#and the dentist told me she was in awe with mine

[ryryryryryryryryry]

Went to the dentist for the first time in 10ish years, she told me how I have 0 cavities and absolutely beautiful teeth (I know). I was planning on getting my cyst removed tomorrow, because that’s when the oral surgeon is in. IT POPPED TONIGHT WHILE I WAS EATING PEANUT BUTTER AND CHOCOLATE.

#my cyst is called a ranula #and it’s basically the salivary gland gets trauma and fills with mucous #and the dentist told me she was in awe with mine #she’s never seen one nearly as big and said she hoped that she’d be free when I had my appointment so she would be able to see the surgeon #drain it #so guess how much mucous was just in my mouth #and guess how big of a hole I have in my mouth now? #I’m still going to the appointment to make sure everything’s cleared out and I don’t need sutures but I’m so relieved #the amount of pressure I had #it went into my throat and neck and into my cheeks and ears that’s how bad it was #i feel like a new person

[thelasttimeyoueversawme]

Haha i havent gone to the dentist in a few years bc im over 26 this is the first time not on my parents plan so i had to go to someone else. Yeah she said theres no bill just a receipt that they can show me when i come in. I told her to email me and shes like oh idk if i can do that before ur appointment so i told her take time and i canceled the appointment. I have never been in a case where i didnt get a bill before paying. So we will have to see what they do. This ruined my whole day. She kept saying that my insurance plan is low and it made me feel poor and bad about myself

Aw I’m sorry you felt bad! Dental insurance is notoriously bad though and sometimes it ends up being cheaper to not have insurance for just cleanings yk?! Try another dentist that place sounds weird! Maybe check with your insurance for a list of places that accept w/ estimated cost. I know I got that from mine

#i got mail #anon

[lumosinlove]

Coast To Coast

part iii

Two Meetings and a Reunion

(Notes: To chirp in hockey is to make fun of/lightly insult.

Nous n'avons jamais passé une nuit dans un lit ensemble sans—nous embrasser: We’ve never spent a night in bed together without--kissing each other)

Gryffindor, 2017

Logan had heard from Finn over the phone, of course. Congratulating him. They FaceTimed. They missed each other.

They didn’t talk about it. The day Finn left.

Finn’s call to Logan had been one of many congratulatory emails, texts, calls, and voicemails. One call of which had been from Sirius Black himself, slightly awkward, but awe-inspiring none the less.

Drafted to the Gryffindor Lions. First Finn, now Logan.

If they had been anyone else, Logan would have thought it too good to be true.

But that was all they were: Phone calls, and messages. A screen between them, one of them having to go soon, both of them busy.

It was nothing compared to Logan pulling up at Finn’s apartment, having just dropped his things off at none other than Pascal Dumais’ house. There would be no buffer. It would just be Finn, right in front of him, tall and lean muscle and…everything.

Logan pulled his car into park in the street and took a breath. The problem wasn’t Finn. He wanted to see his best friend more than anything. The problem was that he wanted to kiss him, too.

I’m here, he texted Finn, coming up.

He received only a string of exclamation points in return.

Logan got out of the car, feeling his heart jump with every step. He waved to the doorman who held his hand out.

“Congrats, my friend.”

It startled a laugh out of Logan. Gryffindor really did love their Lions. The man must have recognized him.

“Thanks,” Logan shook his hand, and the man smiled.

Logan spent the short elevator ride bouncing on his toes in silence. He took of his hat, pushed his hair back, and then put it back on.

All he wanted was to see Finn. Maybe that was part of the problem.

When the doors did ding open, he almost didn’t get out. He stood there until the doors started closing, and then pressed his hand against it, making them spring slowly back apart.

8B, Finn had said. Logan looked until he found the right numbers on the door. He knocked, and the door opened instantly to reveal a slightly breathless Finn.

Logan almost turned around.

Finn looked the same, and different. His smile was the same, wide and lopsided. Logan remembered going to the dentist with him to get that bottom tooth fixed. His brown eyes and the wavy red hair. The dark freckles over his nose. He had a gray t-shirt on, the collar loose and making his pale skin look creamy. But he looked stronger, his chest and shoulders pressing against his t-shirt in a way that was new and no help at all to Logan.

“Hi, Fish,” Logan managed.

Finn let out a noise that hit Logan right in the chest.

“Lo,” he sighed out, and then Logan was in Finn’s arms. It was a feeling that he had thought he was ready for. He was wrong.

Finn clutched at him, leaving Logan no choice but to bury his nose against his shoulder. He smelled the same. Logan pressed his hands hard against Finn’s back figuring, if he couldn’t have anything else, he could have this.

“Fuck me,” Finn laughed and pulled back. “Fuck, come in, come in.”

Logan let Finn lead him into his apartment and seat him at one of his open kitchen’s bar-stools.

“Wow,” Logan said as he sat, looking at the view overlooking Gryffindor. “This place actually does make OKN look like a shit hole.”

Finn snorted as he messed around with some coffee, dousing Logan’s in cream and sugar and leaving his own be. “NHL salary, ma-is a-mi-es.” Finn grinned when Logan winced, sitting beside him. “Still can get you with my horrible French. That’s good to know some things never change.”

Logan smiled, trying not to let his eyes trace over Finn’s entire body, and took a sip of his coffee instead.

Finn just looked—good. Healthy and happy and so gorgeous Logan didn’t know how he had dealt with it for so long.

Maybe Finn had someone now, Logan thought. Maybe that was why he looked different.

“How’s Dumo’s?” Finn said, resting his feet on the rungs of Logan’s stool.

“Surreal,” Logan said, corner of his mouth lifting in a shaky smile. He knew where this conversation was going.

Finn nodded. “Yeah, I didn’t stop feeling like I was in some fucking dream of mine until four months into last season. Flight?”

“Same old, same old. My mom fussed, you know how she is.”

“Boy, do I. Bet your sisters wanted to come.”

Logan smiled. “They wanted to see you, really.”

Finn laughed. “Aw. Well, I miss them.”

Logan nodded, spinning his mug around slowly on the table. He had missed Finn, sometimes so bad that it hurt, and now he didn’t know what to do with himself. He wanted another hug, wanted to touch him somehow. He reached out and pulled a piece of string from his shoulder, flicking it away and returning to his cup. The slow scraping noise of ceramic on stone filled the room for a few moments before Finn set his mug down and leaned in a little.

“Lo, did you—did you ever think about…”

Logan raised his eyebrows when Finn trailed off. “Harz, there are so many ends to that sentence…”

“Sorry, sorry,” Finn ran a hand over his face. “I just…” Finn gestured widely around the apartment, then laughed, a disbelieving, short thing, and stared at Logan with sadder eyes. “I’ve got three fucking bedrooms in this place. It’s just me.”

Logan looked away, back towards the view of Gryffindor. “We talked about this.”

“No,” Finn said. “You texted me that you were living with Dumo. That was it. That isn’t a conversation.”

“You know why we can’t—” Logan stopped, blood rushing in his ears. “Why I…Nous n'avons jamais passé une nuit dans un lit ensemble sans—nous embrasser.”

“Here we fucking go,” Finn let his head fall back for a moment in frustration before he looked at Logan again. “You can’t do that shit when you don’t want to talk about something.”

“Yes, I can.”

“No, Logan!”

Logan stood up. He took a step back. “You know why we can’t.”

Finn stood, too, hands outstretched like he wanted to gather Logan to him. He watched Logan retreat though, and drew back, holding them against his chest.

“I thought,” Finn began. “I thought maybe…Lo, now that you’re here—”

“The Lions newest rookies,” Logan snapped. “Fucking each other. That’s how you want to start your NHL career?”

Finn narrowed his eyes. “I refuse to give a flying fuck about anyone who thinks I’m wrong for wanting you.”

That rang like a bell in Logan’s mind. “Then why haven’t you told anyone?”

“Because you don’t want to!” Finn shouted. “And I want you, and I was worried it might make you…”

Finn trailed off again, and Logan watched as his entire posture deflated. Finn sank back onto the stool, rubbing his palms over his eyes, shoulders hunched. “Might make you want to not, like…fuck, I don’t know, not be seen with me or something.”

Finn’s words hung in the air.

Logan knew he should say something. The air didn’t feel quite in his chest anymore, but sucked out by the vacuum that was Finn ever thinking that Logan wouldn’t want him around. He hovered there, just a few steps from the door.

I want you. Finn had said it twice. Logan felt a sick sort of guilt twist in his chest. He had never even said it out loud.

Logan turned towards the door, away from Finn, and pressed his hands over his eyes. He took his hat off and put it back on.

“Can you sit down? Alright, just…can you sit?” Finn said. “I’m sorry, this isn’t how I wanted this to go, but I just had to know.”

Logan turned again and sat, every part of him feeling heavy. He was pretty sure this wasn’t what you were suppose to feel like when you were drafted into the NHL.

“I understand why you’re scared,” Finn said slowly. He pressed a hand to his chest. “I’m scared. Our lifestyle doesn’t exactly have a nice track record with openness. We both know that.”

“So, I live with Pascal,” Logan said.

“And what, ignore me?”

“No,” Logan groaned, pressing a hand over his eyes. “I just mean—if I lived with you, Finn…”

“What?” Finn said, and then reached forward, tugging Logan’s hand away from his face, his fingers wrapped around his wrist. “You what?”

“You know what,” Logan snapped. “J’ai—“

“Logan.”

“I like to kiss you,” Logan said, voice raising. It was the closest he could get.

“Then kiss me,” Finn said right back. “Kiss me all you want, we’re in the same fucking room for the first time in over a year.”

Logan stood again, raising his hands slightly, before letting them fall back against his thighs. His heart was beating out of his chest. He wanted what Finn wanted. But he also wanted all the things that meant he couldn’t want Finn. He didn’t know how to make the two meet. He didn’t want to hide.

Finn stood, too, but instead of saying more like Logan thought he would, he just pulled Logan in again, holding him against his chest, one hand pressed to the back of his neck.

“Okay,” Finn said, voice quiet, like he was trying to lull Logan. He ducked, pressing their cheeks together. “Okay. Fuck, Lo, don’t look like that.”

Logan blinked past him, dazed and warmed through and through. He wondered what his expression could have showed. He clutched back at Finn, letting out what felt like all the air in his lungs.

“Let’s agree,” Finn said, and pulled back, hands on Logan’s shoulders.

Logan would never get tired of the determination in Finn’s eyes. “Agree?” he asked.

“I miss my best friend,” Finn said. “I don’t want to lose you because…”

But neither of them had the words for it. Because of a mistake, because they wanted each other, because they didn’t have the luxury of doing either. Logan didn’t know.

“I miss you, too,” he said instead. Because it was simple. He did.

“Come get lunch with me,” Finn said. “Let’s just—let’s go out to lunch, I’ll show you around the city. I want to hang out. I fucking miss you. We don’t have to…we can just…” Finn sighed. “We’ll talk about it when we talk about it. But I just want to be with you right now.”

Logan’s mouth felt unbearably dry. But the prospect of being with Finn all day filled him with a sunny ache. “Pascal says you should come over for dinner tonight.”

“And what do you say?”

“I said we would bring the wine.”

Finn laughed, hands still warm on Logan’s shoulders. “As if we know how to pick out wine.”

Logan smiled a little, the air around the two of them easing a little.

“Come on,” Finn said, and he smoothed his hand up to press against Logan’s neck for a moment before he let go. Logan leaned into the touch. “I’ll take you to Sid’s for pizza.”

He started towards the door, but Logan stopped him.

“Harz,” Logan said.

Finn picked up his keys from the table by the door before turning around. “Hm?”

Logan took a breath. “I could never not want to be seen with you,” he said, the urgency that Finn understand him filling his chest. “Finn, I’m not ashamed—of anything. I’m just…”

Finn nodded quickly. “I know.” He let out a short laugh, before swallowing hard and looking down at the keys in his hands, twirling them with his fingers slowly. “Believe me, I know.”

Logan let Finn lead him back out into the sunshine.

~

Gryffindor, 2019

Finn thought he had cleaned the best he could. He also thought he had done the right thing, offering Leo a place for the year so that he didn’t have to stay in a hotel room, alone and wondering if he was good enough not to be called down. He had extra bedrooms, just down the hall from his own. He’d cleared one out, bought some nice high-thread-count sheets and a quilt, and then left the rest up to Leo. He wanted him to like it here. He remembered how hard it had been to be a rookie. Glorious, but hard. Homesick, intimidated, working harder than he ever had in his life to prove himself. In love with his best friend. Although he was fairly sure Leo wouldn’t be dealing with that last big, he wanted to take as much of the weight off of Leo’s shoulders as he could.

Finn looked around the living room, checked the time on his phone, and looked around again. The Xbox was displayed proudly in the TV stand, he’d folded the blanket on the couch like his mom had told him to a million times, and the kitchen looked clean enough—it didn’t get a lot of use, anyway.

Finn had read Leo’s stats, watched his tape, and so, when a six foot something guy showed up at his door, he wasn’t surprised. When cornflower blue eyes looked at him from beneath sunny blond hair—

He was a little taken off guard.

“Hi, Finn?” Leo said, and held out his hand. “Leo Knut, pleasure to meet you.”

There was a southern accent. Finn swallowed.

“What’s up, hi,” Finn took his hand and smiled. “Come on in, Leo. Hey, I can snag one of those.” Despite Leo’s protesting sound, Finn took the heavier of the two hockey bags and slung it over his shoulder. They ended up just piling Leo’s stuff in a corner of the living room.

“Well, here she is,” Finn gestured to the living room. “I hope, um,” Finn rubbed the back of his neck. “I hope the traffic wasn’t too bad. I really could have picked you up.”

“No, no, it isn’t worth the trouble,” Leo waved him off before pulling his sweatshirt off. He had a white t-shirt underneath, tight over his strong shoulders. “Gets hot here, huh? Not as hot as it does back in NOLA, but…”

“Oh, yeah,” Finn said with a smile. “New Orleans.”

Leo nodded. “Where’re you from again?”

“New York. New York City,” Finn said. “Yeah. Pretty similar to Gryff. Walking, and subway, and all that.”

“That’s nice, for it to be a little bit like home.”

Finn nodded, sitting down first in case Leo was waiting. It seemed like he was, and he sat down beside him in the couch, crossing one strong-looking calf over the other. His legs went on for miles, stretched out like that. Finn forced his eyes back to his face and cleared his throat. “The team helps, too. They’re great.”

Leo let out a laugh. “I got a call from Sirius fucking Black welcoming me to the team. I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

Finn laughed, too. “Yeah, I remember getting that call. Lo—ah, Logan Tremblay, we—”

“Were at Harvard together,” Leo nodded. “Yeah.”

Finn smiled, a little surprised. “Yeah. Well, he was with me when Sirius called. Completely freaking out while I was trying to play it cool, you know? Fucking wild, man.”

Leo sank back into the cushions, nodding. “Nice that y’all’re playing together again.”

Finn smiled, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, no, we’re just lucky, I guess.”

“But he doesn’t live here, too?”

Finn glanced away. “No. No, I think his parents wanted him to billet. And Dumo offered, so…” Finn shrugged, and Leo nodded with a friendly smile.

Finn watched for a second, as Leo looked around. He was poised, and calm. A stable sort of strength seemed to flow through his every limb. Finn was sure he wasn’t like that when he was eighteen. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anything like it before. It was calming. It felt almost completely opposite to being with Logan, who was like a fire cracker waiting for its fuse to hit, constantly moving and saying whatever came to mind, no filter. Leo seemed to be more think than do. Finn could understand how he had become a goalie.

“Thanks again for letting me live with you…Harzy, right?”

“Yeah,” Finn said. “You?”

“Knutty,” Leo said after a moment.

Finn laughed. “No kidding.”

Leo rolled his eyes. “It’s pronounced newt, but you can’t be a hockey player and have a name like mine without that getting lost in translation. I’ll tell you now that I’ve heard it all before.”

“Right in the nuts?” Finn said.

Leo nodded.

“Peanut allergy?”

“Don’t even get me started.”

“Damn,” Finn laughed. “All the good ones are taken.”

Leo tilted his head at him, smiling so a dimple appeared. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

~

Boston, 2019

Leo watched Logan hover in the room, bag still over his shoulder and eyes darting around as if he was expecting something to leap out and bite him. When Logan finally looked back at him, Leo smiled, a little questioningly.

“Ah,” Logan began, then gestured with his room key between the two hotel beds. “Do you like the bed by the door or the bed by the window?”

Leo shook his head. “I’m sure you already have a preference.”

“Yeah, but you goalies are crazy,” Logan said, a small smile building on his face at the chirp. “Wouldn’t want to mess anything up.”

“I thought older players were suppose to take advantage of all the seniority they could get their hands on.”

Logan narrowed his eyes at him playfully before slowly dropping his bag onto the bed closest to the door. Leo nodded and walked around him, bumping him with his own bag accidentally, and sat on the bed closest to the window before taking out his phone.

“Do you want to grab dinner, maybe?” Leo said, then glanced up, suddenly a little nervous. “We could get some guys together. I was looking restaurants up in this area and there’s a good looking Mexican place.”

Logan unzipped his bag and rummaged through it. “Me and Harz were thinking of going somewhere.”

Leo almost nodded, understanding, but before he could get a word out, Logan said, “Come with us?”

“Yeah,” Leo said. “Yeah, sure, thanks.”

Logan nodded, before promptly stripping out of his shirt. Leo looked appreciatively for a second, before Logan pulled on a clean, long-sleeved one. It was cotton, and thin enough to show the strong shape of his broad back and shoulders. The dark green color matched his eyes. He wasn’t wearing a hat for once, and his hair curled over his forehead and temples.

Logan patted the back pockets of his jeans for his phone and wallet before looking up at Leo. “I’ll text Finn, lobby in five?”

Leo nodded, standing to change out of his plane clothes, too. “Sounds good.”

They were able to walk to the restaurant, which was a nice change from sitting on a plane and bus all day. They met Finn in the lobby, who smiled and threw an arm around Leo when he saw that he was coming. It was a surprisingly warm evening, the sky turning a dusky blue. Leo walked between the two of them on the streets of Boston, occasionally adding his two cents about the upcoming game against the Bruins, but mostly quietly amused by their bickering.

“I’m just saying that their power play sucks, okay,” Finn said, and then leaned in to look at Leo’s phone which had a map up to the address. “Should we have gone left?”

“We’re literally following the blue line,” Logan said.

“I know, but that way looks shorter.”

“New Yorker, forever in a hurry,” Leo said, and Logan laughed.

“Got that right.”

“I’m hungry!” Finn said, shoving Leo’s shoulder, which made Leo stumble into Logan, which knocked Logan off balance.

“Merde,” Logan laughed. “Keep your octopus limbs where I can see them, Nut.”

They reached the restaurant a few minutes later, and the hostess seemed to recognize them. She took an interest in Finn immediately, telling him as she sat them at a table near the bar that she was from Gryffindor.

“Really,” Finn smiled, running his fingers through his hair. He glanced at Logan. “It’s a great city.”

“Why don’t I bring you boys some margaritas and chips and guac to start, on the house,” she left with a hand on Finn’s shoulder.

Logan whistled lowly. “Better let Timmy know now that he better find somewhere else to sleep for the night.”

Finn shoved him. “Shut up.”

Loe smiled and looked down, picking at his napkin. The girl came back with their drinks and took their orders. Logan had gotten up to use the bathroom, and Leo watched as Finn ordered for him without a second thought.

“No cilantro on his, please,” Finn smiled up at her, before turning back to Leo.

“Glad you came with us, Nut.”

“Me, too,” Leo said. “Hope this place lives up to its reviews.”

“Well, yeah,” Logan said, returning to his seat and making a grateful sound when he saw the chips and drinks. He picked a few pieces of cilantro away from the guacamole before digging a chip into it.

“Won’t live up to your cooking, though,” Finn said with a wistful look at Leo, propping his chin on his hands.

“You cook, Nut?” Logan asked through his mouthful of chips.

Finn snorted. “Does he cook. Fuck me, best steak I’ve ever had.”

Logan raised his eyebrows. “Better than Celeste?”

Finn hesitated. “That’s an unfair question.”

Leo laughed. “I’ll answer. No. I don’t think anyone is better than Celeste and I’ve been there all of once.”

Logan looked around. “Can we order?”

“Sit still,” Finn said, patting Logan’s hand on the table. “I ordered for you. Relax.”

“I’m relaxed.”

“You’re never relaxed,” Finn raised an eyebrow.

“Do you guys having any friends from Harvard coming to the game?” Leo asked.

Logan shook his head, wiping salt from his bottom lip with his thumb. Leo tried not to stare. “Non, most everyone we know graduated by now.”

Finn looked mournful. “We’re old. Unlike Peanut here.”

“Yeah,” Logan nodded at the margarita in Leo’s hands. “How’d you get your hands on that?”

“The hostess saw that Finn’s hot.”

Finn turned a little pink, groaning and covering his face, but he was smiling. Logan’s smile was more subdued, and he broke a chip into little pieces over his napkin.

Their food was pretty quick, and they talked while they ate, Leo listening to some stories from wild parties at school.

“You ever wanted to go to college?” Finn asked.

Leo shrugged. “I wanted to play in the NHL. But, I think about it, sometimes. I know I probably missed out on stuff.”

Logan took a bite of his food. “Eh, sort of, sort of not.”

“Wouldn’t have met me, though,” Finn smiled, leaning his head in to tap against Logan’s temple. Logan smiled, ducking away.

“You’re all trouble,” he murmured.

