#constantly chasing the high of high school lit class

[dilutingaddiction]

Things I Never Got To Tell You

Hi ***,

this is kinda funny because I didn't even realize it was your birthday today! makes it weird that i'd even write this today.

This was very difficult to write. I've been trying to forget about you but somehow you end up at the deepest depths of my mind. I feel like I've been transported back to high school, with an unrequited creepy crush on the graduating class' golden boy -- but with you, it's different.

I've gotten supremely obsessive over you in that summer I first met you. Horrible traits like checking your snap maps constantly, seeing if you've replied back to me, checking if your Tinder account was still there. I didn't like that I've become that person and my default response right now is to deflect it; that it was all "you", that you turned me into a person like that.

I'm deep in the process of getting over you now. I look back at our conversations with such extreme fondness... and heartache. I was so blinded by my infatuation of you that I missed all the signs that my feelings were one-sided and unrequited.

Yet, I still don't know what drew me to you. You were nice, civil, down-to-earth, and you seemed transparent enough to me. Not like your roommate, who's pretty freaky and probably needs to see a therapist.

You said things that were so... abnormal. Everything you did was literally meant to get me attached to you. You taught me how to skip rocks, you told me about your insecurities, you played with my hair, you listened to my rants, you made my heart warm at the sight of your smile. You'd talk to me about the most random things, tell me about what White Chicks remind you of, you told me about your future plans, your problems with your identity, how boring work was, you held my hands -- you even made me play with your callouses, you told me about your scars, your fears, everything.

We were such good friends. I hate that I ruined that for us. I hate that I can't see you with those lens.

That one park with the lake -- a place I'll never forget. I explored so much of you (and myself!) in the fog and that other night that was so bright as it was lit by the moonlight. So many bittersweet memories I hope to never forget. All the good times with you, I'd take it to my grave.

God, you were that one person that drove my emotions and senses into such extreme overdrive that I've had moments in my head which just feel like hazy memories. Every time you spoke of the other, my brain would turn off as I attempt to keep composure and absorb what you were saying.

But what I can't help but feel is that you've just seen me as a whore. I know your affinity for seeking sex through monetary means and that practice is not unheard of in your circle of friends or community. I don't mind being perceived as a whore necessarily, but it's the feeling that we had shared such intimate moments together where I venerated those shared experiences while you were just getting your rocks off. That thought hurts me a lot, but I would not be surprised if it is true.

I've always meant to ask why you kept coming back to me. There seems to be no other answer in my head! You kept coming back because I did it better. What makes this situation so much fucking worse is that you are chasing her like I am chasing you -- she seems like she is not interested enough to make you official (because if she liked you enough she would've come up with a way!) and only likes you because you're a good lay.

I say that because that is precisely how you see me -- and how one-sided this is just hurts me so much. I considered sleeping with your roommate again just to have the feeling of backstabbing you, but it's not even backstabbing if you never felt that way around me.

But unlike her -- I would have found a way. Distance is nothing to me. I would've stayed loyal to you (I know, I've led you astray and said that "relationships aren't for me" and make it sound like I have commitment issues) and I would always come back and make time for you. I made time for you those three weeks in that winter... and I wish there was more time. I wish it wasn't just purely sexual. I have respected your closet status and we can do all those cutesy lovey dovey stuff without anyone knowing. I'd do that because I like you.

I know I said I'd see you again soon and that I'll let you know when I'm back but honestly, I felt like I just got dumped that night I saw you. I shed a tear in the elevator on the way up to my apartment. I don't think I can see you again... for my sake.

Anyways. Happy birthday, ***. You are literally the reason why this Tumblr blog exists. I'm scared that now that you're 26... the pressure is on to get married. I hope you're happier after me.

[backstage-bucknell]

Come See Bucknell Theatre’s Next Mainstage Production!

By: Katie Schadler and Abby Campion

God of Carnage

By Yasmina Reza

Translated by Christopher Hampton

Friday, Saturday & Monday

Feb. 23, 24 & 26, 7:30 p.m.

Sunday, Feb. 25, 2:00 p.m. 

Tustin Studio Theatre

$7/$12 general admission

Content Advisory: God of Carnage features language related to race, sexuality, and ability that is commonly identified as violent or pejorative. The play is recommended for mature audiences.

Buy your tickets here!

On Gbenga Akinnagbe’s Luncheon Talk

By Sophia Spears

On Monday January 22nd, I joined a handful of students to have a conversation with actor, writer, and producer, Gbenga Akinnagbe. The room was lightly humming with conversation before Dustyn Martincich, from the Theatre Department, prompted Gbenga with the question: “Tell us about your undergraduate experience at Bucknell.” His face lit up, and he smiled from ear to ear. “I was not supposed to be here,” was how he began. 

Gbenga started wrestling during his junior year of high school, and thought it was a fluke that Bucknell offered him a position on their varsity wrestling team. No one at home had expected him to stay at Bucknell, but he eventually graduated with a Bachelor's degree in Political Science. Shockingly, Gbenga was not involved in theater before or during his time in college. He did not take an acting class or participate in any school production. In fact, his first job outside of college was working for the Federal government!

So how did he get into acting? Well, one day a colleague invited him to go see a play. Gbenga asked, out of curiosity, “how does a person become an actor?” To which his colleague replied with a scoff, saying that Gbenga was not capable of doing such a career. This ignited his competitive nature. Taking it as a challenge, he auditioned for a community theater in DC. After landing a role, and performing in front of an audience for the first time, he was hooked. 

He did not use his lack of acting experience as an excuse not to try. Instead, he overcame adversity by asking questions, seeking help, and following the advice of fellow actors. This included constantly reading plays, taking every opportunity to see live theater, and enrolling himself in acting classes. Everyday he “put himself out there,” by auditioning for everything that came his way. Little did he know that he was arming himself with the tools he needed to succeed in the industry.  

Today, Gbenga’s career spans over 20 years. He has been cast in two HBO series, The Wire and The Deuce and continues to perform in and write for various theater productions. When he ended his story and as students asked him a million questions, my key takeaway was this: What you study as an undergraduate does not determine your occupational fate. The world is open, so long as you are brave enough to be curious and say yes to opportunities. Additionally, despite his accolades, Gbenga was never chasing awards and fame. Instead, he strived for his own definition of success, which is to always do good work. First, work with integrity and do your best; then, the rest will follow.   

As a senior in the class of ’24, I often worry about my future outside of Bucknell. I sometimes ask myself: “Did I choose the right major? Did I do enough with my time here? Am I prepared for the ‘real’ world?” Gbenga’s story is about a student who was simply figuring it out, one day at a time. There was no way he could have predicted where his life would go. And now, he feels he is successful and in a good place. Overall, I was inspired, uplifted and comforted. I am so grateful to have heard his story, and I am so excited to see what comes next. 

T. Patrick Halley: “Make A Big Choice.”

By: Abby Campion

T. Patrick Halley, or T. Pat to his friends at Bucknell, is a New-York based actor and Bucknell grad. Having been apart of two professional productions of The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee, Patrick was thrilled to hear of Bucknell Theatre’s upcoming Spelling Bee auditions, growing eager to offer advice to the theatre students at his alma mater. In addition to Spelling Bee, Patrick has also been seen in several other Off-Broadway productions including In Love and Warcraft, Good People, The Taming of The Shrew, and The Bomb-Itty of Errors. 

On Saturday, January 20th, Bucknell students had the privilege of zooming in with Patrick as he shared his best tips on auditioning in the industry, with an added emphasis on auditioning for Spelling Bee. Patrick’s vast knowledge of the realm of musical theatre and beyond shone through during his deep-dive into “unpacking the text.” He placed an added importance on knowing “who you’re talking to,” and fully understanding that “you belong in the room.” When discussing how to approach Spelling Bee, our biggest takeaway from Patrick was to “make a big choice.” When it comes to Spelling Bee, a whacky musical comedy featuring an eclectic group of sixth-graders, everything goes. There are no structural barriers for portraying zany ten-year-olds, and Patrick made sure to strongly convey this. 

Patrick’s kindness and wisdom was further exemplified in the 20-minute individualized sessions that he offered to students as a chance to hone their craft. Whether students went in with their chosen monologue/song for their Spelling Bee audition or simply to receive general feedback, there was a sweeping consensus about Patrick. He was attentive, patient, kind, and tremendously helpful. First-year student Gabriella Cappelloni raved about Patrick, saying that he truly made her feel comfortable about her craft. “He gave me great constructive criticism . . . I truly saw my pieces grow in the thirty minutes that I spent with him.” Further commenting on Patrick’s teachings, Gabriella emphasized how Patrick had a “great balance of relating to students as he was a student himself, while also giving his professional experience working in the industry.” Gabriella will be performing as Logainne “Schwartzy” in Spelling Bee. 

I, myself, was able to secure a slot, and I went in with my monologue. After asking me to perform it an initial time, Patrick and I had a conversation about who it was I was talking to. He also directed me to more opportunities within the monologue for physical comedy, and recommended that I expand on my characterization. He challenged me to look beyond the scope of what I had practiced, and, of course, “make a big choice.” I learned from Patrick that there’s an infinite amount of space for creativity, and so, we should use it. 

Patrick’s guidance and genuine desire to see us succeed was evident in his Audition Workshop. We hope Patrick will return to Bucknell for a day and watch our production of Spelling Bee. Amidst his workshop, Patrick spoke fondly of his Bucknell theatre days, reminiscing about learning monologue tips from Bob Gainer and recalling his memories in Harvey. See The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee April 12-15 in the Harvey Powers Theatre.

KCACTF Finalist Kieran Calderwood: 

More Than a Contest 

By Kieran Calderwood

At noon last Wednesday, I arrived in Pittsburgh with members of the Bucknell theater department for the KCAC theater festival. That night we all watched a festival play, at the end of which the semifinalists for the Irene Ryan acting competition would be announced.

Applause rang out through the auditorium for the play’s cast. Then a theater professor named Matt Rifa, who had a luxuriant beard, walked onstage. First he told us that one hundred and ninety-eight students had submitted monologues to the first round, and that only thirty-two of them would make it to the next round. (I competed last year and hadn’t made it to the next round, so I wasn't expecting anything.) He then read the semi finalists' names aloud to the anxious theater. When each name was called, a small explosion of excitement went off around the theater full of competitors and their friends. It was sweet. I thought to myself,  Man, I wish my name was called. That would be wild. Then, to my shock, after about twenty-five names, Professor Rifa said “Kieran Calderwood.” Almost immediately my classmates were yelling and slapping my back—I was experiencing one of those explosions first-hand, and it was awesome. I was frozen in shock and excitement and soon, for another reason. As the last few names were announced, I realized that I would have a lot of work to do the next day. Rather than attend workshops with my friends, I was going to have to compete. The next day, the semifinalists had to present a monologue and a scene with a partner from their school.

When I got back to our hotel that night, my scene partner Paige and I ran our scene over and over while our wonderful professor, Anjalee Hutchinson, gave us feedback. After about an hour, around midnight, we decided that the scene was ready to present.

Nevertheless, before the competition the next day, I was very nervous. My armpits were sweating, and there was a lump in my throat. I’m not a theatre major. I hadn’t acted in front of an audience in seven months. Now I was supposed to compete in front of judges and a room full of great actors? Doubt was creeping in, and as I went onstage to introduce myself before performing, I fell apart. “Hi, my name is Kieran Calderwood and this is my wonderful scene partner, Paige Gilmartin. Today I’ll be performing a monologue from…” What was the name? “Uhh…” You look stupid. Say the name! “...from, frickin’...I’m sorry. I’m really nervous.” Then Paige, standing next to me, whispered “Fat Pig.” Fortunately that wasn’t an insult, but rather the name of the Neil LaBute play that my monologue was from. Paige’s help snapped me back into focus. I finished the introduction, took a breath, and began the monologue I had read hundreds of times. 

Three minutes later, Paige and I had finished our scene, and we were walking out of the theater to the sound of applause. We did it. Kind of. The slate was bad, but they weren’t supposed to judge the slate. It was a toss-up, but I felt good about my performance, really good.

Fast-forward to that night: I was sitting in a room with the other competitors. Anjalee and a few students from Bucknell were with me, waiting to hear the finalists’ names announced. As names were read, I slowly accepted that there were a lot of very good actors here and—“Kieran Calderwood.” HUH? I turned to Anjalee and saw that she had a smile that matched mine. All of a sudden, I was getting hugs from my friends and laughing semi-hysterically. Paige came over to me and said, “Looks like we’ve gotta do that again. Go practice your slate.”

Looks like I’ve got another two busy days. The finals were on Saturday, which gave me and Paige Friday to work on our scene. The finals had the addition of another monologue. I would have to present a monologue from Electra, a monologue from Fat Pig, and a scene with Paige from As You Like It. I would have six minutes to perform all three back-to-back.

