE POUR ADULTES POUR LE TEST DE DALTONISME. CARTA PARA ADULTOS PARA LA PRUEBA DE DALTONISMO. TABELLA PER ADULTI PER IL TEST DEL DALTONISMO CARTE POUR ADULTES POUR LE TEST DE DALTONISME papier soit perpendiculaire à la ligne de vision. M FR. Outils TEST DALTONISMO ISHIHARA - Libro de 10 tablas para analfabetos. ATTENZIONE: Gli operatori devono leggere e capire completamente questo manuale.TEST DALTONISMO ISHIHARA - Libro da 24 tavole. ISHIHARA COLOUR TEST - Book of 24 plates. TEST CHROMATIQUE D'ISHIHARA - Livre de 24 planches. TEST DALTONISMO ISHIHARA - Libro da 38 tavole. ISHIHARA COLOUR TEST - Book of 38 plates. TEST CHROMATIQUE D'ISHIHARA - Livre de 38 planches.

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covetonki · 2 years

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Payload extractor design pattern

Jung, K.-H.: Data hiding of digital images based on bit position and parity bit. Zhou, Y.: Binary-block embedding for reversible data hiding in encrypted images. Yoo, K.-Y.: Data hiding method in binary images based on block masking for key authentication. Since the computational cost of both data hiding and blind extraction is very low, the proposed technique is very suitable for real-time applications as a steganography. Under the condition that the content of the image is not obviously changed, the proposed technique achieves higher hiding capacity than the state-of-the-art homogeneous techniques. In this paper, we construct coding tables for data hiding and extraction based on HVS in suitable blocks of binary images. Due to these reasons, research work on information hiding in binary image is fewer. However, because of the particularity of binary image, the algorithm and system of information hiding in binary image are quite different from that in gray image and color image, and information hiding in binary image is far more challenging. Hiding data in these binary images either for side information delivery or as annotation of the content has great application needs. Besides, cartoons and sketches in art design are often in the form of black-and-white image. With the application of digital technology, a lot of important information, such as personal records, medical records, certificates, handwritten signatures, design drawings, and collection of books, has been scanned into digital documents and stored as binary images. Our unit test could fail as a result of the data array not being empty while we’re in the fetching state.Binary image, typically black and white, has the advantages of simple storage and compact structure.Well, I did state that setting the data before setting the fetched status was a good idea, but there are two potential problems we could have with that, too: Here, our cache is now in our useFetch hook with an empty object as an initial value. Let’s replace our cache implementation with some useRef magic!Ĭache.current = data // set response in cache With useRef, we can set and retrieve mutable values at ease and its value persists throughout the component’s lifecycle. Memoizing Data With useRef “ useRef is like a box that can hold a mutable value in its. We’ll explore useRef to help us in achieving that. Besides, we also want to make sure that React helps in cleaning up our mess when we no longer want to make use of the component. We can’t do it before the useEffect hook as that will go against one of the rules of hooks, which is to always call hooks at the top level.ĭeclaring cache in a different scope works but it makes our hook go against the principle of a pure function. We’ll also notice that we’re killing off the effect if the URL is falsy, so it makes sure we don’t proceed to fetch data that doesn’t exist. This ensures we do not make an API call when we have the data available to us locally. So, if we make a request to fetch some existing data, we set the data from our local cache, else, we go ahead to make the request and set the result in the cache. While this tutorial will cover the Hacker News Search API, we’ll have the hook work in a way that it will return response from any valid API link we pass to it.ĬomponentDidUpdate(previousProps, previousState) Ĭonst = useState('idle') Ĭache = data // set response in cache Throughout this article, we’ll be making use of Hacker News Search API to build a custom hook which we can use to fetch data. To ensure you’re following along, there is also an article written by Adeneye David Abiodun that covers best practices with React Hooks which I’m sure will prove to be useful to you. After that, I’d recommend reading Shedrack Akintayo’s “ Getting Started With React Hooks API”. If you are a newbie to React Hooks, you can start by checking the official documentation to get a grasp of it. It’s already possible to do that using the componentDidMount() lifecycle method, but with the introduction of Hooks, you can build a custom hook that will fetch and cache the data for you. There is a high possibility that a lot of components in your React application will have to make calls to an API to retrieve data that will be displayed to your users.

#Payload extractor design pattern

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new-arcade · 2 years

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After playing a few games at Barcade, I realized that I went in blind for every game, relied heavily on intuition and rarely read the rules to understand how a game is played or how the controls work. That ended up being a really fun approach to test the game mechanics.

I think that arcade games need to be quick and easy to understand with minimum rules and straightforward goals and controls since they last a short duration anyway. It doesn’t make sense to have a long rule book for a minute or two long game.

Seeing the two steering wheels for the Fire Truck game, it was obvious that it could be played by two players. Since I played only the two player version, I’m not sure which steering wheel would an individual player have to use. While it seems more logical that a single player would use the controls on top, what they would miss is that the player who sits at the bottom also has a pedal to accelerate the fire truck.

The game play is simple - the players are in a fire truck that they need to control. The lower steering controls the front part while the top one controls the rear of the truck. The players need to navigate through sharp turns as their fuel is running out and ensure they don’t crash into the sides or any other obstacles on the road. The player in front also has to control the speed. The players can collect fuel along the way to keep playing and the speed of the game progressively increases.

I tried playing on both the wheels but it was particularly difficult for to play as the front player. This was because the acceleration pedal did not seem sensitive enough and I would have to really push down hard to get the truck moving at all. The pressure on the pedal and the speed of the truck were not seamless enough for me to adjust the way I play.

The steering wheels were easy to use but it took a round or two to get adjusted to their sensitivity. At times they would turn a lot faster than the truck would change the direction. But once we got the hang of it, by the second round we made much progress in the game.

Visually, the game did not have too many colors. A fuel and score were the only two indicators, except when there would be a crash and it would show *crash* on the display. There was not a very significant distinction between what was an obstacle on the road and what needed to be collected as a way to gain score.

It was fascinating that this game could engage players so easily and maintain the excitement throughout the play while still being very simple in its general appearance. The Barcade visit was a very successful one in gaining insights on how different physical controls contribute to the experiences. It was also just EXTREMELY FUN!

-Rama Deshpande

Source: https://barcadejerseycity.com/games/

#fall2022homework #HW1 #submission

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guitarcharlie · 2 years

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In Other Words: The Truth About Why I Became a Teacher

School has started and it’s the topic of lots of conversations. I was recently asked why I became a teacher. Well, I never revealed the true reason - until now.

Because I almost failed kindergarten I become a teacher. Now those seem unlikely dots to connect but they do.

We were learning colors. The teacher placed a series of color posters over the top of the chalk board. The teacher went around the room asking her pupils what the color was. She pointed? I shrugged my shoulders. She pointed to the next one. I shrugged again. She pointed to a third poster. I shrugged again.

The teacher called home and told my mother what happened. And that’s when my life took a turn. I did not know the names of colors because no one taught me. Se we sat at the kitchen table, me almost in tears as mom drilled me on colors. And she was not very kind about it either. She couldn’t believe that I didn’t know colors. As her frustration increased, my fear of failure increased, and I cried. I was 5. Yeah, my education career was off to a good start.

I didn’t know it then and it took a long time for me to realize what had happened. Mom had never taught me those colors and she really didn’t actively teach us anything. She just expected that kids would know things. She was not a good teacher. I could never rely upon her for help with homework.

Lots of things are like that. We have an expectation that people know certain things. If they don’t know we may express surprise, anger, or frustration. It happens, albeit not often, that we take the time to instruct.

Somehow I passed kindergarten. I still don’t know why or how. I remember the color blindness test that I took sometime later - and, yes, I am a bit color blind, but it wouldn’t be enough to keep me out of, say, the military or get in the way at a paint store. I mean I liked the pretzel rods, milk, and nap time of kindergarten, but I also remember that I was not eager to return to school.

I am also left handed so it was not easy to learn to write. Teachers tried to make me right-handed. It didn’t feel natural. So I had to figure out how to hold the pencil and make the motions - without smearing the page. I was never quite successful in that realm. I now call it hand-lefting because it is not easy to decipher. But that joke masks a sad truth.

I remember when words started to make sense and that I could finally decode printed words. I felt powerful like my comic book hero, Superman. I read everything. I finally felt like I was in charge of my learning.

I wanted to know - not just facts but techniques. I didn’t want to know the what but I also wanted to know the why and how. My teachers were often overwhelmed with work and didn’t have time to take a shy kid aside to help. So I had to figure out how to teach myself.

For instance - tying shoes. I had to figure it out. I was not taught. I made two loops, crossed them, ran one under the other and pulled. Except that wasn’t the way other kids did it. I studied how they did it, reversed the image, and practiced and practiced and practiced. Eventually I figured it out. but no one taught me.

Here’s my point. My teachers taught material - not skills. They expected us to show up at school with the skills. So what if a parent is not equipped to teach their child those skills like the times tables or the state capitals or phonics or colors or how to study or even how to read? A child would be left behind.

I was determined to never let that happen to another child. So I became a teacher.

One day a student stopped at my desk after class one day and wanted to know how he could do better on quizzes. I asked how he studied and his story sounded familiar. I showed him a few techniques. He aced the next quiz and every one after that.

Some years later he knocked on my door. There he stood with his oldest son. I welcomed him in and after catching up, he revealed that he was now a lieutenant in the armed forces and that he used my study techniques for each rank test. Then he presented me his medallion that he was given at the ceremony.

Why, I asked? Because I showed him how to teach himself. After he left, I cried. I finally felt successful, but I wish I could have shown him those techniques when he was much younger. He is an officer now and is a success. And his children are successful.

Content is important, but skills are more important. I know what a pancake is but it's more important to know how to make one.

I wish someone would have noticed. I wish that someone would have taken time to help. I wish I had the wherewithal to know that I didn’t know. I was not a terribly self-aware child. Instead, I figured it out on my own - as I still do most things. I wish I could have said something without fear of some sort of reprisal or ridicule, but that was my world then.

All it takes is one person to help unlock the potential within another. All it takes is one person to help you learn a skill. All it takes is one person to offer an opportunity to learn. All it takes is one person.

Be that one person.

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h2bakugou · 3 years

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summary: bakugou despises you, more than he does anyone else. you’re strong, and you don’t take shit from anyone. so when bakugou confronts you, it’s more than just a heated argument that ensues.

you can read the original piece here!

all characters aged 18+ au!!

a/n: a rewrite of a classic, one of the first ever fics written here on h2bakugou, hope you loves enjoy this!

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, smut

word count: 2.7k

nsfw under the cut!!!

»»————-　★　————-««

Being discouraged was never an option. Your goal to be a hero had been driven by your perseverance. Your classmates chose the words ‘driven’ and ‘passionate’ to describe you in your first year year-book.

Growing up, you’d been influenced by the words of others, and you vowed to not let them discourage you any longer. You wanted to be a hero, so you’d use their criticism and challenges to better yourself.

Yet, now as a third year, you were still facing challenges. One blonde, explosive, challenge named Katsuki Bakugou that had despised you the day you bucked up to him.

He hated you. Truthfully, he didn’t understand why. You were just so, aggravating. Though in reality, he saw a bit of himself in you. That fire that raged inside driving you further, he knew what that was like.

You weren’t afraid of him. You tested him every day. From ranking higher than him in tests, to beating his ass in training, god you were wiping the floor with him since you were a measly little first year still trying to learn everyone’s names.

On your side of the spectrum, you had to give credit where credit was due. Katsuki was an extremely talented, and attractive individual. He excelled in his classes, got outstanding grades, and had immense power.

But those things didn’t make up for his atrocious attitude, cocky and arrogant demeanor, and brash exterior.

You were closed off, and had boundaries-something Bakugou didn’t understand. Why you were so closed off was a mystery, something Bakugou wanted to desperately understand. A part of him was curious to see what was hiding behind your own brash exterior.

He watched the way you bit the inside of your cheek when he called you out during a slip up in training.