It sounded like a joke to Leo, but Finn’s smile dimmed a little, and then Logan looked up sharply at him, like he’d said something wrong.

“Yeah,” Logan added, brushing their shoulders together. “You made it worth it.”

Leo looked between the two of them, suddenly feeling like he was intruding on something. The colorful lanterns that covered the restaurant ceiling turned Finn and Logan a million, warm shades. They shared a smile, and then the moment passed, but Leo was still locked into it.

He had known what he was getting into, placing himself in an NHL locker room, surrounded by beautiful boys all day every day. He wasn’t complaining, but he wasn’t looking to develop any hopeless feelings either. But he’d grown up hiding his sexuality in a locker room, and so he knew a spark of something when he saw one. There was a new set of strings between Logan and Finn that he could see now, ones that weren’t just friendship. He wondered what else they hadn’t missed out on at college together.

They got back to the hotel relatively early, ready to head to bed for a morning practice. For a first road trip with the Lions, Leo decided it was going smoothly. He and Logan didn’t seem to need to communicate too much to dance around each other in the bathroom as they got ready for bed.

Leo came out of the bathroom last to find Logan already laying on his bed, scrolling through his phone. Leo had only just taken off his shirt when his phone started ringing, his mother flashing up on the screen.

“I’ll take this outside,” Leo said, but Logan waved him off.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Only if you want to.”

Leo didn’t really feel like pacing the hall in just his pajama pants. He smiled gratefully, and swiped to answer. It was a quick call, mostly just his mother asking if she should send him anything else for the apartment and saying goodnight. Leo smiled, told her that he and Finn were working it out, and that he loved her.

He had hung up his phone and was leaning over to plug it into the charger on the bedside table between them, when he caught Logan staring at him. His eyes were wide, and he looked mildly horrified.

“What?” Leo said.

Logan start at him for another moment, before he seemed to compose himself.

“What,” Logan began. “What just came out of your mouth?”

Leo laughed, realizing. “We speak French back home, too.”

“Your accent,” Logan said. “It’s…”

Leo snorted. “I could say the same about yours.” Although, Leo had to admit he rather liked Logan’s accent. The hard ‘r’s were so different than his own. If he was the sun and heat, Logan reminded him of snowy mountains and green forests. Ice over a lake.

Logan laughed, shaking his head. “I just didn’t know you spoke French.” He pushed his covers back and crawled beneath them. “Merde. That was the strangest thing I have ever heard. Will you get the light?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Leo smiled. He pulled his own covers back, too.

“First roadie okay, Nut?” Logan asked. He had his hands tucked up by his chin, his hair and eyelashes dark against the white pillow case. Leo stared, and then turned off the light, climbing into his own bed.

“Yeah. Really good.”

“Good.”

Leo thought of Logan messing with him on the ice. Finn’s bed-head in the morning, tripping over his feet for coffee. He thought of the both of them tonight, walking on either side of him. He listened to Logan’s breathing even out, and wondered what the hell he was getting himself into.

#coast to coast #sweater weather spin off #o'knutzy #finn o’hara #Logan tremblay #Leo knut #finn x logan x leo #lumosinlove #lumosinlove ocs #lumosinlove oc #writing #harry potter #wolfstar #Harry Potter fic #sirius black

[edie-k]

The Art of Christmas Tree Selection

Title: The Art of Christmas Tree Selection

Rating: PG/PG-13 (just language)

Disclaimer: Not mine

Summary: On holiday at Hermione's house, Ron is faced with one the scariest prospects of his young life: a talk with Mr. Granger.

In the way back times, less than a year after the publication of Order of the Phoenix, I wrote my first Romione fic. This was it. In the spirt of Christmas, I thought I would share it. It is, AU after OOTP. Originally published on Checkmated, as I am 16 years older, I now made Ron’s conversation with Mr. Granger slightly less melodramatic to find a better balance. Enjoy!  

“Now wait Hermione, explain this again. How exactly do those people get into that box?” asked Ron, cocking his head at the television set in the corner.

“Honestly Ron, I’m not explaining it again!” Hermione huffed, placing her hands on her hips. The long strands of garland she had previously been winding around the banister of the staircase trailed from her fists to the floor.

“Aw, come on love. You enjoy being a know it all,” Ron replied, crossing the room and wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and pulled her back against him.

“Ron!” squealed Hermione, pulling away slightly and turning in his arms to place her hands on the back of his neck. It was all Ron could do to restrain himself from letting out a sigh of contentment. Luckily, his ego kept him from sounding too effeminate.

It was his last Christmas break before leaving Hogwarts and it was the first holiday that he would spend without Harry or his family. Hermione had wanted to spend Christmas with her mum and dad and she had managed to get Ron to agree to accompany her home.

If he was completely honest, Hermione had some rather brilliant ways of convincing him.

Hermione and he had finally managed to get their act together a couple of months into sixth year. All of their pent up emotions and tension spilled out in the middle of a row. “I always knew it would come out like that,” Ginny bragged. In all honesty, Ron couldn’t remember what the argument had been about but he never mentioned that because Hermione most likely did.

In the year and some months they had been together, life had proved to be rather trying. Then again, life as Harry Potter’s best friend was never easy. Having Hermione by his side through it all was the biggest blessing he could have received. Of course, Hermione had always been there with him but without the underlying tension, he found that much more comfort in her presence.

Harry was really supposed to be there with them. After Hermione had talked (well, not necessarily talked) Ron into going to her home for the holiday, she had immediately invited Harry, who much to their surprise, declined. He informed them that he had already accepted his mum’s invitation to join the Weasleys and told Ron and Hermione that he would see them when they arrived at the Burrow on Boxing Day to spend the rest of their holiday. “Besides,” said Harry after Hermione had retired to her room for the night. “Don’t you two want to spend some time alone?”

Yes. Yes he did. Another disadvantage of being Harry Potter’s best friend (besides the target on your back) was that Harry required an abundance of support and attention to keep him from slipping into a mood of eternal melancholy. Ron looked forward to any time that he could spend alone with Hermione. Of course, their alone time was not going to happen at her parents’ house.

Hermione’s parents. Oh Merlin, they made him nervous. There were times when Ron could barely convince himself that he deserved Hermione, how could he convince her parents?

Ron had seen snippets from letters that Hermione had received from home and he could tell that they thought she could do no wrong. He figured this had to do with the fact she was an only child. His own parents had never harbored such beliefs. They were overjoyed if their children could make it through the day without hurting themselves or one another.

Hermione’s parents were dentists. This was some sort of Muggle tooth doctor and according to Harry, dentists typically made a good deal of money. If their house was any indication, it was rather obvious. Harry also told him that to become a dentist, you had to go to university for a number of years. Therefore, the Grangers were just as brilliant as their genius daughter.

For the three days since their arrival at the Granger household, Ron stuck as close as possible to Hermione. This strategy had seemed to work for him so far. The first two days, the Grangers had worked during the day (which also equated to some proper alone time) and he only faced their scrutiny at dinner. With Hermione there to properly steer the conversation, Ron was able to participate and sound at least half way intelligent.

This morning, however, was the first day of the Grangers’ holiday from their office, and consequently, Mrs. Granger had scheduled a doctor’s appointment for Hermione. Hermione had protested fervently. “Honestly, I don’t need to see a cardiologist. Just because I had a slight murmur as a baby doesn’t mean there is a thing wrong with me now. Believe me, if it was anything life threatening I’m sure that I would already have had cardiovascular failure,” Hermione had vented to Ron. He had merely nodded and inquired as to the time of her appointment. The appointment was scheduled for 9:15 in the morning and Ron had managed to stay in bed until 11:00 when he heard the front door open. His mum would have him degnoming the garden for the rest of his life if she found out he behaved that way while a guest in someone’s home.

It was now the afternoon and they had finished lunch and begun to decorate the house for Christmas. Hermione had been wrapping the garland around the banister of the stairs of the entrance hall where Ron had been hanging garland to line the windows of the front door. The house was beginning to take on the aromas of Christmastime, which reminded him of his own mum’s baking.

“Ron? Ron?” said an amused voice. He shook his head, clearing it and looked down at a grinning Hermione. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Oh, uh, sorry. I got a bit lost in my own thoughts there.”

“I asked if you wanted to take two steps to the right,” she repeated. Ron glanced upward in the direction that she had indicated and grinned. With his arms still around her, he took two exaggerated steps until they were directly underneath a small sprig of mistletoe dangling from the ceiling. He raised his eyebrows twice and drew a giggle from Hermione, something only he could do. He leaned in for a sweet kiss.

“Hermione?” called a voice. Ron dropped his arms away from Hermione and quickly pushed her away.

“Yes Dad?” asked Hermione, rolling her eyes at Ron. Hermione had told him that she was positive her parents would not be offended if they were affectionate with each other in front of them but Ron could barely bring himself to hold her hand in the presence of her mum and dad.

“Mum was hoping that you would help her in the kitchen with the fudge. She seems to think that if you prepare it, Aunt Patricia won’t be so inclined to criticize it tomorrow.” Mr. Granger gave her a wink and she smiled.

“Sure, Dad,” she replied.

Ron was now completely unsure as to what he should do while Hermione assisted her mum. Before he had much chance to panic, Mr. Granger opened his mouth, uttering one of the scariest things Ron ever heard in his life.

“I was just about to leave to get our Christmas tree. I could use some help. Why don’t you join me, Ron?”

“Uh-um, yeah,” Ron stuttered out. “I mean, yes sir. I would be glad to help.”

“Wonderful! I’ll just round up my winter things,” Mr. Granger said, heading toward the back of the house and leaving Hermione and Ron alone in the front hall once again.

Ron turned to Hermione, his eyes wide open and filled with panic. Hermione rolled her eyes. “Ron, it’s just my dad. You have faced things much more terrifying than my father.”

“Well, what if I slip and say something that makes him hate me?” Ron asked, his voice filled with fear.

“As long as you two don’t discuss snogging habits, I think that you will do fine,” Hermione said with a smirk.

“Hermione!” Ron said, aghast. How could she even joke about this?

“Well, honestly Ron. What could you possibly do? Dad is already quite aware of the wizarding world. My parents know the basics of the war with Voldemort, so no surprises there. I’m sure you’ll be fine.” With that, she stood on her toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek before entering the kitchen to help her mother and leaving him absolutely alone in his own misery.

“Blimey,” Ron muttered to the empty room. “I’m screwed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This whole excruciating mess had to be almost over. It seemed like hours since they had left the safety of Hermione acting as a buffer. Ron glanced out the car window and over his shoulder. Shit. He could still see the driveway. They had barely started.  

“Well Ron,” said Mr. Granger. “Judy and I are glad that you could join us for Christmas. I’m sure Hermione filled you in on our family.” Ron nodded. Both sets of Hermione’s grandparents knew that she was a witch but none of her aunts, uncles, or cousins were privy to that information. They thought she attended Huntington Preparatory School. So that meant that he would not only have to pretend to be a Muggle but a smart one as well. At least with Hermione’s parents he could respond with his real life.

“I plan on letting Hermione run the conversation,” Ron said nervously.

Mr. Granger smiled sympathetically. “Don’t worry Ron. We won’t let you die out there. I hope you won’t be too overwhelmed by all of the family tomorrow. They are a good group but they can get a bit rowdy as a party wears on.”

“If anyone understands a rowdy family, it’s me, sir,” Ron answered. Of course, when he was with his own family, he didn’t need to lie about his entire life and impress them enough so that they thought he was good enough for Hermione.

Mr. Granger chuckled. “I would imagine that you are well-versed in that. I’ve heard plenty of stories about the trouble that your twin brothers cause… What are their names again?”

“Fred and George,” supplied Ron. Ron had a feeling that Mr. Granger had not heard some of the more recent stories from Hermione’s visit this summer since most of those involved Ron and Hermione having tricks played on them while being caught in rather compromising situations.

“I know that Hermione has always enjoyed the time that she spends with your family. I imagine it’s nice for her to experience a big family first-hand. Judy and I are glad that she’s seeing a young man that comes from such a strong family background. I’m not sure how things are in the wizarding world but there has been a breakdown of families here in recent years and it’s nice to see that Hermione found someone who was raised with strong family values.”  

“My mum and dad tried their best,” Ron responded. He began to relax a bit. This wasn’t so bad. Mr. Granger was actually being quite flattering. And he had managed to answer mostly in complete sentences.

“Judy and I do like you, Ron,” Mr. Granger continued. “But Hermione is our only child. As her father, it’s my obligation to ask you what your exact feelings toward her are.”

How much would it hurt to jump from a moving car? They were traveling on side streets so they couldn’t be going that fast. As long as he tucked his head…

“Ron?” prompted Mr. Granger again.

“I’m sorry sir,” squeaked Ron in a voice that had not made an appearance since early puberty. He cleared his throat. “Could you repeat that?”

“I’m sorry to take you by surprise. Take a moment to collect your thoughts,” Mr. Granger said.

What Ron really wanted to do was slap himself in the forehead. Why had he left his wand back at the house? Not only was it stupid with all the danger they faced but if he had it, he could Apparate the hell out of there. No. No, he had to stay. And not just because he did not have his wand. He had to stay because he loved Hermione. All he had to do was explain to her father why.

“Uh, well sir, I love your daughter very much. She’s been my friend forever. And I reckon that even with a family as large as mine, she’s the one person in the world that I never have to doubt. She always believes in me and supports me. And even when we argue, I never have to wonder if she really loves me or not because I already know the answer. And I want to be that person for her as well. She means everything to me,” Ron said. Wow, that was pretty articulate!

Hermione was really rubbing off on him because now he was thinking words like articulate. And earlier this afternoon, he was pretty sure he had thought the word melancholy. What was happening to him?

Mr. Granger cleared his throat. “That’s very good to hear Ron. A little hard for a father to hear but it’s a very nice thought.”

“I uh- I mean every word of it,” Ron said, trying to sound confident. He was confident in how he felt about Hermione but less certain about expressing it to her father.

“I’m sure that you do. So now I have to know-what are your intentions toward my daughter?”

According to Bill, Charlie, and Fred, who all had fiancées or steady girlfriends, those were the scariest seven words in the English language. He had laughed at the time. What could be so horrible about saying that his plan was to marry Hermione (when they were much older, of course)? Now that he was actually expected to say it to her father he felt closer to his older brothers than ever before. He prayed that he could channel one of them as he answered the question. Preferably not Fred.

“Um, well, uh, sir, I guess my plan is that when we are older-uh, much older- I would like to spend- that is I want to.” Gryffindor, Gryffindor! “I’m planning to be with her for as long as she’ll have me.”

Mr. Granger turned to regard him as Ron stared determinedly out the windshield. “Do you know what Hermione’s plans are for the future?”

Ron was a little surprised by this. He had expected the next question to be about his own future and career. “I don’t think she has quite made up her mind as to what occupation she wants to pursue. I suppose it doesn’t matter. I’m sure she’ll succeed no matter what she does. I just hope that she plans to take me along for the ride.”

The answer seemed to satisfy Mr. Granger. “We know our daughter is intelligent Ron.”

“I wouldn’t have made it this far without her,” Ron said. He immediately reddened at his sudden interruption. “Um, sorry sir.”

“That’s okay. I’m glad to see you think so highly of her. We want her to reach her full potential and we want to see her with someone who will be supportive of that.”

“Yes, of course sir. I sincerely doubt that I could stop her even if I really wanted to.”

Mr. Granger laughed. “She said you had a sense of humor. Although we haven’t seen much of it this holiday.”  

“Well, I reckon I have been a bit nervous,” Ron admitted. He remembered Charlie had said that his girlfriend’s father had liked it when he had shown fear.

“I remember the first time I was alone with Judy’s father,” Mr. Granger said. “I was helping him fix a few shingles on his roof and when he asked me how I felt about Judy, I contemplated jumping off the roof.”

Ron laughed uncomfortably. Was he a mind reader?

Mr. Granger cleared his throat and a rather serious look crossed his face. “This might sound a bit hypocritical after I made such a point of Hermione’s independence but as her father….” Mr. Granger stopped and he looked as uncomfortable as Ron did for a moment.

The car was on a busier road and now traveling at a faster speed but if Mr. Granger asked Ron a question about their physical relationship… gravity be damned, he was jumping.

Ron debated on whether he should prompt Mr. Granger to continue because he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to hear it, when Mr. Granger continued his previous thought.

“I know there is danger in your world. I don’t know the extent of it but I think that it is worse than Hermione leads us to believe.” Mr. Granger glanced at Ron who continued to sit in silence. He did not want to incriminate Hermione because he knew that she had not told her parents the whole truth but his silence seemed to affirm Mr. Granger’s opinion.

“And I know that Hermione is in more danger than most.” Harry Potter’s Muggle-born best friend? She was probably third on Voldemort’s hit list, behind Harry and Dumbledore.

“So I just want to make sure that, well, that...” Mr. Granger was struggling for the words but Ron could see where he was going. And Ron knew exactly how to answer this question.

“Mr. Granger, I promise you that I will protect your daughter. I will keep her safe until the day I die. I would do anything to keep her safe. Anything.” Wow, that was good. He sounded pretty manly.

“Thank you Ron. That’s what I wanted to hear,” Mr. Granger said.

Ron felt the need to fill the silence so he followed up with “I mean it, sir.” He mentally slapped himself. Way to contribute a worthwhile comment, Weasley.  

Mr. Granger looked at him and smiled. For the first time the whole ride, Ron turned to meet his eyes and smiled back.  

The car coasted into a lot filled with pine trees already cut and prepared to be sold. Mr. Granger put the car into park and Ron opened his door and slid out.  

“One more thing Ron,” said Mr. Granger as they walked toward the tree lot.

“Yes?” Ron asked, meeting his eyes again. Hermione was right. Her dad wasn’t so bad.

“When you’re with my daughter, keep your hands where I can see them.”

#au romione #ROMIONE #fanfic #christmas fanfiction #ron weasley #ron x hermione #hermione granger

[wonkasmissstarshine]

The Chocolatier’s Rose {Willy Wonka x OC} Ch.16

GIFs not mine. Credit go to owners.

Summary: Rose and Charlie go with Willy to see his father. Afterwards, Willy makes another offer to Charlie.

Tagging: @holdmeicant​ @willymywonkers​ @sleepiesapphicxoxo​

The elevator landed in the middle of nowhere. The only thing that was there was a lonesome building. Willy, Rose, and Charlie stepped out of the elevator, and met with the bitter coldness of the snow.

Rose looked over at Willy. He looked uncomfortable, nervous and scared. She grabbed his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. "Everything will be alright, Willy" She promised him. "Charlie and I are right by your side"

"Thank you, starshine" Willy said, giving her a small smile. Rose didn't want to, but she let go of his hand, to wrap her arms around her body. It was colder here than it was at home, and all Rose had to wear was a thin and torn wedding dress. Her poor legs got the worst of it though. Willy looked at her and noticed how much she was shivering. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yes" Rose managed through chattering teeth. "Although, maybe I should have kept the torn part of the dress as a shawl or something"

"But then what would keep your poor little legs warm?" Willy asked. He took off his black fur coat, and draped it over Rose. She hummed in content when she felt the warmth from it enveloping her body. "Better?"

"But won't you be cold now?"

"Don't worry about me. I just want you to be warm" By this point, they had reached the lonesome house. The three of them walked up the stairs. "I think we've got the wrong house" Willy said before looking at the plaque next to the door. Dr Wilbur Wonka, D.D.S Dental Practitioner. Willy made a face and turned his head away. Rose reached for Willy's hand again.

Charlie rang the doorbell. When the door opened, it revealed an older gentleman, with white hair and beard, wearing a matching white dental coat and glasses. This was Dr Wilbur Wonka. He stared down at the three strangers at his doorstep. "You have an appointment?"

"No, but he's overdue" Charlie answered.

******

Willy sat in the dentist chair. Dr Wonka then lowered the chair, so that he could examine Willy's mouth. "Open" Dr Wonka instructed. Willy, slowly and unsurely, opened his mouth. "Now, let's see what the damage is, shall we?" Dr Wonka started his examination.

"Rosie, look on the wall" Charlie whispered to his sister. Her gaze followed the direction of Charlie's pointing finger.

"Oh my..." She muttered.

Her and Charlie walked on over the wall. Dr Wonka had framed newspaper articles all about Willy and his chocolate factory. There was also a framed photo on the stand, who Rose presumed was of a young Willy. There was also a scrapbook with more newspaper articles and clippings, and even some candy wrappers.

Rose smiled to herself. All these years, Willy's father was truly proud of him.

"Heavens," Dr Wonka gasped. "I haven't seen bicuspids like these since...since..." He slowly pulled the tools out of Willy's mouth. Dr Wonka's eyes were wide in surprise when he realized just who this patient was. "Willy?"

"Hi, dad" Willy whispered to him.

Dr Wonka put his tools down, and Willy sat up straight. "All these years..." Dr Wonka started, as a soft smile broke on his face. "And you haven't flossed"

Willy shook his head. "Not once"

The reunited father and son shared an awkward moment of silence when they just stared at each other, and nervously fumbled both of their hands. They decided on hugging each other, even if it was hesitant at first.

Charlie and Rose were observing the two of them with smiles on their faces. The two Wonkas ended their hug. Dr Wonka averted his gaze to the two Buckets. Though, his attention was mostly on Rose, especially when he noticed the sort of attire she had on. "Miss, may I ask why you're wearing a torn wedding dress?" Dr Wonka asked.