I workshopped the Electra monologue for hours on Friday, aiming to give vulnerability to Orestes, the Greek hero. I found beats within the scene, as many beats as I could. I changed the blocking from static kneeling the entire time to continuous movement. Once it was ready, I went to bed.

I went to the gym before my Saturday performance to help calm my nerves and blow off some energy. It helped. I was barely able to eat afterward—my stomach felt sick. The nerves were coming back. As I sat in a stairwell backstage alongside Paige and the other waiting competitors, I felt the lump in my throat return.  But then, finally, I was hit by a bigger perspective. This is theatre, man. You’re performing a PLAY. You should be excited. You’ve got nothing to lose. You’re ready. Have fun with it! 

These thoughts, along with encouragement from Paige, brought me out of my head. I loosened up a bit. I woke up. As I was about to go onstage, I realized my shoe was untied. Normally I don’t put effort into the tying of my shoes. But in that moment, I got on one knee and tied my shoe well, confidently. I switched knees and re-tied the other shoe, which had also been poorly tied. I walked out onstage with my well-tied shoes and with purpose. 

The slate went well. The monologues flowed. The scene was great. I walked off to more applause than in the semifinals. I gave Paige a big hug offstage and sat down with a realization that meant more than any contest or judge could mean: That was the best acting I’ve ever done. 

Awards, Events, & Bucknell Rep at KCACTF

By: Joselyn Busato 

This past week, several students in the Bucknell Theatre Department attended the Kennedy Center American College Theatre Festival (KCACTF) in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Here, the students competed in acting, playwriting, and directing competitions; attended workshops led by professionals; performed in staged one-act and ten-minute plays; and were given the opportunity to watch performances by neighboring colleges. Several Bucknellians had notable achievements at this year’s festival, with two bringing home awards.

Four students were nominated by Kennedy Center respondents to compete in the Irene Ryans Acting Competition (Reid Fournier ’24, Kieran Calderwood ’24, Tseday Robinson ’24, and Madison Buckley ’24), and Zoe Kemp ’24 self-nominated with the support of acting program faculty advisor Anjalee Hutchinson. Students had to prepare two monologues and a scene with a partner to showcase their skills for judges. Of these five, Kieran Calderwood advanced to the semifinal and final rounds, alongside his scene partner Paige Gilmartin (’26). Kieran is the first to have advanced to the final round from Bucknell in many years. Two students participated in the Musical Theatre Intensive Competition, in which they sent self-tapes performing an excerpt of a musical theatre song. These students were Harper Dick (’25) and Jaela Rivera (’27). Two other students participated in the directing competition (Ariel Urich ’25 and Caroline Pritchard ’26). These students were given the challenge of casting and directing 10-minute or one-act plays written by students. These plays were performed as staged readings at a showcase. Two Bucknell students, Maya Gurung (’26) and Tseday Robinson (’24) were cast and performed in these staged readings. Maya Gurung went on to receive an award for her performance in a one-act play, highlighting her chemistry with her fellow cast members. One of the plays performed was submitted by a Bucknell student, Joselyn Busato (’24). Her 10-minute play “Cytokinesis” was selected to be performed at the festival and then was chosen as one of two regional finalists for the Region 2 festival. Joselyn’s play has the chance to be selected among other finalists across the country to move on to the national competition at the Kennedy Center in Washington D.C. The first and second place recipients moving on to the national conference will be announced in March.

While the students representing Bucknell were involved in many different facets of the conference, they all could agree on how enjoyable it was immersing themselves in the world of theatre, as well as cheering on their peers in their accomplishments.

The Joy of Arts Merit Weekend

By: Zoe Fleury

Arts Merit Weekend is the reason I’m at Bucknell. It was February of last year and I had no idea where I was going to go to college. I had just gotten rejected from my early decision and stupidly didn’t have a plan after that. I came to Bucknell for a tour in January and loved it but wasn’t completely sure. Luckily, my tour guide was Alice Jackins, who is extremely involved in theatre at Bucknell. She told me I should sign up for Arts Merit Weekend and after a few emails, I was on the list. 

Arts Merit Weekend consists of a welcome ceremony, an audition, and a closing. The purpose of it is to audition for the opportunity to be an Arts Merit Scholar here at Bucknell. What I didn’t know was that it would be so much more than an audition. I was so nervous going into it, but looking back, all my fears were unfounded. I arrived and instantly, a bunch of people greeted me and started talking to me, they all seemed so happy to be there. My group (the theatre and dance auditionees) went to Harvey Powers Theater for pizza. There was this crazy man in a kilt named Hutch serving everyone and trying to learn everyone’s names while the current Merit Scholars mingled with us high-schoolers. I went up to get some pizza and Hutch asked for my name. I told him it was Zoe and he yelled “FLEURY!!!” I couldn’t believe he remembered my last name from our emails, and I felt really special and disarmed at that moment. 

I learned so much in that short hour and a half, both about Bucknell and about what I wanted. The people I met were so warm and kind to me. They really seemed like they wanted me there. The next day was audition day, and I was scared shitless. To be completely frank, I don’t remember much about the audition itself but rather waiting in the Black Box Theater in Tustin for my turn. There were two auditionees other than myself and some current merits waited with us while the others went. 

I had never had so much fun right before an audition. Just chatting with these amazing people, exchanging stories and laughs, is how I knew this was the place for me. Looking back, it’s crazy to me that those people waiting with me would become my friends, and the crazy man in the kilt one of my greatest mentors. Being a merit at Bucknell, I’ve been in two shows, both the quintessential First Year Show and the fall mainstage Men on Boats. I’ve also had the opportunity to do an audition workshop with Bucknell alum, Patrick Henry, who taught me incredible strategies. Arts Merit Weekend shaped my entire college application experience, and being a merit at Bucknell is the best outcome I could’ve asked for.

Congratulations to Bucknell Theatre’s Professor Bryan Vandevender for receiving tenure!

[he-said-irene]

Idk if this is anything but I’m thinking about Hickey’s look of shocked betrayal when Tuunbaq bites his arm off and how it’s the same shocked betrayal as when Crozier orders him punished and that probably says something interesting about Hickey and his downfall and thinking he can just tick off all these boxes and follow this neat formula and get someone under his power BUT I’m too preoccupied thinking about what it says about Crozier and Tuunbaq. The possibilities of parallels there is very interesting and might be a bit of a stretch but I’m thinking about how their leaders (Crozier had Sir John. Tuunbaq had Silna’s father.) are both dead and they’re left to deal with this element in their environment that is Not Supposed To Be There (Hickey on Crozier’s ship, all these blundering sailors in the Arctic ecosystem Tuunbaq is supposed to protect.) and it’s not a very neat parallel (and I think it’s better because of that) but they both end locked in this struggle as Tuunbaq chokes on Crozier’s Problem and Crozier is the last surviving member of Tuunbaq’s problem and he outlives him in one sense but in another sense is swallowed up by the environment. I don’t know what it means but darn if it doesn’t make me feel something...

#I'm just rambling #constantly chasing the high of high school lit class #the terror #francis crozier #tuunbaq #the terror amc #the terror s1 #meta

[the-dream-team]

What You Truly Are

I'd like to dedicate this fic to @thejilyship & my cousin, Alex <3

Years of doubt and confusion about her sexuality were thrown away the instant Lily met James Potter.

Mr. Slughorn had assigned James to partner with her in Chemistry because he was new to Hogwarts Prep and she was top of the class. He had kind, hazel eyes hidden behind wire-rimmed glasses and a curly mop of bangs that immediately grabbed her attention. He was smiley and funny and perfectly content with his own shortcomings when it came to Science, happy to let her take the lead on their lab, something most boys would never set aside their egos to do.

But James wasn’t like most boys. He complimented things like her handwriting or how kind she was to strangers instead of the clothes she wore or the color of her hair. Plus, he seemed unconcerned with appearances and popularity, instead focused almost completely on making the school’s soccer team.

He spoke about soccer constantly, and Lily loved the way he lit up when talking about the training he’d been doing for tryouts and the way he’d managed to complete a bicycle kick for the first time. She’d be lying if she had her doubts whether James would make the team, what with his slight build and short stature. The boys on Hogwarts Prep’s Varsity team were all about a head taller, sixty pounds heavier, and had actually defined muscles, which James lacked.

But that was what drew Lily to him. He was softer, blushed easily, giggled openly. There was a feminine energy to the boy that clicked all the gears into place. All this time, Lily had been straight, it just so happened that she preferred boys that were a bit more effeminate. Boys like James.

When he actually made the soccer team, she was the first person he told, wrapping her in a wonderfully intoxicating hug outside of her dorm room, his smooth, soft hands brushing her neck in a way that sparked an ember of hope that maybe he looked at her the same way she looked at him. They spent the rest of the evening celebrating in the cafeteria with slices of pizza and unlimited soft serve, discussing the team’s first match against Durmstrang High. Lily admitted that she’d always loved playing soccer as a kid and how she wished Hogwarts had a girl’s team. James looked at her with an entire forest fire behind his eyes and said with a surprising level of intensity that it was bullshit that the team wasn’t co-ed.

The next day he showed up to her room, a smile on his lips and a soccer ball under his arm. He took her to the fields and they ran drills and practiced shooting on each other until the sun began to set. She never thought she understood a ‘runner’s high’ until they raced the length of the field as blues and purples chased pinks and oranges in the sky, sprinting against each other until their lungs emptied out and their legs gave in. They tumbled onto the cool, evening grass, shoulder to shoulder, head to head, stealing glances and sharing laughter. She thought he might kiss her when they both turned their heads and parted lips, but instead, he sat up, mumbling something about it “not being fair to her.” Whatever that meant.

She tried to take a step back after that day, a silly effort to protect her heart. Maybe it just wasn’t the right time for her and James. Maybe they were better as friends. Plus, his big first game was in a matter of days and she wanted to support him in every way she could. Distracting him with her feelings wouldn’t be helpful…

And that decision seemed to be for the best when Hogwarts beat Durmstrang handily four to one, with James scoring three of their goals. The bleachers erupted into applause as the buzzer went off at the end of the game, but no one was louder than Lily as she cheered for James, who was lifted up by his teammates like a king on his throne.

Lily found herself running down to the field, searching for James in the crowds of fans, hoping to hug him the way they’d hugged before. When she finally spotted him, he’d been approached by the school’s broadcasting club and his face was blasted onto the jumbotron, his voice carrying over the speaker system.

“James Potter, you’re clearly the breakout star of the game today,” said a student reporter into a microphone. “Any thoughts you’d like to share with us today?”

Lily pushed through the swarms of fans, finally making it to the camera crew, and when James saw her smiling at him, his eyes flashed.

“Yeah, I’ve got some thoughts,” he said, his voice echoing around the field and bleachers. “I think Hogwarts should let girls onto the team because they can be just as good as the boys.” He was met by a chorus of confused chatter and a handful of boos. But Lily’s heart soared. “Sure, boo all you want, but I think you’d be surprised to know a girl was Hogwart’s highest scorer in today’s match!”

The jeering turned to a strange mix of laughter and dismissive shouts, causing James’ face to scrunch up. Lily’s heart pounded through her ears.

“It’s me!” James shouted, flustered frustration lining his (her?) face. “I’m the girl! My name isn’t James, it’s Jamie!”

Lily’s jaw hit the floor and her stomach swooped as James- no, Jamie- reached up to fiddle with her hair, grabbed a hidden bobby pin, and let a mess of wavy curls fall to her shoulders.

The crowd continued their shouting, mostly echoing a strange chant of “prove it, prove it!” until Jamie finally rolled her eyes, sent Lily a smirk and a shrug, and grabbed the hem of her jersey, pulling it up to her nose.

The crowd let out a collective gasp, and Lily quickly came to terms with her sexuality.

Once the cameras turned off, Jamie was immediately in front of her, eyes wide and waiting, lip caught between her teeth with a worry that Lily wanted to immediately wipe off.

“I’m sorry, Lily,” she started, “I didn’t mean to trick you or anything like that, but I didn’t expect to meet someone like you and-”

Lily rushed forward, feeling more secure in her thoughts and feelings than ever before, and grabbed Jamie’s face, pulling the girl down until their lips met in a collision of soft smiles, unwavering happiness, and plenty of giggling.

#jily fic #jily #she's the man #surprise! #fem!jily #also technically #shirtless jp may #(shirtless jamie potter may heyooo) #wlw

[anotheranimestan]

Sweet Intoxication

Tamaki fans!! Come get yo juice!