But what made him far more angrier than when you ignored him, was when you got along with Todoroki.

You always seemed to be smiling around the guy, asking how he’d been over the weekend, despite living in dorms together.

Brushing up on him, rustling his hair, it made his blood boil. What did you see in him?

Today was dragging along like any other, your class stood fixed in the gym, working on some new training regiment put together by your third year Heroics teacher.

It was something similar to the ones you’d done hundreds of times by now, but you’d slipped up, a few times. You were tired, you’d barely gotten any sleep last night because classes finished late and left you to do your homework and shower on top of other things you had to do which landed you in bed at almost three or four in the morning.

So your slip up was something small, but Bakugou noticed. And he was about to make it known.

“You’re slacking today! A slip-up like that coulda getcha’ killed, maybe you should practice some more.” Bakugou chastised, smirking at you. As the buzzing fluorescent lights gleamed over your eyes, he could see so much more than anger bubbling inside them.

He now noticed the heavy undereye bags, and the way your eyes seemed to water. But as he stared into your eyes, he realized this was the first time this week you’d actually looking him in the eye when he said something to you.

You weren’t perfect, you still had moments of doubt, late at night when you thought about what might happen if they were right. What if you weren’t meant to be a hero?

Shaking it out of your head, you didn’t say anything. You focused back on your training, but it didn’t go unnoticed by Todoroki. He shot Bakugou a glare which only caused him to grumble and speak again.

“Get your head outta’ your ass, I’m not pining after your little girlfriend. She’s clearly been putting her mind elsewhere if she’s this fuckin’ terrible today.”

Despite initiating the joke, hearing himself call you Todoroki’s girlfriend made him seethe with anger. He was furious. Why’d he say that?

“Shut up.” Todoroki replied cooly, following you out of the gym to the locker rooms.

You just laughed to yourself before you got water. Todoroki let out a stressed sigh as he stared at you.

“He’s being extra rude today.” Todoroki mentioned.

“Maybe he’s just horny.” You grimaced thinking about Bakugou and the words ‘being horny.’

“How would that tie into his anger toward you?”

“Sexual. Frustration.”

Bakugou couldn't take much more of you ignoring him. Why were you so dead-set on making him seem invisible? You barely bit back at him when he called you out, and he knew you could say whatever you wanted, you’d done it to others who tried you. So what made him any different?

This was just one of those occurrences, and as he ran them through his head, every time he checked, there was always some case of you ignoring him when all he wanted was a stupid fucking acknowledgement from you. He was going to talk to you.

And he was going to do it now.

You’d finally left the gym, taken a shower, and you were now steadily approaching your dorm. You were tired, and ready to speed through any homework you might have so you could head to bed early.

But a pair of strong hands forced your shoulders into the wall.

“What’s your fuckin’ deal?” Bakugou growled at you. You just stared at him.

“What?” You answered softly, unsure of what he was accusing you of.

“You think you’re so much better than me, than everyone else huh? Walkin’ around like you fuckin’ own the place? What makes you that fucking good!?” Bakugou spat at you.

His fingers dug into your shoulder blades as he urged you to answer his question. You shoved him off of you and managed to escape his attempts at grabbing your wrists.

“I don’t. You fucking act like you own the place, like being powerful is all it takes to be number one. You might wanna take your head outta’ your ass before your hair turns brown.” You marched off to your room, fed up with Katsuki’s behavior.

“Oh yeah!? Then why do you act like such a fuckin’ ass to me!?” Bakugou shouts, running after you.

“Because you treat me like shit! You call me weak when I slip up, you’re always on my fucking case. You think I really wanna be your friend?” You stop and stare at him.

“Or maybe it’s just because you’re a stubborn asshole that’s too blinded by his idea of being number one that he’s so fucking distracted by his arrogance to see that he’s really just a douche.”

Your back hit your dorm door. Bakugou towered over you as his shadow cast down upon you.

“You need to watch your fucking mouth.”

“Or maybe you need an attitude adjustment. Everyone’s grown so much but you still seem to think you’re hot shit, huh?” You reach for your doorknob, going to twist it, but you were to slow.

“I said...” Bakugou’s eyes bore into you.

“You need to watch your fucking mouth.” Bakugou opened your door, watching as you fell back, no longer supported by the wood of your door.

“Make me.” You grunted, catching yourself from falling onto the floor.

Bakugou’s eye twitched as he followed you into your room, closing and locking the door behind himself.

“Hey, what the fuck are you-”

“You’re such a bitch, just shut up already.” Bakugou groaned, yanking you further back into your room.

It all was beginning to make sense. Bakugou wanted to-

“This isn’t going to change how I think of you.” You blurted out, knowing exactly what the blonde wanted. He stared at you with a smirk.

“Put that pretty mouth to something useful unlike talking.” Bakugou began to undo his pants, allowing them to pool around his ankles.

“You really want me to suck your cock? I don’t know, what if I bite?” You grin, watching as he angered above you.

“What the fuck did I just say?” A handful of your hair was yanked in his fist, tilting your head back.

“A-alright.” You replied. Your cunt throbbed, forcing you to squeeze your thighs together. Why were you so turned on? You didn’t exactly like Bakugou, but he was attractive. You’d give him that, but his looks didn’t make up for his horrendous attitude.

His cock stared at you, hard, tip leaking precum. You graced a single hand over the base, jerking him slowly as you leaned your head toward it. You placed a teasing kiss to the head, smearing his precum around your lips like a lipgloss.

Allowing just the head to slide into your mouth, you stared up at him, watching him fumble with his hands.

“First time?” You pulled off to tease him which resulted in his cock slamming past your lips and hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes shot open wide as your throat burned, his cock rutting down inside your mouth.

It hurt, but it felt good at the same time.

“You really are a slut, huh. Bet you let guys use this little throat like it’s nothing.” Bakugou spat at you. You wished you could’ve said something back to him, but his cock ramming down your throat was sadly stopping you.

You could hear his whines as he grew close to cumming, but he didn’t want to waste his spend inside your mouth, so he pulled out, hissing as you licked his sensitive cock head a few times as he left your lips.

“I wanna taste you.” You murmured, reaching your hand back up to his cock, ushering him to cum in your mouth.

“H-hey!” Bakugou grunted as your mouth reconnected to his cock. It was too late for him, you were blowing him like no one had ever blown him before. And he was busting in your mouth seconds later.

Swallowing his cum and opening your mouth to show him afterward, Bakugou shook his head.

“Nasty whore.” Bakugou replied, forcing you up and onto the bed, landing on your tummy.

“Had you just asked, I would’ve laid down.” Your shirt was torn off mercilessly by Bakugou, his desperate hands trying to free your tits. Afterward came your sheer tights, followed by your panties. They pooled around your ankles as he left your skirt on for his little fantasies to run wild.

Allowing a firm hand to slap against your now exposed ass, he groaned to himself as he kneaded the skin of your ass between his fingers.

“Pervert.” You mumbled.

Two fingers swiped through your glistening, slick-coated folds.

“The fuck did you just call me?” Bakugou teased, allowing his thumb to rub small, slow, agonizing, circles around your clit.

“F-fuck.” You breathed out, arching your back into his touch.

“Aw does that feel good slut? You want more?” Bakugou dipped his middle finger into your cunt, watching as you mewled underneath him.

You gripped your sheets with embarrassment, unsure of why you’d succumbed to him so fast. You hung your head in disapponment at yourself.

“More. Want more.” You mumbled, feeling empty as his fingers disappeared from your cunt.

“Didn’t know you’d get so wet just from sucking cock.” Bakugou chastised you again.

“Didn’t think you knew where the clit was.” You groaned. However your comment was punished by a striking feeling between your folds.

His fingers slapped against your clit, making you whine as he toyed with you.

“Surely if this wasn’t it, you’d be quiet right now.” Bakugou was just messing around with you at this point. You were panting as his fingers left your abused clit.

He bent down, spreading your cunt open with his fingers, dipping his tongue into your tight hole. You mewled as the appendage ravaged you. Flicking between your cunt and your clit, he was making you scream into your sheets as you came on his tongue.

His chuckled, licking up your mess as he pulled himself away.

“So messy.” He groaned.

“I bet you’ve been waiting for this cock to fill you up huh. I bet you finger this little cunt thinking about it.” Bakugou rubs the tip of his cock between your folds, butting it against your clit, watching as you whine.

“Just fuck me already.” You were tired of hearing him talk. You wanted him inside you.

“I can wait.” He pulled away, allowing the tip of his cock to just barely touch the folds of your pussy. You whined in response.

“Fuck, please fuck me. Please fill me up.” You begged, laying defeated against the mattress, your ass still hoisted in the air.

“That’s more like it-shit so fuckin’ tight.” Bakugou winced, his cock plunging through your tight folds. It felt so good. You were squeezing him, milking his cock without giving him a second to breathe. He felt like cumming again.

“I thought with-fuck-how cocky you were, you were gonna be smaller.” You retorted, mewling as his cock stretched you out, rubbing against your walls.

“You’re gonna regret ever thinking that.” Bakugou responded by peeling your ass apart with his hands, spitting down onto his cock as it slid out of you and then plunged back into you, sending your body jolting forward.

You moaned loudly as his cock plowed through your cunt, his hands now gripping your waist, holding you in place.

“Not so big and bold when you’re stuffed full of this cock huh?”

“You always fuck this good when you’re angry?” You groan, panting as he rearranges your insides.

“You wanna fuck me when I’m not?” Bakugou teases, sliding out of you before thrusting back in. Your long moan shows him he’s doing a good job.

“You might be attractive but your attitude is the worst.” You whine, feeling like you can’t hold the sheets between your fingers tighter.

“I’ll keep that in mind, slut.” Bakugou leaned and grabbed a handful of your hair, yanking it upward, pulling you into his chest. Another hand gripped your throat.

“Fuck, right there!” You mewled, his cock plowing into you at a different angle, the head of his cock bruising all the good spots inside of you.

“Why don’t you cum on this cock?” Bakugou whispered, biting down against your shoulder.

“C-cumming!” You moaned, your cunt clamping down around his cock as you reached your high. Bakugou hissed as you squeezed around him, forcing his spend out of him and into your cunt.

He let you fall against the mattress as he pulled out, a lewd squelching sound followed by his cum leaking from your pussy was a sight to behold the blonde’s eyes.

Snapping a quick picture for later, he reached for something to wipe you up with before laying down beside you.

“Maybe if you shut up half of the time I’d talk to you.” You mumbled, still trying to catch your breath.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Bakugou stared at you.

“It means...” You rolled over on top of him, leaning down toward his face.

“We’d make a good couple if you weren’t an asshole.” You press a cheeky kiss to his lips, short enough for him not to be able to kiss back. He groans and flips the tables, forcing you under him as he kisses you passionately.

“So fuckin’ date me then and stop fuckin’ around with that half and half bastard.” Bakugou replies.

“Are you blushing?” You tease the blonde, your own cheeks feeling hotter than usual. Bakugou groans and plants his face into your pillow.

“Shut the fuck up. And not a word of this to anyone-”

“Unless I become your girlfriend yeah I know.” You lay beside him and yank up the covers over your naked body, kicking off the rest of your clothes that were uncomforabtly stuck around your ankles.

“I don’t really mean to be such an ass. I just thought-”

“Exactly, you assumed I was a dick. Just shut up, you’re making this worse for you. You really want me to break up with you after we just got together?”

Bakugou is dead silent for the rest of the night as he eventually cuddles up next to you.

The following morning, a few people are surprised to see you actually speaking to Bakugou, and Todoroki is one of them.

Though by the end of the week, most everyone knew what went down, Bakugou mentioned it to Kirishima on accident and then it had spread.

Todoroki was thoroughly surprised, due to the entire nature of you and Bakugou’s previous relationship. But ultimately, as long as you were happy, he couldn’t be mad.

“About time you realized you liked her.” He mentioned swiftly to Bakugou as they passed in the common room.

“What you’d say to me!?”