"Oh" Rose looked down at the dress. "It's, er, a long story"

"This is Rose Bucket" Willy introduced her. Rose smiled at Dr Wonka, curtsying as she did so. "And this special little boy is her brother, Charlie" Charlie politely smiled. "Charlie found one of my Golden Tickets"

"I was allowed to bring one chaperone with me" Charlie added. He looked up at his sister. "So I decided to bring Rose"

"I see" Dr Wonka said, a faint smile still playing on his lips. He noticed the way that Willy was looking at Rose. It was at that moment that he realized that this girl meant a lot to his son.

******

The three of them walked back to the elevator, all of them relieved that the reunion between Willy and his father went well. Dr Wonka even invited them all to come and see him again. "I think that went better than we were all expecting" Rose said happily.

"How are you feeling now, Mr Wonka?" Charlie asked.

A big grin came across Willy's face. "Much better now, thanks to you two!" He confessed. "I mean, it'll take some time before I have a real relationship with my father"

"Of course, Willy" Rose nodded. "And Charlie and I will always be there for support. Won't we, Charlie?"

"That's right" Charlie agreed with a nod.

The smile from Willy's face faltered, but he didn't look upset. He was deep in thought. "Is there somewhere we can go?" He asked. "I need to discuss something with both of you"

Rose immediately knew the perfect place. "I know where we can go"

******

The elevator landed right outside Mrs Mason's Magical Pies. They all stepped out of the elevator. An amused smile danced on Willy's lips when he read the name. "What makes the pies so magical?" He wondered out loud.

"I'm not entirely sure" Rose answered as they entered the shop. She was happy to see that it was quite lively. Charlie immediately went to an empty table in the corner. "That's a secret only Mrs Mason knows. Though, everyone who's ever worked for her always joked that she uses fairy dust" Rose giggled at the idea of such a thing. "But I honestly believe, that what makes them so magical, is the fact that she puts her love into the pies"

"It's just like my candy and chocolate!" Willy chirped. "The happier you are when you make it, the better the candy and chocolate will taste"

Rose's smile turned into a frown when she remembered that Willy's products weren't selling as well as they should be. "Is that why your chocolate hasn't been the best lately?"

Willy shared Rose's frown. "That is, unfortunately true, my starshine" His frown changed into a slight smile. "But I have a feeling it's going to start tasting the way it should be again after today"

They joined Charlie over at the table he chose. Willy sat across from Charlie, but Rose remained standing. "How about some pie?" Rose suggested.

"Sure!" Charlie nodded with a smile.

"Willy? How about you?"

"I would love some, thank you" He said.

"Alright. I'll go get us a daily special. I believe today is apple" Rose said. She smiled at the two of them, before turning and heading for the kitchen. "Hello, Mrs Mason!"

Mrs Mason turned to face her. "Oh, Rose! I wasn't expecting you back so soon! I must say, you seem an awful lot happier than you were yes—" The woman stopped when she looked down and noticed the white, torn dress. "Oh, please tell me you didn't marry that boy! And what happened to your dress!? Did he do this to you?"

"No, no, Mrs Mason. I didn't go through with the wedding" Rose assured her.

Mrs Mason sighed in relief. "Thank goodness. You had me worried" Her eyebrows then furrowed in confusion. "Then, how does that explain the torn dress?"

"I did this" Rose confessed proudly. "I also threw the bouquet at Harry's face and I dropped the cake on him"

Mrs Mason snorted in laughter. "Oh, I wish I could have seen that! I'm so proud of you!" She hugged Rose tightly. "How about some pie to celebrate? On the house, of coarse!"

"Three slices of apple, please!"

"Three?" Mrs Mason repeated. "Someone must be hungry"

"Oh no, they're not all for me. One's for Charlie and the third is for..." Rose paused.

"The third is for who?"

Rose couldn't stop the wild grin on her face. "Why don't you bring out the pies and come see! I really want you to meet him!"

A playful smirk appeared on Mrs Mason's lips. "And who is this 'him' then, hmm?" The older woman had a hunch of who it might be.

"Come, come!" Rose urged excitedly. She grabbed two slices of apple pie, the ones for her and Charlie, and Mrs Mason grabbed the third slice, the one meant for Willy.

"Charlie! Hello, my dear boy!" Mrs Mason greeted when she saw the boy.

Charlie smiled brightly at her. "Hello, Mrs Mason!"

Rose set Charlie's pie down in front of him. "Mrs Mason, I'd like you to meet Willy Wonka"

Willy smiled kindly at the woman. "Hello" He greeted her with a wave.

Mrs Mason returned the smile as she set the pie in front of Willy. "Hello, dear! Rose has told me all about you"

"She has?" Willy glanced over at Rose, still smiling.

"Oh, yes! She's quite smitten with you" Mrs Mason gushed. Rose blushed in embarrassment and looked down at her feet. "And I can see why! You're quite a handsome man!

"Oh, thank you"

"Mrs Mason, don't you have pies to make?" Rose said.

"Oh, I see. You three want to be alone!" Mrs Mason said. "I'll be making my way back to the kitchen then. And if you want more pie, just come fetch me! Like I said, it's on the house" Mrs Mason hugged Rose, and then kissed Charlie on the head. "And Mr Wonka, it's a pleasure to meet you"

"Call me Willy!" He smiled at the woman. He already liked Mrs Mason.

"Oh! In that case, Willy, you can call me Patricia" And with that, Mrs Mason retreated back into the kitchen.

"I love that woman, really" Rose said, sitting in the empty seat next to Willy. "But she can be embarrassing sometimes"

"She treats you both like your family" Willy noted. "But she's not your actual family"

"Mrs Mason treats all her customers like that" Rose explained. "Well, the ones that aren't rude anyways"

"And you don't have to be related to someone for them to be your family" Charlie added. He and Rose shared a knowing smile. "People who care about each other can be considered a family, whether you're related or not"

Willy's heart warmed at the way the two Buckets described family. He wanted something like that. "All this talk of family has got me thinking" Willy started. "I still want you both to come live in the factory, but I want your family to come as well" Charlie and Rose went wide eyed and shared looks. Willy was getting worried when they weren't answering him. "B-but only if you want to"

"Charlie," Rose spoke first. "This is your decision to make"

It didn't even take Charlie a moment to decide. He knew exactly what he wanted to do. "Yes, Mr Wonka" He answered with a smile.

A happy grin came across Willy's face. "Oh! This is wonderful!" He cheered. He didn't know what he was happier about. The fact that Charlie accepted, or the fact that he would be able to see Rose every day. "I'll make arrangements with the Oompa-Loompas to get you moved in and settled right away. By the way, they miss the both of you" Willy turned to Rose. "Especially you, starshine!"

Rose was glad to hear the Oompa-Loompas missed her. She honestly loved them. "Well, I can't wait to see them again" She exclaimed happily.

"Now, let's celebrate the momentous occasion with some of this delectable looking pie!" Willy broke off a piece of the apple pie with his fork and brought it up to his mouth. He ate it and his eyes immediately lit up. "Wow! These pies really are magical!"

Rose giggled at him and she began to eat her piece of pie, as did Charlie. One thing was for sure. Her life was never going to be dull again, so long as Willy Wonka was apart of it.

#willy wonka x oc #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka #rose bucket #my oc #rose and willy #the chocolatier's rose

[nightrosebud]

💫 with author's choice!

Can I Exist? by Missio

So I kind of cheated a little and put Missio on shuffle to choose a song. I have been wanting to do a fic using one of their songs for a while. Can I Exist? is not my favorite song from them, but I think it works for some Stricklake angst.

Home is where they say the heart is Mine's buried in the yard

Strickler let himself out of the Lake household, checking that Jim's Vespa was not waiting for him in the driveway: the only thing that could have ruined such an excellent evening. Young Atlas was probably off on his fruitless quest of requiring the Triumbric Stones. Let him. It kept Jim out of his hair and could even result in his death.

But what would that mean for Barbara?

Strickler tried to ignore the pang of guilt he felt thinking about the good doctor while getting in his car. It wasn't his fault the Amulet had chosen Jim. It's wasn't his fault Jim didn't tell his mother what was going on, making her worry. It wasn't his fault that Jim put himself in harm's way and could end up in a troll's stomach.

But it is your fault he is being hunted by an undead assassin. It is your fault you are seeing his mother. It is your fault her fate is tied to yours, for better or for worse. And we all know it's for worse. 

Strickler winced. He was getting emotional in his old age. It had to be done. He had no choice. 

Hell's a place they say is for sinners I'll be the man in charge

Strickler rubbed his eyes, trying very hard not to curse in Trollish while at school. "Otto," he gritted through clenched teeth, making his tooth ache even more. "I have gone over this already. Many times. This is for the benefit of all Changelings."

"Ja, ja, you say that mein freund," Otto replied over the phone. "But I feel that if that is true, you won't object if I called a meeting of other Changelings to make sure it is not for the benefit of just one Changeling."

"No," Strickler responded, hopefully not too sharply, as he signed a form allowing Miss Janeth to take a field trip to the planetarium. "It won't be necessary." He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his sore jaw. "What if I visited with the Lady today? See what she has to say?"

"She talks to you?" Otto asked in awe.

"Of course," Strickler lied. "And if she truly wanted Gunmar free, she would tell me."

But... how, can I exist? Within the mist of this? But... how, can I admit? That I would quit on you?

Strickler went into the travel agency. The Changeling at the desk flashed him a broad smile. What was her name? Susan something. No matter. She was a terrible spy hence her role here behind a desk.

"Good day, sir," she said with that disturbing smile. "Where would you like to go today? Down?" She grinned as she lifted the phone and dialed a number to make the floor move just as he stepped on the secret elevator. He didn't respond but started inspecting his nails.

"You know," Susan said in the ensuing silence, "I saw something interesting the other night." Strickler looked at her, feigning indifference, but something in her tone made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "You were on a date," she continued. "A doctor I have come to find out. You certainly have good taste, sir; she is beautiful."

"Just keeping up appearances," he drawled, but inside he was screaming. "You know how humans talk if you don't appear to be interested in a romantic relationship."

"Oh, I know," she said, as the elevator continued down. The mural behind her was showing Gunmar with the Decimaar Blade. "But I was able to find out who she is. Doctor Lake. You wouldn't be sleeping with the enemy, would you, sir?" she asked innocently.

He flashed her a smile, probably with more teeth than required. "Well, look at you, Susan," he said in cheer, and she blinked in surprise. "You find that out all on your own? Maybe you are a better spy than I thought." Susan blinked again but started looking smug. "I will reevaluate your position. See if you can go out on the field."

"Thank you, sir! I appreciate it, sir! All glory to Gu— to the Pale Lady."

"Yes," he agreed as the elevator stopped. "To the Pale Lady." He started to go down the hallway, the smile sliding off his face as soon as Susan was out of sight. Blast it all; he would have to take care of her before she blabbed to the whole Order. 

I wrote God a simple letter Still haven't heard from him

Strickler stood in the room that housed the phonograph. It always seemed silly to him how they had to talk to inanimate objects and instruments to hear her. But they didn't choose the vessel; she did. He started turning the handle to play the old record that had always lived on the phonograph. Maybe he could find another record to put on there. Wasn't there a record shop in Arcadia? Perhaps some punk rock for the Pale Lady. He smirked.

There was nothing but static for several minutes, just long enough so he could tell Otto that he tried, he really tired, and just before Strickler gave up, he swore he heard a whisper.

"Free... Gunmar..."

He stopped completely. Well, that was nothing. His imagination really. He quickly exited the room. He had a dentist appointment to get to. No time to listen to old phonographs. Yes. Quite.

I must have really messed up this time Shit must have hit the fan

Strickler stood in the street. He left. Otto left him. Otto. How many times had he gotten the other Changeling out of trouble? Just for Otto to stab him in the back. Metaphorically. Stickler would have been proud if it didn't mean his own head would be the one to roll.

What should he do? Angor Rot would not stop until his head was ripped from his shoulders; that was abundantly clear.

Barbara!

Jim! There was the answer. Jim would have to protect him; he would have no choice if he wanted his mother to survive. Strickler winced. He didn't want anything to happen to Barbara either, dammit, but here he was, thinking about his own bloody hide. And what would happen if Jim insisted that he get rid of the bond? Would Jim throw him to Angor, as a peace offering? Surely he wasn't that cold?

Why not? You were that cold, said a voice in Strickler's head that sounded a lot like Barbara. 

He gulped and started walking towards the Lake residence.

But... how, can I exist? Within the mist of this? But... how, can I admit? That I would quit on you?

Barbara was looking up, following the sounds of Jim fighting Angor Rot upstairs. Really, she was taking this better than Strickler had thought she would. Fainting spell and drinking a whole pitcher of water aside.

"This tunnel leads to the sewers. You can get to the street," Strickler explained, gesturing to the giant hole in her basement.

"What about my son?" she asked, hands clutched in front of her. Strickler followed her gaze, and they listened to the fighting for several tense moments. "What's going to happen to him?" she asked in terror.

"No, you have to go!" he cried as she took a step towards the stairs.

He grabbed her arm, but Barbara whirled in anger. "No! He needs my help!" 

"You don't understand," he started to explain, hands held up. "Our lives are bound magically."

Barbara scoffed. "Are you really talking about our relationship right now?"

Oh, darling, if you only knew.

"My boy is in danger!" she cried, and blast it all, she had circled so that she had a clear shot to the stairs. Strickler grabbed her, fear for her and fear for himself making him rougher than he should be, and he winced when he felt the pain in his own shoulder. "Let me go!" she screamed, and she slapped him. A second later, her head jerked back as an unseen force hit her back. "Ow!" she cried, and then she clutched her cheek. "What was that?"

"Listen to me!" he growled, emotions starting to run wild. Barbara needed to go, and maybe she needed to be scared enough to think of herself for one bloody moment. "Leave now!" And he let his eyes glow.

"What are you, Walk?" she asked in awe.

"I'm someone who can help your son... "

But weren't you the one who got him into this mess in the first place? something whispered in the back of his head.

"...but I can't until I know you're safe." He put his hands up in a pleading motion. "Please," he begged.

Barbara paused, and he could see the war on her face. A mother just wanting to help her son, her only child. And she opened her eyes, with the stare of a warrior, and issued a command he could finally follow. "Then go to him!"

But... how, can I admit? That I would quit on you?

"Don't talk to me," she growls, a frosty tone of anger Strickler has never heard in her voice. "You're the one thing I'm looking forward to forgetting."

And he sighs as she looks away. That's fair. He deserves her anger, her rage. The things he put her through, without her knowledge. This was the conclusion that he always knew would come if Gunmar had made it to the surface, if Angor had killed Jim, or if Jim had survived everything thrown at him. 

Better she forgets him. Forget his betrayal. Even if Jim told her the truth as he promised, she would be upset, but not sad. He would bear that pain. Bear the weight of his consequences. That would be better. Better for her.

Quit their relationship, once and for all.

#Stricklake #Trollhunters #feather-dancer

[ladynodrinette]

Wisdom teeth removal - Outtakes

AO3

Part 1, 2, 3

"We are gathered here today, well, we heard that speech today already haven't we?," Nino held the mic standing to Adrien's left and the crowd laughed.

"I was very honoured when Adrien asked me to be his best man and to hold a speech in honour of their marriage. I was extremely thrilled, until this guy right here told me I mustn't mention the wisdom teeth removal video," Adrien's eyes widened.

"Seriously, he made me promise not to speak of it, not to play it again for the thousand time ever since we were seventeen," Nino continued and the crowd laughed quietly.

"But, some promises are meant to be broken, don't you think so, Alya,"  Nino smiled sheepishly and looked over to where Alya was getting up from her seat and placing a mic in front of her lips, right from Marinette. Marinette's eyes glistened in panic and she seemed to be saying something to Alya while trying to be quiet (not that the whole crowd didn't hear 'Alya I swear to God').

"I'd like to agree, Nino. Since I was honoured to be your maid of honour, Marinette," she placed her hand on Marinette's shoulder, "Nino and I decided to prepare a surprise for you both!"

"We've all watched the video, mocked them for years, but what all of you didn't know-" Alya said.

"-There are clips that didn't make it into the videos!" Nino continued and Adrien and Marinette just about lost it. They looked at each other with horrendous looks as their guests yelled in excitement, they watched a projector being set up and in a matter of minutes, teenage Adrien was on screen.

Adrien slapped his hands on his face in embarrassment as video-Adrien danced around the dentist office, or rather flapped his arms in the air ridiculously. Marinette giggled next to him and moved her hand across his back in a comforting motion, but her giggling stopped when the clip was replaced with one of her own.

She was dancing like an idiot, maybe even worse than Adrien when video-Alya's voice suddenly cut in: "Why don't you try twerking?" Apparently, drugged Marinette thought it was a great idea and began doing it right away, not that it looked at all like twerking, she looked like a fish out of water.

Marinette hid her red face in her arms on the table as everyone laughed and when she looked over to Adrien, she realised he was blushing (maybe even more than she was).

"What's got you blushing?"

"Oh, shut up," he said and looked away and she grabbed him by the elbow, pulling him closer and leaning her head on his shoulder.

When they looked at the screen again it was Adrien lying in the chair smiling while looking at the ceiling. "What you thinking about, dude?" Nino's voice said.

"Nothing," video-Adrien smiled and looked away like a Disney channel teenage girl who received a text from her first boyfriend.

"Come, on tell me, I won't tell anyone," Nino whispered.

"Won't tell anyone, my ass!" real-time-Adrien screamed over the video and everyone was laughing.

"No, 's embarrassing," video-Adrien pushed Nino away and giggled. Yes, giggled. Marinette cooed at the sight and looked over to Adrien's slight blush on his face and kissed his cheek. He looked over at her and squeezed her arm.

"Come on, tell me, man."

Adrien looked to the side and mumbled a long sentence, but it was unclear both because he was whispering and because the way he spoke was distorted.

"What did you say?"

"We were talking about Marinette and I thought of her a-" he looked to the side and he was blushing.

"Her what?"

"Ass," he said and threw himself on the floor from the chair. The guest laughed as Marinette gaped and looked over at Adrien.

"You do have a pretty nice ass."

"Adrien!" she smacked his shoulder and he laughed.

"Shut up, you love me."

"Unfortunately."

A clip of Marinette sitting on the floor with her legs crossed was shown and she looked over at Alya. "Do you think he has abs?"

Alya was laughing, both in the video and in real life.

"I think he does," video-Marinette nodded to herself and hummed. Marinette took a sip of her drink, trying to ignore Adrien's furious eyebrow wiggling.

After a couple of seconds, she looked up at Alya again and said; "I want to touch his abs." Marinette spit out her drink as Adrien smirked as he whispered into her ear: "Any time, babe," and she pushed him away by the face.

A clip of Adrien laughing like an idiot was shown, and it that wasn't funny enough he looked over at Nino and slapped his own cheeks.

"What's wrong with you, dude."

Adrien laughed again and started singing: "I can't feel my face when I'm with you."

Marinette was still sitting on the floor when she was on the screen again. When the blond nurse came into the room to grab something she quickly got up and said: "When can I get my teeth back?"

The nurse smiled gently and said: "We don't usually give those back."

"Why not? They are mine." The nurse kept smiling when Marinette's eyes widened.

"Has anybody ever told you you look exactly like Adrien-"

"YOU HAVE!" the nurse screamed out of frustration before leaving the room.

The screen was suddenly split into two, one side being Adrien, one Marinette.

"She'd be the perfect girl to marry," Adrien's clip played then stopped.

"God, Alya, I'd marry him in a heartbeat," Marinette's clip played right after.

Adrien and Marinette looked over at each other fondly and he pressed a quick peck on her lips before looking over at the screen again.

"What do you think your marriage would look like?" a question stood on the screen.

"Three kids, at least," Adrien said.

"Three kids," Marinette lifted three fingers and giggled.

The screen was cut into two and at the same time they said: "and a hamster!"

"I would take care of the kids all day longgg," Adrien said with his eyes closed and head leaning to the side.

"I don't know how I would be with them all the time with sewing and everything," Marinette groaned.

"But I don't think she'll ever fall in love with me, Nino," video-Adrien sniffled.

"What's the point of talking about this when we know he won't ever look my way," Marinette smiled but her eyes were filled with tears.

The clip no longer showed the dentist room as pictures shifted on the screen.

A picture of the two of them from the back while playing Mecha Strike III.

A picture of Marinette watching Adrien from her seat.

A picture of Marinette asleep in Adrien's arms on Alya's couch when they were supposed to be doing their history project.

A picture of Adrien looking at Marinette fondly on their graduation without her looking back at him.

A picture of Malon jumping on Adrien's back and Marinette running towards them with a terrified expression.

A picture of Adrien on one knee and Marinette crying her eyes out.

Suddenly Nino and Alya were on screen standing next to each other.

"We put this together to show you how perfect you are for each other, so you can have something to look back on at all times."

"But before things get sappier than they are," Alya pointed to the camera, "Marinette wipe those tears off your face," she smiled and Marinette wiped the tears she didn't even know had fallen.

"As she was saying before things get sappier, here are a couple more clips."

Adrien was standing in the corner of the room in front of the mirror above the small sink.

"Why are these swollen?" he patted his cheeks.

"They took your wisdom teeth out," Nino said behind the camera.

Adrien looked over to Nino and Nino already knew what was going to come out of his mouth: "Not so wise anymore, am I."

Nino's groan could be heard and he walked away from Adrien.

"Don't you think that's absolutely CATastrophic!"

"You never change, huh?" Marinette whispered to Adrien.

"Never, my lady."

Marinette was out typing on her phone and Alya asked her what she was doing. "Just tweeting," Marinette answered.