Tamaki fluff with a lil spice (just a lil)

wc: 3.2k

I can’t be the only one who thinks the Suneater is 🤤 I could write about him for days

Being UA High’s #4 ranked third year, it’s no surprise you’d created a great friendship with the Big Three. You were particularly close with the group’s resident “kitten” as Nejire liked to call him. You met during your first year when you were sat next to each other during class. He was so shy and wouldn’t talk to anyone except Mirio, even despite your many attempts at making conversation.

Until one day, you hurt yourself during practical training and he offered to walk you to the nurses office (much to everyone’s surprise). The entire time he was dead silent with a look of pure embarrassment across his face since you had to cling to him to walk. Once he dropped you off you expected him to leave while Recovery Girl fixed you up. But when you exited the office, there he was. Sitting on the floor waiting for you, his face riddle with concern.

When he spotted you his eyes lit up. “So um-are you okay y/n?”

It was the first time you got to hear his soft voice so clearly. It made your heart swell. You knew right then you wanted to keep him.

Ever after that moment you two stayed close and kept an eye on each other. He was still timid at first but over the years it blossomed into an air-tight friendship. You were practically apart of the Amajiki family after the amount of dinners you had with them. Not a day went by that you two didn’t walk home from school together.

That is until today. You see, during lunch Nejire let it slip that Tamaki had a crush on you when she thought you couldn’t hear. Little did she know you were standing right behind her as you approached the lunch table.

You were so caught off guard and your eyes grew wide as you locked eyes with your best friend. His face was pure horrid humiliation. Mirio desperately tried to make light of the situation and pretend it was all a joke but the damage had already been done.

Tamaki immediately fled the cafeteria, knocking over a few first years on his way out.

You were still frozen in place trying to process what was happening. You definitely didn’t expect him to have a crush on anyone, let alone you. He never talked about romantic interests like that. And considering he tells you almost everything on his mind you’d think you’d have some sort of inkling about this.

Your train of thought was quickly interrupted by the horrible thought of how much of a hit to Tamaki’s self-confidence this probably was. He’d become so much stronger and more social. You couldn’t let all his hard work get reversed.

You chased after him but he was gone. Disappeared off the face of the planet for the rest of the day.

You were worried sick and couldn’t think about anything else but finding him.

As soon as the final bell rang you bolted for the Amajiki house. Of course his mother let you in with no hesitations and immediately informed you of his exact location (His room. Where else? That’s where he was always hiding). Although the suspicious look on her face told you that Tamaki’s condition must be bad. He probably came home early and locked himself away without a word. Not completely out of character, let’s be honest, but still it didn’t put you at ease.

You slowly approached his door trying to form some kind of plan to fix this. What was the best tactic though? Should you tell him? Tell him that you’ve secretly been crushing on him this whole time? Since that day at the nurse’s office when he held your hand for the first time? When his voice alone captured your heart. You were sick over the thought. You’d desperately tried to keep it a secret and hadn’t told anyone, even Nejire (for obvious reasons). You were scared that you’d scare him away with your feelings. You’d rather have him as a friend than nothing but that didn’t stop you from constantly dreaming of kissing him or holding hands again or cuddling every night while watching his favorite movies.

You didn’t have an exact plan but you desperately wanted him back so you had to try something. Anything.

The door was locked. You knocked as gently as possible. He was easy to scare.

“Tamaki? It’s me. Let me in.”

You heard a miserable groan from behind the door. “Please leave me alone to die.” He plead from inside. Always one for the dramatics. Something you secretly loved.

“Come on! You’re really going to lock me out like this? A bit dramatic don’t you think?” You insisted, slightly amused.

And just like that the lock clicked open. You let yourself in. It was dark except a little glowing ball lamp in the corner of the room that illuminated everything up with an indigo glow.

He was sitting on his bed against the wall, hugging his knees and burying his face.

You shut the door behind you and stood for a moment. You really just wanted to run over there and cuddle him. Tell him every reason you’re putty for him. But you didn’t want to push him. There was an art to dealing with a mopey Tamaki and you knew it well.

“So how long have you been sitting up here? I hope you at least finally ate some lunch.”

He peeked his head up at you. You were rustling a bag filled with his favorite snacks. You saved these in your locker for moments exactly like these.

Your heart fluttered when you saw those eyes you loved so much. Although his eyebrow were furrowed in embarrassment, still, he looked adorable as ever.

You took this moment as an opening and slowly approached, careful not to spook.

You took the spot directly in front of him. He’d still not managed to look you directly in the eyes.

“Sooo...” This is where you had no game plan left.

You finally had the chance to feel nervous now that you knew he was okay. Your heart started racing in your chest as the anxiety coursed through your body.

“This is the worst day of my life.” He concluded covering his face again with his hands.

You rolled your eyes. “I think there are worse things.”

“Like what?” He said like he was proving a point.

“Like...” You exhaled and gave your honest answer without thinking. “losing your best friend.”

He groaned again. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, y/n!”

Your head tilted. “What?”

“I can never talk to you again now.” The pure teenage agony in his voice was ridiculous.

You giggled. “You’re talking to me right now, dummy.”

“And now you’re laughing at me.” He leaned his head back against the wall in distress.

You reached up and grabbed one of his hands, pulling it away from his face.

“I’ll be very offended if you stop talking to me.” You inform him with humor in your tone.

He looked down at you finally. You were breaking through.

“But...aren’t you weirded out?” He was grimacing at the horrible cafeteria memory that had been replaying nonstop in his mind.

You laughed.

“No more weirded out than usual.” You poke him in the stomach. He was aggressively ticklish so he jumped and grabbed your hand instinctively. Now you could see his whole face again and you were so relieved. You missed it.

His eyes were trained on your hands and he nervously played with your fingers. He did this a lot and it always sent butterflies flying in your stomach.

“You ran out the cafeteria so fast you didn’t even stay for my reaction. Also, those first years are gonna be looking for revenge tomorrow.”

He cracked a tiny smile.

“So...what is your reaction?”

The nerves were really electric now. You almost panicked. Were you really about to admit to your long time crush just how head over heels you were for him?

You were silent for a while which didn’t put Tamaki at ease. He was sure you were going to reject him. You were way out of his league. You were heavenly and pure beauty in his eyes. You could make him warm just by smiling at him that’s how much he loved your aura. How could you be into a loser like him. He could barely stand up straight next to you and the other members of the Big Three. You didn’t know it but right under the bed you sat on he had a hidden a sketch book filled with his drawings of you. Or at least attempts as he called them. He could never capture the curl of your eyelashes or the soft slope of your neck quite right. And the lips. They were always off. Yours had this perfect kissable quality to them that he wished he could experience rather than just draw onto paper.

His pining was interrupted by your sharp inhale as you began to answer. He looked at you under his thick lashes, dying to hear your response. It made your cheeks burn and the words get caught in your throat. Your mind must have overheated because it completely shut down and your body acted on its own.

You didn’t say a word. You just pulled his legs down from against his body and climbed onto him. You wrapped your arms and legs completely around his body like a teddy bear and squeezed him tight.

At first he was stunned but quickly recovered and hugged you back. Your hair was completely covering his face but it was comforting being indulged in your familiar scent of shampoo.

You two confided in each other for a long moment. No words could express what you were trying to say.

After a while you pulled back to look at him. Big mistake. The soft glow of the rich indigo light made him look dream-like. Suddenly you were picturing all the things you had been imagining doing with him...to him.

He wasn’t blind to the way you were staring at him. Blank eyes lost in thought and lips parted like they wanted something. You looked angelic. Sitting on his lap and holding him tight. You were exactly what he needed.

He knew this could be the moment he’d been waiting for all these years. But of course his usual anxiety was holding him back from experiencing you like he wanted. You were so so perfect. He couldn’t possibly...

Your brain switched on just for a moment to spill out a few incoherent words. “I want...this....you. I’ve been.”

Overwhelmed by your words he finally gave into his desires as his head dipped down into the nook of your neck. His lips hovered over your skin and you felt his hot breath ticking your sensitive spot. You wished he wasn’t so hesitant but you could also easily savor this moment forever. Tamaki was finally satisfying your craving for him.

Your hand rolled up gently into his silky hair and your eyes fluttered shut when he finally made contact.

His lips were so soft and molded perfectly into the curve of your neck. He slowly trailed around your collar bones and up to your ear.

Your face nuzzled into him as he tasted you.

His gentle touch made your heart swell and bespelled your body to curl into him more and more.

His tongue began grazing the tender skin he’d laid the ground work on. Dragging circles around your sweet spots and sealing them with kisses. His warm breath sending chills through your through your muscles.

The sweet rhythm of his breathing, his snug hold on your waist and the vibrating hums of enjoyment resounding in his chest...

He was mesmerizing. This little Suneater easily held you in a trance like it was nothing and without even knowing it. Your body was soft like dough, molding into him as you succumbed to his warmth. Your head had fallen limp to the side so he could access as much as he desired.

His voice was thick like honey as he shyly spoke into your ear. “You...taste really good.”

Your eyes were still locked shut, under hypnosis but a smile spread across your face.

“Does that mean one of your limbs is going to turn into me?” You said with a drunk little giggle.

He noticeably shrunk under your words. “Please don’t tease me. You’re making me so nervous already.” He cried desperately.

Your eyes finally cracked open to look at him properly. His face was wrapped in conflict and self-doubt as usual.

So many responses flashed through your mind but only one managed it’s way past your lips. There was truly only one thing you wanted to say anyways. “Can you kiss me please?”

You needed more of him, his previous performance already had you hooked and aching.

Red flush spread across his cheekbones and the tips of his pointy ears. His gaze fell under as he considered something. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time. I’m honestly surprised I’m even getting the chance.”

As if you weren’t already deep under his spell, his words managed to further melt you like butter.

His voice was dark velvet. A sharp contrast to his normal shaky tone. “I just want to ask...do you really like me?”

“Tamaki...forget like...I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

Your words slipped out of your mouth but it was like hearing them underwater. You were so detached from reality in this moment. Just pure bliss was conducting your movements while your mind was on hiatus.

His red washed face turned bashful as he tried to comprehend your words. He couldn’t stop a cute little grin from spreading across his face.

Before he could recover enough to verbally respond, your thumb placed itself on his bottom lip that was still lightly swollen from exploring your neck. The weight of your hand pulled it down to expose his pearly white bottom teeth.

This pouty look made him even more appealing, your mouth was practically watering at the handsome sight before you.

He acknowledged your hungry look as his invitation and his pouty lip puckered around the pad of your thumb. He placed kisses on each of your fingers and finally your knuckles before he pulled you close to him.

The movement wafted some of his cologne into your nose and just like that you were drunk on him again. He could have you.

His lips pressed into yours and it was like your whole world came to fruition. You realized then just how badly you’d wanted this. He trapped your bottom lip and gently sucked letting his tongue start it’s magic again.

Your arms contracted around his neck to pull him as close as possible and he respectively deepened his kiss.

He nibbled on your lip just enough for butterflies to start flapping around on your chest. Just when you think you’ve hit sensory overload he whips out something new. You already identified kissing him as your new addiction before your first kiss was even over.

His confidence was slowly building as he became more familiar with the curves of your mouth. Assessing exactly what you were liking by the barely audible gasps of euphoria you were making.

He strung you along for a while like this, each next move being more endearing than the last until finally he pulled away to give your lungs a chance to pull in some air. Obviously you didn’t want oxygen right now but at least you got to be intoxicated by some more of his scent.

“You’re so pretty.” He mused as his eyes glazed over your features. “And—and your lips are really soft.”

Suddenly a little self-consciousness washed over you. You weren’t used to his compliments like that. You accommodated this by nuzzling your face into his. Your lips were drawn to his cheek and you littered kissed all over, using your other hand to trace his jawline. He closed his eyes so he could focus on your touch. It was sending him over an edge having you on him like this. You felt his breathing deepen as you started gently sucking on the nook of his neck. Your hand fell and started exploring his chest. He didn’t look it but he was concealing muscle under his baggy shirts and you were dying to feel them.

Just when your teeth grazed the red blood pooled spot you’d been working on, a soft moan escaped his lips. He was lost under your control.

Without warning he shifted you down on your back with ease. Taking care to support your head as you fell onto the pillow.

He crawled on top of you between your legs and supported his weight on his forearms.

This sudden bold streak was really turning you on.

He spared no time as he tugged your shirt collar down just a bit to expose that sensitive part of your neck again that he just loved so much.

His tongue teased it with a few gentle circles before his mouth came down instense and started sucking.

Normally this sort of thing would hurt but you were so entranced that it only felt like a rush of intense pleasure. You ran your fingers through his hair encouraging him to do exactly what you suspected he was doing. You squirmed gently under his heavy body as he targeted your neck. Your hands slipped under his shirt and you got to feel the smooth skin over his broad back muscles which contracted as he moved.