»»————-　★　————-««

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spacexcowgirl · 3 years

Text

I’d Lie - G.W.

George Weasley x Reader

Summary: Y/N fell for her best friend, but she can’t let him, or anyone else, know that.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Alcohol usage/intoxication, swearing, mentions of food, LOTS of pining and unrequited love, I don’t think there’s anything else?

A/N: This is a song fic inspired by the wonderful unreleased song “I’d Lie” by Taylor Swift! mmmm this is my first fic without a *happy* ending and boy does that make me sad. But do not worry I quite literally already have a second part planned oops. Pictures are from Pinterest.

message to be added to tags :)

I don’t think that passenger seat

Has ever looked looked this good to me

He tells me about his night

And I count the colors in his eyes

Y/N distracted herself with her fingers, tangling and untangling them and cracking her knuckles. It was all she could do to stop herself from completely ogling the boy sitting beside her on the couch. He was positioned towards her, one leg bent at the knee and resting between them on the couch. His hands moved back and forth wildly as he spoke, recounting some story that had happened during quidditch practice that night.

“Are you even listening?” George cut himself off, his tone light. When Y/N snapped her head up to look at him, she found that he was smiling, but still he looked a bit offended.

“‘course I’m listening.” Y/N reassured quickly, her eyes finally meeting his. That was all it took, and suddenly she was being reeled into those chocolate brown eyes, drowning in their various shades and hues, with no way out.

Y/N wasn’t sure when her feelings for her best friend shifted from friendly to something more. It was as if one day his messy hair transformed from something to giggle and roll her eyes at to something to swoon over. When his pranks made her admire his genius rather than scold the disturbance they caused. When his incessant teasing shifted from mild annoyance to exuberant joy from receiving any attention from him. Of course, these shifts all happened slowly, over a period of time, but the realization of them hit Y/N all at once. She was head over heels for the boy, and she hadn’t even realized she had been falling.

If she didn’t know any better, she’d be convinced that someone was slipping her a love potion. Or, maybe, she just hoped that, because Godric would it be less embarrassing than the reality of things. Because the reality was, Y/N really had just fallen for George Weasley, no potions or gimmicks needed, and while she was irrevocably in love with him, he had no clue.

“Seems like you zoned out for a second,” George lightly nudged her with his elbow, although a glowing smile remained illuminated on his face. “What’s on your mind?”

“Just…” Y/N racked her brain for an excuse, something believable, because she knew George could always see right through her. “Just classes, I guess. Umbridge. All of it. I guess I’m just stressed out.”

“So you’ve been letting me carry on about quidditch?” George sounded shocked, but his teasing smile was comforting. “Please, love, if you need something to take your mind off things, you should’ve just said so.”

Without Y/N even having to tell him what she needed, he was up and off the couch, rushing towards the boys’ dormitory steps. Y/N only had a moment to furrow her brows, before George was rushing back down them with a jumper in one hand and a bag of sugar quills, her favorite, in the other. Y/N exhaled a deep sigh, before the involuntary glow and warmth overtook her. Because no matter how much she longed to only view George as a friend, everything about him permeated her subconscious, lamenting and solidifying his place as more.

He’ll never fall in love he swears

As he runs his fingers through his hair

I’m laughing ‘cause I hope he’s wrong

Y/N and George walked side by side down the corridor, laughter bubbling from both of their chests. Y/N adored moments like these, when she could forget everything for just a moment and just bask in the presence of her favorite person. Ultimately, they always were ruined by her feelings hitting her like a truck, or by someone coming to steal him away, so she always tried to live in those few peaceful moments for as long as she could.

George nudged her with his elbow after making a joke, and just as she was about to respond she noticed the change in his demeanor. He was no longer laughing, but instead a small smirk had appeared on his face as he nodded a few feet ahead of them. Y/N followed his gaze, her eyes landing upon his twin brother leaned casually against the wall. In front of him was Angelina, his girlfriend, rocking on her heels as she giggled at something he said.

“Sickening, aren’t they?” George prodded, shaking his head a bit as Fred swooped down to steal a kiss on her lips.

“I think they’re cute.” Y/N tugged her books into her chest, tilting her head to the side as she watched the love-stricken couple. Angelina could have a tough exterior, and Fred could be a lot to handle, but they just got each other so well. Y/N would never say it aloud, but she envied them.

“You would think so,” George scoffed lightly. “You don’t have to listen to him ramble on about her every bloody second of the day.”

“Maybe you’re just jealous.” Y/N teased, turning her body away from the couple to face George instead.

“Hardly.” George rolled his eyes, shifting his books into one arm. He slowly raked his fingers through his newly cut hair as he spoke again, entrancing Y/N entirely. “Love’s just not in the cards for me right now. Someone’s gotta worry about products, and about making Umbridge’s day as awful as possible.”

Y/N laughed at his joke, although she felt a little sting in her heart. Sure, he had said ‘right now,’ and perhaps that should have incited some hope in her, but it didn’t. It just made her chest ache. She knew it was foolish, but she couldn’t just drop it. She had to push on, test her luck and hope that George would offer her any sort of solace.

“Come on, I think it would be nice.” Her voice was quiet, and she found she suddenly couldn’t meet his eyes. “Someone you could share everything with? Yanno, they could just be like… your person.”

George seemed to mull over her words for a moment, before swinging his arm around her shoulder and continuing to push down the corridor.

“Well, I already have you for that, right?” George beamed down at her. “Why would I need a girlfriend? You’re already my person.”

Y/N was certain her heartbreak could be heard throughout the school.

He looks around the room

Innocently overlooks the truth

Shouldn’t a light go on?

Doesn’t he know that I’ve had him memorized for so long?

The party was in full swing, blinding lights and near deafening music. It was risky, what with Umbridge slinking around every corner, desperate to give students a detention, but they needed this. Something about this year felt different, and not in a good way, and Fred and George knew one of their infamous parties was just small way to lift spirits.

Y/N scanned the crowd of people, nursing sips of her firewhisky every few moments. Parties weren’t necessarily her thing, but she couldn’t deny that she needed to unwind. As her eyes finally fell upon their desired target, she couldn’t help the warmth that bubbled in her chest or the smile that involuntarily rose on her lips. Once George met her gaze, he shot her a wink and beckoned her over, and she was quick to oblige.

“Having fun, darling?” George rested his weight against her, clearly much more drunk than she was.

“A bit,” Y/N giggled. “Not as much as you, I reckon.”

“What’s that s’pose to mean?” George slurred, giving her a drunken pout.

“Nothing, nothing,” Y/N teased innocently, shifting her weight to better support the boy. She wrapped an arm around his back, using it to steady both him and her. “Maybe you should lay off the drinking for now though, what d’ya think?”

“Fineeeee.” George elongated the last vowel before grinning down at the girl. “Always taking care of me, aren’t you?”

Y/N hummed in response, a small smile of her own growing as she felt her cheeks begin to heat up. “What would you do without me?”

“Hm. Probably die. Fred’s doing, no doubt.” He leaned down to rest his head against the top of hers, shutting his eyes for a moment as he centered himself. “Honestly though, I’m really thankful for you. I don’t think I say that enough.”

Drunk George was always a bit sappy, but Y/N certainly wouldn’t complain. His words felt like a shock flowing through her nervous system, hitting every neuron and sparking her to life. Alternatively, she also felt completely useless in producing a response.

“Godric, I really do have the best friend in the world.” He hummed.

And just like that, the shock was sucked from her body and she was left feeling nothing but empty.

He sees everything black and white

Never let nobody see him cry

I don’t let nobody see me wishing he was mine

Y/N had searched for George for hours. After Gryffindors win over Slytherin, what should have been a wonderful celebration quickly went south. Y/N had watched from the stands as three team members held Fred back and Harry loosely clung to George, as both boys attempted to charge Draco. Of course, she couldn’t hear whatever he said that got the two so worked up, but from the look on George’s face she was certain it must have been bad. Everything seemed to move in slow motion once she saw Harry let go of George, and she watched with bated breath and wide eyes as he lunged at the Slytherin boy.

Of course, she had heard about the twins’ and Harry’s lifetime ban from Quidditch, and she knew George must be feeling awful now. So, she had to find him. Even if he didn’t want to see her, or anyone, she had to be there for him.

She had checked just about every spot in the castle she could think of, sighing profusely each time that she came up empty. Fred and George knew the hidden corridors and passageways of the school better than anyone, and she was certain he had used that to his advantage.

Just as she was about to give up, she decided to check one last spot that she knew of. She crept slowly up to the seventh floor, careful to make sure no one was following her. She paced back and forth three times, just as she had been taught, and breathed a sigh of relief when the door appeared. Quietly, she pushed it open, and her breath hitched in her throat when she caught sight of the familiar head of red hair. She had found him.

It didn’t appear he had heard her come in, and she used that to her advantage as she slowly surveyed the room. She felt her heart shatter into a million pieces as she took in the familiar sight of the burrow living room and heard George’s quiet sobs from his place before the fire. After the day he had, all he wanted was the warmth of his home.

“Georgie?” Y/N whispered quietly, letting the door shut behind her.

Immediately, George straightened up and wiped at his eyes. She had never seen him cry before, and she knew there was a reason for that. Fred and him both felt they had to be strong all the time, they had to be the ones cracking jokes and making people laugh even when it was hard for them. When he glanced back, his face was red and splotchy, but a forced smile was plastered on his face.

“Hey, darling.” His voice sounded scratchy, and it was clear it was taking all of his power to keep it together. Y/N could see that his lip was busted, illuminated by the fire, and she wanted nothing more than to cup his face in her hands and nurse him back to perfect health. “Reckon you saw the fight earlier?”

“Your lip…” Y/N spoke softly, approaching him with tentative steps. She didn’t have the capacity to answer his question, not when he looked so broken and beaten down.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” George swiped his thumb over his lip, and Y/N didn’t miss his slight wince. “You should see the other guy.”

“You don’t have to do that.” She finally reached him, taking her place beside him on the carpeted floor. “You don’t have to joke and pretend everything’s fine, not with me.”

George studied her for a moment before a shuddering breath left his lips. As the tears began to pool once more, he could no longer meet her eyes. And that killed her.

“I don’t know why I’m letting this get to me so much.” He spoke, sounding entirely disappointed in himself. “But, the things he said, about my mum, my family. And then Umbridge…” His words cut off as the tears began to roll down his cheeks once more.

“I’m so sorry, George.” Y/N reached out and gently cupped his cheek, allowing her thumb to brush a few tears away. When he leaned into her touch, her heart soared. “You don’t have to shut yourself off, though. I’m here for you, always.”

“I know.” His voice was soft as he squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears away.

Slowly, Y/N leaned forward and brought her forehead to his, letting her eyes shut as well. Her hand drifted from his cheek to the back of his neck, gently playing with the hairs at the base of it. The action seemed to calm him a bit, so she continued to do it. By the light and warmth of the fire, the two sat in silence. Neither needed to say anything, they just wanted to be near each other.

“I love you, you know that?” George was the first to break the silence, not bothering to open his eyes or pull away from her touch.

“I know.” Y/N spoke quietly. “And I love you too.”

And Godric, did she mean it. But she was aware that they meant it in entirely different ways, and that George had no idea.

He stands there, then walks away

My God, if I could only say,

“I’m holding every breath for you.”

Months had passed since that night in the room of requirement, and while so much had changed, so much had stayed the same as well. Y/N had felt herself drifting from George everyday, and not because either of them wanted to. George and Fred were leaving, Y/N knew that, and they had to get everything in order to do so. So, Y/N had to push through everyday with him no longer constantly by her side, and she swore it was killing her.

A few nights prior, he had let her know that this was it, that him and Fred were really doing it. She had faked a smile, excitedly throwing her arms around his neck as she expressed how proud she was. And she was proud, but her chest ached and she swore she felt her stomach in her throat. It was selfish, sure, but she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to get through the year without him.

Now she stood in the corridor outside of the great hall, bouncing nervously on her heels as she watched him say his goodbyes to Lee. She had promised herself she wouldn’t cry, but there was already a stinging behind her eyes and she feared no matter how hard she tried to keep her emotions at bay, it would be futile.