The screen was filled with 20 identical tweets tweeted minutes apart (They took my fucking teeth)

"Why isn't my Twitter working?"

"Oh it's working well, girl," her best friend chuckled.

When Adrien appeared on screen again Nino asked him: "How are you going to take photo shoots with that swollen face?"

"My dad gave me a couple days off," Adrien smiled cheekily.

"Really, how did that happen?"

"I told him," Adrien stood up, "old man, just give me a couple days off, or else." Adrien hid behind Marinette's small frame when he felt his father glance at him ("You do realise he knows you're still here?" "Mari, goddamit shut up.")

"Really?"

"Hell, no."

The next clip played: "What would you say to Adrien if you didn't go all stupid around him?"

"Yo, hot stuff," Marinette smiled, "I want to girlfriend you, I mean I want to be the boyfriend to your, no wait I mean-" she groaned.

Adrien was sitting upright next to Marinette again and he looked over and said: "Aw babe, you had a crush on me."

"We're married!"

"Do you think Marinette would mind if I wore a Ladybug themed suit to our wedding?" video-Adrien asked. Marinette looked over to him and smirked confidently: "Speaking of crushes."

Adrien yelled across the auditorium again: "I wanted a tie she didn't let me!"

"And she could sew a Chat Noir themed dress for herself!"

"I would call her Meowrinette for the rest of our lives." video-Adrien said.

"That's not such a bad idea, y'know," Adrien smiled over to Marinette.

"Chaton, don't you dare."

The final clip played and Marinette was leaning on her dad for support mumbling something.

"What did she say Mme Dupain-Cheng?" Alya asked Sabine.

"I don't know, it was probably about Adrien, though." Sabine giggled.

"Not that we mind, though," Tom said.

Marinette looked over to where her parents were sitting and smiled.

The screen said 'Congratulations' and Marinette and Adrien kissed for the 100th time that day.

"Much better than a speech right?" Nino said into his mic and the crowd cheered.

[trashinaglass-archive]

Two Big Babies

Y/n and Tom unknowingly schedule their wisdom teeth extractions for the same day.

Warnings: Pain? Blood? Teeth?

A/n: I got my wisdom teeth removed the day after Tom got his removed, and I’ve never felt more connected to the boy😂

      About two months ago your dentist told you it was time to get your wisdom teeth removed. You had met with the doctor that will be doing the extraction. He had walked you through the process of what to expect, how to care for it, and the do’s and don’t’s after the surgery. You signed some paperwork saying you understood everything and gave the doctor your consent to follow through with the procedure. You had checked your calendar and picked a day that you were sure neither you or Tom were busy for.

      After your consultation you got in the car and wrote out a text to Tom letting him know what had happened and drove home. When you got there, you added your wisdom teeth extraction to your calendar. Two months later, it was the week before your procedure. You hadn’t thought to remind Tom about it because he usually remembers events like that. However, he didn’t seem to remember it this time.

      Tom was getting ready to leave for the day, grabbing stuff and letting you know some stuff before he left.

      “Oh, and I forgot to tell you. I’m scheduled to get one of my wisdom teeth out next Thursday,” he said causing you to turn quickly to look at him.

      “No, you didn’t,” you said upset. Tom stopped what he was doing and looked at you.

      “Yeah, I did,” he looked confused.

      “Are you serious? You’re not joking?” You asked him to clarify.

      “Yes, y/n. Is that a problem?”

      “Um yes? That’s when I’m getting mine taken out,” you told him. You felt upset. You were planning for him to drive you and take care of you so you wouldn’t have to worry about taking someone else from their day.

      “You didn’t tell me that, how was I suppose to know?” Tom started to feel anger rise.

      “Tom, I did! I sent you a text right after I met the doctor two months ago.”

      “I can’t do this right now. The damage is done. I’m sorry, I love you, bye,” he said walking out the door.

      You took a deep breathe to calm yourself down. You weren’t angry at him, but your feelings were hurt. You felt like the procedure was a big deal, and not only did he forget, he scheduled his own procedure for the same day so he wouldn’t be able to take care of you. You wouldn’t be able to take care of him either. But Tom was right, the damage was done, and you just had to move on from it.

. . .

      The day of your procedures had come, and you were anxious to get it over with. You looked at Tom from your side of the bed as he flipped over to look at you.

      “Morning, Love,” he said to you sleepily, his voice much deeper and raspier than normal.

      “Morning,” you replied to him softly as you were not a morning person.

      “Ready to go get these teeth out?” He asked you as you made a face.

      “Ready as I’ll ever be,” you said and moved to get out of bed. You got brushed you teeth, threw on some sweats and a tee, and pulled your hair into a messy bun. Tom followed your lead, throughing on some sweats and a hoodie as you heard the door open.

      “Where are my two patients,” you heard Harry yell out. You smiled as you and Tom made your way to meet him in the living room. You greeted him with a hug and you were on your way.

       Once you arrived to the facility, you and Tom were asked to fill out some paper work before you were called back. You were called back first. You looked at Tom as you stood up. He held your hand and told you he would see you when you finished. You softly smiled as you walked toward the doctor, out of his sight.

       You sat down in the chair as the nurse put an oxygen mask around your nose and heart monitors on your chest. The doctor started an IV in your arm, and you remember the telling you to open you mouth, putting in a block to keep it open, as you fell unconscious.

      You woke up later to a woman tapping your shoulder.

      “You feel okay?” She asked you sweetly and you nodded, still feeling tired from the anesthesia. “Perfect, let me help you to your car.” She grabbed your arm and you leaned on her as you headed to the car outside. You saw Harry in the drivers seat along with Tom in the back. You sat down next to him and the lady said her farewells as she closed the door and Harry drove off.

      Tom put a hand on your thigh as you leaned your head against the window. And started to fall back to sleep.

      You were woken up again as you got home. Harry did as the nurse did, and practically carried you into the house were you and Tom both plopped onto the couch.

      “Right,” Harry said. “Sam and Harrison are going to be here soon to help out, and they’ll have your medicine.”

      “I want to lay down,” you told Harry, the words muffled by the gauze in your mouth.

      “You can’t lay down yet, just hold tight.” He walked away for a second. You huffed and leaned against Tom’s shoulder and closed your eyes. A few seconds later you felt the weight of warm blankets being placed over your body. You adjusted them to your liking then fell back asleep.

      You woke up to Sam and Harrison entering your house. They waved at you and asked how you were feeling. You felt your face and told them you were numb a-f. They laughed and Sam asked if you wanted your gauze changed. You nodded and as he went to get the new gauze, you looked to your left and saw Tom sound asleep.

      “Alright, let me see,” Sam said coming up to you. He took the bloody gauze out of your mouth and put new rolled pieces in.

      “Are you going to change Tom’s too?” You asked him. Even though you were asleep, you were sure his hadn’t been changed since your were.

      “As soon as he wakes up we will,” he assured you. “Do you need anything else right now?”

      “Will you put on a movie?” You asked while cuddling back into Tom’s side.

      “Of course, what do you want to watch?”

      “I don’t really care, just something.” This caused Harrison to perk up. He said there was some movie he had really been wanting to watch recently, and asked if you were okay with watching that. You told him you were and he excitedly started it.

      Not long into the movie you felt Tom wake up. He looked at you and the boys. “Did you start a party without me?”

      “Yep, sorry you missed it,” Harry told him, laughing. Sam stood up and went to get the gauze for Tom to change out as he promised. He also brought your medicine to keep the pain as minimal as possible.

      “You doing good, darling?” Tom asked looking at you while he rubbed your arm.

      “Yeah, what about you?”

      “I’m good. That was probably the best nap of my life.”

      “I heard that,” you said. You had honestly never felt so rested. “Can I have something to eat?” You asked anyone.

      “Yeah, there’s ice cream and maccorroni,” Harry informer you.

      “Ice cream,” You said with a gasp. Although you hadn’t started to hurt too bad yet, the thought of the cold, soft dessert in your mouth was enough to get you excited.

      “I’ll take some too, bro!” Tom called after Sam as he went to fetch the ice cream for you.

       “When we were at the dentist, how long before me were you done?” You asked Tom.

      “I’m not sure, a bit?” He answered you. “I didn’t take as long because you got all four of yours removed and I only had one removed today. They had me set up in a bed while we waited for you- that’s where most of my loopiness came out.”

       “Oh yeah! I recorded it to post. It was amazing,” Harrison said while handing you his phone. You pressed play on the video of Tom where you could see him slowly, but surely try to sit up. Once he managed to get himself up, he raised his ice pack to his face, saying ‘hello’ like it was his phone. He then faded out and fell back against the bed.

      “Aw, Tom,” You said laughing.

      “I think I deserve a kiss for that,” Tom said matter-of-factly.

      You looked at him like he was crazy, “my nose down is completely numb, that’s not gonna work.”

      “And I’m only partially numb, it’ll be fine,” he argued. “It doesn’t hurt to try.”

      “Whatever,” You said as he pressed his lips to yours. “That was weird,” you told him when he pulled back.

      “Yeah it was, my bad,” he told you.

      “Not happening again.”

      “Never,” he agreed making the three boys laugh at you two.

I had no idea how to end this, and I’m not proud of this. Hope someone likes it:)

I also understand that other countries don’t have the same wisdom teeth extraction process, but this is what I know, and this was my experience so don’t come for my neck please:)

Also, fun fact: When I got my wisdom teeth removed, the day after Tom, I asked my mom toto put Spiderman Homecoming on for me to watch, but the anesthesia kicked my ass so I only saw Michael Keaton at the beginning and Tom under a pile of rubble at the end. 

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland blurb #tom holland x reader

[pabitcravesteeth]

Kamal had never felt so heavy, yet so light at the same time. His senses were dulled and he felt numb, adrift on Martha's breath. He, along with everyone else trapped in this facility, were helpless to watch as Martha was sent into overdrive during the “Big Event” and she pumped out as much laughing gas as her mechanical parts could. Some of the Habiticians tried to run, some even tried to fight Martha, but others like him just accepted that this was the end and let the gas take them.

Kamal lost consciousness on the roof, but now found himself strapped to a chair as he blinked and shook away the effects of the numbing gas. His vision had blurred but he could recognize that he was in the office. The sight made Kamal's stomach rumble and he clamped his jaws together to work himself out of purging his system. The more his nerves woke up the worse his anxiety became.

He was scared.

Where was Dr. Habit? He'd already gassed everyone in the Habitat and was presumably going to perform some kind of tooth related procedure on them, but then what? 

Why? 

Why was he doing this? Kamal bit his lip and tried to push away the scary scenarios and images that flashed in his mind, but he couldn't help it. Surely Boris wouldn't actually hurt anybody...right? Right?

Kamal nearly bit through his lip when the door opened and in skipped the Doctor, himself. Kamal's face paled when they made eye contact but fought to hide his fear.

"O, Kamal! You're awake! 'How' was your litel nap? You weren't supposed to 'wake' up yet." Dr. Habit's demeanor didn't match the situation at all. He made it seem as though Kamal was here for an actual checkup instead of basically holding him hostage.

"Doc. You've gotta tell me what's going on. Why are you doing this? What did you do with everyone? What...are you going to do to-" Kamal began, but was cut off when Habit pressed a finger to his lips. "Kamal, Kamal, Kamal. Alwayz asking questions. Alwais worrying. Just sit back n' relax! 'I' will take care of you...and all the other Habiticians as well :-) " Habit flashed a very toothy smile and pat the top of Kamal's head before taking a comically large step back to reach the sink behind him to wash his hands.  

"Doc, please. I mean it. What are you going to do to us? Why are you doing this? Are you going to tell me what's going on?" Kamal asked while trying to wriggle his hands out of his restraints. His fingers had gone fuzzy from their limited circulation. Habit really did not want him to get away, apparently. Kamal nearly jumped out of his skin when he looked back up at Habit, whose head had turned nearly completely around to face him while his back was still turned. He slips on a pair of gloves without looking. "Kamal, my 'friend', I told you to knot worry! However, I will indulge you since I know you will keep azking me." Habit's arm seemingly stretched halfway across the room to grab an office chair to pull it over. He sat in it backwards and rested his arms on the back of the chair without breaking eye contact with Kamal. Honestly, this imagery combined with the effects of the gas was terrifying.

"So." Dr. Habit began "Why lure all these frowners here in one place? I am a dentist, not a psychiatrist! Teeth are mine profession, not sad people, so why bother with them? Well, my curious cat assistant! I had an idea! A vision! A dream that I would make a reality! I would make the Habitat and begin rounding up these sad people to use them to make more smiles in the world!" Habit had to press a finger against Kamal's mouth again when he saw him open it to interrupt him.

"Shushy! Not 'done' yet. All sad people are capable of smiling, but they refuse! So sad! So sad that they're so greedy! They keep their smiles to themselves while not everyone is as lucky. Some people want to smile but can't! It's not fair that sad people have smiles but aren't using them! Sad people arm't using their teeth, so they won't miss them!" Dr. Habit's lips peeled back to reveal rows upon rows of teeth implanted into the mad doctor's own gums.

"Wait! So you're going to steal my teeth?!" Kamal yelled and began to fight against the straps on his arms. Habit rolled his chair back to avoid Kamal's flailing legs, but did not break his grimace of a smile. "Now, now, dear friend. It won't be so bad! Your teeth might have gotten a little brown, but they can still be cleaned off. Don't be scared! I promise I won't hurt you. This messsy busy-ness will all be over soon." Habit's attempts to soothe his patient fell flat when he fished around in a drawer to pull out a pair of pliers.

"Wait. You're serious about this? Doc, you just can't steal other people's teeth! This is insane! I...I thought we were friends, Habit..." Kamal had to think fast. Not only was his mouth on the line, so was everyone else's. Habit was going to keep doing this unless someone stopped him.

"Oh, Kamal. You are my friend! I'm doing this for you, and so many people! You will help me make so many people habby!" "Hab...Boris. If you cared about me, you wouldn't hurt me. You...don't want to hurt me, right? This will hurt me, man." "I'm not going 2 hurt you, friend! I will be very gentle! You won't feel it and then I'll let you go! You don't have to stay, but I won't mind if you stayed! Now be good and hold...still?" Habit whirled around to face Kamal again, but upon opening his eyes did his smiley façade finally fall.

Tears streamed down Kamal's face and his breathing turned shaky and heavy. His face had paled and his hands shook. Habit took a step forward but that only made Kamal use his legs to push his body further back into the leather of the chair to get as much distance between himself and the doctor and his pliers. "Are you...afraid of me, Kamal?" "YES! I'm afraid of you, Boris! What kind of question is that?! You just told me you wanted to take my teeth! Am I your friend? Am I really a person to you, or-or am I just teeth for you to steal? I know you're better than this! Please...just let me go..." Kamal's head and shoulders drooped and he couldn't hold his sobs back any longer. Habit turned to the window as the sun began to rise. He did not see himself reflected in the glass...he saw his father instead, grimacing a wide smile at him and holding pliers as well. The manifestation of his father seemed to be encouraging him to commit this violence against someone else. He gestured to Kamal and snapped the pliers at Habit.

Habit looked at the pliers in his hand and gulped. Had he truly become a monster like his father? He was really going to do something horrible to someone he claimed to care about, wasn't he? His father meant to hurt people, but not Boris! Boris never meant to hurt anyone...but did that really matter? Pain was pain.

"Kamal...please don't cry. I don't want you to be frightened. I...I won't take your teeth. I'm sorry, friend." Habit put the pliers back in the drawer and removed his gloves. He timidly reached out to undo the restraints that pinned Kamal to the chair. Habit didn't mean to scare anyone to tears. He felt awful when he felt Kamal's arm flinch when he touched him. Kamal's fingers had dug into the armrests so hard, his knuckles had turned white and he actually managed to puncture the leather. When Habit undid the leather straps, Kamal's grip slowly softened. He flexed his fingers to relax his muscles and to get blood flowing again. He had to take deep breaths to regain composure and calm down. He wouldn't look up at Habit. Even if his former boss spared him, he was still only seconds away from ripping out his teeth and tossing him aside to make room for his next victim. He couldn't forgive Habit for this, but he didn't hate him.

"...You don't have to stay, Kamal. You are free to go back home and...so is everyone else. I won't take your teeth. I'm sorry I put you through all of this. You deserved none of it. I'm such a dunce...so stupid! I really...have turned into my father, haven't I?" Habit turned to open the door to let Kamal out. He couldn't look at him. He never expected to feel a hand run up his back in a comforting gesture.

"You're not stupid, Boris. This is a dumb thing you did, but you're not dumb. You're also not your father. He hurt you, but you didn't hurt me. You kept your promise. The cycle ends with you, you know. I know you just want to help people, but there's more to smiles than just teeth." Habit knew Kamal wanted to cheer him up, but he just didn't feel good at all. He truly didn't deserve to have someone like Kamal in his life. He'd made fun of him, gassed him, tied him up, and nearly pulled his teeth out and the first thing Kamal does when he's free is try to cheer him up. He'd completely understand if Kamal came at him with the pliers instead, but he didn't. Habit felt like he deserved it, anyway.

"We should go check on everyone. When they wake up, you should apologize. Don't tell them you were going to raid their mouths, though. We're skipping that part. Once we get all that sorted out, we're finding you a shrink."

#s4m #smile for me game #sfmweek2019 #habit almost steals kamal's teeth #but nobody gets hurt #i forgot to do this yesterday #fanfiction #but just a small one #let me know if i need to tag anything because it is slightly spooky #nothing starts a heel face turn quite like seeing someone cry

[amaranthinecanicular]

Jack of all trades. Enough people have called him that over the years, usually with intent to flatter. Maybe they don't know the other half of the phrase. Maybe they just choose to ignore it. Either way, Sero came to terms long ago with how well it fit, like a second skin, like a worn and comfortable uniform: jack of all trades, master of none.

----

“Sero has a crush on his dentist,” says Kaminari.

“Oh, really? Congrats, man!” says Kirishima. “What's his name?”

“Dentists make good money,” says Mina. “Is he cute?”

“Who the fuck cares?” says Bakugou. Then he says nothing else because he's tearing into his burger.

“I don't have a crush on my dentist,” says Sero, not that anyone listens. He tears into his burger too, with more dedication than he affords most burgers. It's just a really good burger. Honestly.

Kaminari elects to answer for him, because Kaminari is a terrible friend. “His name's Skye. He's American. And as for cute--” He digs his phone out of his pocket and opens a picture of Dr. Skye, mid-teeth cleaning. When the hell did he take that? How the hell did he take that?

“I did some reconnaissance,” says Kaminari, guessing at Sero’s question. “My gums bled all over the place but it was totally worth it.”

“Oh my god, I know him!” says Mina, snatching the phone. “He was on all those teeth whitening ads, with the catchy jingle!”

She tilts the screen toward Kirishima, who whistles. “Nice, Sero. He is cute,”

The phone vanishes from both their hands to detonate neatly in Bakugou’s fist.

“Who. The fuck. Cares?” he growls, and Sero has never been more grateful for his jealous streak. Kirishima likes it too, though for different reasons, which he makes known by sprawling backward into Bakugou’s lap and cooing, “Aw, babe, you're so cute when you're jealous!”

Kaminari is not as endeared. “That's the third one this month, Bakugou,” he says, his voice a pitiful mix of mournful and resigned. “At least I've got a warranty this time.”

Mina puts her chin in her hands and bats her eyelashes. It’s exactly as cute as she thinks it is, but Sero has had years to develop immunity. “Have you asked him out yet?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Probably because I don't have a crush on my dentist.” Except how he does. He totally does have a crush on his dentist.

“Dude.” Kaminari stops pouting long enough to level him a flat look. “You get a cleaning every three weeks. Your teeth are fabulous, your wallet is empty, and you have a crush on your dentist. Ask him out.”

There's a very special type of burn in Sero’s chest to hear Kaminari say that. Dry, crackling heat, like an electric fire. He puts his face in his hands and presses the burning back down, away from his eyes.

“I was drunk when I told you all that. It’s more complicated than you think.”

He hears Mina:  “How is it complicated? You’re a catch. Just ask him out next time you see him!”

And Kirishima: “Even if he says no--which he shouldn’t, because Mina’s right, you’re a total catch--but even if he does, he’ll appreciate your honesty. Nothing manlier than honesty and respect.”

And Bakugou: “Either way you’ll get to stop wasting your cash like a chump and I’ll get to stop hearing about this bullshit.”

And Kaminari: “So you do like him.”

That’s the one he looks up for. Through his fingers he imagines a strangeness to Kaminari’s expression. A smile, just a little too crooked. Electric-eyed and bright. His normal look, really. It only looks strange for the wearing itself--for the deliberate way he seems to pull it on, less natural, more affected, like a costume and mask. Sero might think Kaminari was displeased with his answer if only he weren’t imagining it all.

“It’s complicated,” Sero says again, because it is. Because he does have a crush on his dentist, sure, but a crush on a near-stranger for the past four months is nothing compared to a crush on one’s best friend. More than a crush. For over a decade.

Kaminari looks like he has something else to say--maybe Sero’s imagining that too--but it's interrupted by a brave gaggle of fans, the first of several to approach. Someone says, “The Ground Zero Agency, here, in our burger joint!” It's one of those days where everyone at the table but Sero is recognized, but hey, that's okay. He's used to it.

Sero finishes his burger.

----

His dentist calls him Jack.

He doesn't know why. He doesn't ask. Jack could mean a lot of things. He's heard that some people use it as a nickname for strangers in America. Or it could be that Dr. Skye honestly forgot his name. That wouldn't be so surprising--it's not like Sero’s very famous, or even particularly recognizable. Nothing like everyone else at the agency. Between plain and forgettable, it's anyone's guess which he's been called more often.