Suddenly you let out a little squeal as the pleasure turned to a little shooting pain. He snapped out of it and brought his face back to yours. Nose to nose.

You glanced down at his work to see a little red bruise the size of a coin. For some reason you loved the idea of Tamaki giving you a little mark.

“Sorry y/n, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You bit your lip, his concerned face was so cute. It reminded you of that day so long ago when you first realized you wanted him.

“Put another one.” You said only half joking.

He laughed nervously. You took his face in both your hands. Today couldn’t have gone more perfectly.

“I didn’t reply before but...I want you too.” He mews with soft eyes.

Just when you think your body is completely melted, he finds one more spot he missed.

He placed a few more gentle honeyed kisses on your lips before anyone could say anything else.

But much to your dissatisfaction, you heard Mrs. Amajiki call for dinner. You were prepared to aggressively reject this interruption but Tamaki’s smile broke your resolve.

He tucked some hair behind your ear as he spoke again after what felt like hour had passed since the last time. “Can we do this again like...soon?”

He was aggressively adorable you could barely stand it. You merely nodded in response you couldn’t possibly form any coherent words right now.

You laid there, trying to unmelt yourself with little success. You could only gaze at your little Suneater with twinkling admiration in your eyes as he lifted you to stand up in his arms.

His new love bite was still exposed on your neck. He pulled your sweater up to cover it and kissed it through fabric as he muttered a few more quiet apologies. You immediately started thinking of ways you could try to permanently keep it on your skin.

You eventually walk down to dinner together holding hands, fingers interlocked. Yea...he was definitely your new addiction.

~~

Thanks for reading 🥰

#tamaki headcanons #tamaki amajiki #amajiki tamaki #bnha tamaki #tamaki icons #tamaki x reader #tamaki fluff #bnha amajiki #mha tamaki #mha fluff #mha #mha fanfiction #tamaki fanart #tamaki fanfic #the big three #my hero headcanons #my hero fluff #my hero academia #my hero tamaki #my hero imagines #my hero academia fluff

[roanniom]

Phillip and Miss Perfect

Phillip Altman x Reader

Word Count: 2,866

Part 1/?

Summary: Back in high school you were a perfectionist and he was a charming douche. You’ve spent years suppressing the feelings he awakened in you senior year because you’re better than that, right? You’ll sure find out now that you’re back home for the holidays right in time to run back into him.

Warnings: NSFW. Language. Masturbation (F/M kinda). Gratuitous Altman charm.  

Phillip Altman had long been the bane of your existence. Phillip and his cheeky grin and his gaggle of older siblings whose mere existence somehow afforded him an untouchable cool status amongst the weaker minded of your peers. A status you’d always felt was completely unearned as he swaggered through the halls of your high school, winking at pretty girls and tossing innuendo-laden comments to his fawning admirers.  

Yes Phillip Altman, you’d decided long ago, was the bane of your existence.

Handsome and arrogant and too smart for his own good, not that he ever applied himself, for crying out loud. It was senior year that solidified your loathing for the boy. Mr. Weathers had paired the two of you together for the group-project winter final. Only a sadist would assign a group project for a final, so you should have seen it coming. Always the instigator, the old man had been thoroughly entertained by the way you and Phillip would constantly bicker in class. Though “bickering” probably wasn’t the right word considering that the interactions were less a volleying of insults and more a pattern of Phillip smoothly complimenting you and you spewing vitriol back in response.

“My place or yours?”

Your head had snapped up hard when you heard the baritone voice laced with amusement too close for comfort a few moments after Mr. Weather’s class had ended.

“Altman. What have we said about my personal bubble?” You made sure your voice dripped with venom. Phillip straightened from where he had leaned to whisper in your ear as you placed books into your locker.

“Your personal bubble is your own and I am not allowed inside it,” he rambled off, as though reciting a vow from memory. After a breath he wiggled his eyebrows and added, “unless expressly invited.”

“In your sticky dreams,” you shot back.

“Every night, Miss Perfect,” Phillip said, giving a roguish half-smile that you wanted to slap off his face. Instead you slammed your locker door and stalked off.

“So, your place it is then?” Phillip called to your retreating back. You ignored him. He cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted after you, making sure that everyone in the hallway could hear his humor-tinged voice.

“Parting is such sweet sorrow, Juliet!”

“We’re presenting on Hamlet, moron,” you said, shooting him a look over your shoulder as you continued to walk away. “That quote you just bastardized is Romeo and Juliet.”

Phillip had just laughed and walked in the opposite direction. Leaving you to fume on your way to the bus while wondering seriously to yourself if murder would be enough to make colleges take back the early acceptances you’d already received.

~*~

And so you two had spent one blustery weekend in early December holed away in your bedroom. You trying desperately to keep Phillip’s tiny attention span from wandering to your panty drawer long enough for a presentation on the themes of Hamlet to miraculously get written. Phillip trying desperately to get into said panty drawer and avoid the slaps you repeatedly sent his way. To the surprise of absolutely no one, you both failed tremendously on all accounts. Your mom certainly didn’t help matters by bustling in with Christmas cookies and cooing comments to Phillip about how cute he was. True to form, he thanked her through a mouthful of gingerbread before throwing an infuriating wink your way. That was it. You knew you and your perfect grades were doomed.

And yet on the day of the presentation, something crazy (a miracle, if you’re sappy) did occur. Phillip pulled – out of his ass, presumably – a 180 and gave a performance to rival anything old Willy-Shakes could have staged. Not only did he express a genuine and insightful knowledge of the themes of the play, but he was also a generous presenter, setting you up for and supporting you in points that even made you, the top of the class, look better. As Mr. Weathers complimented the two of you on your efforts at the end of the presentation, you couldn’t help but stare at Phillip, struck for the first time by the way his hair curled a little at the ends and the way his eyes sparkled under the attention of the class. You didn’t like admitting it to yourself, but your stomach was in knots. Phillip parading around like he’s god’s gift to high school girls? Gross. Phillip confidently presenting literary analysis and showing a glimmer of genuine intelligence? Fucking hot.

After class you’d felt a little intimidated at the prospect of talking to him. You weren’t sure why. It was Phillip Fucking Altman, class clown and grade-A pain in your ass. You watched him out of the corner of your eye as you slid your books back into your bag. His frame stood out amongst the small circle of his friends, his dumb, tall body making it so that you could always see him from far away.  

You gripped your bag close to your body and walked briskly toward the door, deciding against any further interaction with the boy whose eyes had suddenly made your cheeks grow hot for the first time in all the years you’d known his stupid ass. As you walked by, however, he broke away from his friends and chased after you, calling your name. You didn’t stop until you reached the destination of your locker down the hall.

“Hey, so it seems like we killed it in there.” Phillip leaned against the next locker, slightly breathless from having jogged to catch up with you. It was after sixth period on the last day of the semester, and the last few stragglers filtered through the hall on their way to the sweet freedom of winter break.

“Yeah, I guess we did alright, didn’t we?” you said noncommittally, refusing to look up from organizing the inside of your locker.

“Alright? Pretty sure Weathers jizzed his pants when you brought up biblical allegory,” Phillip let out a bark of a laugh.

“Only you could make academic achievement sound vulgar, Altman,” you said, trying but failing to hide the smile that broke across your face.

“It’s not as hard as it seems. All of those stuffy writers were pervs. You know Mary Shelley fucked Lord Byron on her mother’s grave? And that horny bitch wrote Frankenstein!” His smile lit up the corner of your vision and you looked up, blushing at how cute his stupid crooked teeth looked all of a sudden.

“She fucked Percy Shelley on her mother’s grave, not Lord Byron, you idiot,” you replied, rolling your eyes. Phillip’s eyebrows had shot up and his smile had grown wider.

“Well, well Miss Perfect. Never took you for a girl who reads the naughty books, too.”

“Shove it, Altman.” You punched out at his arm, but he successfully dodged, finally demonstrating fast reflexes for once after years of similar assaults from you.

“Well either way, we did it! We made Lit our bitch – up top!” He offered up a hand which you high fived reluctantly. Before you could pull your hand away, his large one wrapped around yours and he yanked you forward. Your body crashed into his and before you could flail, he wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug.

You were too shocked by the action to move, too surprised by the feeling of his strong arms twisting around your back and his hard body against your breasts. You’d always known Phillip was hot, it was one of the things you hated him for. But feeling the evidence of that hotness against you? You felt the knot in your stomach from earlier drop a little lower.

Phillip ducked his head down to the crook of your neck, his warm breath blowing on your ear. You became hyper aware of the silence in the empty hallway, marveling at the fact that there was no one there to witness the sudden intimacy of this weird moment. Was there a memo you’d missed about a Christmas Fair that everyone had rushed off to? Damn. You took a breath to speak but Phillip cut you off, the vibrations from his rumbling voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Yeah, yeah I know. Sorry about your personal bubble.”

You bit your lip, not trusting yourself to speak during this odd experience that balanced precariously in a space between uncomfortable and enticing.

“It’s just that…” Phillip began, but trailed off. Your heart beat in your throat, and somewhere lower, as he began swaying your bodies a little in place. This couldn’t be real, though nightmare or dream you couldn’t decide how you’d classify it. You felt his ribcage expand against you as he went to speak again, barely aware that your own breath was held captive in your chest in anticipation.

“I, too…jizzed in my pants when you brought up biblical allegory.”

It took a few seconds for his words to register in your mind before you reacted. Your hand connected with his face so hard you scared yourself with the volume of the sound. Both of you stood frozen and staring at each other for a moment after that. Him with his hand on his cheek where it had flown to shield his stinging skin and you with your hand suspended in air where it had reverberated back after impacting with his face.

Then Phillip began to laugh.

It was a full sound that echoed off the walls. Your face screwed up in response, immediately feeling shame heat your ears and cheeks. But then you noticed that his smile held no derision, no malice. He was genuinely entertained by the fact that, after all these times slapping him, you’d finally hit the mark dead on.

Your hand flew to cover your lips, dozens of emotions dancing on your features as you began to register the humor of the moment as well. However, you also felt foolish. Not a second before he’d let loose the comment that broke all your physical self-control your mind had been toying with the idea of losing physical self-control in a very different way. The hot, knotted feeling in your lower belly had not gone away with this turn of events, it had merely intensified. Your palm tingled where it had made contact with Phillip’s cheek.

The rush of emotions, so many and so dissonant, overwhelmed you. So you did the only thing you could. You slammed your locker door, ducked your head down, and ran for the door, leaving a very confused Phillip still chuckling to himself in your wake.

~*~

That night, laying in bed, you had chastised yourself for feeling what seemed to be every feeling but your usual hatred toward Phillip. This wouldn’t do. You were the top of the class. You hadn’t gotten this far for this long by having twisty turny feelings for stupid beautiful boys with crooked teeth and lots of charm.

Somewhere in your self-admonishment, however, your thoughts turned back to the feeling of his hard body against yours. His arms, large and muscled, containing you with such ease and solidity. The planes of his large chest as they pressed into your soft curves. Without even thinking much about it, your hands moved under your sheets, squeezing those curves.

The knotted feeling from before returned, but this time it was less of a knot and more of an ache. You knew the feeling. Had willed it away while watching movies where hot actors sucked too convincingly on the necks of their leading ladies. Had clumsily tried to remedy it with fumbling rubs and twisting legs on nights when the tension got to be too much.

But that night as you’d thought about Phillip Altman’s arms around you, your pointer finger moved to your clit, rubbing small circles around the sensitive nub. As you thought of Phillip Altman’s lips as he rambled confidently in front of a crowd, and Phillip Altman’s big nose scrunching as he winked at you across a classroom, and Phillip’s dimples as he laughed at one of your personalized insults, and Phillip Altman’s dick as it could be seen outlined in his athletic shorts during gym….

The ache inside grew and you felt your pussy clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled by something you hadn’t known you wanted. Haphazardly you thrust a finger inside your folds, the hand not preoccupied with circling your clit reaching up to grab one of your breasts.

You tried to imagine Phillip’s large hands replacing yours. Tried to imagine how he’d fill you, how he’d squeeze you. You could almost hear the way he’d put that already dirty mouth of his to good use.

“You want to cum, Miss Perfect? Hmm?” You imagined him saying. The vibrations from his deep voice rang through your mind, left over from when it had caused you to shiver earlier. “Want me in your personal bubble now?”

You whimpered in the darkness of your room, speeding up the friction on your clit and thrusting two more fingers in your slick heat. You imagined his lips at your neck, at your clavicle, at your sternum, sucking at the skin and tickling you with the stubbling facial hair he’d only been sporting since last summer.

“You’ve always been such a good girl,” the Phillip in your mind practically purred. You felt yourself reaching a precipice you’d never quite attained before. The muscles of your legs quaked and your squeezed your nipples, needing more of something.