When George finally turned and took a few long strides to where she stood, her fears were confirmed. Her tears spilled involuntarily as she threw herself into his arms, burying her face in his chest.

“Hey, none of that,” George pleaded softly, gently scraping his fingers up and down her back. “You know I’ll write the second that I’m out of here, and it’s only a short bit before you graduate and I see you again.”

“I know, it’s just…” Y/N sniffled, forcing herself to imprint the moment in her brain. She wanted to remember his scent, and the way it felt to be wrapped up in his arms, and the sound of his voice. Perhaps it was cheesy, or overdramatic, but Y/N could feel her heartbreaking by the second, and holding onto ever piece of him that she could was the only thing keeping her together. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, darling.” George chuckled softly. He pulled back slowly, planting his hands on her shoulders as he looked down at her. “You’ll be out of here before you know it, I promise.”

“You’re right, I know.” Y/N sniffled, wiping at her tears before finally meeting the boy’s gaze. The look he was giving her made her knees weak, and she found herself wanting to spill all of the contents in her heart to him.

He studied her face for a moment longer, but then Fred was calling his name and they both knew it was time. He gave her shoulders a soft squeeze and pulled her into a hug one last time, placing a kiss to the top of her head. Nothing further needed to be said, so he gently ruffled up her hair and gave her a reassuring smile, before turning back towards Fred and beginning to walk away.

The moment was ending, he was really leaving, and she hadn’t told him how she felt. Her heartbeat started to pick up, and her palms began to feel sweaty, because it felt as though it were now or never. She wanted to tell him. She had to tell him.

“George!” She called out, causing him to halt and whirl back around.

“Yeah?” He smiled warmly at her, a few paces ahead.

As she gazed into his blissfully unaware chocolate brown eyes, she found that she just couldn’t. She couldn’t drop this on him, not on one of the most important days of his life. So, she bit down on her lip before shaking her head and forcing a smile.

“Give us a show, yeah?”

“Always do.” George winked.

And just like that, he walked away. And Y/N was left feeling entirely empty.

First thought when I wake up

Is “My God, he’s beautiful.”

So I put on my make-up

And pray for a miracle

Months had passed since the fateful day that the Weasley twins left Hogwarts behind. Just as Y/N had predicted, her time left at the school dragged on horribly. Umbridge only seemed to get worse, even in the twins’ absence, and George was no longer there to comfort her. Still, she pushed through.

After graduation, Y/N was quick to get a job at a coffee shop in Diagon Alley, figuring she’d save up her money while she determined what she wanted to do. It wasn’t the worst job, but with the Wizarding World getting darker by the day, she felt constantly in fear. Still, George was close by, and she once again had him for comfort.

Most nights she’d crash on the twins’ couch, finding it easier to get up in the early mornings and go in to work than staying with her parents in the suburbs. Which usually meant waking up to George preparing breakfast, sleep thick in his voice and his hair still messy. And Godric, was he beautiful like that.

“Sleep well, darling?” George rasped out, a sleepy smile on his face. Y/N wrapped her arms around herself as a small yawn left her lips.

“Mhm.” Y/N hummed, leaning in the doorway of their kitchen. “You?”

“Pretty good.” George grinned, sliding a mug of tea down the counter towards her. Like always, he had made it perfectly to her liking. Y/N cupped the mug in her hands, letting the warmth slowly spread throughout her body and wake her up. “Think I might stop by the cafe on my break, pick up some pastries and coffee.” Just as he finished his sentence, Fred tiredly stumbled into the kitchen.

“You can just say you want to come see me, Georgie.” Y/N teased.

“It’s not just you he wants to see.” Fred winked at the girl, causing her brows to furrow.

“Oi, shut it, Fred.” George glared at his brother.

“What do you mean?”

“He hasn’t told you about his little crush?” Fred smirked, ignoring the daggers being shot his way. “Elizabeth, that girl that works with you. Georgie fancies her.”

Suddenly, even the mug in Y/N’s hand felt ice cold in her grasp. Quickly, she placed it back down on the counter, fearing she would drop it and let it shatter to the ground. A bit of hot tea sloshed out of the mug, scalding her hand and forcing her mind away from her breaking heart.

“Shit, are you okay?” George had already hurried towards her, but Y/N was quick to brush him off.

“‘m fine, I, uh, should just go get ready.”

Y/N didn’t give the boy’s time to question her change in demeanor, but rather quickly gathered her overnight bag and hurried to the bathroom, locking herself inside. She cast a silencing charm before slowly sliding down the wall, allowing herself to sob freely.

Just as she always knew, she’d never be what George wanted.

I could tell you his favorite color’s green

He loves to argue, oh, and it kills me

His sister’s beautiful, he has his father’s eyes,

And if you asked me if I love him

I’d lie

Y/N felt in a daze that entire day at work. She made drinks, rang customers up, and wiped down counters, but she was unable to think about anything other than the revelations of that morning. Of course, Elizabeth was the only other person working with her, and while she normally adored shifts with the girl, she couldn’t find it in herself to even crack a smile at her. It wasn’t Elizabeth’s fault, of course, and she would never purposefully take it out on her, but Y/N just didn’t have the energy to try that day.

When lunch time rolled around and Y/N knew George would be arriving soon, she busied herself with meaningless tasks, intent on avoiding him and saving her heart any extra heartbreak, at least for the time being. She offered him a small smile when he entered, then ultimately let Elizabeth take his order.

As they chatted, Y/N noted the way he lit up with every giggle he pulled from her lips, and she swore she could hear her heart shattering. When he finally left, coffee and pastries in hand, he called out a quick goodbye to Y/N, but she only offered a small nod in return.

“Godric, he’s charming.” Elizabeth sighed, coming to lean beside Y/N. “You two are friends, yeah?”

“Mhm.” Y/N didn’t look up from the sugar packets she was organizing, watching as her hands shook slightly.

“Well, tell me about him!” Elizabeth urged, nudging Y/N with her elbow. “Is he seeing anyone?”

“No,” Y/N sighed, finally forcing herself to look up after finishing her task. “What do you want to know?”

As much as it killed her, she knew what she had to do. George deserved to be happy, and she was his best friend, so she had to help him get there. George would never want her the way she wanted him, and maybe seeing him with someone else would help her get over that fact.

“Anything. Everything.” Elizabeth beamed, her perfect smile on full display.

“Well…” Y/N sighed, gathering her thoughts. “He has a twin, Fred, and they run the joke shop that just opened down the way. He’s a middle child, sort of, I mean Fred is technically the middle child but that’s just because he was born a few minutes earlier. They’ve got three older brothers, then a younger brother and sister. His favorite colors green, but if you ask him he’ll say it’s orange because of his hair. Um, he was shit at potions, but I think that was just because he hated the professor, because really he’s a genius. Oh, and he’s the funniest guy I’ve ever met, which I tell him all the time but cannot say in front of Fred. I don’t know, I guess he’s just about the best person I know, honestly.” Y/N sighed, finishing her rambling with a forced smile.

“Merlin,” Elizabeth stared at Y/N, wide-eyed. “Sounds like you’re in love with him.”

“No, really I’m not. We’ve just been best friends forever.” Y/N laughed, the lie tumbling easily from her lips.

Because that’s what she had to do, that’s what she’d always done. To keep George in her life, to make things easier, she kept her feelings close to her heart. And no matter how much it killed her, she would continue doing it. If that’s what it took to see George happy, that’s what she’d do.

She’d lie.

TAGS: @theweasleysredhair @letsgotothehop @wand3ringr0s3 @sarcasticallywitty15 @mischiefisbeingmanaged @gcdricreads @destourtereaux @thisismysketchbook @george-fabian-weasley @evermoreweasley @amourtentiaa @lunalovecroft @sunshineandshadowss

#george weasley x reader #george weasley fanfic #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley

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teacupfulofstarshine · 3 years

Text

LOVELY, DARK, AND DEEP CHAPTER 10

PLEASE HEED THE CONTENT WARNINGS!!! this chapter features Evil Scientist Lady and her Fucked Up WorldView a LOT, and there are also some Major Plot Events that involve Violence. i will put a summary in the end notes if you decide at any point that this particular chapter is too much - that's super valid! i will also mention here that no main characters are going to die in this story and no one dies in this chapter either.

huge huge thanks to @flamingfawkes for beta’ing!

CW: extreme disregard for human life, mentioned human and animal cruelty, toxic workplace environment, violence (both imagined and actual, mildly graphic), gun mention, minor blood, death threats, extremely unethical character, unethical science, stalking

chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3 // chapter 4 // chapter 5 // chapter 6 // chapter 7 // chapter 8 // chapter 9 // read it on ao3!

“This is the same result we’ve gotten the last twenty times -”

“I don’t care, Steven, run it again!”

Steven sighs, punching at the keyboard to run the statistical analysis sequence again. “This is ridiculous! I’ve run this sequence so many times it feels like my eyes are going to bleed. Why can’t we just turn in the results we have and -”

“Because she’ll behead us,” James snaps, “and then she’ll destroy our reputations and our families and they’ll get no severance. I have three young children at home, Steven, I need this money.” Steven softens a little, fingers running smoothly over the keys as he combs the data again. Next to him, James has a computer screen full of frame-by-frame stills of what little data they recovered from the probe before it was destroyed; Penny across the room is surrounded by ancient texts a mile high and at least three laptops.

“Why is she so interested in this, anyway?”

“It’s beyond me. Since when do we question the whims of what we’re told to do?”

Steven squints at the screen, pushing his chair back and rubbing at his eyes. “If I have to stare at these numbers for one more second, my brain is going to explode. I feel like my eyeballs are going to melt out of my skull. I wanna scream.”

James pulls up another image, staring at the blurry image of the merman before him. Steven pushes away from his own screen and squints at James’s. The merman in the photo looks young, not much older than his kid brother, but they don’t know anything about the lifespan of these creatures. He looks confused, squinting at the camera. As James flicks through the stills, the merman transitions from confused to angry to enraged, and then he attacks.

“He’s not happy about the camera.”

“Would you be happy about someone spying on you and your family?” James says, switching to the next still.

“I wouldn’t be happy if I thought someone was doing anything we do in this lab to me or my family.” James elbows Steven, but luckily no one else seems to have heard.

“This lab isn’t the most ethical place I’ve ever worked, but it pays the bills,” James mutters. “And we’re not even in the experimentation lab. We just do data analysis. We’re removed from the situation.”

Are we? Steven wonders. He sees James reach out and touch the framed picture of his daughters, and keeps his mouth shut. He turns back to his computer, watching the little spinning color wheel of his mouse as the program calculates the same numbers again and again. The results come up identical to the previous ones, and Steven clicks “Run Program” again wordlessly.

They work in silence for a while, the three of them, broken only by James’s muttering and the occasional thud of one of Penny’s books and the clicks of keyboards and mice. If they weren’t so reliant on technology, Steven thinks, there would be an enormous corkboard spanning three of the four walls, covered in pushpins and handwriting and red string connecting images. He debates actually building one, if only to increase the levity in the room, but decides against it.

He’s seen people punished or fired or who-knows-what-else for far less, after all.

Instead, after his program tells him for the twenty-third time that his results are the same (and didn’t someone say insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results?), Steven scrubs at his eyes with the heels of his palms and opens the data entry window. Maybe the problem with the results has to do with the entry of the data; did he input something wrong? It’s possible . . .

Here he goes again, he supposes. He stands up, stretches, and leans back to crack some vertebrae. “I’m gonna grab a coffee, take a short screen break, and go back to the beginning. Maybe there’s something in the input that I missed. You want anything?”

James groans, thunking his head against the desk. “I want something with enough caffeine to kill three elephants, please.” Steven nods, looking over at Penny. She shakes her head, and he heads for the shitty coffee machine a few doors down.