“Hey, Jack!” says Dr. Skye. His smile is something close to blinding, but Sero is self aware enough to know that it’s probably more to do with the man’s quirk than genuine joy at seeing him again. He’s got a ton of other patients and he probably smiles the same way at them.

“Hey there, Doc,” says Sero. One nickname for another. “Fancy meeting you here.”

It's a dumb joke, if it even counts as a joke at all, but Skye snickers the same way he always does. And the way he says, “I missed my favorite patient. How you been?” is the same too. Probably par for the course. Probably Dr. Skye makes everyone feels so special.

But, well. Not everyone makes Sero “Jack of All Trades” Hanta feel special. Just Kaminari and Skye, mostly.

“Fine,” says Sero, even though it hasn't really. He was on a late night talk show a few nights ago with Kaminari, the host of which has it out for him. But Skye doesn't need to know that. “Just fine. You?”

Skye peers into Sero’s mouth and pokes around and hums a little. “Pretty good! Filled in a cavity for Lemillion. Have I told you I'm Lemillion’s dentist?”

Sero’s answer is unintelligible, which is for the better because he doesn't want to tell Skye that he's told him that six times already. Lemillion was actually the one who referred Sero to Skye. Not that Skye knows this, either, and Sero would like to keep it that way.

“But his pearly whites have nothing on yours,” Skye continues. “Which are perfect as always, by the way. Best I've ever seen. Aside from mine, of course.” He likes that joke. Sero doesn't mind because it's objectively true.

On the TV posted in the back corner of the office an ad comes on for a popular late-night talk show. Clips of Kaminari’s face flicker over the screen, and then his own. Sero’s pulse picks up but the TV is muted and Skye has his back to it.

“So, got any plans this weekend?” Skye says, and the ad ends. If Sero is visibly relieved then Skye is too distracted by the inside of his mouth to notice.

“Nuh muh,” says Sero. The ad comes on again. That’s just not fair.

“I don’t either. Usually my schedule is jam packed but it’s nice to have some free time, right?”

Sero makes a croaky, squeaky sort of sound. Skye nods like this is an acceptable human answer, and Sero would be embarrassed if he weren’t kind of freaking out. Something terrible will happen if Skye finds out that he is Cellophane. He knows it. Skye will be disappointed that of all the heroes he works with it’s Sero that has a crush on him, or he’ll make some awful joke about how Jack is an even more fitting nickname than he thought, or he’ll bust out a villain costume and fry Sero in the overstuffed dentist chair. Maybe not that last one so much but he’s panicking and Skye is turning around to nab a paper cup for Sero to spit in and the ad is playing for a third time what the hell is the network that desperate for viewers—

“Do you want to go out with me on Saturday?” someone says. He says. He, Sero Hanta, just said that. Gargled, really.

Skye stops with his body half turned and the ad finally, finally gives way to a commercial for a revolutionary new vacuum cleaner. “Come again?”

“Uh.” Sero reaches past him and plucks the paper cup from his hand. He spits very suavely into it. Except for how that’s a filthy lie because no one on earth can do that. “Um. I was thinking, maybe. Since we’re both free. Maybe we could get dinner on Saturday? Together? Or something?”

He wishes Bakugou were here. Bakugou would put him out of his misery. But to his eternal surprise, Skye does not laugh him out of the office. He does not grimace or lose his temper, which was probably an unreasonable reaction to fear. Instead he says, “Yeah. Yes. That sounds great.”

“Seriously?” Wait. No. That’s. That can’t be right. “That worked? Like. Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider? That was the least smooth I’ve ever been.”

Skye takes a seat on his work stool and quirks one brow. “Well, maybe not now that you’re trying to talk me out of it.”

Maybe this isn’t as much of a disaster as Sero thought. “Maybe it was a test. Maybe I don’t want to go out with someone who would say yes to such a terrible proposition.”

“That’s too bad. I had the perfect place in mind, I’ve been wanting to take you for a while.”

Sero smiles, big and minty. “Really?”

Skye smiles too, and it is quite literally blinding. Sero doesn’t mind. “Yes.”

Sero has never been so happy to pay twenty two thousand yen. He’s happy. He is. He can’t wait for Saturday.

He can’t think of anything but Kaminari.

----

Listen, it’s not like Sero hasn’t tried to move on. He has. He’s tried. Ten years is longer than he planned to hold a candle for anyone. There was a cute paramedic eight years ago, and a police officer who tried to arrest him because she thought he was a vigilante seven years ago. A fellow hero five years ago. A talented chef three years ago. A museum curator two years ago.

With the exception of the one or two who were trying to use him to get to the rest of the agency, Sero torpedoed those relationships all on his own. He’d like to blame Kaminari, for always showing up at exactly the wrong moment and being charming and dumb and incorrigible and earnest and saying just the right thing to make Sero’s smile real, but when it comes down to it all those people deserved better than what Sero could give them.

He’s tried to move on. He has. That doesn’t mean he was successful.

----

“So you're really giving up on Kaminari?”

Mina is helping him pick an outfit. Her words. Sero would call it lounging on his bed and eating his food and reading his magazines. He never explicitly told her about his feelings for Kaminari, but Mina has always had a way with matters of the heart, and she sniffed it out by their second year at UA. Honestly he's lucky he managed to keep Skye from her for as long as he has.

He pulls out a yellow v-neck and says, “Nothing to give up on. It's not like I ever had a chance.”

“Didn't he kiss you in our third year?” She flips a page in the magazine too casually.

“Yeah, and then he started talking about Jirou.” He thinks about that kiss more often than he'd like to admit. The stuff after that—Jirou’s name in the mouth that had just been on his, Sero’s heart crumbling at the edges—not so much.

“Talk is cheap. A kiss is action.”

“Action from ten years ago. And dating Jirou right after that counts as action too, doesn’t it?”

Mina deigns to give him a flat look over her magazine. “One date, and they never even kissed. Not the same thing.”

“Yeah, well.” He leaves it at that and weighs the v-neck against a dark blue turtleneck. He’s always liked it, but it’s tough to get around his elbows so he doesn’t wear it often. Honestly it would probably look better on Todoroki, which is good because Todoroki isn’t the type to look down his nose at a hand me down gift. “Which one do you think?”

“Hm. Neither.”

“What? That wasn’t one of the options,”

“And you're sure Skye doesn't know you're a hero?”

He gives up on the idea of looking his best with a sigh. “Pretty sure.”

“How does that work? Does he just not care about your life?”

“Sure he does. He asked what I do, I told him that I deal with public safety.”

“And that's it? He never asked you more about it?”

No, he didn’t. Instead he said that he worked in public safety too, plaque can be dangerous, and did Sero know he was Lemillion’s dentist? “What's with the third degree? I thought you were rooting for him. Kaminari is.”

He manages to keep the bitterness from his voice because he isn’t bitter about it. It’s good that Kaminari is in his corner. Sure, it burns a little, but he’s not bitter. Why should he be? It’s for the better.

...He will admit, though, that he’d have preferred Kaminari not know about it at all. Sero hadn't even meant to tell him, is the thing. They were celebrating the interview with tacos and beer, and they were drunk and happy. Leaning on each other in Kaminari’s apartment. Whispering and giggling like teenagers. It was nice. It was so nice. And it could have stayed that way if Sero had just kept his mouth shut, but some stupid self-sabotaging corner of his mind blurted, “So I think I have a crush on my dentist,” and then his mouth blurted it too.

He still doesn't know what he expected to happen. His fool heart was probably hoping Kaminari would get jealous and swoop in for a kiss—they were close enough, could smell the alcohol and Sriracha on each other's breath—but instead Kaminari peeled himself from Sero’s side and said, “Congrats, man. Tell me all about it.”

He doesn’t feel bitter about it. Just stupid. Just sad.

Mina shuts her magazine. She bounces up and throws her arms around Sero’s middle, rests her chin on his shoulder and meets his eyes in the wardrobe mirror. She must be on her tiptoes. “Oh, honey, I just want someone who appreciates you for you.”

He almost says that's why he lied in the first place. It's probably what she thinks anyway. Plenty of heroes are romantically anonymous, trying to make sure they're loved for their personalities instead of their celebrity status. Mina doesn’t need to know that Sero isn’t out to pretend he’s less than Cellophane, professional Jack of All Trades. She doesn’t need to know he’s pretending he’s more.

But he doesn’t like to lie to Mina, so instead he says, “I think he does, really. Thank you, Mina.”

She doesn’t look entirely convinced, but she’s a good friend, and so she drops it. Plucks both shirts from his hands and pulls out a mossy green button down instead. The cuffs can be unbuttoned and rolled up with ease over his elbows. With one hand he takes the hangar and with the other he pulls Mina close.

“The incomparable Alien Queen, saving the day as always.”

“I hope he deserves you,” she sighs, and squeezes him tight. “The incomparable Cellophane.”

To keep from laughing at the absurdity of that statement Sero drops a kiss on her head and says nothing at all.

----

Sero thinks there are probably better ways to start a date than feeling supremely underdressed.

Skye had said nice but casual, Mina’s outfit seemed perfect. They agreed to meet at the restaurant, a comfortable plan that lets Sero work up his nerve as he makes the short tape swing over. But then he gets there, and Skye is already waiting in a sparkly tux that reminds him of Aoyama but classier, and Sero is struck by a sinking sense of foreboding. They head inside and sure enough there are chandeliers, and suit jackets, and long sweeping gowns. The lighting is low and the balconies are high and there's a beautiful woman crooning into a microphone, with shimmering clones of herself singing backup vocals. The waiters here are the kind that pull out Sero’s seat for him and never smile. Which is made more intimidating by the fact that their table is located on a private balcony, which apparently exists for the sole purpose of overlooking all the extravagance and basking in the knowledge that it's above even that.

Underdressed is. A word. For how he's feeling.

The waiter—is he a waiter? He looks more official than that, white suit instead of black, greeted Skye with groveling familiarity—starts reciting the wines without use of a menu and Sero tries to be positive. There are worse ways to start a date, too. Sure it's a little rich for his blood, but it's not like Skye looks embarrassed to be seen with him. In fact he'd smiled when they met, and told him he looked great. Never mind that no one else is wearing their sleeves rolled up, and his elbows feel clunkier than ever.

“So what do you think?” Skye is watching him expectantly. The maybe-not-a-waiter is watching him expectantly too. Sero can't remember any of the wines because he's pretty sure they were all in French (Aoyama would love it here, really) so he shrugs and says, “They all sound great. Why don't you pick?”

He has the feeling this was the right decision because Skye turns and starts making snappy orders in French that he definitely had prepared. He comes here a lot, is what this says. He's trying to impress.

Once the waiter(?) trots away Skye leans conspiratorially across the table. “It usually takes three months to get a reservation here, but I whiten the manager’s teeth.” The manager, of course, that's who he was. Some appetizers land on the table, evidently on the house. Skye raises his eyebrows and spreads out his hands. “Nice, right?”

Sero has no idea what the appetizer is. It's gray and goopy with one sprig of mint or maybe cilantro on top and it's probably the most expensive bite he's ever going to have in his life. Should that make it more appetizing? Nice right, Skye had said, and Sero has the opportunity to be honest, to lie, or to deflect with a joke.

“Yeah, it's nice, but I think you could have done better. I mean, they didn't even chew my food and feed me like a baby bird.”

Skye laughs, bright and genuine, head thrown back, and relief floods Sero’s insides. He remembers: Skye likes him. Really likes him. And he likes Skye. This is doable. This can work.

And it does, for a while. Sero tells heroic anecdotes (with some of the more heroic details fudged). “So the power’s out, and we need to see in order to… clean up the mess, right? My coworker’s static shock quirk can light things up for a second, but not enough. So he decides the best way, the only way to get the power going is to stick his tongue in an outlet.”

More or less how it happened. Static shock is close enough to electricity and the mess they were cleaning up was actually a villain that thrived in pitch darkness. The generated light from Bakugou and Kaminari’s quirks were enough to hold him back but not enough to beat him, so Kaminari went for it. Overloaded the power for the whole block. Put him in the hospital for two days and completely fried his tongue for two weeks. Later he slurred to Sero that it was worth it because he’d always wanted to do that.

To counter, Skye tells funny stories that might blur the line of patient confidentiality. “I took out Present Mic’s wisdom teeth a few years ago. Couldn’t hear for week after that,” he says, and Sero snorts on his wine. That sounds about right.

Over the main course they debate what materials Skye can bite through. Literally anything, according to Skye, and Sero is halfway to convincing Skye to bite through a fork when someone fancy and expensive looking comes over to rub elbows. With Skye, specifically. She ignores Sero. Which is fine, because it allows Sero to focus on his meal, and what he’s going to do after he finishes these seriously tiny portions. There’s no way he won’t still be hungry. Skye makes him a valiant but ultimately futile effort to include him in the conversation. Hey, it’s the thought that counts.

“I'm surprised she didn’t ask for your autograph,” Skye says, once the woman has given him her card and sauntered away. Sero laughs.

“One of the perks of dating me: you definitely don't have to worry about paparazzi.” He stops laughing. Blinks. “Wait, you know I'm a hero?”

Skye gives him a look that lands squarely between incredulous and amused. “Of course I do. You're kind of a celebrity.”

“Kind of,” Sero emphasizes, but he feels like he's glowing, like a secondary quirk has started up just behind his sternum. Skye knows. He’s known all along and he still wants to be with him. Skye warms too, maybe to see that his comment went over so well, and he continues.

“You're too modest. You're one of the top twenty heroes, and a member of the number one agency in the country. Honestly, I'm a little starstruck by you. Cellophane, Taping Hero, Jack of All Trades. Why do you think I call you Jack?”

That sweet, glowing warmth snuffs out.

“Ah, right,” Sero says. “Right. Thank you,”

Sero thinks of Kaminari. You hate it when they call you that, he'd said on the night of the talk show.

“And you do have the best smile,” Skye continues, oblivious. He winks. “After me, of course.”

“Thank you,” Sero says again. Kaminari once told him he had the best smile. No after me or except for. He was drunk and his cheeks were pink and his hands were sweaty. No matter how many times Sero told himself afterward that it was just sloppy drunken affection, he was never able to convince himself that Kaminari had been anything but sincere.

Sero tries his best to stay present through the rest of the meal, but it's hard. Now that Kaminari has smiled against the back of his eyelids it's more difficult to keep him out. When the waitstaff sweeps back in to check on them and refill their glasses, silent and efficient to the point of being cold, Sero thinks again of how very much he feels out of place. The difference is that now he imagines where Kaminari would have taken him. A local taco place, probably. Crowded and a little too loud. Casual, comfortable, warm.

Dinner winds down. They talk about other things. Sero sees some flaws in Skye’s personality now. Some stains in the white of his teeth. (Metaphorically. He doesn't think Skye’s teeth actually can stain.) He's a little bit arrogant, a little bit self-centered. He likes to flaunt his money. But these are just the natural flaws that come with being human--he's still kind, still funny and charming, and Sero is very suddenly, very starkly aware that he could fall in love with him. He's just not sure if he wants to.

They have coffee, share a dessert. If Sero starts to pull away, Skye doesn't seem to notice. When they leave the manager comes by to see them off and Skye leaves a generous tip. They walk to Skye’s house, which is bigger and fancier than Sero thought Tokyo had room for, and on the doorstep Skye kisses him.

There are sparks. He won't lie about that. The problem is that sparks only make him think of one person.

“Ah,” says Skye, and steps away. Sero opens his eyes.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing from my end.” Skye watches him. He takes another step back. “There's someone else, huh?”

What? “What? That's not--” What? “I don't--”

Skye lets him stutter, but Sero realizes as he does that his heart has been on his sleeve for the past few minutes--maybe for longer--and it's too late to tuck it away now. He falters, then stops. They stand there for a few seconds, both watching the ground.

“I'm sorry,” he says, finally. “I really like you, Skye, I just…”

“You seemed a little distant near the end there. Unfinished business with someone?” Sero hesitates, then nods. “Is it Chargebolt?”

Sero reels. Metaphorically, mostly, but maybe a little bit literally. He opens his mouth but Skye raises a hand, which is good, because he has no idea what he would have said.

“You don't have to answer that. It's just--I told you I've seen you on TV, you're kind of famous, and sometimes the way you look at him--” He shakes his head. “Sorry. It's not really my place.”

“You're really great, Skye,” Sero says, because he feels like garbage and he doesn't think apologizing again will help either of them. “I mean really, really great. I wouldn't have come out tonight if I didn't think so. You… you deserve someone just as great as you, who can appreciate you for how great you are.”

“Yeah. Sounds great.” Skye smiles, though it seems somewhat dampened. He opens the door and steps backward through it into a rectangle of light. “Hey, I hope you end up happy, Jack. You deserve someone great too. Don't forget to floss,”

It's such an unexpected parting shot that Sero can't help but laugh, and Skye laughs too, and the door closes, and Sero is still chuckling but really he just wants to call Kaminari and cry. He thinks about taping his way home, and decides to walk instead. He can’t imagine feeling more awful than he does in this moment.

Then the alert comes in.

----

Jack of all trades. Enough people have called him that over the years, usually with intent to flatter. Maybe they don't know the other half of the phrase. Maybe they just choose to ignore it. Either way, Sero came to terms long ago with how well it fit, like a second skin, like a worn and comfortable uniform: jack of all trades, master of none.

And he isn't. He knows he isn't. He's a solid pretty good at everything, which is usually enough. He's learned how to use Pretty Good at Everything to his advantage; he works at the top hero agency in the country (though depending on the day, the heroes in Midoriya’s agency beat them out) despite the fact that his individual stats are hands down the least impressive. But he's an excellent support hero, the best there is at backing up the star. He excels as a professional sidekick—the one thing he's best at. Most of the time he can think that without even a little bitterness. A brand's a brand, and he's more than lucky to have cultivated one at all.

This is what happened the night of the talk show:

It's not the first time he's been on this program. It's not even the second or third time. The showrunners have a good rapport with the Ground Zero Agency, so at least one member ends up in these very comfy interview chairs every few months. Even so, he can't bring himself to be surprised when the host asks him to introduce himself. “With us today we have pro heroes Chargebolt and…”

She pauses, tips her head. It's jealousy, he's pretty sure. Her quirk is kind of like his--prehensile hair that can whip out and grab things, she uses it to hold microphones for her guests--and she thinks she could do a better job at the Ground Zero Agency. She’s practically told him as much, though she was delirious with adrenaline and smoke at the time. Those were extenuating circumstances, and awkward as hell, just like this is shaping up to be. Oh well. He's good at smiling through awkward situations.

“Cellophane, the taping hero,” he says, to fill her expectant silence. He winks at the audience, shoots two goofy finger guns.

“Yes, and Cellophane.” Her voice flattens on his name. The applause reflects it, dialing down from enthusiastic to polite. But Kaminari whistles for him, which is silly and gratifying and makes Sero’s smile feel a little more real.

The host raises her eyebrows over her glasses. “And your quirk is…tape?”

“That's right.”  

“I see. Ladies and gentlemen, our local Jack of All Trades...”

Sero knows very suddenly that she's going to finish the phrase. He can already feel the eyes on him, the heavy beat of silence, the awkward little laugh bubbling in the back of his throat he'll use to fill it. It's going to be awful. He prepares himself to smile through it.

“Most valuable member of the team, right here,” says Kaminari, and the host is distracted.

“Is he?” She sounds dubious. Sero can understand that. Most valuable? He's valuable, sure, but most?

“Oh, far and away. He's the most versatile, the most rational. We'd be lost without him. But you know that already, huh? Remember that time he rescued you from that fire in the studio?”

A murmur ripples through the crowd. The host's face has gone startlingly pale. This was the incident that won the showrunners’ favor. It was also the incident that revealed the host’s resentment toward Sero. She'd asked them not to talk about it.

“You're selling yourself short, Chargebolt,” she says, evading his question all together. Her smile is tight and thin, lips barely moving. Kaminari’s smile dims. His eyes strike like flint in the light.

“I'm really not. I'm just showing Cellophane the respect he deserves.”

The host stares. Sero stares. Just like that Kaminari’s smile is back, a thousand watts beaming right at the audience.

“So let's show him some respect, huh?”

He starts clapping. The audience joins in, and so does the host, grudgingly. Sero is breathless with an emotion he can't name.

After the show is over and the autographs are signed and the host huffs past them, Sero catches Kaminari’s elbow. “Dude, what was all that?”

“I know, I know, it was petty. Aw man, Bakugou’s going to rip me a new one. Or maybe he’ll say it was about time.”

“It’s not like I don’t appreciate it, but you shouldn’t have done that,”

They exit the stage, leave the cameras and the oppressive heat of lights behind them. It takes Sero a moment to adjust but even in silhouette he can see the edge to Kaminari’s movements. The anxious flickering of his hands. Blue sparks at his fingertips. Agitation as he whips off the accessories of his costume, his glasses, his earpiece.

“I know, but she always does this, treats you like crap--”

“It's fine--”

“No, it's not fine. You hate it when they call you that.”

Sero stops walking. They're steps away from the changing room. Behind that door are their civilian clothes and their normal lives, and Kaminari’s hand is on the doorknob when he realizes that Sero is not with him. He turns. His face softens. His hand finds Sero’s hand, and for once he doesn't say a single thing as he opens the door and leads Sero through it.