“Why don’t you be a good girl for me and cum?”

Your whole body convulsed against the mattress and your muscles seized, your fingers trapped inside your pussy as it contracted over and over. You felt absolutely euphoric for a moment, almost nothing passing through your mind but the image of Phillip, smiling at you with that same, familiar, cheeky smile.

But as you came down from your high, your sweat ran cold with a realization. It had been your first orgasm. Phillip had caused your first orgasm. A mixture of shame and anger flooded your system as you curled into yourself. It wasn’t enough Phillip Altman was the golden boy of the school, it wasn’t enough that he could – and did – have any girl he wanted, he had to have your orgasm, too?

You felt silly but you also felt indignant. You had prided yourself on not being affected, on being above him. After all, why go after the boy who had it all and who only teased you because it felt like an accomplishment to make the smart girl squirm under his gaze?

No. You hated Phillip Altman and you wouldn’t let him have this. You silently thanked whatever militant non-secular whacko had pushed the Christmas agenda on the school system so hard that you had two weeks off now to help distance you from any interactions with the boy who plagued your mind.

You had drifted to sleep that night, unaware that several streets over, in a room very much like your own, Phillip Altman was tugging at his hard cock, groaning over thoughts of the girl who challenged him, the girl who yelled at him, the girl who slapped him. The one girl he was so sure he’d never get with, but who he wanted most.

~*~

Now, twelve years later, you wander down the baking aisle of the local grocery store, praying to all that is holy that you won’t bump into someone from your high school. After graduation you had peaced the fuck out, leaving for college on the opposite coast. You’d spent years convincing your parents that you were too busy with undergrad and then grad school and then publishing deadlines to ever make the crazy trip back to your hometown, instead baiting them into visiting you for warmer holidays that smelled of the beach and your new life. Two consecutive shitty breakups on your part and one knee replacement surgery on your mother’s part combined to turn this into the year that your parents insisted you finally made the pilgrimage home.

Which is how you find yourself on a winter night browsing the alternative flour selection, having been sent to look for the perfect gluten-free option that will make your mom’s gastrointestinal system “not blow up like a friggen balloon.” It was funny how not even a medical diagnosis could deter that woman from her festive baking habits. You’re deep in thought over the differences between coconut and almond when a deep voice rumbles out from your deepest memories, reverberating right into aisle four.

“You know I read your latest book.”

You look up and almost drop your two flours to the ground. Instead you fumble, gripping them tightly to your chest and causing vaporized coconut and almond to puff into the air in front of you.

As the powder settles out of your line of sight you see him. Phillip Altman. Twelve years older, with more facial hair and a couple laugh lines, but it’s him alright.

“Hey there, Miss Perfect.”

His nose crinkles as he winks at you. You intake breath sharply.

And choke on some flour.

It tastes like coconut. And you know then that you should have just trusted your gut and gone with almond.

You also know that you’re in trouble.

~*~

Tagging some very kind people who have been very welcoming: @mariesackler​ @direnightshade​ @safarigirlsp​ @sacklerscumrag​

#Phillip Altman #Phil Altman #This is Where I Leave You #Phillip Altman x Reader #fanfic #smut #Adam Driver #Writing #Roanniom

[nishinoya-can-rolling-thunder-me]

A Summer’s Night

Keishin Ukai x Reader

Summary: The two of you sneak out as children to escape the realities of the world and to enjoy the sweet ambiance of a summer’s night, but life always catches up and the years separate the two of you, but will fate and chance...and maybe a bit of meddling drive the two of you back together?

First time writing a Haikyuu one shot!!!! Sorry for typos, I started this last night and fell asleep and picked it back up between my classes

Masterlist

The crickets chirped alongside the buzzing of the mosquitoes that floated and buzzed on their never ending hunt for blood. They waited for any unsuspecting victim to land upon. Though your hand came crashing down upon a brave one that had tried to land upon your calf, though you froze at the sound of the harsh slap, looking back to your home over you shoulder as you paused, the door halfway closed. The silence that was met from the house sent a wave of relief through you as you finally closed the door shut, shoes clumsily tossed to the porch below to allow your feet to shove themselves in before you were running through the grass of your front yard, disturbing the crickets that jumped out and passed your feet to knock into your legs within the dimness of the moon and stars above. You only continued your running past the road and along the levis of the rice field and through the rows of plants of a farmer’s crop. Fireflies only shined and sparkled as they calmly watched your form continue it’s hurried place.

“Keishin...!” You finally whispered out once you stopped in front of a house, head whipping around to look about the yard and to the crops that surrounded it, though finally you jumped as you saw a door slide open and closed, a familiar buzzed head now appearing before you. Keishin was still clumsily shoving on his own shoes and straightening out the slightly baggy hoodie that hung off of his body slightly. Keishin was your best friend, always had been. The two of you would race to each other’s homes after school, would help out on the farms the two of you lived upon, spend summers together, and of course sneak out to meet each other on those very summer nights too. It was a habit that just...stayed for some reason. Sometimes the two of you would even make the journey to his grandfather’s house to play with one of Keishin’s volleyballs using his grandfather’s net....but you were never any good, but you liked the way Keishin would laugh at your own clumsiness. Also one time Granpa Ukai had woken up too, but thankfully the two of you quickly dipped out before he noticed...but you always had a sneaky suspicion that the old man knew something was up because he would always give you two a knowing look when the two of you would go to help with chores around his home.

“Sorry I’m late....my mom was walking around the kitchen, so I think she was having trouble sleeping, but I waited a bit until I think she fell asleep.” Keishin whispered out as he repositioned the tucked blanket he had under his arm, now stepping forward, motioning you to follow. “Bet I can beat you to the pump.” He said with a snort before bolting off, you giving a little gasp of disapproval before racing after him, your tinny legs almost being able to catch up with his, but his legs were far longer and he of course made it to the rusted water pump, blanket already in his hands and carefully being tossed out to the ground.

“No fair! Your legs are longer than mine!” You complained as you sat upon the blanket with a huff, he only rolling his eyes as he sat beside you now shoving his hands into his coat pocket, casting a glance at you. That’s glance moved into a sassy eye roll as he let his eyes wash over the crops that rolled out before the two of you in what seemed to go on forever. These summer nights were always the best. Just the two of you either talking away or enjoying the silence and company of each. Of course the mosquitoes were a con to all of it, but for these moments you would suffere any insect bite.

Except for a wasp....and maybe bees....those always hurt more than anything! Though you guessed you could deal with it even then, Keishin always knew how to nurture and tend to those stings that were afflicted upon you if your summer adventures ended up in an angered stinging insect’s path.

“Well then get longer legs...” Keishin finally teased you as he looked back to you, your tiny fist soon crushing down on his shoulder, the two of you now shooting off in a racket of giggles and laughs as the two of you chased each other through the fields, leaves rustling with the gust of wind your bodies would leave behind underneath the night stars and the bugs that tried to reach with all their might to touch them.

The years went on though and high school had hit. The two of you had stepped upon the school grounds of Karasuno with childish excitement, Grandpa Ukai trying to hurriedly explain where each and every area was and beckoning his teases in his rough way to say I love you to you and Keishin as the two of you rushed off and of course a reminder to join the boys volleyball club to Keishin and a possible manager position to you. Though that never really happened. It seemed like an ocean had began to form between you and your dear childhood friend. First it began with him always on about volleyball. You just didn’t understand, that wasn’t your fault or his. Your interest just didn’t settle their anymore. You joined the art club. Your allegiance was held there. The paint brushes and sketch books beckoned you with such a warm embrace. Keishin didn’t understand that love, which again wasn’t his fault or your own. Life just happens and people are always constantly evolving with what they like and dislikes. Sadly the two of you were just now the complete opposite. You were in the college prep classes as well, he wasn’t.

The ocean just continued to grow and grow, the rushing waves and strong tides tugging the two of you further and further away until your fingertips just couldn’t hold on tight enough no matter how much strength and might you put in. The two of you had created and tagged along with new friend groups and now pursued totally different things. Though late in the summer nights you would always let the sadness creep in to remind you of how much you missed chasing and running around into the late hours upon his family’s farm and a tear would always be shed for those fond and far off memories of your childhood friend.

Graduation was now far off in the distance and you used your free time as a freelance painter and of course a manga drawer that would be published within the black and white pages of the town’s newspaper, but that was mostly targeted towards the elderly residents. Then a part time job at your family’s little restaurant. You lived a happily and those high school memories now far off and hazy, the faces barely even memorable.

“Grandpa Ukai! I know I don’t see you doing these silly things out in this hot weather!” You called out as you pushed past the front gate, a basket balanced upon your hip. The children he was instructing now giggled at your scold and of course held a bit of fear at you talking to an elder in that manner, but of course the old man only waved you off as you sat upon the steps leading onto the porch of his house, bottle of water now brought up to his lips as you sat the basket beside him.

“Oh hush....they let me leave the hospital, therefore I am fine!” He spat out in a grouchy manner, though his face lit up as you handed him a scroll, his old fingers now unraveling it to admire the painting upon it. “Ah! Now this is art! Thank you! Let me go get the money.” He huffed at as he was preparing his old joints to lift him up from his spot, though you only waved him off.

“Now, let’s settle for a trade, I’ve been eyeing some of the produce that your little garden over there is producing.” You pointed out with a laugh, which he clicked his tongue with disdain.

“You aren’t gonna make any money with trades.” He huffed out, though he motioned a hand to the garden. “But be my guest, that damn thing is producing too much and I can’t eat it or sell it quick enough before the sun gets it or the wasp for that matter.” Ikkei grumbled as he watched you gather up your basket, he now up and telling the neighborhood kids to continue practicing, now standing beside you as you had squat down to be eye level with his plants, hands now expertly picking what was good, the leaves rustling as you pushed them aside to let your eyes wonder through their twist and turns on your little hunt for ripe vegetables. Though the old man was now beside you, placing vegetables carefully in your basket. “You know....Keishin wasn’t here not too long ago, had a little shrimp here to help learn a few things.” The man mumbled out with a sigh, you only casting a glance to him, but he continued on. “He may be an idiot, but I say he’s quite handsome, people do say he looks like a younger me.” He said which that got a little giggle from you “That boy is still single though along with you! You two are two old now! What if the two of you want to have children and what not.” He continued on, though you only gave a playful roll of your eyes.

“Grandpa Ukai, these days you shouldn’t pressure people to get married because they are getting too old.” You spoke out with a sigh as you looked over to him. “Besides, it’s not easy finding the right one either. Sometimes it takes time and patience which you lack sometimes.” You pointedly said to him which he only gave a sassy ‘humphf’ as he motioned for you to take the vegetables in his hands to place away in your basket. “And married life isn’t always for everyone you know.” You said in a sing song voice to try and lighten the seemingly heavy topic. You had gotten enough of this lecture from your own family, hearing from Ikkei just already set your brain into a hazy exhaustion.

“You and Keishin are both stubborn.....ever since the two of you were children....sneaking out to mess up my net after I told the two of you to ask first...” he muttered out, you freezing as you shot a glance to him, fingers almost busting the tomato in your hands. “The two of you were always loud even if you thought you were quieter than a mouse living amongst the shrines in my back yard.” Ikkei added with a chuckle as you looked away in slight embarrassment at the newly discovered blunder of your childhood. “Oh! The though I do have a favor to ask!” He groaned at as he lifted himself up from his own squaring position once your basket was almost full to the brim, now motioning you to follow him as he reach through the opening of his sliding doors to pull out a stalk of bananas, placing them within your basket to then draw over the cheese cloth you had brought along with you. “Bring this to the boy’s volleyball gym, they need the potassium.” He spoke out in a scolding manner. You have a nod of your head and a quick bow to the elder before you, but you couldn’t help but give him a quick squeeze and a kiss upon the old man’s cheek, just as you would always do as a child whenever you and his grandson would take the walk over to visit him. “Oh now get out of here before I make you do more work.” He huffed out after the platonic display of affection, trying to keep his rough exterior as you gave a quick wave, the front gate now slamming shut behind you and the kids already pestering the old volleyball coach with questions.

The grounds of Karasuno always gave you a deep sense of nostalgia just by looking at it, but walking upon those very courtyards and sidewalks just made the feeling even deeper within your heart as you took your time walking along the sidewalks that meandered through the school’s ordinary campus. The hazy memories of your years there seemed to slowly float arround you, the images of blurry faces people walking by or the lines of memorable conversations seemed to float through the air. The friends you made and kept after those days appeared within your head, the proudest works of art you accomplished in your club, and the pride your parents felt with your accomplishments and grades. Keishin’s face would try to slip by....but really no memories could come with it. There were no memories of Keishin to float by of his buzzed, high school self, only the ones of him and you as a child.