Several floors below, a young woman pulls her lab goggles up to rest on top of her head with her perfectly-pinned protocol-compliant bun. “The latest round of tests is completely done, ma’am. I think you’ll find the efficacy . . . striking.”

She takes the clipboard, glossy perfectly-painted nails pinching the sheets of thin paper and flicking between them. “I’m afraid I don’t do so well with the scientific side of things - Kathleen, was it? Explain this to me, would you?”

“Certainly, ma’am. As you know, the kill time for the most effective neurotoxin currently available, tetrodotoxin, varies from thirty minutes to four hours. Average time for symptoms to manifest is seventeen minutes, and from there the symptoms progress through tingling of the lips and tongue, headache, vomiting, muscle weakness, ataxia, et cetera. Death occurs as a result of respiratory or heart failure, and the poison is nearly undetectable if you do not specifically test for it.”

“The untraceability is a plus, but that is far too wide a range of times, and too slow a time even at its fastest.”

“Of course, ma’am, but as far as naturally-occurring marine poisons go - actually, as far as naturally-occurring poisons go, full stop - it is the most effective. Until now, that is.”

“Oh? What are your findings?”

“Which trials would you like to start with, ma’am?”

“The human trials, Kathleen. The only ones that matter. I hardly intend to go around killing mice and hoping that no one traces their deaths to a novel neurotoxin.” She laughs airily, and Kathleen nods along.

“Certainly, ma’am. The most recent data points indicate an average efficacy time of thirteen minutes for our compound neurotoxin, with a full range between nine and seventeen minutes passing before subject death. Subjects began to show symptoms around five minutes, give or take twenty-five seconds.”

“And those symptoms were?”

Kathleen flips through the document. “Seizures, vital organ failure, blindness, painful muscle spasms, suffocation from the inside out.”

She hums, tapping a manicured finger against the report. “Well, Kathleen, that is certainly impressive, especially for a preliminary human subject trial. These results . . . I must say, they are not nearly as disappointing as I anticipated when I came down here.”

“Ma’am?”

“How long have you worked for this company, Kathleen?”

“Almost five years, ma’am, but I’ve always been an assistant. This is my first time as lead researcher and biochemist on a project, ever since you . . . laid off the previous lead researcher.”

“Kathleen, let me be frank. These results are not what I hoped for. The efficacy time and symptom onset times are both far too long for my liking, and the range of efficacy time is too broad. By all accounts, I should consider this a failure.” Kathleen swallows, but remains poised. “However, you’ve managed to shave off a considerable amount of time from the tetrodotoxin readings. The range of symptom onset time is an acceptable breadth, and your results are far beyond anything your predecessor ever accomplished for me. This is truly impressive, all things considered.”

“Thank you, ma’am. How should I proceed?”

“I want the efficacy doubled - tripled - I want it upped by anywhere between four and five hundred percent. I want the pain increased, too. Feel free to increase your requests for test subjects, but get me the results I want. You said the original tetrodotoxin was untraceable?”

“That’s correct, ma’am.”

“Can you keep that feature intact?”

“As of right now, it is intact, ma’am. I will endeavor to keep it so in future experiments.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Welcome to your new position as head of this research division. Don’t let me down.” She holds out a slender hand, and Kathleen takes it, trying not to seem too eager.

“I won’t, ma’am.”

“How soon can you start this experiment up again?”

“The cleaners should be finished by tomorrow morning, ma’am, and I can tweak chemical formulas until then.”

“Excellent.” Her watch beeps, and she lifts it, pursing her bright lips as she examines the message she’s just received. “If you’ll excuse me, I have another matter to attend to. Someone will drop off your master access key for Lab Three within the hour.”

She steps into the elevator and lifts her watch up to her face, swiping through the messages from her secretary. One finger reaches out to press the button for the digital analysis labs floor, and the other taps away at her watch.

When she steps off the elevator, her secretary is waiting. “Ma’am.”

“What do they have for me?”

“Unclear. They said it was something they wanted to report directly to you and you alone, but it seems to be something big.”

“Hopefully it’s a big step in the right direction, or they’ll be taking a big step out of a job.” She relishes in the way the employees she passes all unfailingly flinch and then snap to perfect attention when they hear the sharp echo of her heels against the floor. She lifts her head and walks faster, striking the tiles with her heels like a gavel, sharp and precise against a judge’s desk.

The computer labs are disorganized when she enters, but there is a string of promising-looking numbers on the main display monitor. There is a woman surrounded by books and a man pulling up photos on his computer, and there is a third man standing in front of her like a toy soldier. She focuses on that one.

“I hear you have news for me? Make it swift, and make it good.”

He swallows, hard, and her eyes idly trace the line of his throat. If he disappoints her, perhaps she will drive her heel through it, to make an example of him. That would be far too messy; perhaps his dominant hand will do.

“I have narrowed down the location of the missing net, ma’am. I believe it to have washed up somewhere around these general GPS coordinates.” He fiddles with a remote in his hand, and the image on the screen changes. It shows an aerial satellite view of a secluded strip of beach, framed by rocky cliffs with larger rocks studded out into the open water. “It should have washed up somewhere in this one-point-three-seven-mile strip of beach. The whole area is property of one Doctor Thomas Sanders.”

She snarls. “That man. He won’t let us on that beach willingly until hell freezes over.”

The other man, the one scanning through photo stills and video footage, jumps up, knocking his chair backwards. “I found something!”

She turns towards him, and his excitement freezes and sputters into something much more controlled and terrified. “Show me.” He clicks something and pulls up video footage from one of their surveillance drones, zooming in on a particular patch of ocean along the stretch of Sanders’ beach. Her eyes widen when she sees what he’d noticed - a hump of red-and-white tail arcing above the waves before a pattern of ripples streaks off towards the cliff. He pauses the footage, rewinds it, uses a laser pointer to show an opening concealed in the cliff face.

“There’s some kind of grotto in there, hidden by the cliff. It’s on Sanders’ property, he has to know it’s there. And it looks like the merman from the destroyed drone knows it’s there too. Which means -”

“That must be where he’s keeping them.” Something burns in her chest, brilliant and terrifying and all-encapsulating, like wildfire. “We’ve found them, at long last.”

“What would you have me do?” her secretary asks. “I can arrange for a recovery squad at your earliest possible convenience, ma’am.”

“Assemble the squad, but do not have them move out. They will wait for my orders. When they go, you are to go with them.” Her secretary nods, once, sharp and sure. “Dispatch a crew to Lab One and clear it out. I want it prepped for containment, vivisection, chemical tests - the works. Get at least three tanks set up and one strap-down human table.”

“A human table, ma’am?”

“Yes. We have to deal with Sanders once and for all to ensure that he does not ruin any future experiments.”

“Will we be taking him as well?”

She hums thoughtfully. “No. Pull up the file we have on his known associate?”

A few swift clicks and flicks and a photo appears on the large screen: a young man with brown-and-purple hair, sleeves rolled up, carefully lowering a perfectly viable specimen into the ocean and letting it go, like some kind of fool. “His doctoral student, ma’am. The longest one he’s ever kept - this one has been with him a few years.”

“Excellent. When you raid the lab, take him.”

“Should we kill Sanders?”

“No. Rough him up a little, but leave him alive. Taking his protégé and leaving him alone, helpless to rescue him, will be the highest form of torture for such an insufferable person. The agony will eat him alive until his dying day.”

Her secretary nods, taking the notes down dutifully. The other employees look vaguely horrified, but she pays them no mind. No sacrifice is too great to be made in the name of progress, and anyone who thinks otherwise is a weakling who will never get anywhere in life.

She refuses to be one of those weaklings.

*~*~*~*~*

Logan wakes up confused.

He’s warm, warmer than he thinks he’s ever been in his whole life. When he stirs, he moves farther than he meant to - he must not be underwater. That’s enough to send a jolt of concern through his sleep-addled brain. Why isn’t he underwater? Why was he sleeping if he was above the surface? There’s no way his dad is here, and Roman hates surfacing, where are they? Where is he? But he’s so comfortable . . .

Someone shifts beside him, an arm draping across his waist, and Logan forces his eyes open. He shifts his lower half, confused when two things move instead of one, and there are layers upon layers of thin, flat, soft things wrapping around him. What is happening?

Slowly, slowly, his mind clears, and he remembers the events of last night. He grew legs - he was a human, once, before he was mer - he couldn’t sleep underwater with Dad and Roman - Virgil was teaching him to walk - Virgil put “clothes” on him - Virgil was embarrassed that he didn’t have those “clothes” on him - Virgil took him out of the lab to sleep - Virgil agreed to cuddle him since his pod couldn’t -

Logan feels the strange burning in his face again as he shifts. He can’t see well in this new human form, but when things are close enough to his face they’re relatively clear. And Virgil, still sleeping, is close enough that Logan can smell him - he smells like salt water mixed with something sharp and something sweet and something else that Logan can’t quite identify but finds addicting nonetheless. Sunlight streams in and pools around Virgil’s face, illuminating the tangled mess of hair spread around him and flopping into his face, the small puddle of water leaking out from his open mouth onto the soft thing he’s resting his head on, the way his chest moves slowly with every breath. His arm is wrapped around Logan, pulling him close. Logan thinks he might explode if he focuses on this any more, so he rolls from his side to his back as carefully as he can, not wanting to wake Virgil. Virgil tightens his arm around Logan and mutters something indecipherable in his sleep, but he doesn’t wake.

Rather than focusing on his very confusing feelings for the very pretty man next to him, Logan focuses on what he can see of the room around him. He makes a list in his mind of things that he plans to ask Virgil about later today, including:

1: There are many draws attached to the small, smooth cliffs surrounding them. How do they stay there?

2: There are lots of “clothes” scattered all around the floor, and there were several on the bed, too. Is that normal for humans?

3: Last night, Virgil did something that made the room light up with trapped sunlight! How did he do that?

4: How did Virgil get ice to stay in those big frozen sheets in such a warm place to let the sunlight in?

5: How did Virgil make ice into that weird shape that he filled with water and drank last night?

6: How did Virgil get the water to come into this place?

7: Do all humans have a specific area set aside for sleeping? Logan and his pod usually just sleep wherever they can, but Virgil seems to have this soft slab set aside with all of these soft things to be comfortable and sleep in every night. Is this a Human Thing or strictly a Virgil Thing?

Logan looks out through the sheet of ice that protects Virgil’s area from the outside and gasps. He can’t see well, but there’s a glittering expanse of blue that shifts and moves and oh, is that the ocean?

He’s spent his whole life (well, his whole remembered life, anyways) in the ocean, and he’s seen some truly wondrous things. He travels around the world with his pod, he knows the ocean is big, but seeing it spread out like this is . . . awe-inspiring. Logan has never seen the ocean like this, and now that he has he doesn’t think he can ever not see it like this again. It’s like a perfect sheet of sea-glass, rippling and unbroken but dynamic in a way that he never really gets a sense of when he’s beneath it.

He knows that there are waves, of course. There are smaller swells out on the open ocean, and larger ones when the Second Goddess dips her fingers down from the Upper Ocean and swirls the storms to a thundering burst. There are waves along the shoreline, ones that he frolics in with Roman and batter him against the shoreline. There are waves created when he or his pod members surface. But watching the movement of the ocean from up here is . . .

Even with his imperfect vision, he is completely at a loss for words as he stares at the ocean.

Eventually, Virgil stirs next to him, and Logan turns away from the ocean to stare at him. Virgil is close to him, arms wrapped tightly around him, face pressed against him. Logan’s eyesight is not great, but Virgil is close enough that he can pick out little details of his face. There are brown face scales scattered all over him, but they seem to cluster on his nose and his cheeks. Logan has wanted to touch them for a substantial amount of time, and he can’t stop himself from gently settling the tips of his fingers over Virgil’s cheek.

His face doesn’t feel like Logan was expecting. The scales don’t give texture to his face the way that Logan’s do; the skin is smooth and flat. There are little bumps all over, but the brown scales aren’t raised off the skin like Logan expected. He lets his fingers trail along Virgil’s face. His bone structure seems to be exceedingly similar to Logan’s, at least in regards to his head. Logan’s finger rests gently on the curve of bone under Virgil’s eye, and Virgil exhales warm breath onto his palm.