----

The villain was robbing a bank with two accomplices. Technically Sero isn’t on call, but he’s made it a habit to tape his costume to an alley wall or rooftop when he’s out just in case. This was one of those cases--despite detouring back to the restaurant for his costume he’s still the first one on the scene by a long shot. Everyone else is busy or off duty or too far. Sometimes this happens. Sero’s dealt with worse.

Catching the first two was easy enough. There was a man with rubber limbs and another with mouths all over his body, neither of whom struck Sero as the brains of the operation. The last villain nearly got away in the chaos of the evacuation, but Sero caught up with her in the park across the street, trying to flee with a duffel bag full of money. She didn’t seem particularly unhappy that he found her.

She calls herself Amp, though her quirk seems to bear no similarity to Jirou’s. Not that Sero has a clear picture on what that quirk is. He's been holding her off on his own for fifteen minutes now, most of which has entailed them dancing around each other. Every time he tries to restrain her she fists her hands in his tape and a strange tingling sensation shivers up to him. He releases before the tingling turns into something worse, which he's certain it will, and then they’re back to square one.

“Remind me of your name, hero,” she says, bouncing back from a lunge. She unwinds another loose strip of tape from her wrists. “I told you mine, it's only fair.”

“Well, my mom told me not to talk to strangers, but since I really care about playing fair with villains--”

“No wait, don't tell me!” There's something wild in her eyes that makes him uneasy. They've been hopping around nonstop and she's barely winded. “I recognize you. Barely. Has anyone told you you're kind of plain? Don't worry, I'll get it,”

“Aw, you'll hurt my feelings.” He shoots low, yanks her ankles out from under her. Before she can get a hand in his tape he's released it, tries to pin her arms to her sides while she's freeing her legs--

Except she's not distracted. She catches the next string and tries to pull him off balance--pins and needles shoot up his arm, he detatches the tape--she springs for him as soon as she's loose, a hand reaching through his visor--

He tapes a lamppost and rips himself away. The air is sharp and too cold, on his face, in his lungs. Amp is laughing, tossing his helmet from hand to hand.

“I remember now!” she says. “You're from Ground Zero’s agency. You're not bad, but you're not great. Definitely not in the top ten. What do they call you again? Jack of all trades?”

“Got it in one.” Sero stands on the lamppost and he grins, and he catches his breath, and he considers his options. Not many. Kaminari and Mina are off duty. They might get an emergency alert, or see it on the news, but it’ll be a while. On the other hand Kirishima and Bakugou are busy with a villain across the city, though last he saw the HUD in his visor said they were on their way. Other heroes will assume they’ve got it handled, so no help there, but Red Riot and Ground Zero should be here any minute now. He should be relieved.

“There's more than that though, isn't there?” Amp taps her chin with one finger. Her smile is cruel. “Master of none, I think that's it. Figures I'd get the loser of the agency.”

“Pretty embarrassing that a loser’s kept you here for so long,  huh?”

Her eyes widen, her smile fixes on her face. She has an ego, he realizes, an exploitable one. He hops down and this time she leaps for him with less grace; he doesn’t manage to catch her as she stumbles past him but he snags the duffel bag. She cries out as he winds it up and sticks it to the top of the lamppost, out of her reach.

“You’re going to regret that,” she says. Her grin promises that much, and he has a sinking feeling she might be right, but he matches her smile tooth for tooth.

“That’s pretty unoriginal. I’m disappointed.”

“Fine. Then how about—”

Sero is spared whatever unsavory threat she was about to make by the explosive entrance of Bakugou and Kirishima. They barely look winded from their own fight; Sero is filled with relief and dread at the sight of them.

“Good job holding her on your own, Cellophane,” Kirishima says, and Bakugou says, “You had twenty minutes, Soy Sauce, why the fuck isn’t she down yet?”

Sero fills them in. “She calls herself Amp. I don't know what her quirk is but I think she needs direct touch to activate it.”

“Ooh, the number five hero and the number one hero, both here for little old me. How flattering!” Amp’s eyes flash. “Or was it number two today? I can never tell if you or Deku are on top.”

Bakugou growls, but Kirishima’s arm across his chest bars him from getting too close.

“Surrender,” Kirishima says. “You can't beat all three of us. Don't make this hard on yourself.”

“Hard on yourself, ha! That's a good one, Hardening Hero. I always liked you.” She winks. Bakugou growls louder. “I like you so much, in fact, that I'll listen to you. There's no way I can take on two top ten heroes.” A sharp little barb, but Sero’s used to the insult. “Take me in. I'll go peacefully.”

She pulls a pair of gloves from her pocket. Puts them on, holds out her hands, palms up.

The heroes share a few searching, suspicious looks; Amp waits patiently. Bakugou nods once in Sero’s direction, but when he lifts his arms and steps toward her--

“I was talking to Red Riot,” Amp snaps. Her hands are bare and facing him--he didn't even see her whip the gloves off. “Back off, Jack. I go peacefully with him or no deal.”

“She's bluffing and she's shitty at it,” says Bakugou. “Let's just knock her out and drag her ass to jail.”

She throws one hand in his direction. “That means you too, Number Two. It's Red Riot or I make your life hell and involve as many bystanders as possible.”

Bakugou looks more than willing to risk it, but Kirishima’s hand stops him again. Sero doesn't hear what he whispers but he can tell Bakugou doesn't like it. Still, he lowers his sparking hands to his sides, and Kirishima gives his shoulder a squeeze. He moves forward.

“Gloves on, Amp. Palms together, fingers folded.” To Sero he says, “Cellophane, some tape?”

Sero frowns between them--Amp’s smirk and Bakugou’s scowl and Kirishima’s private, reassuring smile. He doesn’t feel reassured. He’s not comfortable with this at all. He was fighting her for nearly half an hour and the sudden hairpin turn to docile screams trap. But he trusts Kirishima, and he trusts Bakugou who also trusts Kirishima, and he’s not a top ten hero like either of them, is he? So whose judgment matters more?

He slings Kirishima a long string of tape, who takes it and promptly winds it around Amp’s hands. She’s still smiling. Why won’t she stop smiling? Bakugou’s whole body is still with violent, uncut tension. Kirishima is tying off the tape, and it’s taking him too long, too long, Sero’s insides rattle when she leans forward to whisper something in his ear--

Bite, not whisper.

Kirishima screams, and he hardens, and he screams, and he goes Unbreakable, and he screams, and he--he hardens further, bulks out in geode fractals as he screams and screams and screams--

He's not the only one screaming. “I'll kill you!”

“Ground Zero, don’t--!”

It’s too late. Kirishima’s jagged body slices through the tape and gloves, and by then Bakugou has already exploded into Amp’s range. He's roaring, and she's laughing, and they're reaching for each other. Sero is reaching for them too, but he's not fast enough. He watches it happen in slow motion: Amp’s fingers brush Bakugou’s elbow, Bakugou’s hand detonates, Sero’s tape wraps around their waists, in that order. Bakugou’s hand sails past her ear and the explosion goes off behind her head and it grows, and grows, and grows until it engulfs the whole bank. Sero doesn’t have time to feel horror because the shockwave sends Bakugou and Amp flying. His arms burn to keep up with them, but just as he starts to reel them back in, the strange zing travels through the tape and shivers up all the bones in his right arm. He detatches from her before whatever happened to his teammates can happen to him. Amp hits the ground and lands in a roll, tape puddling around her ankles. Bakugou is a dead weight in Sero’s arms, the force of the explosion and the energy it zapped from him rendering him unconscious. Sero risks a glance over his shoulder: Kirishima is out too, blown back into another building, still monstrous.

But they’re both alive. That’s what Sero focuses on as Amp flashes bloody teeth in a ragged mouth. Hot fear fills up the hollow of his stomach, but they’re alive, and that’s all that matters.

“Looks like it’s just us again,” he says, biding time. The heat of the burning building buffets him, simmers away in his belly. He slings Bakugou a safe distance away; she tracks the motion with her eyes but doesn’t go after him. Good.

“Oh, yippee, just me and Mr. Average.” She rolls her eyes, but her smile turns indulgent. “Honestly, though, I was most impressed with you. Red Riot and Ground Zero were kind of a let down, huh?”

She’s trying to bait him, but he doesn’t have the luxury of being reckless right now. No one is coming to his rescue because no one has reason to believe all three of them couldn’t handle one bank robber. If he’s lucky someone will check out the explosion, but he can’t rely on that. For now it’s just him. Sero, Cellophane, Jack. Master of none.

He keeps his body firmly planted between her and his friends and grins as though his knees aren’t shaking.

“You are a brave one,” she says, sweetly. “For someone so much lower on the totem pole. After what I did to them, what do you think I can do to you?”

“I'll take my chances,” he says, and takes care to keep his tone light and dismissive. Without his helmet she can see all the teeth in his broad smile. “I mean, none of us have ever heard of you. So if I'm an average hero, relatively unknown, then I guess we make a good match.”

That does the trick: she barrels at him, full tilt. Reckless. Her focus is tunneled enough that when she deflects the tape going for her face, she doesn’t see the string going for her ankles. The tape only catches one foot but she’s down, winded and bloody. Both hands on the ground to steady her. This is his chance—if he can tape her hands up before she gets her bearings, he wins. He skids a few steps closer, aims and fires, with both arms.

They are a good match, really. He got her for being reckless. She gets him for being too eager.

Turns out she’s not very winded at all—bloody and wild-eyed, but not down for the count by any means. The tape circles her wrists but she twists one hand in it and tugs, sharply, stronger than he gave her credit for. Stupid. Amateur. He detaches too late. The momentum of her pull carries him through, drags him until they’re on their knees before one another. She snarls a hand in his hair and then—

Then Sero is unraveling. Unwinding. Unbecoming, entirely.

It's like his whole body wakes up and goes into overdrive. Like she just reached inside his chest and cranked some dial up to a thousand and blew a fuse, the machine in him smoking and spitting sparks and overheating and dying, dying, dying. Tape shoots from his arms until they burn, until his whole body burns, until he’s crying and vomiting and there’s nothing left to give. Then it keeps coming anyway.

He doesn’t know how long he’s suspended there, unspooling. His tape is everywhere, piled high around him, boxing him in. All he wants to do fall. Curl up on the floor in the billowing white nest of himself before there’s nothing left. She doesn’t let him--she’s standing now and her grip on his hair is the only thing holding him up. Sero gags, and then he chokes. For one horrific, blinding moment he knows that this is how he's going to die: on his knees, asphyxiating on his own bile, completely undone.

A weak jolt of electricity steals into his body, but for Amp it must be stronger. She yelps and lets go of his hair; he crumples in a heap of tape and bones. On the ground he convulses. He doesn't even have the energy to detatch.

“Cellophane!”

He knows that voice. He opens his eyes without realizing he closed them and the world is sideways now: Sero stares from a distant place at the two figures fast approaching, small but getting bigger. Mina, gliding across the rooftops with Kaminari held tight to her hip. He zaps them between buildings, and even from this distance Sero can read the horror on his face.

No. No, anyone but him. An amplification of Kaminari’s quirk--it would kill him and everyone in a five block radius. Either Amp doesn’t know or doesn’t care, because she’s running straight for him. Kaminari’s going to die. Mina’s going to die. Kirishima and Bakugou and all the civilians are going to die.

He twitches. The streamers of tape still attached to his body rustle just enough to catch the toe of Amp’s boot.

She goes down hard, sprawling, end over end and when she comes back up the blood on her face is bright and angry in the light of the fire. It's the first time he's seen her without a smile. That's a small victory on its own.

“You.” She growls it as he pushes himself to standing. It takes him three tries. “You just don't know when to quit, do you?”

That’s something he has going for him, he supposes. He may not be as determined as Midoriya, or as passionate as Bakugou, but he’s a hero. He’ll persevere all the same.

“You're not in the top ten,” she snarls. “You're barely even in the top twenty. Who do you think you are?”

“I'm Cellophane,” he rasps. “Jack of all trades and the hero who just beat you.”

He snaps all the tape tight tight tight, just once, and Amp shrieks as the avalanche buries her and pins her down. Her quirk is still in effect, Sero knows because tape keeps ribboning out of him like an open faucet, but at least he can't feel it. He can't really feel anything. And then the world is sideways again, because apparently he collapsed at some point when he wasn’t paying attention. From an echoey, greyscale place he watches smoke plume into the sky. Between one blink and the next Kaminari is there. His eyes are big and bright and amber in the glow of the fire, the only spot of color. He's holding Sero’s face in his hands. It might be romantic in a different context.

“Detatch your tape,” Kaminari says again--is it again? How many times has he said it? “Cellophane--Sero, please, you have to--”

“Move,” Mina shoulders him out of the way. Maybe she melts through the tape or maybe she doesn't. He can't tell. He can't tell much of anything anymore. The world winks out, and Sero thinks, finally.

----

Of course it’s disorienting at first, but it doesn’t take too long for Sero to piece together that he’s in a hospital. He’s been in enough of them to know. Everything hurts, but in a drug-dulled kind of way, so it could probably be worse. Tubes and needles everywhere. There’s a blob of yellow at his bedside, and a fuzzy warmth in his hand. He blinks. Kaminari. Kaminari, playing with his fingers. He can’t really feel it, but it does stupid things to his heart to see. Maybe he’s dreaming.

“Hey, dummy,” Kaminari says. His smile looks wobbly and his eyes look damp. Not a dream, but the emotion in Kaminari’s face is probably just Sero’s imagination. “We thought we lost you for a minute there. How are you feeling?”

Sero tries to ask how the others are, Kirishima and Bakugou and Mina, and did they catch Amp, and did they put out the fire, and are the civilians safe, but his throat is too dry and cracked from disuse. Kaminari seems to understand his feeble wheezing anyway, because the wobbly look turns exasperated.

“They’re fine, everyone’s fine. They're grabbing lunch now, but they all want to see you. Can you worry about yourself for once?”

Sero tries for a smile; that feels cracked too. Kaminari watches and something in his face turns fragile, or so it seems to Sero, but he squeezes Sero’s hand and smiles back.

Kaminari fills Sero in on the details: they did catch Amp, Sero’s been out for roughly two days, Bakugou and Kirishima woke up yesterday. Bakugou was furious that an amateur villain got the better of him. The flowers on the side table are a get well gift sent from the office of Dr. Skye, with a toothbrush and floss bundle included. They’re pretty flowers, yellow daubs of cheer in the otherwise drab white room. Kaminari frowns at them, but it's hard to tell what for. “Hey, I’m sorry if this thing with Amp ruined your date, man. At least it looks like he’s still into you. Maybe he’s a keeper.”

“It’s funny that you think I need Amp to ruin my love life,” Sero says. He blinks at the shape his words take in his ear; he imagines an animate cheese grater would sound the same. “Nah, I ruined it all by myself. He just sent those because he’s a nice guy.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Kaminari sounds as though he isn’t sure what else to say. Sero sighs, and remembers that he’s still very tired.

“Don’t be. It was my fault. He realized that I was still hung up on someone else.”

Kaminari’s eyes cut quick, lightning paths to him. Huh. He may have given too much away. Drugs might be stronger than he thought.

“Then,” Kaminari says, and hesitates, a complicated twist of emotions passing over his features. “Then I guess I’m not sorry.”

The moment becomes charged, suddenly. The air between them. Sero licks his lips.

“Thanks for being here,” he says. It's mostly air. Kaminari’s laugh is air too, airy and wet and surprised.

“Of course I'm here. Can't let my best friend wake up alone, can I?”

“Kirishima’s your best friend.” Oh. Oh no. Did he say that out loud? He didn't mean to say that out loud.

Kaminari’s whole body goes kind of slack, and then it tightens up again. He looks annoyed, but not before he looks very, very sad.

“You're an idiot,” he says, and Sero splutters.

“Wh--that's rich, coming from you!”

“Yeah, it is. Is that what this is about? Is that what this is all about? We're twenty seven years old, how was this not made abundantly clear in high school? Kirishima is my best friend, yeah. And so is Bakugou and so is Mina and so is Jirou. And so are you, dumbass.”

Sero blinks, once, sluggishly. “Huh?”

“Sero.” Kaminari looks right at him. The lighting isn’t as romantic as a fancy restaurant or a burning bank but his eyes are still beautiful, and damp and earnest, though Sero is imagining those last two, he has to be. “You’re incredible. We’re all strong on our own but the only reason our agency is the best is because of you, you know that, right? Didn’t I say that? You glue us all together.”

Oh. Oh, shit, Sero isn’t imagining it because if Kaminari weren’t being so earnest he would totally have said tape instead of glue. That can’t be. Can it?

“Stop,” he says.

“And it’s more than that. You’re funny, and you’re nice, and you’re always smiling, even when it’s for everyone else’s sake and not your own. You’re my best friend, Sero, you’re more than that, you’re--”

“Stop.”

Sero’s limbs are still fuzzy-numb but he presses his hands over Kaminari’s mouth as best he can. He ends up sort of mashing his hand over Kaminari’s whole face instead. Pretty good, he thinks. Pretty good at everything. “Listen, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I’m not that great.” He clears his throat a time or three. “I'm no Ground Zero or Deku. I’m no Red Riot or Alien Queen.”

“I don’t want you to be any of them,” Kaminari says. Sero can feel his lips moving against his fingers and it’s killing him. “You’re perfect just being Sero.”

“Thank you. I’m lucky to have you as a friend.”

His hand flops back to the bed, and Kaminari—he looks surprised. Then he looks confused. Then he looks suspicious. Then he looks angrily suspicious.

“Do you,” he starts, narrows his eyes and starts again, “Do you not know how I feel about you?”

Sero considers giving up on trying to understand what’s happening. He shrugs a little helplessly. “Well, you just said I was your best friend, which is a hell of a surprise. Good kind, though.” Kaminari does not stop looking angrily suspicious. In fact it looks like anger might be winning out. “I mean. I mean, I think it’s the good kind? Are you okay?”

“Before this. Before all this—ten years ago. You didn’t know how I felt ten years ago?”

“Um. You definitely thought of me as a good friend. Just a friend.” Oh, huh. He hadn’t meant to put that stress on the just. Definitely stronger drugs than he thought, oh.

“Just a—” Suddenly the anger peaks. Sero’s sheets crackle with static and the lights and medical screens flicker. It gives out into something else before sparks start flying. Kaminari presses his forehead to Sero’s knuckles. He looks a little like he's praying. “Do you remember what happened after I kissed you ten years ago?”

Sero blinks once. He blinks a lot. “You started talking about Jirou.”

“No, you started talking about Jirou.”

“What?” says Sero, because what the fuck? “No. No, you kissed me and then you said that you wanted to ask out Jirou and you asked my advice and I said go for it.”

Kaminari sighs with his whole body. He turns his head to meet Sero’s eyes. His voice is patient and exasperated. “No. I kissed you, and then you got this dumb frozen look that you have now, and then you told me you’d had the bright idea that I should ask out Jirou. You said we’d make a good couple. We got along so well. You were rooting for us.”

Sero stares at him. Kaminari’s cheek on the flat of Sero’s hand, an annoyed twist to his mouth. His fringe in danger of falling into his eyes. He's beautiful. It hurts to look at him.

“Oh my god,” says Sero. “I said you should ask out Jirou.”

Kaminari explodes. So does one lightbulb. “You said I should ask out Jirou! The girl who's been in love with YaoMomo since our first year! After I kissed you!”

“Oh my god. I’m an idiot.” The whole world is flipping upside down and Sero has to fist the bed sheets to keep from tumbling ass over teakettle. He forgot that. How did he forget that? “Well—well, why did you do it, then?”

He gets a withering look for that, though Kaminari’s cheeks do seem to pinken a little. “Are you telling me you wouldn’t panic after you bear your soul to a guy and he tells you to date someone else?”

Okay, that’s grounding. Good to know Kaminari is still a lovable dummy. Sero relaxes by degrees. “You didn’t have to actually go on a date with her, though.”

“I panicked. You told me to so I said I would and I didn’t know where to go from there. Jirou is a good friend and she indulged me. And you lost the right to make fun of me when you stomped all over my heart and then forgot about it! I’ve been pining like a sap for ten fucking years, man, I thought you just pitied me!”

Kaminari throws himself across the bed, face down; Sero knows he should feel bad for being the architect of his own romantic angst, and he knows he should feel worse for reinforcing a decade long misunderstanding, and he does, and he will, but Kaminari is too melodramatic to play a very convincing injured party. Sero pets his hair, slides his fingers into it, and Kaminari lets him. It’s kind of tacky with sweat and old gel—he’s been here for a long time. Probably hasn’t even showered, which is gross. Sero loves him so desperately it hurts.

“I've liked you since I was fifteen,” Sero says. “You're my favorite person.”

“I like you a lot, Sero,” Kaminari says to the covers. His voice is muffled, but also it’s quiet, and small. “A lot a lot. Can I kiss you and you not tell me to kiss someone else this time?”

“Wow,” says Sero, because he can’t think of anything else to say. Kaminari peeks up at him; whatever he sees makes him look as vulnerable as Sero feels and then he’s—wow. Wow.

The EKG machine, previously silent and satisfied with Sero’s resting heart rate, starts to chirp in distress. Sero barely hears it. By the time a nurse bustles in the machine is wailing and Kaminari has Sero pressed into the mattress with his full weight, tongue in his mouth, hands in his hair, and Sero thinks, deliriously, helplessly, that if he died like this he could only be so lucky.

----

Three days after being discharged from the hospital and the guilt finally hits him.

“I’m sorry,” he says. He’s holding a button up shirt of dabbing Santas that Kaminari got him for Christmas five years ago. “I think I’m—I get kind of stupid, when it comes to you. It’s hard to imagine that you could really—for me—it’s just. It’s just that you deserve the best.”