As you grew closer to the gym in question, you could hear the banging and slamming of balls, the bickering and booming voices of the teenage boys within, and the screeches and squeaks of their sneakers upon the polished hardwood floor. With those noises came the face of Keishin, but you only side as you pushed away, hand now sliding the door open, the team within stopping their practice to look over.

“I...Grandpa....I mean former Coach Ukai told me to bring these over.” You spoke out, a little embarrassed at the burning gaze of the young students before you, though a man was already stumbling forward, his blonde hair texture by the bleach and dye upon the strands pushed back with a head band as he bowed before you, now motioning for one of the young men to come forward.

“Thank you ma’am.” Spoke out what you assumed to be the captain, the other boys now excitedly speaking out their thank you’s as well when you assumed the club sponsor gave the ok for them to dig into their little treat. Though you looked back up to the man before you. Those eyes seemed to bore into you, almost a hopeful look melded within his pupils. Though you couldn’t quite place your that face...though it seemed so familiar.

“That old man needs to take it easy.....” finally muttered out the man before you, which nodded your head as you looked to the team now eating their bananas, listening to the ambiance of their teases, arguing, and plain conversations, though once you finally looked back to the other, it seemed to click. It might have been how the lights hit his face, because the name Keishin finally popped within your brain like an exploding balloon, those childhood memories playing like a film within your head.

“Keishin? I barely recognized you...” you finally managed out, a soft blush of embarrassment as you looked to him with eyes wide with shock, he only sheepishly scratched the back of his neck as he looked down to you.

“Yeah....it’s been awhile....why don’t we step outside? Boys! Continue your drills once your done eating, but take it easy so you don’t throw it up!” He yelled to the team who shouted their acknowledgment to his words.

The two of you now stood within the summer sun that was beginning to make its route that led it closer and closer to the horizon. A cigarette was now tugged out from it’s carton and hanging from his lips, the red embers glowing it’s soft orange as he would inhale.

“It’s been awhile....” he finally spoke out as he flicked the ashes to the cement below, you now sat upon the steps to the gym, basket beside you. “Grandpa always mentioned what you were doing and that you still went to visit, but I would always miss you.....bad luck I guess.” He muttered out, smoke snaking out from his nose and mouth as he spoke out after a drag from his cigarette.

“Grandpa Ukai mentions you too....he didn’t mention that you were the volleyball coach however...I wish he would have prepared me a little.” You joked as you rested your elbows upon your knows, chin rested upon your hands as you looked out to the horizon where the other buildings or the school stood against along with a tree hear and there, the far off buildings of the town and the power lines that stretched forever and ever. “I didn’t recognize you with that hair.....last I saw you-“

“I had a buzz....yeah....grandma and that old man weren’t too happy in the beginning, but I think they have gotten use to it.” He said with a little laugh as he finally let himself rest beside you, the basket now cozily tucked between the two of you.

“So....what are you doing now? Anything else other than coaching?” You soon asked through the silence that fell between you, now looking over to him, the smell of his smoke now wafting into your nose, the smell Alamo slightly comforting. Maybe it was only comforting because now you knew it was him who smelt like that.

“I took over the convenience store from mom, so I’m running that now.” He said with a little smile. “It’s not so bad, it was one of the places we would frequent the most.” He said with a little snort at the memories of you and him bursting through the front door with such pride and excitement as the two of you would beg for a meat bun and a cool drink to go along with it.

“Your mother would end up threatening us with the broom if we wouldn’t get out of we planned on just playing around and not helping.” You continued on with a soft smile, waiting for him to continue you.

“And then the farm, I help with the farm now, well I mostly do everything, I don’t want to rely on my parents to help me with everything you know...” he said as he flicked the cigarette again, now rolling it within his veined hands, you nodding your head.

“Good, I would have been disappointed if they would have gotten rid of it, I have too many fond memories of that place...” you commented as you as watched the ashes from his cigarette float down to sputtered out onto the cement below.

“All those nights......” he softly spoke out

“Yeah...” you said with a smile of fond remembrance as it seemed the two of you sat in a silence to let those memories play within your head, but it was soon interrupted by Keishin clearing his throat, his gruff voice now following after.

“And you? That old man tells me things, but who knows if that ancient brain of his got it all right.” He joked as he snuffed out the butt of the cigarette on the ground, tossing it into the trash to only light another one, you humming as you thought out your response.

“I help with mom and dad’s restaurant, mostly serving on my free time and helping with the book keeping and cleaning and whatnot, the things that they are just too tired to do anymore, but I have a feeling I’m going to take over it soon.” You spoke with a smile as your hand reached down to roll the aglet of your shoe lace within your fingertips. “And then I paint by commission, Grandpa Ukai is my most prized client at this point and then cartons for the paper, but they are usually just political and whatnot, stuff the old timers enjoy.” You said with a giggle as you looked up, your gaze meeting Keishin’s but a jolt of your heart quickly brought your gaze away and back to the cracked, cement side walk ahead of you. “I Uh....don’t make him pay though most of the time, instead I trade.” You explained quickly, motioning to th basket beside you. “That man is insufferable though, he needs to take it easy, but he was scurrying all over the place with the neighborhood volleyball crazed kids and he lectured me on not being married.” You said with a little laugh to try and push aside that racing heart within your chest.

“You aren’t?” Keishin asked quickly after you spoke, smoke now racing through his nostril with his exhale as you looked to him.

“And you aren’t?” You almost spat back defensively, a blush crawling upon your cheeks as you stared at him, he now taken aback, a blush upon his own cheeks as he puffed from his cigarette.

“I asked first!” He quipped back, you only giving a small frown.

“A date here and there, but they don’t work out.” You finally answered him with your arms crossed and rested upon your knees, now you looking to him, eyebrows raised in anticipation for his answer.

“Dry...” was all he said with a huff, you humming a bit, letting out a little ‘huh’ of surprise. “What...what is that suppose to mean?” He quickly asked you which you only gave a little laugh.

“Nothing, just expected you to have a girl or something, even if your parents and grandparents think you look wild there must be plenty of girls in this prefecture that you could woo.” You spoke teasingly, a grouchy scrunch of his face taking over his features as he gave a huff.

“The same could go far you, couldn’t it? A beautiful girl like you should have a boyfriend or something.” He grumbled out, a soft blush now back upon your cheeks as you gave him a glance, your lips almost seeming to be sealed shut by his compliment to you.

“Touché...” was all you could manage out as you fiddled with your hands, the silence now engulfing the two of you once more, a childhood memory being remember and spoken about that would leave the two of you in wistful sighs of the old days or in tears of laughter at the childhood stupidity displayed and executed by the two of you. Though finally that second cigarette was tossed and the two of you were now up, bottoms cold and stuff from sitting so long on those cement steps.

“It was nice seeing you again..” he spoke out, hands shoved in the pockets of his track pants, you now balancing the basket upon your hip, head giving a soft sigh. You didn’t quite want to leave. It had felt like your friend was finally grasping onto your finger tips again across that ocean between the two of you and you feared that leaving would break that little grasp once more. He surely felt the same as well as he didn’t make an effort to move to the open gym door. Though almost silently and knowingly, a slightly older man was handing him off a notepad and a pen before walking off to talk tot he team members and also to the two managers, Keishin now staring to the notepad and pen, mind seemingly blanket before he was already scribbling down something and snapping the paper off the pad before handing it to you. “My number....” he seemed to almost nervously say, you taking it gently before grabbing the pad and pen from him to scribble something down as well before handing it back.

“And there’s mine....though you probably could have gotten it from either your grandma or grandpa, they tend to call me regularly too.” You spoke out, the two of you letting out your nervous laughs, but even then with that grip retightening and becoming stronger between you and him across that ocean filled with dangerous tides and waves, you still were hesitant to begin your steps away, gazes still locked onto each other. Finally though you turned your back to him, a blush upon your cheeks as you seemed to hurry away, Keishin still seemingly star stuck at those cement steps until an argument caught his attention and he was soon yelling and scolding his team.

Now it was as if your hands were now held together before you and him, almost in a soft and gentle handshake, maybe even sharing a loving squeeze. The two of you now standing upon the calm waves and waters of that ocean, met with the silence with now the both of you left to stare at each other. There was no need to now grip onto the very tips of each other’s fingers in the ocean of life that seemed to only moments ago rip between the two of you. The visualization was strange within your mind, but it brought your heart thumping within your chest at what this new stance within you and Keishin’s life, your childhood friend, the friend lost to the world by now found once more.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #ukai x reader #haikyu!! #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x oc #haikyuu x me #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x self insert #keishin ukai x reader #keishin x reader #keishin ukai #ukai keishin #coach ukai x reader #coach ukai headcanons #ukai headcanons #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu fanfiction

[lesbian-fabray]

lit through the darkness at 1:58 (you told me you loved me) - part 6

Playlist Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

Hey! This is the last part of the story! It’s a little on the longer side, but there wasn’t really a good time for a chapter break. I’m really proud of this story, and I’ll be making a post that just has all the parts in one place that’s easy to navigate.

Summary: Toni and Shelby were best friends in high school, and the relationship turned romantic, but it ended poorly. Now, after years of feeling like the Shelby she sees now is not the Shelby she knows, Toni goes to talk to her.

The title comes from “Last Kiss” by Taylor Swift.

Anything italicized takes place in the past. :)

It’s around 4:30 when Toni reaches Shelby’s house for the second time that day. This time, instead of staring at the door like it will come alive and swallow her whole, like she thought it might the first time she was here, she quickly rapped her knuckles on the door. She was full of so much hope that, if she were a spectator of some sort, she may call herself foolish and naïve. But she was no spectator.

She felt like she was seventeen again and being kissed by Shelby for that first time, all full of hope for what may be and worry that it might fall apart.

On top of all of that, however, there was concern for Shelby. The girl potentially just lost everything by telling that truth.

That combination of hope and concern was quickly twisting into guilt and eating at Toni’s insides. She felt selfish and wrong for being so hopeful and for thinking about herself when Shelby was, without a doubt, hurting.

When Shelby opened the door, her eyes were red and her cheeks were wet, She looked small and broken in the dim light of the early morning.

Without thinking, Toni wrapped her arms around her, feeling the blonde shake and sob in her arms. Part of her wanted to tell her it would be okay, but she didn’t even really know what happened, so that could end up being an outright lie. Instead, she just held her and stroked her hair.

When Shelby pulls out of the hug, she just stares at Toni for a while, like she’s frozen in place.

“How about we go inside and talk? Okay, Shelby?”

- - - - - - - - -

Nothing changes.

Shelby continues to keep her distance from Toni and it doesn’t matter if it’s intentional or not anymore. Toni is constantly just filled with rage, ready to be ignited the moment someone mentions her blonde best friend. 

But she keeps pretending to Shelby’s face and hopes it will make her come back.

As time goes on, it only gets worse. Toni spends the entirety of her lunch on Valentine’s Day sobbing into Martha’s shoulder because, as much as she hates the holiday, Shelby loves it.

Even more embarrassing than that is when the school does a production of Legally Blonde, in which Shelby plays Elle, and Toni spends the whole time silently crying next to Martha and Rachel because Shelby looks so happy to be performing.

Then, Andrew moves back to town after being gone less that a year, and him and Shelby pick up where they left off. Everyone just kind of watches in bewilderment as they walk the halls like nothing happened in the time they were broken up.

It gets harder for Toni to keep up the appearance of being even remotely okay. She starts lashing out at people and getting panicky when she sees blonde hair, because there’s no way she could handle a spontaneous encounter at this point.

One day, on her way to class, she sees Andrew kiss Shelby and she feels like she can’t breathe. When she finally sits at her desk, she’s shaking and hyperventilating slightly. She’s angry to the point of feeling guilty. She knows she should be happy for her friend, but she can’t be, no matter how hard she tries.

Shelby catches her crying a few times, but doesn’t say anything about it. She just watches with a look of concern in her eyes. That’s what hurts Toni the most, if she’s honest. The fact that Shelby can’t ever bring herself to say something.

She’s spiraling, and she knows that Shelby knows.

- - - - - - - - - 

“Did you want to talk about it, or did you just want comfort?” Toni sets a mug of hot chocolate down in front of Shelby and gently sits down next to her.

Shelby exhales shakily. “I’m... I’m okay with talking about it.”

Toni nods and a brief silence falls between them. “What even happened, Shelby?”

The blonde sniffles and runs a hand through her hair. 

“After you left, I was kind of panicking. I was thinking about everything you said and about my whole life. Like, how everything is empty and conditional and meaningless. So, I just kinda paced and panicked until Andrew got homes, and, uh... when he got home... I broke up with him. I told him the truth, because, even though he was never honest about all those girls he was with,” Toni mutters something about him being a motherfucker and how she never liked him, “he deserved the truth from me, considering we were engaged and all. I told him a l- that I’m gay and he gathered some of his things and left.” She laughs bitterly before continuing. “And I guess he called my parents, because they, uh, showed up, and that went basically exactly how I expected.”