Logan wonders what it would be like to have this for longer than just his recovery period. He wonders what it would be like to wake up next to Virgil all the time, to get to run his hands over Virgil’s face and arms and chest and examine the differences between their anatomy. He wonders what it would be like to learn to walk without falling over, and he feels a sharp, unexpected twinge in his chest as he realizes that getting better at walking means no more closeness to Virgil.

His chest feels strange, like there’s a school of small fish swarming around and tickling his insides and making him feel all foamy, like the froth churned up by a windswept sea. He feels like he does when he’s underwater - free, weightless, mobile, limited by nothing except his own imagination. He feels unstoppable.

Virgil makes a sudden, sharp inhale, blinking his eyes open slowly. Logan thinks that, perhaps, he might not appreciate being studied unknowingly - he hadn’t appreciated Virgil doing it, before he understood what was happening, when all he knew was the loss of his pod aching like a scraped-out seashell. As Virgil wakes up, Logan shifts, turning his gaze to the rest of the room.

Virgil makes a sleepy grumbling noise, opening one eye. Logan chances another quick glance at him, and when his eye slides open Logan is struck by its beauty. He doesn’t get much of a chance to admire it, however, before Virgil is jolting backwards like Logan’s struck him with lightning. Logan is confused, reaching out and gently touching his shoulder. “Virgil?”

“Wassat?! Wait . . . L’gan?”

“It is me,” Logan says softly. “Are - are you upset with me?”

Virgil yawns, jaw dropping to his chest, revealing a flash of teeth and a soft pink tongue. (Logan wants to lick it. Why does Logan want to lick it? Why is Logan thinking about Virgil’s tongue licking his tongue - why is Logan thinking about Virgil - what in the Seven Oceans is happening to him.) “Wh - no, no, ‘m okay, I just - woke up, forgot I had you with me, got confused about another person in my bed.” Before Logan can start to feel bad, Virgil adds, “S’okay if it’s you, though,” and the foamy, floaty feeling is back.

“Did you sleep well?”

Virgil laughs, low and rumbling, and Logan can feel it in his fingers where he touches Virgil’s skin. “I never sleep well.” He sits up, and the fabric of his pajamas shifts to let Logan see stretches of soft, supple skin that he usually doesn’t. Logan wants to touch it. He very determinedly keeps his hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “Gotta admit, though, last night was . . . better than usual.”

This appears to be the point where Virgil first notices their position - pressed together, arm slung over Logan, basically cuddling the way that Logan normally would with his pod. (No tangle with his pod has ever felt this . . . electric, this charged, this important to Logan before.) His face flares a brilliant red, and he shifts like he wants to move away but -

“I’m sorry,” Virgil says. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No!” Logan blurts out. Virgil blinks at him a little, and maybe he was a little overly enthusiastic, but - “I sleep in a tangle with Dad and Roman all the time. I have extreme difficulty sleeping without contact with someone else. It . . . helped me greatly.”

“Oh,” Virgil says, face turning redder still, smiling shyly. “That - makes me feel better. Thanks, Lo.”

Logan smiles, and Virgil smiles too, reaching up to gently move a piece of hair away from his face. Logan thinks that, as far as deaths go, his chest exploding (which seems to be getting more and more likely every fifteen seconds he spends in Virgil’s presence, only accelerated by all this skin-on-skin contact they’re having right now) seems to be the most pleasurable.

Virgil opens his mouth to say something, but whatever it was is interrupted by a Ping! noise from across the room. “What is that?” Logan asks. Virgil, sadly, untangles himself from Logan and the blankets, sliding out of bed and heading over to one of the other structures in the room (what did he call it last night? Dex?) and picking up a flat glowing rectangle.

“Is everything alright?”

“What? Yeah, yeah, I - Thomas sent me a text, it’s a little weird.”

“What is a text?”

“It’s a kind of human messaging system, it allows us to communicate when we’re far away from each other.”

“Like a pod call?” “Kind of? I’ll explain more later, I promise, I just - I gotta go down to the lab real quick.”

“I’ll come with -”

“No!” Virgil snaps. Logan flinches, and Virgil softens, crossing the room and gently touching his shoulder. “Hey, no, Logan, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just - this message, there’s something off. I think something might be wrong, and I don’t want to put you in any unnecessary danger. Just - wait here, okay? Wait in my room, where it’s safe. It’s probably nothing, he’s probably fine, but on the off chance that he’s not, I want you to stay hidden safely up here.”

Logan isn’t sure why this makes his face heat up slightly, but it does. “Okay. I accept your apology, and I . . . trust you.”

Virgil smiles, soft and heartwarming, and Logan is beginning to give more credence to his “chest explosion is fine, actually” theory. “Wait for me here, okay? I’ll be right back. I promise.”

He leaves, shutting the door firmly behind him, and the foamy feeling in Logan’s chest dissipates a little. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but there’s something . . . off. If Logan didn’t know better, he’d think that he was sensing a predator approaching.

But that can’t be right, he isn’t underwater. His danger senses are likely just overreacting to his disappointment at Virgil’s absence.

. . . Right?

*~*~*~*~*

Thomas is beginning to regret letting Roman and Patton (specifically, Roman) out of the large tank before finishing his first coffee of the morning.

“I want some!” Roman complains.

“Do you even know what it is?” Thomas says. Roman pouts sulkily at him.

“. . . No,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. Thomas gives him the deadpan, no-nonsense, I-am-your-direct-superior-take-the-damn-samples-Virgil stare that he has perfected over the past few years. Roman wilts a little more, and Thomas feels slightly bad.

“It’s called coffee,” he says. “It’s a hot drink that lots of people have in the morning. Some people drink it plain, and some people add things to it to change the way it tastes. It helps me wake up more and get focused to start my day, and sometimes I drink it late at night to help keep me awake.”

Roman looks less like a kicked puppy and more like Logan, eyes wide and curious. “I want some!”

Thomas, taking a sip of his own two-seconds-of-cream-five-cubes-of-sugar coffee, nearly spits it out. He looks at Roman, eyes the very sharp, very detachable, very toxic spines covering his body, and says, “No.”

Roman’s demeanor changes entirely, switching from “curious toddler” to “toddler about to throw a temper tantrum” in a heartbeat. “Why not?!”

“Because when people drink coffee without being used to it, sometimes it makes them a little crazy.”

“I’m not crazy!”

“Do I need to recount to you how many times you’ve threatened me and my assistant since we met you?” Thomas says, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not giving you coffee until I know I can trust you not to stab me with your poisonous spines that cover your entire body and can be fired at people.”

Roman pouts more, dropping under the water and letting out a gratingly harmonious string of mer that Thomas is pretty sure translates to Roman bitching about the coffee situation to his dad. Based on the pattern of Patton’s response, he’s pretty sure Patton is laughing at Roman.

More sulky chalkboard-violin music, and then Roman resurfaces grumpily. “Dad agrees with you and says no consuming strange human foods.”

“Did he laugh at you?”

Roman squints suspiciously at him. “You can’t speak our language.”

“Yeah, but I know what it sounds like when a dad laughs at his kid.” Roman, continuing to pout, sinks back into the tank, presumably to sulk some more. Thomas takes another very long sip of coffee that is definitely too hot for his mouth and turns back to his desk.

Virgil should definitely be awake and in the lab at this point. The samples he’s supposed to be analyzing are sitting in their little tubes, each neatly labelled with locations and dates and times and what, specifically, Virgil is supposed to be looking for. Thomas considers going upstairs and waking up Virgil, who’s almost never been late for work in this way, but he decides against it. Virgil is upstairs with Logan, and Thomas knows that there’s something building between them. He’s not sure how advisable that something is, but he trusts Virgil to make his own decisions.

Besides, he could probably use some practice. His water sample analysis skills are pretty rusty, he’s had Virgil doing them for years. “Virgil, you owe me big time for what I’m doing for you.” He carefully shifts the samples over to his own desk, slides his earbuds in, picks up a pipette, and gets to work analyzing the bacterial and algal concentrations for any abnormalities.

Thomas accomplishes about forty-five minutes’ worth of work before Roman interrupts him by flicking water at him and soaking the back of his neck. “Hey!”

“I tried your name, but your little ear bug things were keeping you from hearing me,” Roman says smugly. Thomas, not for the first time, considers retreating to the closet and throwing beakers until he feels better.

“Can I help you?”

“Dad wants to go hunting and bring back breakfast, but we can’t leave without you.”

“Are you not going hunting?”

“I’m going to stay here and observe you,” Roman says.

Thomas blinks. “Do I . . . need observing?”

“How do I know you won’t sell us out to your little human friends the second you get a chance? If I’m here, I can stop you. Plus, what if you do something to Logan while we’re not here to protect him? No, no, I’m staying right where I am and you can’t make me leave.” His spines ripple; Thomas steps closer to a whiteboard in case he needs to duck.

“I’m not going to do that, and I don’t want you to stab me.”

“Still! I’m staying here! Also, Dad’s bigger than me, and he’s a better hunter cause he’s faster and he’s been hunting longer.

“Does he need something to help him carry all those fish?” Thomas asks. Roman opens his mouth like he’s going to say something snarky, pauses, and stops.

“I . . . usually we just eat what we catch when we catch it. We make a pile of prey and take turns guarding it while the other two hunt. Then we make a sacrifice to the Seven Mother Goddesses and eat what’s left.”

After some debate, Thomas is able to fashion a sling of sorts from some waterproof tarps and leftover anchor rope to tie around Patton’s body. “You can put the fish in this pouch and carry them back here. Will you be able to navigate your way back to the grotto?”

“He will,” Roman says. “Dad knows more about the ocean than any human possibly could.” Another discordant song from the tank, chastising, and Roman huffs. “Dad wants me to reassure you that he’ll be fine.”

Patton settles into the mobile tank easily, and Thomas gets him down to the grotto leading towards the sea. “When you come back, let out one of your pod calls and Virgil or I will come and collect you and your catch. Take as much time as you need, okay?”

Patton reaches up and gently pats Thomas’s arm with one large, damp hand, and Thomas takes that to mean an agreement. “Alright, off you go.” There’s a whoosh and a rush of water as it flows from the tank into the grotto in a clean arc, carrying Patton with it. Thomas waits for a moment, letting Patton disappear into the open ocean, before returning to the laboratory.

Roman, for the most part, ignores Thomas. He asks the occasional question, which Thomas tries to answer in a way that he’ll understand, and leans over the edge of his touch tank, eyes guarded. Every time Thomas sneaks a glance, when he thinks Roman isn’t looking, his expression is wide-eyed and wondrous, like Logan’s usually are, but the moment he realizes Thomas is watching him his entire face closes up like a clamshell.

Thomas wonders what it’ll take to get Roman to trust him, trust Virgil, trust any human. Granted, he doesn’t know Roman’s history with humans, but he and Patton are both fairly scarred, and Thomas might not know the whole story but he’d bet a not-insignificant amount of his monthly income that the giant starburst scar taking up the majority of Patton’s chest isn’t the result of a clash with a marine creature.

He works quietly, fielding the occasional question, keeping one ear on the grotto tunnel for Patton’s return. He’s not sure how long he expected Patton to be gone, but he hears movement in the grotto tunnel far sooner than he’d expected.

“Thomas, what’s -”

“Shhhh,” Thomas says. He stands up, pushing away from his desk, but before he can say anything else, there’s a flood of movement coming from the tunnel. Bodies pour into the lab, swift and strong and carrying weapons that they immediately train on Thomas and Roman.

“What is this?” Roman snaps, bristling. He sounds betrayed, like he thinks Thomas is behind this. Thomas picks up a heavy glass beaker, fully prepared to shatter it upside someone’s skull if necessary, but something heavy and hard strikes the back of his skull and he feels his knees crumple. Roman cries out, and Thomas struggles to push himself up. A hand fists itself in his hair and yanks him upright, sharply. Thomas exhales sharply through his teeth, but before he can start struggling, something cool and round rests against the back of his neck, shutting him up and shutting his brain down.