Kaminari snorts a little. He plucks the shirt from Sero’s hands and folds it. “You are an idiot.”

Okay, he doesn’t really fold it. He mostly crumples it into a ball and stuffs it in the duffel bag next to the clothes Sero has actually folded. There are two more duffels just like this already waiting by the door. (He should probably invest in a real suitcase.) The picture frames and wall scrolls and floor lamps are in the car. They’ve already moved the big furniture. The place that was his home is disconcertingly bare, suddenly. Bigger and lonelier than it's ever been.

Kaminari singsongs, “Do you really think I’d accept anything less than the best?” and just like that any lingering traces of wistful nostalgia are whisked away.

Now it’s Sero’s turn to snort. “You would accept anything on two legs.”

“Lies and slander. I am a dignified superhero. Very respectable.”

Sero laughs. Guffaws. Hoots, because that’s hysterical. “You, respectable!”

“Shut up, man, I am! I have very high standards.” Kaminari starts to chuck socks at him.

“High standards!”

Once they’re done here they’ll transport the suitcases to Kaminari’s apartment, and then they’ll head for work. Grab some beers with the rest of the agency after that and share the big news. (Mina already knows, because she always knows these things.) Then they’ll go home, together. To their life: goofy posters and classic Japanese wall art. Take out boxes and healthy fruits and vegetables. Clothes folded and crumpled and side by side.

Kaminari abandons balled up clothing projectiles in favor of a direct attack. His hands are staticky and wedged in Sero’s sides and his armpits, but Sero has the advantage of long and wiggly fingers and he’s not about to lose so easily. They roll around. They spill the suitcase. Kaminari kisses him, which isn’t fair at all, and he says, “I have high standards. The highest standards. I only accept the absolute best. Get it?”

He’s not laughing anymore. Sero touches his face and his eyes flutter shut.

“I get it. Hey. I get it, it’s okay.”

“It’s such a—it’s so stupid, jack of all trades, you’re so much more, I wish I could just—”

“If we ever get invited back for another interview, you can rub our relationship in her face. How’s that sound?”

Kaminari’s eyes pop open. He clutches Sero’s hand on his cheek and static dances all over his skin. It feels sweet. That’s probably just in his head but he doesn’t care.

“Oh my god yes. I love you, yes, let’s do it. We’ll be so lovey dovey we’ll knock Kirishima and Bakugou right out of third place on JP’s Best Heroic Couple Billboard.”

“Hell, let's go for first. Eat your heart out, Midoriya.”

It seems this renders Kaminari speechless, because then he’s kissing him again. Sero can’t complain. For the first time in a long time he’s not satisfied with being average, not about this. He wants more. He is more.

Jack of all trades. Ha. Eat your heart out, Jack.

----

----

[the dabbing santa shirt exists and it’s beautiful. i hope and pray that no one figures out the inspiration for skye]

#boku no hero academia #bnha fic #Sero Hanta #kaminari denki #kamisero #my hero academia #bakusquad #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #mina ashido #listen my son just deserves happiness and love

[searchingwardrobes]

For the GTKY game: 1, 7, 12?

Thanks, @captainsjedi

I answered #7 about my worst first date for @justbecauseyoubelievesomething but I can answer the other two.

#1, the weirdest place I’ve ever spent the night . . . 

About a year ago, a friend of mine invited me to go with her to a women’s conference in Alabama. There were four of us, actually, who were going to ride there together. I didn’t know the other two women, but one of them had found a place for us to stay for free. Her in-laws lived there, and they would be out of town for the weekend. 

This house . . . oh my God, ya’ll this house!!! I have never been so freaked out in my life. It was a pretty big house, and very high end. The foyer and living room was decorated to look like a Chinese restaurant complete with a four foot tall Buddha statue and a fountain. Then there was the dining room where the walls were covered in paintings of clowns. “My mother in law is crazy about clowns,” the woman informs us. Who in there right mind collects clown paintings?!? But it gets worse:

She also collected clown dolls. Yep, clown dolls. There was a glass case jam packed with the creepiest collection of clown dolls and marionettes you have ever seen. This led down to the basement where we would have to sleep because the maid already cleaned the ground floor. (How awful for them, right?)

There were multiple rooms in the basement, each with different themes. One room was the “Victorian Room” complete with tapestries straight out of a Poe short story and a giant painting over the bed of a creepy woman. You swore the eyes in the painting were following you. Strangely, there was also a cot in the walk in closet of this room. 

Another room was the “game room,” but the “games” were creepy old pinball machines like in a horror movie. On the walls were movie posters - but not blockbuster movies, oh no. These were the type of movies they watch on Mystery Science Theater 3000. 

Then my friend’s friend shows us another room - underneath the stairs right next to the hot water heater. She got this kind of half smile on her face and said, “I know what you’re thinking. If you choose to sleep here, let me know when the letter from Hogwart’s arrives. This is where my in laws make my eight year old sleep.”

The bathroom I think I’ve blocked out except that it looked like live fish had been encapsulated in the tile and there were feet shaped tiles right in front of the toilet. You know, in case you forgot how . . . I guess?

I chose the least creepy room - yet another Asian themed room with monkeys painted above the bed. My friend’s friend warned me - “are you sure? the trees can see you in here.” I peeked out of the blinds, and there were faces on the trees. They had nailed those ceramic eyes and lips and stuff onto the trees so they were looking directly into my room. I still thought it was safer than the other three options, though. 

“My in laws are a bit . . . eccentric.” Yeah, that was an understatement. I didn’t sleep very well that night.

I can imagine that you think I made this up. I promise you, I did not. I could scarcely believe this house myself. I don’t think I could have imagined anything like it if I’d wanted to. 

#12 - Have I been present for any historical events? I haven’t been present for any, but I do remember vividly when 9/11 happened. Most people do, I’m sure. I was teaching, and one of my students came in late because he had a dentist appointment. He told us about the first plane, and at the time, we thought it was an accident. After my class left, I turned on the tv in my room and actually saw the second plane hit live. I remember how terrified we all were. 

Hmm, should have answered that one first. I’m ending on a sad note.

Ask me for a story! https://searchingwardrobes.tumblr.com/post/190160263460/fic-writers-gtky-game

[eene-fangirl]

Monster House-ED Chapter 3 (An Ed, Edd n Eddy Crossover)

Grasping his beating heart, Eddy took a deep breath. In and out, feel the ground, you are safe.

Was he safe?

His whole room was dark. Checking the time, it was just after eleven o’clock at night. Did he really just fall asleep for five hours? It wasn’t even that late by the time he retreated to his bedroom. That happened on days when he was very stressed. One day after school about a few months ago, Eddy passed out and didn’t wake up until it was time for dinner. When his mother found out it only further worried her. Now he was going to have a heck of a time trying to fall asleep again.

The phone rang again, startling Eddy.

Ugh, why did Ed like to call late?

Wiping the sleep from his eyes, Eddy picked up the phone. “What do yah want, Ed?”

On the other line, something was breathing. It sounded like a low hum like a car sitting in the driveway.

“Ed, you tryin’ to mimic a monster again? Go to bed!” And Eddy hung up the phone. 

The phone rang again, louder than ever, blaring its incessant ring through Eddy’s ears. That noise was giving him a headache!

Eddy nervously glanced around his dark room. Even with the glow from his glow lamp sitting right near the table wasn’t helping anything. Darkness was darkness. And he hated it. The set of pictures of Old Man Jonny hanging up on his wall made his stomach squirm.

Reluctantly, Eddy answered the phone again. “Yes?” Eddy barked.

Again, breathing, mixed with a low growl of an animal was on the other end. This was ridiculous! “Very funny, Ed!”

Now it was his turn. Pressing the buttons, Eddy prepared for his own ruse on Ed. Ever since he and Ed were kids they’d always call to act like monsters. It was fun. But Ed never did it this late.

The phone rang on the other line. Waiting impatiently, something caught Eddy’s attention. He could hear a phone ringing. And it was close by. Like, right next to him.

Feeling chills run up his spine, Eddy turned to his window.

Across the street, the house was staring into his soul with its glassy window eyes. It was so faint but the phone was definitely ringing. Lifting up his window, the noise was louder now. Who knew a phone ringing could be so alarming. Now he knew how those people in horror movies felt. Eddy’s breath hitched in his throat. Just like the line on his phone, it kept ringing, and ringing, and ringing. The house... was calling him...

“BOO!” Someone’s hands painfully clapped down against his shoulders. Turning around, Eddy screamed when he was met with the smashed face of a chicken with tire tracks covering it.

The person under the mask laughed mockingly, pointing a finger in Eddy’s startled face. “Happy Halloween, dork!”

And then, Marie walked into the room switching on the light. Briefly glancing at Eddy to make sure he was okay, Marie laughed in that annoying high pitched voice. “Nice one, Kev!”

Removing the mask, a young man with long, very tangled ginger hair appeared. Taking an orange hat out of his pocket, he placed it right on his head. Eddy’s nose turned up when he saw his terrible crooked teeth. Clearly, someone had never heard of going to the dentist! His ripped pants sagged and he smelled foul. Like a smell Eddy knew very well whenever his brother disappeared to be alone in his room.

“Hey, just ‘cause I’m not allowed to have people over doesn’t mean you can!” Eddy confronted Marie.

“Relax! He’d just here to keep me company! This is Kevin,” Marie introduced.

“Sup, dork!” Kevin tilted his head as if to greet him.

“He’s a professional biker.”

Kevin took out his wallet. Right in front of his picture of Marie was a bike.“Yeah! Wanna see some pics of the gorgeous gal?”

“You actually carry around a picture of your bike?” Eddy turned up his brow.

“Hey, don’t insult her!” Kevin spat. 

Marie also rolled her eyes. “Anyway, aren’t you up way past your bedtime?” Marie stood over Eddy trying to intimidate him.

Eddy shook his head. The phone was still ringing from across the street. “No, you gotta see this! Listen!” He told Marie, placing the still ringing phone in her hand and pointing across the street at the house.

Marie turned her brow up, unphased by the predicament. “Uh... wow, you called the neighbors. Good for you.” And turned the phone off and closed the window.

“No, he called me!” Eddy’s voice cracked.

“Who called you?” Marie asked briefly alarmed but annoyed at the same time.

“Old Man Jonny! P.S. he died today!”

“You lie!” Kevin confronted pointing a finger in his face. 

“No way! He died and now he’s haunting me!” Eddy claimed.

Kevin stared mesmerized at the house. “Wow, a phone call from beyond the grave. Word!”

Eddy noticed Marie and Kevin look at each other. Clearly, they didn’t believe him. Who did?

Then Kevin burst out holding his arms out in a ghoulish fashion. “OOOOOOOH!”

“Seriously, are you trying to be Marley? That guy isn’t even scary. I’m serious!” Eddy fought with them. No, his mind was no messing with him. That’s what his brother always tried to do.

Turning up his nose, Kevin spied something that made his eyes light up. “Oh, you’re serious?” Kevin took the magazine that was sticking out from underneath Eddy’s pillow.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Eddy jumped up trying to get his magazine. Kevin waved it over his head just to further mock him. Then he opened up the pages.

“What is that?” Marie turned her nose up.

“Did you know he was serious?” Kevin asked the girl on the front cover of the magazine.

Eddy jumped, trying to retrieve the magazine. “Come on, give it back!”

“Sure, but first, do you mind?” And Kevin started licking the pages.

“Gross! Stop!”

“Wait, wait, somethin’ wrong!” Kevin alerted pressing his ear to the page. “Yeah, they’re all havin’ trouble breathing due to rippled pages! Let me handle it!”

Kevin ripped up the magazine, shredding it to pieces.

“Hey, stop! My bro gave me that!” Eddy’s breath caught in his throat. Unaware that he had fallen on to the ground, Eddy’s insides shivered. Bro...

“Hey, Kevin, knock it off! Downstairs, right now!” Marie point to the door. Briefly, she glanced at Eddy to make sure that he was okay. She was about to bend down to his side to make sure he was okay. Was this the episode that Eddy’s parents were warning him about if one were to ever happen?

Kevin sneered, laughing at Eddy. “Looks like playtime’s over! See yah, dork!”

And Marie and Kevin left the room, leaving Eddy alone. He just stared at the ripped up pages of the magazine at his feet. The magazine was his brothers. He gave him his collection of magazines. Did that mean... he cared?

Fuming, Eddy collected the ripped pages. Holding them over the trash can, his fingers refused to let the pages go. So, instead, he just placed them on the desk with his investigation notes. Why? Why did his life end up this way? Was he really wasting his whole life away when he could have been out playing sports?

Why was this so hard? His brother had only been gone for a year and yet it still felt like he was here torturing him. Seeing him was out of the consequences. Of course, it’s not like Eddy really wanted to see him.

Just then, Eddy caught something peculiar. The last time he looked at the house wasn’t the shade on the window up?

And then, the shade flew up revealing the dark glass staring back at him.

Cowering behind the drape, Eddy mentally kicked himself. Slowly, Eddy caught the slightest peak at the house, just barely making it out. Now, the shade was closed again.

This was crazy. Something was wrong. There was something up with that house. And he couldn’t inspect the situation alone.

Reaching for his phone, Eddy waited and waited, pacing the room.

“Hello?” Ed answered on the other line. Just from the loud noises in the background, Eddy knew in an instant that Ed was playing a video game.

“Ed, you gotta meet me at the construction site right now! Where are your parents?”

“Well, Mom is still out and Dad passed out on the couch two hours ago,” Ed responded somewhat uncomfortable.

“Okay, meet me there! Pronto!”

Now, all Eddy had to do was sneak passed, Marie. Like that would be a problem. Unless she was actually going to do her job tonight.

As he descended the stairs, Marie and Kevin’s bickering grew louder. They were in the other room. The TV was on but they weren’t paying any attention to it. They kept the room dark. This was going to be too easy.

“Aw, come on, Marie! Lighten up!” Kevin groaned.

“I said no!”

Eddy didn’t even want to know. He was listened in on one, out of many, of his brother's dates.

Finally, Marie sighed in exasperation. “You know, I saw an ambulance on my way here today.”

Eddy saw Kevin took a swig from a bottle he knew very well. “So?”

“So, maybe Old Man Jonny really did die!”

“Yeah, and the guy is so weird! He was a mental case! Not to mention, evil!”

Again, Marie rolled her eyes, annoyed. She even hugged her legs, sitting at a distance on the couch from Kevin. “Don’t say that! The guy was just misunderstood. He was old.”

“Oh, really, Marie?” Kevin sat up catching her attention. “When I was twelve, I had this bike. Awesome bike. It was so pretty. The chains were rad! And you should have seen the brakes on that thing...”

“Get to the point!” Marie whacked him with a pillow.

“Fine! I could ride that baby for miles. And then one day, it got caught in the grass right over there,” Kevin pointed out the window across the street at the house that was staring back at them.

Marie gently smoothed his face. “Aw, did he take your bike?”

“Yeah, he takes whatever lands on his lawn! But, you know, there were rumors that he didn’t live in that house alone.”

“Who lived with him? Was he married?” Marie asked.

“He had this friend. And everyone knows what he did to him.”

“What? What did he do?” Marie asked crawling forward on the couch in anticipation.

“He killed him... and then he ate him!” Kevin threw himself on Marie to which they trampled off the couch out of sight.

Rolling his eyes, this was a good chance for Eddy to sneak out. As Marie threw Kevin out of the house, Eddy left out the back door.

“Come back when you learn some respect for women!” Marie huffed. 

“What’s her problem?” Kevin took another swig of his drink, swaying as he walked down the pathway.

The house from across the street sat in place, staring at him.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” Walking over, Kevin happily stood on the property, trespassing on Jonny’s land. “Hey, I’m on your lawn! What’re you gonna do about it?”

Kevin threw his bottle across the lawn and then ripped up the grass shouting.

Catching his attention, the door to the house opened. In the doorway... his bike!

“Righteous!”

As if he were in hypnosis, Kevin walked right up to the house with this childlike smile on his face. He hadn’t seen his old bike in years. It hadn’t aged a day.

Touching the handles, the happy feeling immediately subsided when Kevin was pulled inside the house, disappearing. 

#ed edd n eddy #eene #eene fanfiction #eddy's brother #monster house

[lovemesomesurveys]

What’s your favorite chocolate in the valentine box? I don’t like assorted chocolate boxes, honestly. I’m too picky. Just give me milk bordeaux and white chocolate strawberry truffles from See’s Candy. What color hair did your first crush have? I’m pretty sure he had brown hair. What’s your favorite thrift store? I don’t go to any. Would you ever share your most embarrassing moment publicly? Nah, I’m good. Would you ever consider wearing your mother’s wedding dress? My mom doesn’t have a wedding dress, she’s never had a wedding or been married (she and my dad have been together for over 30 years, though). I don’t plan on ever getting married anyway.

Do you eat yogurt a lot? I don’t eat yogurt, I don’t care for the texture. It’s weird cause I liked Go-Gurts as a kid and I remember eating those Trix yogurts, too. *shrug* What’s a condition you have that you haven’t been officially diagnosed with? I think I’ve been diagnosed with everything I have as far as I know. Could your town be nicknamed Hell? Yes. It’s shitty and also very hot. Are you mad at someone right now? No. Have you ever been told by the police to stay away from a certain church? No? What’s your favorite version of the Bible? KJV. Do you have clubbed thumbs? No. Do you think pineapple belongs on pizza? Nooo. Which one of your parents do you think is smarter? They both are. Which parent do you think you inherited your intelligence level from? They’re both intelligent, but I feel I’m just very average. Do you store your bike in a garage for the winter? I don’t have a bike. What were your favorite gym class activities in elementary school? I didn’t enjoy gym. What is one of your favorite items that you’ve got from Goodwill? I don’t go to thrift stores. Do you own Lulalore leggings? Nope. They’re super expensive. Would you rather wear a tunic top and jeggings or a crop top and high-waisted jeans? Tunic top and jeggings. Do you think hoodies look better oversized and long, or cropped? I like mine to be oversized. What’s one style you hate? I don’t feel that strongly about a style, but there’s a lot I don’t like/care for.  What’s one trend you haven’t caught up on? A lot of them. I don’t even really know what’s trendy anymore, I’m old. ha. Where do you discover new music? Spotify mostly. Do you eat popsicles in the winter or only in the summer? I don’t care for popsicles. Unless they’re Otter Pops/Freeze Pops/whatever you want to call them. It’s been a few years since I’ve had any, but they were my favorite during the summertime. I’m not a big ice cream person in general, though. Which season’s colors do you look the best in? I don’t feel I look good in anything, but I love fall and winter clothes. Have you ever had a professional make-over? Yeah. Have you ever had a professional photo shoot? Yes. My mom had my pictures done a lot when I was a kid, plus the yearly school photos. I have a cousin who’s a photographer and he did my college grad photos. Did you ever want to be a model? No. I couldn’t be one anyway. Are you jealous of anyone? No, but I am envious of some people. What’s your favorite way to style your hair? It’s always just in a pony tail or braid. What irritates you about your daily life? Health related crap. Do you have a doctor you can trust? Yes. What makes you feel awake? I’m always tired and have no energy. What makes you feel more creative? I’m not creative. Do you sunbathe? No. What’s your anti-depressant? The beach helps a lot during the time I’m there. Do you stretch or do yoga? Nope. Who’s a youtuber you would like to collab with? I don’t make videos and I wouldn’t want to be in someone else’s. I’d be waaaaay too self-conscious.  Could you come up with 100 random facts about yourself on the spot? No. I do not want to even try. Do you wish the message boards were more active? I don’t go on message boards anymore, but I used to when I was like 11 until about 16/17.  What are five things that would make you happier? Just good health, mentally and physically, would really help. Financial stability would be great, too. Do you ever curl your hair? Nope. Have you ever straightened your hair for a dance? No. I curled (well someone else curled it for me, ha) for the dances I went to.  List all of the colors of dresses you have worn to school dances. I didn’t wear a dress for the middle school dances, but in high school I wore a white dress with gold specks and a red flapper dress (the theme was roaring 20s or something like that). Did you enjoy school dances? I had fun. The middle school ones I went to hang out with friends and eat the snacks, haha. Pizza, soda, and desserts were especially great at that age and having it at school felt even better for whatever reason lol. Listening to the music was fun, too. I enjoyed prom and winter formal were fun, too. I just went with friends to those as well. What is something you want to be for Halloween? I don’t dress up anymore. Who is your favorite parent? I don’t choose favorites like that. I’m closer to my mom, but I love them both.  Do you have chronic pain? Yes and other chronic health issues. What is your favorite part of going to the dentist? Absolutely NOTHING. The dentist has always been awful for me. Have you ever not been able to see the big E at the eye doctor? No. Have you ever worn cat-eye glasses? Yeah. What year do you want to go back to? I miss my childhood. Honestly; though, if I could just go back like 5-10 years ago that would be fine cause I could change so much that would make such a difference in my life now. Who have you been missing lately? I always miss my maternal grandparents that have passed away, as well as my doggo, Brandie. Which school year was best? Elementary school in general, probs. 

#personal #text #survey #surveys

[does-this-look-inanimate-to-you]

The Very Best Ship

As all of us in multiple fandoms know, finding an OTP is a very difficult process. They have to have chemistry, make sense, and they have to be soulmates. It took me a really long time to figure mine out. Which one was it- Pam and Jim from The Office? Ron and Hermione from Harry Potter? Maybe a real-life couple? I struggled like this until October 3rd, 2018.