Toni wraps her arms around the now crying girl and, once again, just holds her. “I’m so sorry. Shelby.” Shelby sniffles and pulls her head up from Toni’s chest. “It’s okay. I mean, it isn’t right now, and it probably won’t be for a while, but it will be eventually. And I’m going to get to start actually being me, and I figure that what really matters, y’know?”

Toni just gives her a small smile and a kiss on the forehead.

“I’m so proud of you, Shelbs. You should probably head to bed. You’ve had a long night. I’m going to stay down here on the couch. We can talk more when you wake up.”

- - - - - - - - -

It’s late on a Saturday night when Nora mentions that Shelby is moving away for college.

She drops the information casually while her and Toni are in Fatin’s backyard, at a party neither of them really wanted to attend.

“So what are you going to do when Shelby’s gone next year?”

Toni furrows her eyebrows. She has no clue what Nora’s talking about. And Shelby’s basically gone anyway.

“What?”

Nora tilts her head to the side and looks at Toni curiously. “Next year, when Shelby goes back to Texas for school? What are you going to do?”

Toni feels her heart drop to her stomach. Yeah, it already feels like Shelby’s gone, but she’s physically here, and if she’s physically here, Toni can see her. Even though it makes her feel like she’s being torn into pieces, seeing the blonde is the thing that makes her get out of bed most days. It’s becoming borderline obsessive on Toni’s part, if she’s being honest. She knows it’s not healthy, but she can’t ever think of anything else. It’s like her brain had been submerged in Shelby. Like the blonde had covered every surface and filled every hole and seeped into the very tissue her brain’s made of.

“Shelby’s moving?”

Nora’s eyes go wide. “Yeah. I thought you knew. I figured she would have told you.”

She can feel herself beginning to panic.

“Yeah, you’d think. I have to go, Nora.”

As she gets up and begins frantically making her way through Fatin’s packed house, in search of Shelby, she feels like she’s locked in a tiny room that’s slowly closing in on her.

No matter where she looks, there’s no sign of the blonde. She stumbles into Fatin and quickly stops the taller girl.

“Fatin, where’s Shelby? I need tp talk to her.” Fatin looks at her quizzically. “Dude, she left like twenty minutes ago.” Toni just nods and heads for the door.

It’s about half an hour later when she finds herself in the Goodkind backyard, throwing rocks at Shelby’s window like some jackass in a romcom.

The window opens and the blonde pops her head out. “Toni? What in the world are you doing? It’s two in the morning!”

Toni’s hands are shaking and her eyes are frantic. “Please let me in, I need to talk to you right now.”

Shelby sighs and closes her window, coming downstairs to let Toni in. 

When they get into Shelby’s room and close the door, Toni cuts to the chase. “You’re moving?” Shelby sighs and fixes her eyes to the ground. “Yes.”

Toni grabs her hands. “Why didn’t you tell me? I had to find out through Nora.” She’s trying to keep her voice calm, but she’s worried it isn’t going to plan. Shelby finally looks into her eyes. “I knew it was going to upset you, so I wanted to leave it for as long as possible. I didn’t want to upset you.” Toni balls her hands up into fists. “So you were just going to wait until you were about to leave to tell me.” Shelby’s eyes return to the ground. “I guess, yeah.”

Toni moves away from Shelby, feeling tears in her eyes. “Jesus Christ, Shelbs.”

“Look, I’m sorry Toni. I was trying not to hurt you again, but that clearly didn’t work.”

Toni sighs. “I get it, it’s just... I’m not ready to fully lose you. I’m not ready to lose you more than I already have. I don’t think I could handle it, Shelb-”

She’s cut off by Shelby crashing her lips into hers. When the blonde pulls away, she makes direct eye contact with Toni. “You will never lose me. I promise.”

It’s the night before Shelby leaves that they see each other in person for the last time for years.

After weeks of Toni crying quietly anytime she thought of her, Shelby comes over to say goodbye.

She hugs Toni tight against her chest. “I will never not love you. I can promise you that. I know I haven’t always kept my promises, but this one? I absolutely will.”

When she pulls out of the hug, Toni just stares at her with wide eyes, asking a silent question. Asking if Shelby means it like Toni hopes she does.

Shelby understands and just gives her a nod. Toni stares back at her, frozen.

The blonde steps back. “Well, this is ‘see you later,’ I suppose.” She turns to walk away and Toni grabs her arm.

“I love you too.”

Shelby smiles fondly and genuinely. “I know.”

She walks back to her car and drives away.

- - - - - - - - -

When Toni wakes up, Shelby is cooking in the kitchen. The blonde turns around and smiles. “Hey, sleepyhead.”

Toni smiles back just as big.

They eat breakfast, just making small talk, but it’s not forced like it was the day before.

Shelby sets down her fork. “We should probably talk about yesterday.” Toni nods. “Yeah, we probably should. How are you feeling about everything?”

The Texan sighs. “Not great. I feel... alone, if I’m honest. I kinda am alone now, I guess. But the fact that I don’t have tp keep pretending and lying and working so damn hard is freeing in a way.”

Toni nods. “I can understand that. I’ve never been through it personally, but, like, that makes sense to me.” 

It feels like it’s not enough, but it seems to put Shelby at ease a little.

She grabs the brunette’s hand. “Thank you for being here, Toni. I know it can’t be easy, considering, y’know, everything.”

“We’ve had our ups and downs for sure. And it’s kinda been years of downs. But there’s no world where I wouldn’t be here for you, Shelbs.”

Shelby smiles a big genuine smile. “I don’t know that I’m ready to jump into anything right now, because everything’s new to me, but I need you to know that I love you, and that, as soon as I’m ready, I’m yours. If you want me.”

Toni smiles back even bigger. “I will always want you, Shelby. I always have.”

#it's finished!!! #shoni #goodfoe #the wilds #shelby goodkind #toni shalifoe

[babyjeep]

Part 1 of my Teen Wolf Hogwarts AU that was inspired by the lovely moodboards from scilessweetheart. Those are links! Click them to find out the main cast’s house and see other moodboards because oh my god they are all so good.

Read the intro first here!

This part is called Hufflepuff Common Room and it’s 1.1k! a baby!

Lydia was proud to say that in all her six years at Hogwarts, she had never before snuck around in the kitchen corridor. Sneaking into the kitchens didn’t ever seem necessary, and the only other thing in the basement of the castle was the Hufflepuff common room: also a place that never sounded appealing to her. It seemed as though she was the only one of the four who didn’t know her way around this corridor which didn’t surprise her. Scott and Stiles were constantly down here for treats after hours or to get supplies for parties. Allison seemed to know every inch of this castle as if she was given some sort of map her first year and memorized it. Lydia wished they actually handed out maps to first years, but even then she probably still would have gotten lost with all those damn moving staircases.

But then, her three friends who were leading the way stopped in front of a wall of barrels. Lydia huffed and rolled her eyes, “Are we lost or what?”

“No, this is the place,” Scott told her.

“We just don’t know how to get in,” Allison said. “Have either of you two been in there before?”

“I have, but I don’t remember what Isaac did to open it,” Scott admitted sheepishly. He, Allison, and Lydia looked to Stiles.

The Ravenclaw boy scoffed as if he was offended. “What makes you think I know how to get in?”

“Do you?” Scott asked him.

“Okay, okay,” Stiles grumbled. “I may or may not have overheard Boyd explaining it to the first years last year.” As he got out his wand, his three friends took a step back, wary of his actions. Stiles was known for getting emotional and throwing hexes, and his aim wasn’t the best. He rolled his eyes at his friends. “I’m not going to blow anything up. ., but actually, we might get doused in vinegar.”

This time he tried not to take offense when his friends took another two steps back. Stiles scratched behind his head with the hand he was using to hold his wand. Lydia gasped and jumped out of the way when the end of it was briefly pointed at her. One of the first things they learned about at the ripe age of eleven was wand etiquette and not to point your wand at people unless you meant it. Stiles had a habit of carrying his wand around in his hand recklessly as if he just forgotten he was holding it. Sometimes in class or during their study time, he would twirl it around in his fingertips, making his friends nervous to sit next to him.

“Do you know how to get in or not?” Lydia asked, wanting to get this all over with.

“Well, first of all, we don’t even have a plan. What are we gonna do? Barge into the Hufflepuff common room unannounced?” Stiles looked to Scott for an answer.

“If we get stopped, we just explain that we are looking for Isaac. He’ll cover for us,” Scott said confidently.

Allison shrugged. “It’s not like Hufflepuffs are unwelcoming.”

“So the plan is to actually barge into the Hufflepuff common room unannounced. Great,” Stiles deadpanned. He took a deep breath then faced the barrels and counted out the right one to tap. Well, hopefully it was the right one. . He really didn’t want to smell like vinegar for the rest of the week. Scott didn’t let him use the Prefect’s bathroom anymore after the bubbles incident.

After Stiles tapped the sequence into the barrel, the wall broke apart and moved to reveal a circular door. A small exhale of relief and awe escaped the boy’s lips. Six years at this school, and magic still amazed him.

“Whoa,” Lydia mumbled.

“Nice one, dude,” Scott offered, patting Stiles on the back as he walked by to push the door open.

Stiles let his three friends go through first so they didn’t see him throw a celebratory punch in the air. No week long vinegar stench for Stiles.

The Hufflepuff’s entryway was arguably the most intricate of the castle since they had to crawl through an earthy tunnel after avoiding the vinegar trap set up for intruders. But once inside, the crawl was well worth in. The circular room was well lit with golden lighting from from the high windows. Since it was a basement, the windows lead directly to a field of bright green grass that was shining from the morning sun. Plants and vines were hung from the ceiling and placed on nearly every surface. The mantle of the fireplace was decorated with hand carvings of badgers that were jinxed to run back and forth along the wood, chasing each other playfully.

“Whoa,” Lydia mumbled out again. She was regretting not visiting this place sooner. It was ethereal.

But the four intruders soon realized that the warm, inviting glow of the room did not match the tone of its occupants. Small groups of students were huddled together and sniffling. The sixth year Prefect and Quidditch captain, Vernon Boyd, recognized the familiar faces of the four outsiders and excused himself from a group of fifth year girls to speak with his fellow sixth year Prefect, Scott McCall.

“What are you all doing here?”

Stiles cringed, realizing they must have been invading during an intimate moment. He was thankful Scott was the one being asked.

“Looking for you, all of you. There wasn’t a single Hufflepuff at breakfast. We were worried,” Scott said with such an honest, heartbroken look that Boyd couldn’t bare to be angry.

“The professors are trying to keep quiet about things until they know more. We were told not to leave the common room. They might let us go to classes later after a headcount, but I think if they do, classes will be optional,” Boyd informed them.

Just then, Isaac Lahey came over from his spot at the fireplace to tell Scott, “Tracy went missing sometime last night.”

“Who’s Tracy?” Allison asked.

“A fifth year,” Lydia answered. She chewed on her lip and thought about the article they saw that morning.

Isaac nodded. He shyly looked to Scott and asked, “I’m guessing you’ve seen the paper?”

“The teachers think it was them?” Scott said in disbelief.

“They used to go after muggleborns and half-bloods. Nothing is confirmed, but the school is going on lockdown. No one gets in or out,” Boyd said.

“There’s even talk about dementors coming to check the grounds for them,” Isaac whispered, looking paler than usual.

“Oh that’s just great. Sending in the creepy, deadly, prison guard spirits to search for the serial killer werewolf couple they lost,” Stiles grumbled.

Boyd ignored the comment and turned back to Scott. “We have to patrol in pairs from now on. You and Harley meet me and Kira at the Astronomy tower at midnight. I’ll update you then.”

Hey, you! Yeah you! Thanks for reading! Here is part 2!