Roman is puffed up like a hedgehog, apparently fully prepared to defend Thomas despite his strong and inherent mistrust. Before he can begin to attack, Thomas hears the click-click-click of shoes on the hard stone floor. Whoever’s holding his head yanks him back again, and he is forced to watch as a woman walks into his laboratory.

(It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke - a sick, horrible, twisted joke.)

She has black heels, black tights, a black pencil skirt, a black blazer, and a blood-red blouse. Her hair is scraped back into a tight bun, pulled so taut it must hurt, and is held in place with a pitch black stick. She carries a - clipboard? tablet? Unclear - held against her chest, and there’s a sleek silver weapon in her right hand.

“The one from the video?” she asks.

“Affirmative, ma’am,” says the person holding Thomas’s head. The woman nods, lifting her weapon, and fires at Roman. Thomas tries to scream a warning, earning himself another painful yank from his captor, but the projectile lodges itself in Roman’s shoulder anyway.

It isn’t a bullet, but something that looks like a small syringe. Roman swats it out of his shoulder, swaying a little, but it doesn’t stop him from swiping at the - mercenary, they must be - who tries to grab him with his elbow spines. The woman frowns, lifts the weapon - some kind of tranquilizer gun? - and fires again.

Roman screams, inhuman and animal, and tears the newest dart from his arm, throwing himself out of his tank and clinging to the nearest mercenary. His teeth tear into the man’s shoulder, spines piercing through his camouflage clothing and flooding him with neurotoxin. The man collapses against the concrete, alive but unconscious, and Roman snarls at the next man as though daring him to approach. He sways, weakened but awake, and bares his teeth.

“Of course,” the woman says, tapping something on her tablet. “His naturally produced neurotoxin must be providing him with some level of natural resistance. Unexpected, but not a limitation.”

It takes three more tranquilizer darts before Roman finally slumps down into his tank, unconscious. The mercenaries look hesitant to approach him, but the woman reaches for her tablet and they scramble to action at once.

“No - no, stop, let him go, he’s not an animal for you to cart off to your lab -” Thomas starts. The man holding him knees him sharply in the back and he cries out, coughing.

They wrap Roman in thick leather bands, roughly shoving his spines flat and binding them against his skin so that he can’t attack them again. The woman nods, once, short and sharp, and they drag Roman away, letting his head bang mercilessly on the ground. Thomas catches a glimpse of a logo - emblazoned on the back of the jackets, on the back of the woman’s tablet, on the side of her tranquilizer gun - and commits it to memory. He’s going to need it, if he gets out of here alive.

“- your phone,” the woman says, and oh, when did she get in front of him.

“My what?”

His mouth runs dry as she places the tranquilizer gun under his chin, barrel pressing against his throat, and tips his chin up. “I said, give me your phone.”

Thomas blinks. “My - the desk. It’s on the desk.”

She sets her tablet down, picks up his phone, and shoves it in his face. “Open it.”

“I - wh -”

“Unlock your phone, Dr. Sanders. Must I repeat myself a third time?” She rolls her eyes. “Doctorates are wasted on people like you.”

Thomas numbly punches in his passcode, and she swipes through to his messages app, frowning before turning the screen towards his face to reveal a message thread with Virgil. “Is this your assistant?”

Thomas glares at her, he’s not going to give her what she wants, he’s not going to just give her Virgil but then the - gun, it must be a gun, what else would they be holding against his neck like this - pushes into him harder, and it’s probably bruising, and he can’t get himself killed here because then he definitely won’t be able to take care of Virgil and -

“Yes,” Thomas says, hating himself for giving in so easily. “What do you -”

She turns away from him, nails clicking against his phone screen as she sends a text message - to Virgil, presumably, and that makes his heart sink like a stone - before dropping it on the floor and stepping on it to shatter it. “I have a message for you.”

“A - what?”

“Did they really hit you that hard, or were you this stupid before we came here?” she says coldly, picking up the tablet again and tapping at the screen. Thomas groans as the man yanks him to his feet, shoving him onto his chair and pulling a roll of duct tape out of one of his multiple pants pockets. He tapes Thomas’s wrists and ankles to the chair, keeping his weapon trained on Thomas’s temple at all times, before pressing it roughly against his head and gripping his hair again.

The woman sets the tablet on his lab table, and the screen flickers to life, and then there’s a woman in front of a dark black backdrop, smiling at him like a cat who’s caught a canary. “Thomas Sanders. How long I’ve waited for this day.”

Thomas recognizes her. He knows he recognizes her. She used to be his classmate, before . . .

His head hurts, so badly that he can barely keep his eyes open, and the memory slips away. “You . . . why are you doing this?”

“Why? Because I am a real scientist, unlike you. You refuse to do what is necessary, what must be done for the progression of the species. The sacrifice of some worthless animals is necessary for humanity to reach its zenith. You would really hinder the entire human race for the preservation of lower life forms?”

“Wh - I -”

“You think that ‘preserving the ecosystem’ and ‘keeping animals alive’ makes you a good scientist, but it makes you weak. You are weak, Thomas Sanders, and if the world was left in the hands of people like you, the human race as we know it would die out in a few centuries. Fortunately, there are people like me, who understand what must be done.”

“Caring about other people and things - it doesn’t - it doesn’t make you weak,” Thomas says, chest heaving, and the woman just laughs.

“One of many logical fallacies to which you subscribe, Thomas. They really gave you a doctorate? Of course caring makes you weak. All emotions make you weak. They corrupt your data and make your experiments worthless. You must be ruthless. You must be willing to do whatever it takes to pursue your goals and achieve the height of success. But no.” She rolls her eyes, face hardening, twirling a pen in her fingers. “You insist on ethics and principles and letting emotions cloud your judgement, and that makes you a failure as a scientist. It makes you weak. Your attachments will be your downfall.”

Thomas’s eyes slide shut, head pounding, and the man behind him yanks at his hair so sharply that he knows some has been ripped out. He forces his eyes open in time to see a smile slide across the woman’s face like a knife, teeth gleaming white as sun-bleached bone.

“You won’t - get away with this,” Thomas manages. He grinds his teeth together and curls his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms to keep himself awake. “If you leave me alive -” Thomas, stop talking, why are you reminding her that she has the option to fucking kill you “- I will not rest until I find you. I’ll - you can’t -”

“You’ll what, Thomas? If you call the police, you’ll expose those creatures you’re so intent on protecting to the world. Are you really willing to take that chance?” Before Thomas can even begin formulating a response, she steamrolls him. “It doesn’t matter. Even if you were, I’m going to take some . . . insurance, shall we say.”

“Why not just kill me?” Thomas spits. Excellent idea, Doc, poke the murderous lady with a stick like a god damn hornet’s nest, the tiny Virgil in his brain hisses. Her smile, somehow, only widens, and that’s . . . that can’t be good, can it? Smiles are supposed to be good! They’re supposed to make you happy, but all Thomas feels is creeping dread and pain, so much pain, and -

Yeah. He’s . . . pretty sure he has a concussion.

“Because if I kill you, you get to take the easy way out. Your suffering will end. But unlike you, I don’t put limits on my science. I know how to cause you the maximum amount of pain.”

Thomas eyes the toxin gun, but the on-screen woman just laughs. “Not yet, Thomas. We need something from you, first.”

“You already took Roman,” Thomas says. “What more can you possibly take from me?”

“You named it? You’re even weaker than I thought.”

“He told me his name, he’s not an it, he’s not a thing for you to play with and - and I -”

There’s a strange sinking feeling in Thomas’s chest as the woman onscreen laughs. “I knew you were emotional, Thomas, but I can’t believe this! It looks like I’ll have more hanging over your head than you thought.”

“You -”

“Say, Tommy-boy, have you heard from your precious little assistant recently?”

Thomas’s entire body flushes ice-cold and then white-hot, immediately struggling against his duct tape bindings despite the man tearing at his hair and shoving the gun into his neck and snapping at him to shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up before I do something we’re both gonna regret -

“Don’t you touch him!” Thomas snaps. “If you hurt him, I swear to God -”

“You’re not in a position to be making demands, and if you don’t calm down, I’ll paint your boring little lab bright red.” Thomas freezes, holding his entire body tensed like electricity is running through his blood.

There are footsteps on the stairs. “Doc? I got your text, what’s -”

“Virgil, run!” Thomas chokes. Virgil comes around the corner, holding his phone, staring at the screen in confusion. He looks up, eyes widening in horror as he takes in the scene.

“You know what to do,” the woman onscreen says. The other woman lifts her tranquilizer gun, and Thomas is sure that he’s screaming, his mouth is open and sound is coming out but his blood is rushing through his ears and his heart is pounding like waves against a boat in rough sea and he can’t - he can’t -

Virgil turns to run, but the tranquilizer dart hits in him the back of the neck and he collapses like a sack of bricks. The woman lowers her gun and jerks her head at the two remaining conscious, unoccupied mercenaries, who step forward and grab Virgil.

“Let him go!” Thomas screams, and his throat feels raw and his chest feels raw and his wrists are rubbed raw and his soul feels hollow and raw, like he’s been scraped out with a jagged piece of metal and only an empty shell remains. Virgil’s head lolls against his chest as they drag him down the grotto tunnel, and Thomas struggles and screams and stares after them until Virgil is out of sight.

His face is damp, and his eyes are burning, and he isn’t sure if it’s blood from his head wound or tears or some strange, morbid mixture of both.

“The greatest torture of which I can conceive,” the woman onscreen says, and it takes him a moment to realize that oh, she’s talking to me, “is to leave you alive, knowing that your precious little protégé is with me, and that there is nothing you can do about it.” She leans forward, and any trace of a smile is gone. “If you try to come after me, I will kill him. If you call the authorities, I will kill him. I already found you, Thomas. Don’t think I’m not watching. If I catch so much as a whiff of you planning something, his blood will be on your hands. Do you understand me?”

Thomas, numb and shocked, can’t even respond. “Knock him out and bring the specimens back to me,” the woman onscreen says.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He doesn’t even feel the tranquilizer dart hit his neck, but he welcomes the sweeping darkness.

(Summary: Evil Scientist Lady has been spying on Thomas and she finds the entrance to the grotto where our mer friends have been hiding. She sends her assistant and several armed thugs to invade the lab, they drug Roman with tranquilizers and kidnap him. Thomas gets knocked around a lot and is mocked for being an ethical scientist and caring about people by Evil Scientist Lady and she gloats at him through Evil Facetime before kidnapping Virgil in the same way they did Roman, knocking Thomas unconscious, and leaving him tied to his lab chair. During this whole scene, Patton is out in the open ocean hunting and Logan is safely hidden in Virgil's room.)

#starshinewrites #lovely dark and deep #romantic analogical #sanders sides #platonic TLAMP

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n0wornever · 3 years

Text

Big Reputation - Luke Patterson x Reader

Can u do a luke x reader where luke pretends to be a bad student (helps with his rockstar reputation) but is actually really good at school subjects. The reader has been having trouble in a class and luke is recruited by the teacher to tutor her?

I LOVE THIS IDEA I’M SQUEALING, THANKS ANON, I hope you like it!

“Y/N, I’m sorry...there isn’t much else I can do to help you dear,” Ms. Clementine said, staring up at the girl with wide eyes. “All my tutoring sessions are booked up for the next week or so, but I will try to definitely get you in the next time around?”

The girl nodded, sliding her test with bright red F spilled across the top back into her hands. She had failed another math test and she was certain that her mother was going to go ballistic as soon as she walked in the door and showed her the most recent mark she’d received. She really did try to focus this time, but her brain couldn’t seem to calculate the formulas correctly no matter how hard she tried.

“The good news is, is that we still have several other homework assignments and three more tests coming up, you have a lot of time to make up your grade.”