This was the opening day of my high school’s musical. I had never seen it before- not even the movie. I was required to see it for theatre class, so my mom and I dressed up to see it. I was pretty excited (because the lead told me everyone died in the show and I wanted to see him die). It turned out to be absolutely amazing. The set was flawless, the lighting was astounding, the acting was amazing, and the storyline was both heartbreaking and comedic. This show was, for those of you who know anything about my blog, Little Shop of Horrors. Now, I like a lot about this show, but the thing I loved most was something more than the elements I mentioned: the most perfect ship in the world... Seymour Krelborn and Audrey Fulquard. So enough with this annoyingly long introduction, let’s get on with the topic of this post, shall we?

First, let me introduce the characters. Seymour, shown above, is a sweet young guy who lives in the basement of Mushnik’s florist shop. He’s pretty miserable, since he lives in a poor part of town and his crush has a boyfriend (we’ll address that later). His adoptive Dad, Mr. Mushnik, is emotionally abusive, so that doesn’t help much.

Audrey is a kind young lady who lives across the street from her job at Mushnik’s. She’s also a sad girl, though, for multiple reasons. Not only is she poor, but she’s also dating a physically abusive dentist named Orin. Probably the worst part about this is the fact that he picked her up at a gross night spot where she used to work when business was bad at the shop. She hates her life, but she clings onto hope for a better life.

The first minute or so after the prologue, we don’t see much of the ship, just Audrey coming into the shop with a black eye. When her boss, Mushnik (who I mentioned earlier) asks, she kind of avoids the question. The ship kicks off when Seymour makes his first appearance. He comes into the shop holding a stack of pots, which he almost instantly drops. Mushnik yells at him, but Audrey comes over to him and helps him clean up. Seymour flirts with her very awkwardly, because that’s what he does.

After a slightly depressing number about how life downtown sucks, Seymour reveals his plot device- I mean exotic plant- that he bought from a Chinese man in the “wholesale flower district” for literally $2. He admits that he doesn’t know the species, so he gave it his own name- Audrey II. Audrey is a tiny bit embarrassed, but in a good way. For the rest of the scene, she makes sure to tell people the name of the plant. She’s so proud of it, and it’s quite frankly extremely adorable.

The plant starts to bring in business. Audrey arrives late to listen to Seymour’s first radio interview, and feels awful. This is when we first learn about Douchebag Dentist McGee, and what he does to her. Anyway, a couple of homeless women who seem to love stalking both Seymour and Audrey ask her why she doesn’t get a new guy, to protect her and treat her right- Seymour, for instance. But Audrey doesn’t think she deserves him. However, she has the most beautiful song about her dream of living with him away from their current downtown life.

Meanwhile, the shop gets increasingly busy. Soon, everyone has heard of Seymour Krelborn and his amazing plant. But little do they know, he feeds it off of his blood. That’s what it eats.

After being yelled at by Mushnik for forgetting to send an order to a customer, Seymour talks to Audrey about Mushnik. She tells him he suffers from a low self-image (which is what the homeless ladies told her but whatever) and she suggests he go shopping for new clothes. He doesn’t think he’s a good shopper, and Audrey offers to help. This is pure, beautiful love right here. I don’t care if they’re not together at this point, I just love it.

Remember the evil shitbag dentist I mentioned? Well, it’s here that he finally appears. His name is Orin Scrivello, and he really likes to hurt people, and that’s why he’s a dentist. He has a whole song about it. Well, he comes to the shop to pick up Audrey. He starts acting threatening toward Seymour, but Audrey doesn’t like that, so she tries to stand up for her “friend.” This pisses Orin off, and he decides Seymour is to blame.

Seymour, meanwhile, is worried about his co-worker. In the show, Mushnik hears Seymour pretending to consider to leave the shop, and he adopts Seymour to prevent this. This doesn’t happen in the movie, though. Anyway, it’s around here that the plot really starts to advance. I won’t talk about this too much, since it doesn’t matter to the topic of this post, but basically the plant can talk and it wants to eat people instead of blood from cuts on a florist’s fingers. It convinces Seymour to kill Orin, to save his beloved Audrey.

Seymour comes into Orin’s office and threatens him with a gun. Orin, who is making himself high on laughing gas (he wants to hurt Seymour extra because he sees him as a threat to his unhealthy relationship), barely seems to care. His mask gets stuck, and he starts to suffocate. In the movie, he says to Seymour, “What did I ever do to you?” and Seymour replies with possibly the best answer ever: “Nothing. It’s what you did to her.” It’s not in the show, and that makes me really sad. Regardless of the adaptation, Orin dies.

Seymour takes Orin to the shop and chops him up. In the movie, Mushnik sees him chopping, but that comes back a little later.

The first act ends there. This is really where the ship comes in. Seymour sees Audrey talking to the police and asks why. She tells him Orin has disappeared. Seymour pretends to be surprised, but his real shock is her reaction. Audrey is crying. She didn’t love him, but she thinks his disappearance was her fault because she had been hoping something would happen.

Seymour is distressed by this, so he starts singing the most beautiful song about how he is there to listen and understand her. The song escalates into a duet, and ends with the ship becoming a reality, sealed with a kiss. Seymour drops her off at her house and goes back home, dumbstruck and heartsick.

His joy doesn’t last, though. Mushnik comes in and accuses him of killing Orin. Keep this in mind- he didn’t. He only watched Orin die and gave his corpse to the plant. But Mushnik is convinced. His demise plays out differently in the movie and in the show, but this isn’t that important. The important thing is that he gets eaten by Audrey II.

(Note: From now on, I’m only going to talk about the movie, because the show ends badly, with both halves of the ship dead.)

Seymour gets a ton of offers from companies, but, again, I’m not going to focus on it because of the ship. After a stressful day of meetings, Seymour comes into the shop to a film crew. Unfortunately, the plant is hungry, so he has to shoo them all away and run into the same alley he and Audrey had their first kiss. Audrey follows him there and does her best to comfort her soulmate boyfriend. She mentions that the television people are coming with money, and something in Seymour’s mind clicks because they can finally escape together. All at once, he asks Audrey to marry him. He doesn’t have a ring , but she says yes anyway. They plan to spend that night in a hotel, the escape Skid Row forever, side by side. It’s the most adorable scene to ever exist, in my not-so-humble opinion. Anyway, they’re both really happy and excited and they go to their respective homes to get ready.

Seymour goes to get the plant one last meal before killing it (HE GIVES IT MEAT THIS TIME, OKAY, NOT BLOOD), but makes the mistake of leaving it alone in the shop while Audrey is getting ready for the wedding, and Audrey II takes advantage of this. It calls Audrey and tells her to come to the shop. She does, and it tricks her into it’s mouth.

Luckily, Seymour finds her just in time, and he saves her. He tells her everything, but she’s not upset. The whole time, Seymour thinks she just liked him for the plant, but this was far, far from the case. Audrey loves Seymour for who he is, not what he found. Seymour is reassured, and they start a reprise of their earlier duet.

Unfortunately, they are interrupted by a man who wants to clone Audrey II. Seymour shoos him away and decides to end the madness once and for all. Audrey wants to help, but he insists that he should finish what he started.

I’m not going to go into a lot of detail, but basically Seymour fights Audrey II and ends up killing it after it’s roots make the building collapse. Audrey is terrified for a moment, thinking he died in the collapse, bye he emerges from the rubble and they live happily ever after Somewhere That’s Green.

So, to conclude, my reasons for shipping these two children are:

They both love one another canonically

Each one thinks they don’t deserve the other, and isn’t that just fitting?

Each one would die for the other (they actually do, in the musical)

They loved each other since they first met

They respect each other’s feelings

They make the most beautiful couple in every possible way

Well, I hope you enjoyed my spiel on Audrey and Seymour. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

#little shop of horrors #my babies #audrey #seymour #otp

[chemicallyimbalanced-shadowling]

A “little” life update and some resolutions

I just wanna update you all “real quick” before I go to bed:

I’ve been feeling really good this week. Almost suspiciously good, but I’m running with it. Here’s a few things that have been going on :)

About a week and a half ago I got my nails done for the first time in an attempt to get rid of my awful nail biting habit, but not only is it helping with that but it also makes me feel SO much better about myself somehow. Like, I didn’t know how much just getting my nails done and loving them could make me feel this confident all of a sudden.

I had probably the best Christmas in a long time. Over the weekend before Christmas I was nervous for my family parties as always but they went really well and I talked to people more than I usually do and actually had a great time. I worked on Christmas Eve but it wasn’t even that bad despite the rude customers that inevitably come in. Then I stayed up really late and I got up early as hell as per usual for my family on Christmas (my little sister is 16 and a half and they still wake everyone up at the crack of dawn lmao). I was up at 7am, went down and opened presents with my family. All of which were really great, but it’s not the presents that matter. I then went to my best friend Faith’s family Christmas party at her grandma’s for the third (or fourth??? Probably actually) year in a row and almost cried because they gave several presents and included me in the impromptu family pictures they decided to do. When Fae and her lovely new boyfriend we’re taking me and Fae’s brother and sibling home we blasted music and sang loud and honestly I had a moment where I wanted to cry because I was so fucking happy. I couldn’t stop thinking about how just a few months ago Fae was in another state in an abusive relationship and now she’s home safe and happy. And how just a few months ago I was struggling with losing a friend and feeling betrayed and used and so sad. And now? I feel like I know who’s got my back and who deserves for me to care about them. Then I went home and spent more time with my family. I even got to help my mom go back to her house to give our puppy his first Christmas present and it was so precious. He went from being a late Christmas present for my sister last year to being part of the family and getting his own present. When we went back to her house at the end of the night he was so happy to see everyone home (and to see me too, since I live with my dad Beaux always goes nuts when I come over and he gets to have his entire family in one spot, he always misses me so much and it’s precious) he ran around the room and cuddled with each person for a minute then switched people for like five minutes before laying down on my mama. Once again I wanted to cry I was so happy.

The day after Christmas, mama and I picked up my best friend to go “look at all the after Christmas sales”. I had to lie to Fae for the first time in our entire friendship; we’d been planning for two weeks to take her shopping as a surprise. She lost most of her belongings to her ex boyfriend when they were together. He either broke shit, ripped shit when he hurt her, stole shit, etc., and she came back with only one small bag of clothes. We took her straight to Rue 21 and told her to pick out anything and everything she wanted, and she cried. Mama used her Rue bucks to save $60 and bought every single thing Fae picked out and wouldn’t let us sort through any of it once we knew what fit and what she wanted. My heart feels so full. I love that girl more than anything in the whole world honestly.

I worked today with my favorite manager and honestly it once again wasn’t that bad. I made a little boy smile when I gave him a balloon and for real that warmed my heart and made my day. Then I went shopping and used my Christmas money form grampa to buy some new clothes. I also found out my best friend Lynsey went into labor with her second lil baby, so I took her and her momma some food in the hospital for her to eat after she gave birth. She had the baby a few hours ago, a healthy baby girl, and I get to visit her tomorrow morning to bring her a couple little gifts and maybe meet the lil bean. I’m so excited.

I always say this and I know everyone else does too, but 2019 is going to be a great year. I’m speaking it into existence now. I’m sure it will still be a struggle, of course. I need to get my license and figure out whether or not I’m dorming at the main campus of my college when I move up in the fall or if I can commute. If I dorm, I’ll need to get a new job. General stuff. But I’m going to get my associates at the beginning of the summer. Finally. And I’m so happy. Then I can continue to work on my bachelor’s. Yes I’m behind in school but I got this. I’m going to start strong with school and stay there. I’m going to never miss a counseling appointment unless I really need to and I’m going to make the appointments mean more and really work on my mental health. I’m going to purge my dresser of all the stuff I never wear and slowly accumulate more new clothes that I really feel good in. I’m going to clean my room and get rid of or donate anything I don’t need anymore.

2019 is the year I’m going to work on self care, self improvement, and self love. I’m going to be healthier both physically and mentally and that starts with loving myself and becoming more confident. I’m going to take care of me and mine. I got my family and my best friends, I know who has my back now and I’m not putting up with anyone who wants to waste my time or use me. I’m going to work in loving myself by myself instead of wishing I had a partner, and whatever happens happens. I’m going to get into the dentist and fix my fucking teeth that have been fucked up (I have so many cavities it’s awful so we’ll see how that goes), I’m going to get back on birth control so I stop feeling like garbage all the time, and I’m going to go to the doctor to figure out why I’ve been getting migraines. I need to get a skincare routine together because I’m so dry and I’m breaking out like crazy. And I need to fix my sleep schedule (yikes it’s almost 1:30am speaking of sleep schedules lmao). I got this. It’s gonna be hard but I gotta keep reminding myself that I got this.

Sorry this was so long! But I also wanted to say, I’m so thankful for all of you. Every one of you, whether we talk or not, makes me so happy. This fandom means so much to me and I honestly don’t know where I’d be if I hadn’t been introduced to it. You all are so lovely and I love you SO much. I’m going to try to start making more and more content whenever I can, so I’ll keep you posted!

I hope everyone has a wonderful new year 💜

@themagicianfox @theresneverenoughfandoms @the-incedible-sulk @canadian-crofters @jynxlovesluck

#not ts #personal #happy holidays #merry christmas #happy new year

[chocolatemillkk]

Youtube Confessional (JS)

Request: The reader and joe are in a relationship, and joe makes them film a YouTube confessional and there’s a lot of joe breaking his character to laugh and him being all silly “I’m not joe, I’m breverent” Basically fluffy af

A/N: I've made it so they're both Youtubers? Also, I had to go back and watch all the confessional videos and had a good laugh. Zoe essentially names and fleshed out the whole thing lmao that first video was cute and the latest one was hilarious??? Byron's the cutest lmao and their banter!!

"I have Y/N with me in the confessional booth," Joe raises his hands at his side slightly. "And we will be giving her the chance to cleanse herself."

"Because I sin so much," I say and Joe shoots me a look reminiscent of my mother whenever I spoke out of line.

"As I was saying," Joe clears his throat. "We'll ask a series of questions gathered from you and me...."

Joe explains the rules and the forfeit and I watch with amusement. Joe and I had been going out for a year and a half now and only gone public less than a year. This was the second video I'd been in for his channel and I assumed it would be the harder one. Seeing Joe in character just made me more determined to break it.

"Are you nervous," Joe asks.

"I'm excited to no longer hear the voices in my head," I grin.

"Bless you love, that's actually the look of a mad woman," Joe looks at the camera and I look at my own, grinning harder and crossing my eyes to look more silly. It gets a snort out of Joe and I award myself a point mentally.

"Let's get straight into it. So you've been on Youtube for four years now," Joe begins. "Are you still enjoying it?"

"I am," I answer. "I enjoy making videos."

"I was doing my research because-" here Joe looks to the camera "I don't actually know Y/N at all. Never seen her she just showed up for confession-"

"I was actually looking for my dealer's flat," I interrupt. "And came upon this place so thought I'd check it out." I giggle at Joe's reaction. "The-what do you call yourself? The breverend was very handsome so I decided to stay."

"How long have you been staying?" Joe asks.

"About a year and a half?" I wink. Most of our fans didn't know the timeline of our relationship but now they were getting more information. Joe covers his face as he laughs and I purse my lips to keep from doing the same.

"So you're dating the handsome chap Joseph Sugg." Joe continues.

"Yeah," I nod.

"Is it for the views?" Joe raises an eyebrow.

"Obviously," I nod. "There's nothing else to him."

Joe's face looks so shocked I begin laughing again.

"I'm cleansing myself!" I shout. "Why are you offended?"

"I'm not!" Joe wipes the expression off his face but the hint of a smile remains.

"I'm joking," I shake my head. "I date him because he's lovely."

"Aw thanks," Joe smiles.

"You're getting a little creepy breverend," I scrunchle my nose. "I'm talking about my boyfriend not you."

That gets a big laugh out of Joe before he clears his throat again. He asks me who I recently unfollowed and which channels I wanted Youtube to take down. I answer as honestly as I could.

"Worst habit?" Joe asks.

"Hm," I think. "I hate washing the dishes so there's always something in the sink that my lovely boyfriend will load up for me when he cleans."

"Ugh," Joe shakes his head. "Are you sure that's your worst habit?"

"Yeah?" I say.

"So not that you snore loudly or always steal Joe's jumpers or that your hair always manages to find it's way all over the bathroom?"

"I have nothing to confess to with that," I say but I can tell Joe was only getting started.

"Least favourite of Joe's friends?" Joe grumbles after I don't respond.

I laugh, "Conor-he's barely around but you know when he is because the kid's always singing!"

"That was your quickest response!" Joe laughs.

"I'm sorry!" I say to the camera but I knew his friends wouldn't take offense-it wasn't anything I hadn't said to their faces.

"Would you date any of Joe's friends if you weren't dating Joe?" Joe asks, a gleam in his eye. I knew this question came from him directly-he was always wondering if the cracks I took at his friends for being pretty were truthful or not.

"I....would not," I say with as much of a serious face I could muster.

"Hm?" Joe raises an eyebrow, his eyes staring hard into mine.

"I wouldn't!" I laugh.

"So you're not attracted to any of my friends?" Joe asks one last time.

"I don't know any of your friends."

"Not mine-of course not." Joe backtracks. "Joe's friends."

"They're good looking but not my type." I answer honestly.

"How many Youtubers have you slept with?" Joe asks next.

"Hey!" I exclaim. "All these questions have to do with my love life?"

"I'm cleansing you!" Joe says. "I sense a dark aura around you-very sinful."

"Are you a psychic or breverend?" I ask.

"I'm all of them. My religion doesn't discriminate." Joe bites his cheek to keep from laughing.

"So what does my future hold?" I ask.

"I'm asking the questions," Joe pretends to snaps. "And it looks embarassing if you don't answer truthfully!"

"Fine! Two," I cringe slightly. The first was a year into my career and it was with somebody I wasn't even that into.

"Two?" Joe looks shocked.

"I don't even think the other guy's a Youtuber anymore," I shrug.

"Jesus," Joe whispers.

"Who's that?" I laugh.

"Josus!" Joe corrects himself, laughing too.

"Have you collabed with somebody that you wish you hadn't?" Joe asks.

"Yeah," I answer.

"Who?"

"You!" I exclaim. "I really hate this video."

"That's so mean!" Joe pouts.

"I have to be honest!" I respond.

"When was the last time you flew economy?" Joe asks.

"When you forgot to book my bloody tickets to LA!" I exclaim and Joe laughs, his whole body shaking. He already knew that answer. "Joe and some of the boys were going to LA and so was I but Joe forgot to book me on their flight even though he told me he did." I explain to the camera as Joe continues to laugh. "I had to book a last minute seat right behind the toilets. The whole flight there I was thinking of all the ways I could kill you."

Joe is still doubled over laughing with tears stream down his face. I throw one of my bracelets at him but he doesn't stop.

"He's possessed," I tell the camera.

"I'm not," Joe says through the laughter. "I'm alright. Give me a second."

"It wasn't funny," I cross my arms.

"I love you I said I was sorry so many times!" Joe exclaims.

"The flight was nine hours!"

"Wait," Joe gets up, tripping over his costume, and comes back with a water bottle. He opens the top of the nozzle and sprays a stream of water on me.

"Joe!" I shout, covering myself.

"I'm not Joe," Joe says calmy. "I'm breverend and I'm cleansing you with holy water."

"Spring water isn't-"

"Shh," Joe throws some more water on me.

"When can I leave this booth?" I cry.

"Final question. Will you let Joe get a dog?" Joe asks finally.

"That is so not a question," I shake my head, trying to pick the damp top off my skin.

"It is!" Joe insists but he hides his papers against his chest.

"Let me see!" I stretch over but he leans even further.

"Just answer!" Joe shouts.

"I want to see the question!" I shout back, climbing to Joe's area. Joe had been bothering me about getting a dog but I wasn't as keen knowing I would care for it more than he would.

"Get back on your side!" Joe glances at the camera as my leg makes contact with the tripod.

I grab Joe's hands and try to tug but he doesn't budge. When he does, he pokes my ribs and being ticklish, I flinch away from him. He laughs at me as I stick my tongue out at him.

"C'mere," he guides me to him and kisses me briefly. Our eyes meet right after and I can see that Joe was very much done with the video, having something else in mind instead.

"You're not very pious youself," I tease him.

"Your sinful ways are rubbing off on me," Joe laughs, sliding his arm around my waist.

"Infidelity," I shame him. "Kissing somebody else's girlfriend."

"I know Joe personally, he said it was alright," Joe grins.

"Aren't you a man of the cloth?" I lean closer to him.

"Bedsheets are cloth too," Joe whispers and I knew he was going to cut that out with the way he looks at me. We kiss again before I scramble off of him and sit at my end again.

"For that indiscretion," I say. "I'll have to show an embarassing video of Joe."

"That's not how it works," Joe exclaims.

"It is," I shrug. "I broke the breverend and now he has to pay."

Joe grumbles but as I scroll through my phone he places his hat on my head. When I show the clip, Joe talking in his sleep about the dentist, I bow my head and the hat falls off anyway. I sneak a look at Joe and he's chuckling at the video before he looks back up at me too. We exchange a smile, sweet and loving, before our attention is drawn back to the video.

Confessional booth over and out.

#wow so that just happened #joe sugg imagines #joe sugg imagine #joe sugg #thatcherjoe imagines #thatcherjoe imagine #thatcherjoe #youtube imagines #fic #buttercream imagines #buttercream gang #youtube confessional #i wasnt even going to write this much #but i watched old videos and i just vomitted this all out #sooo yeah #starystiless