Y/N tried to gather her burgeoning negative thoughts as she forced a smile onto her face. She held the paper to her chest as she paced quickly toward the door. As her eyes turned toward the open hallway, her path was blurred by a vision in all black.

She recognized the boy in front of her, Luke Patterson. His band had recently made their big break and opened for a late night show at The Orpheum and ever since, the school had been buzzing about the band members. He was in three of her classes, and although he seemed very charismatic on stage, he sat pretty still in class. She did take note that his posse was absent from this course, and they were rarely ever seen away from each other. Her eyes fell to the rings resting against his knuckles that were pinched in a soft fist and his chain that rattled against his black cargo pants before her view shifted to his face.

Luke studied her with cautious eyes, his lips pulled straight across in an emotionless gaze. She quickly pointed her attention back toward the door and started walking faster. As she finally hit the open doorframe, a voice called her back inside the room.

“Y/N, wait just a moment please.”

She spun around on her heels, eyes falling on the teacher’s beckoning hand. She walked slowly up to her desk, keeping her distance from the brooding student that stood to her left. Ms. Clementine pointed at Luke with a smile before addressing her again.

“Y/N, you know my star student Luke Patterson... right?”

Star student? She questioned internally. It wasn’t that she had ever thought that Luke was dumb. She took notice to how quickly he finished exams and how often people asked to be paired with him for group work, but she assumed it was always to schmooze him for tickets to the next Sunset Curve show, not to raise their grades. Luke’s lyrics were always ripe with rebellion, so the idea of the eyeliner-clad, angst-driven teen being anything more that sticking to the status quo in terms of high school academia.

The older woman pointed between the two students, that knowing grin still laid on her face.

“I have an idea that may help both of you,” She said as she tapped her pen against the wood desk below her.

“Y/N you do need help with raising your grades...”

Y/N shifted her weight to her other foot as she listened to her teacher talk, refusing to make eye contact with the boy she could already feel staring at her.

“And Patterson over here needs a stellar recommendation letter to get into that ivy league program.”

The girl’s eyes shifted over to him, his falling toward the window. Ivy league? She wasn’t even sure that Luke would go to college with the band taking off. Y/N’s eyes fell onto the reddish hue that took over the boy’s neck as he continued to refrain from making eye contact. Y/N looked back over at her teacher, who shook her head at the boy before shifting her eyes back to the girl.

“So I think that it would be a perfect plan for both you and for Luke here,” The boy’s eyes fell back toward the conversation at hand. “Is for him to be your new tutor!”

Luke opened his mouth seemingly to protest, but Ms. Clementine placed her hand up, silencing him.

“Luke, I would be able to writing a glowing review of the extra time that you took to help a fellow student, and Y/N here could pass my class with flying colors with your assistance!” The woman clapped her hands in glee as she spoke.

Y/N’s gaze crawled over to him again. His eyes were firmly planted on the floor with his fists now tightly wound at his sides. The room went silent for a moment as neither student replied. Y/N looked back over to her teacher with pleading eyes and the older woman turned to the boy. As she was about to speak, Luke’s head perked up and he nodded.

“Are you free at 3 on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays?”

The girl swallowed hard, unable to formulate her next thought. Instead, she simply nodded in his direction. His gaze swirled around her face for a moment before her gave her a quick smile. If she would have blinked, she’d probably had missed it. But it’s quick presence still sizzled enough to warm her cheeks.

“Cool, I’ll meet you at the library then, starting today.”

With that he stuck his hands in his pockets and moved toward his desk. Y/N turned to the right to thank her teacher before scurrying out of the classroom. Her brain started spiraling the moment she entered the crowded hallway, her eyes searching for her best friend Grace.

She saw the girl leaning against the stairwell in front of her, scrolling through her phone. Y/N practically ran to her friend, almost taking her down to the ground as she grabbed the girl’s arms as she reached her. Grace looked at her wide-eyed with a smirk on the left side of her face sliding forward at the nervous state Y/N presented back to her, hands. shaking at her sides as she released her grip on her.

“What is up with you, incredible hulk,” Grace asked, rubbing up and down on her arms.

Y/N pulled her into the less rowdy side hallway in a huff. The girl pulled her taller friend behind her, leading her to the outdoor plaza in the middle of the school, Grace giggling as she trailed along. As they made it to their final destination, she leaned against the window as she crossed her arms at her chest, waiting for her best friend’s urgent answer. Y/N took a second to catch her breath before talking.

“I,” She took in breath of fresh air, pointing a finger toward her awaiting friend. “Ms. Clementine assigned a new tutor to me to help with my grades.”

Grace rolled her eyes “That’s what all this fuss is about?”

Y/N shook her head, leaning next to her friend. She turned to face her with wide eyes.

“My tutor is, Luke Patterson.”

Grace’s mouth gaped open, staring at the girl. She pushed off the wall and walked in front of her friend.

“You mean Sunset Curve’s Luke Patterson?” She tapped her finger against her chin. “Huh, I never took him for a scholar.”

“Me either,” Y/N whispered, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Why are you so nervous? You two barely know each other...” Grace asked with an eyebrow raised.

Y/N sighed loudly. She knew that she barely knew him, but that’s exactly what made it so nerve-wracking. She was okay hanging out one-on-one with people she knew quite well, but the second she was left alone with a stranger she froze like an icicle in the middle of December.

“Exactly Grace! I don’t know him, you remember the last time with that group project?”

Grace nodded, letting a little giggle escape her lips “You mean when you almost had a panic attack on Reggie’s kitchen floor because he asked you what you thought about the slideshow he created?”

“EXACTLY,” Y/N was shouting at this point, running her hands through her hair.

Grace looked at her friend with a sympathetic smile. She moved back over to the window to sit next to her, the girl’s head falling onto her shoulder.

“It will be okay love, you can text me at any moment you’re feeling anxious, and excuse yourself to the bathroom. I’ll stick around for an hour after school just to make sure you’re alright.”

Y/N took a deep breath, mumbling a thank you in her best friend’s direction and Grace placed a kiss on the girl’s head.

Y/N headed over to the library exactly five minutes before three. As she walked in, she waved at the librarian that often let Grace and her avoid the cafeteria by turning a blind eye as they ate their sandwiches in between the stacks. Finding an open spot by the window, she set her bookbag on top of the empty table. She took out her textbooks and sank down, finally let herself rest against the chair.

At exactly 3 p.m., he walked in. He met her gaze with wide eyes, shaking his head at her. She tilted her head to the side as she watched him speedwalk toward her. He grabbed her book off the table and tapped against the hardwood.

“Nope, too public, come on.”

She stood up and grabbed her bag, throwing it over her shoulder, rushing to keep up with him. She followed him down the narrow corridor toward the bathrooms. She furrowed her brows in confusion as Luke turned to her. He pointed at a door on the lefthand side and then stepped forward to push it open. The small stairwell led them down to the basement where a lot of the archived newspapers and anthologies were stored. Y/N could smell the books as soon as she entered the room, letting her eyes closed as she breathed in their scent.

Luke slammed her book down on the table near the film reading machine and smiled sheepishly at her. She moved toward the other side of the table and sat down without another word. Luke eased into the chair across from her, leaning his head against his fist resting on the table.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly.

She turned to meet his eyes, biting down on her bottom lip. “Is this where you kill me?”

Luke’s face broke out into a full smile at that point, unable to hold back the full-blown cackle that racked through his ribs. She watched as his head fell back as he laughed, letting a small smile fall onto her lips too. As he rose to meet her eyes again, the smile stayed.

“You’re funny, huh?”

When she didn’t answer, he spoke up again. “I don’t want people to getting the wrong idea.”

“What, that you’re a secret genius? How terrible!”

She shrugged, pursing her lips as her shoulders rose. Luke’s jaw locked as he looked at her for another moment, a smirk rising to the right side of his face.

The silence hung a bit too long and Y/N knew her cheeks were growing redder by the minute. She shifted her focus back to the textbook below her.

“So, where do you want to start?”

She forced her eyes to meet his again and his regular scowl was back in rotation. He placed his pencil behind his ear, looking off into the corner of the room for a moment before holding her gaze again.

“Next week’s quiz is the last one on chapter 9, so let’s start there.”

She nodded at him, flipping the book open and diverting her gaze to the pages of text. She heard his voice ask a question over her head.

“What’s the most difficult question for you on the last homework assignment?”

She chewed on her bottom lip, if she was honest, she’d say all of it. But she knew they only had an hour a day, three days a week. So she pulled out her marked up piece of notebook paper. She tried to hold it close to her to hide the red from his eyes, but she knew the marker ran through the paper. She gave in and laid the paper flat on the table, and pointed to the fourth problem in the first row.”

“Probably question D, I don’t even remember her talking about this ever??”

He leaned over her shoulder, looking at her paper. She tried not to think about the woodsy aroma of his cologne that wafted close to her as he did, trying to focus her attention the paper shaking in her hand.

“Ahhh no, that’s a tough one.”

He leaned back over to his side, pulled out his red folder and brought out the same worksheet. She watched as he looked over his work before turning to her again. He looked over to her paper and read over the equation she had written. Y/N let her eyes gaze over to the clock on the wall, not wanting to watch as he realized how terrible she really was at math.

“You literally made the tiniest mistake,” he said with a chuckle.

She turned her head and looked at him, his crooked smile directed right at her. She look of confusion fell into a pout as she tilted her head at him. He pointed down at the paper and walked her through the entire problem. As they reached the end, Y/N fell back into her chair with a groan.

“You’re literally telling me I just forgot to carry the 1?” She said as she nervously gnawed at the end of her pencil.

He squinted one eye as he braced for his next statement. “Afraid so, that seems to be the only issue with your process.”

She lifted her head to the ceiling, shaking it as she laughed angrily at herself. As her gaze fell back to the table, she saw him already looking at her with a strange look, his eyes were wide and the line across his forehead sat tensed.

“What?” She asked, letting her hands rest on the table.

“You’re a little too hard on yourself.”

That statement sent a shock through her system. His soft eyes and worried gaze was galaxies beyond what she expected Luke Patterson to be like. Her eyes fell to his hand where his fingers anxiously tapped against the table. He was waiting for her to respond. She pulled herself together, meeting his eyes again with a forced grin pulling at her lips.

“No, it’s just that....I’m just really bad at math.”

Luke peered over to her paper again and her heartbeat rose. She watched as he scanned all the bright little dots and checkmarks before returning his eyes back to her face.

“No, like a lot of this stuff is really easy to fix.” His hand moved to point at a problem. “You just get to about the middle and slip up a bit, which derails the final answer. Totally fixable, you’re on the right track.”

She shook her head at him “Why are you being so nice to me?”

He let out another laugh, eyes crinkling at the impact. “Did you expect me to be terribly mean?”

She paused for a moment, word vomit spilling out from her mouth without giving her a warning.

“Honestly? Yeah, a little bit.”

Luke brought his elbow up to the table, letting his cheek rest inside his hand. He let a small smile spread across his face as he looked at her, biting down on his bottom lip.

“I do love to prove people wrong, so I’m going to take your wide-eyed look of confusion as a compliment.”

She immediately dropped her gaze, giggling down at the table. She looked back up and his eyes were on the stacks, monitoring the collection of old papers that lined the shelves.

“You know, I don’t think it makes you less rock and roll to be good in school,” She finally said, her tone coming out in a soft whisper. “You don’t need to hide in the basement of the library.”

His gaze pointed back at her and she immediately stiffened. She had pushed too far, she thought as she looked at his pensive face. But a smile fell onto his cheeks quickly after, sending a sigh of relief though her.

“You’re probably right,” He admitted, leaning back in his chair. “But I’m not necessarily hiding anymore with you here.”

The left side of her mouth rose as she held his gaze. The two sat in silence, staring dreamily at one another for a moment. Finally Luke broke the silence by clearing his throat and looking at toward her worksheet again.

“Ready to try another one?”

She let her eyes fall on his side profile for a moment before responding.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

She waited to hear that chuckle again before looking down at the paper in front of her again.

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#luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson fanfiction #jatp #julie and the phantoms

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