#teen wolf #my writing #teen wolf Hogwarts AU #I have no idea what to name this series #it’s all for fun!!!! #but I also accidentally came up with a plot #Boyd is a prefect and captain of the Hufflepuff quidditch team which he played beater for #Isaac is a chaser for the Hufflepuff team #Scott is a prefect and captain of the gryffindor team which he is a chaser for #HARLEY IS IN THIS #Harley is a chaser for Gryffindor and a prefect #Lydia is a prefect for Ravenclaw #Stiles is not. I’m sorry he is a troublemaker who pulls way too many pranks to be a prefect #super smart but doesn’t apply himself #I have a character list with EVERYONES house if you are interested #one Anon and I will post lol #and lastly my baby Allison #Allison is not a prefect because she rebels against authority #similar to stiles but less stink bombs and more focus on sleuthing #StilesxAllison sleuthing duo #they know every inch of the castle

[kaffeinic]

Familiar | Bang Chan

Hey dear, I have this one shot/fanfiction idea but since I can't write I thought I'd request it from you x3 I can't stop thinking about a school AU in which Chan is a basketball player/captain and falls for the new girl in his class 🥺so if requests are open and if you have time, it would be nice if you could write that or something similar, thank you 💖

- @chansdimple

~

1

Pairing: High Schooler!Reader x Basketball Player!Bang Chan

Genre: Neutral // Romance

Warnings: Fem!Reader

Preamble: Change is extremely difficult, and moving to a new city with a new school was no exception. The classes are difficult, the people are loud, and the melodramatic behaviour seemed to constantly be at a ten. You felt suffocated - until you take a chance on a night out with a new friend.

You were conflicted, to say the least.

The idea of starting anew, in a strange place, with strange people you didn’t know, was, well, strange. Your hands were clasping the hem of your shirt, fiddling with the fabric in an attempt to calm your mind. You hated this feeling. It wasn’t something you generally chased after.

On the other hand, knowing that you were about to walk into a building in which no one knew you was almost relieving, in its own way. All of your awkward moments and incredible public mishaps were now ancient history. No one here could possibly know about that time in the second grade when you tried to pet the class turtle and somehow, someway was outpaced by it. No one would know about those times when you were so exhausted from the night before that you actually walked directly into a door.

Feeling a mix of glee and terror, you adjusted your grip on your bag’s handle and pulled open the front door. You were immediately greeted by a swarm of students, all moving simultaneously to their desired classrooms. You glanced around the foyer until you spotted the main office, briskly walking inside.

There were stark white walls on all four sides of the room, most of which were decorated with various trophies, class photos, and calendars. Six chairs were lined against two of the walls, providing seating for two rather angry students.

“Are you aware of how many times you’ve both been sent into my office this month? Nine. Nine times. I didn’t even think it was possible to piss off your teachers that much! Now, you’re both getting into fistfights before classes even start!” A middle aged man in an unbutton grey work suit fixed his tie with a huff. “If this happens one more time, you’re both getting suspended. Do I make myself clear?” He asked. The two boys sitting on the chairs adjacent to the man nodded their heads. “Get out of here.”

You cleared your throat after watching as the two boys sulked out of the office. The man’s face suddenly lit up.

“Hello, there! You must be Y/n. I’m Mr. Hanson. I trust you had a warm welcome?” He asked. You cocked your head in curiosity.

“What welcome?” You asked. “Did I miss someone?” The man peered past your shoulder through the window of the office door.

“Ah, your welcome committee is a little preoccupied.” He said. He found his way past you to open the door, waving a group of students over. “She’s over here, guys.”

You watched as four students strolled into the room, each with a very distinct aura about them. The first was a boy with red hair and serious features. He wore a pair of red jeans and a white tee, tucked in towards the front. He held out his hand to you, suddenly smiling, which changed everything about the way you had perceived him.

“I’m Felix. It’s nice to meet you.” He said. You returned the smile and shook his hand.

“Y/n.”

The second person to greet you was a girl with straight black hair, and equally dark eyes. Her clothes were viciously pink, and she sported a pair of heels with a myriad of jewelry. She immediately slapped a seemingly fake smile onto her face and waved.

“I’m Stacey.” She said, adjusting the way her bag rested against her hip.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You said. She exposed teeth, then turned to Felix, grabbing hold of his arm. First impressions said that they were dating.

The third person in line was a blond haired boy with a smile that screamed cheer. His yellow tee and blue jeans seemed to convert the same message.

“Hey! I’m Jisung. It’s very nice to meet you, Y/n.” He said, shaking your hand. You smiled at his enthusiasm. “This is Chan.” Jisung said, gesturing towards the fourth and final student.

Chan donned a pair of ripped blue jeans, a black hoodie, and a jean jacket to top it all off. His hair was dyed an almost silvery colour, and his curly bangs laid across his forehead in a stylish way. He gave you a polite smile, waving at you. You waved back, trying to avoid breaching the personal space of the five people around you. Suddenly the bell rang, signaling the last of the wandering students to hustle their way to class.

“Alright. Y/n, I’ve chosen these particular students in part because of your shared class schedules. If you stick to them, you shouldn’t get lost. I wish you luck!” Mr. Hanson said. You smiled and nodded.

“Yes, thank you.”

The five of you made your way to what seemed to be the math classroom. In every classroom you entered, the sea of students would follow you with their gaze until you sat, and even then, some curious eyes would remain glued to your figure. Jisung and Stacey seemed to always be on either side of you, with Felix on the other side of Stacey, and Chan on the other side of Jisung. The day was mostly uneventful until your last class.

You had carefully selected your elective - photography. It was simple enough - or at least that’s what you thought - but held your interest as well.

The photography class was rather small, and the only people shared the class with were Stacey and Felix. Throughout the day, she seemed to grow ever-annoyed at your mere presence. Felix waved you over to where they both sat, smiling.

“C’mon, Y/n!” He exclaimed. You smiled warmly at his invitation and obliged, sliding on his opposite side. Stacey let out a huff, rapping her fingers on her desk.

“Where are Chan and Jisung?” You asked, placing your bag on the desk in front of you. Felix began to take his camera out of the case, setting it up for whatever it was that they were about to do.

“They have basketball practice during the elective periods. Chan is the captain, and Jisung is his right hand, in a sense. They both work out plays and stuff together.” Felix paused and looked at you. “I honestly don’t know anything about basketball. I hope that made sense.” He began laughing bashfully. You laughed along with him, your eyes pinching with glee.

“Alright. I got it.” You said, glancing at Stacey. She seemed to be in a progressively worse mood as you and Felix spoke. It took you all day, but you thought you might have finally figured her out. She was jealous, which you thought was absolutely ridiculous.

A moment later, the photography teacher - who also happened to be your history teacher - walked to the front of the class.

“Alright, guys. I know I told you all about what’s going on this week, but Y/n wasn’t here, so I’ll recap.” Mr. Hanson said. “You all have one week to create a fifteen photo portfolio of the nature near and on our school premises. Each of you can have one partner.” He said. “You’ll be graded individually, not as a pair, so I suggest you both work on it.”

You peered around the classroom. It seemed as if everyone already had a partner. You stood to delve further into the lump of students, but heard your name.

“Y/n, I could partner with you.” Felix said from his seat. “It’s your first time, and I know it’s hard to work with someone you haven’t met yet.” You smiled at him thankfully.

“Uh-” Stacey immediately chimed in. “Felix, honey, we’re partners.” She said. “Plus, I have the good camera.” She grinned and pointed at the camera case that sat neatly on her desk.

“Yeah, but I think it would be nice if I helped Y/n out.” He explained. “She’s still new.” Stacey deadpanned before shaking her head.

“Yeah, but I doubt she knows anything about photography, and this is too important of a portfolio to mess up.” She explained. You looked to the ground.

“It’s alright, Felix. Thanks, but I can find someone else.” You said. Felix frowned, but nodded.

“Alright, but let me know if you need any help.” He added. You smiled and made your way over to the other students. Most of them had been given enough time to already have their partners, and were already discussing how they’d go about the project. After a few more moments of searching, you came back with no results. You let out a sigh, making your way to Mr. Hanson.

“Hey, Mr. Hanson?” You said. He turned and smiled at you.

“Hey, How’s it going? Did you get a partner yet?” He asked. You shook your head.

“No, but I think I’ll be alright working alone. I think I work best that way.” You explained. He contemplated the idea, and hummed in agreement.

“Alright, but I’ll be keeping an eye out to see if you’re struggling. Do your best.” He said.

The rest of the period was grueling as you relied solely on the paper instructions for the school’s camera. It wa nothing like you had used before. By the end of the hour, you were just about ready to throw the technology at a wall.

You shoved the last of your belongings into your bag as the final bell rang, letting out an exasperated sigh. Your body felt a little heavier than usual from such a stressful day.

As your hands flattened out on the front set of double doors, you heard footsteps coming from behind you.

“Y/n?” Chan said. You feigned happiness, not yet ready to deal with another awkward conversation.

“Hey...” You said. He cocked his head to the side as the corners of his lips tugged downward.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, jogging over. “Rough first day?” You let out a chuckle.

“Yeah, but it could’ve been worse.” You said. He grinned, looking down.

“What an optimist.” He teased. You giggled, pushing the door open. He raised his arm out to hold it for you, waiting as you slipped past the frame. He followed suit, then shoved a hand in one of his jacket pockets.

“How was your day?” You asked. He seemed to contemplate, then bobbed his head left and right.

“Not too bad. Practice was tough, but the day was otherwise good.” He said. You smiled.

“Good, good.” You said. He hopped forward.

“Do you have to be home?” He asked. You raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“Not particularly. Why?”

“I know what’ll cheer you up.” He waved his arm to get you to follow him as he approached a black car. You made your way over to him, hesitant.

“Where are we going?”

“The joy is in the surprise, milady.” He made a grand gesture with his arm as he said the name, which earned a chuckle from you.

“Alright, alright. Just not too far.” You said. “I need to be home by sundown.”

“That’s as long as I need.” He grinned. “Let’s go!”

You laid your bag on the floor of the passenger seat.

“Let’s go!”

~

Alrighty! It’s been a while since I’ve made anything new. I really hope that you all enjoy this first chapter. Any guesses on where he’s taking her? If anyone can get it, I’ll give them a shoutout. 💞 Best of luck!

As always, I appreciate your feedback! I hope you are happy and healthy. 😊

~

* DISCLAIMER: I do not own any gifs/photos used in this post. I do own the written content. Do NOT repost/edit. *

~

🏷 @ace-marvel-chick • @hoshithehamster • @woo-for-woojin • @sparkling-studio-ghibli-water • @sshiromon • @midnatwlp • @royalhvangs • @yoongi--enthusiast • @woozi-is-164-cm • @wohoney

#kpop #stray kids bang chan #photography #chris bang #bang chan #stray kids #fanfics #fanfictions #ff #basketball #au #christopher bang #channie #chan bang #skz #stray kids fanfics #stray kids chan #skz ff #bang chan fanfic

[zootopiathingz]

Oppression (A Bug’s Life AU)

Description: You know the story. Now get ready to see it again in a whole different light.

On an isolated island lives a kingdom of ant/human people, who struggle to harvest enough food for themselves and their allies, the Grasshoppers. After a young and clumsy inventor causes an incident that puts the kingdom in danger, the Queen's council allow him to search far off the land to make allies with warriors. But after realizing he hired street performers by mistake, he and the newest allies must keep up the act to save the kingdom.

Chapter I: Small Issues

We are not stronger by our number, but rather by our bravery.

Light was only provided by the rising sun on the hot summer morning. Everyone had already begun their daily routines by then, and most of it was cleaning their houses, and of course, gathering food for the offering. Something they dreaded but wouldn't dare express apprehension about. This was something that most had been doing since they were young.

The island wasn't too large, but it was expandable enough to sustain life for the kingdom. Most of it just consisted of the village and the castle. The village was for the harvesters, the teachers, and sadly, the homeless. Most everyone lived in that part, and while doing their best to keep it clean, failed to keep it beautified. It wasn't the worst it could be, though. As without the Grasshoppers' protection, they would be in much worse, more horrid conditions.

The castle was huge, and though very old, was in excellent shape. The marble floors, the golden thrones for the royal family, the large bedrooms, and so on. There was plenty of room for almost everyone in the kingdom, but the only residents were the queen, the two princesses, the council, and servants.

The queen ruler of the island for as long as anyone could remember. She had more power ever since the disappearance of her husband. She was old but very beautiful and surprisingly optimistic and laidback. Despite the conditions her kingdom was in, she didn't focus on the negative aspects of life. She laughed and made jokes, she had a smile that lit up a whole room.

Her daughters were much younger and just as beautiful. Princess Atta was the eldest, soon to be queen herself. She was barely older than a teenager and had the body and the beauty of a goddess. However, she wasn't as positive and calm as her mother. In fact, she was the opposite. She was always worrying about something, never seeing things the way her mother or sister did. Perhaps it was the stress of taking over soon, or the alliance with the clan of grasshopper hybrids. But she was always stressed.

As for the youngest, Princess Dot was not even nine-years-old yet. She was shorter than most kids her age, and despite being royalty, she was always being picked on by classmates. She attended an elementary school in the village, despite her sister's attempts to try to educate her herself. She liked to be positive and carefree like her mother, but it didn't help that everyone was always telling her what she could and could not do.

The offering was a large collection of food, mostly by the harvesters, near the edge of the island. It was piled up and mostly contained fruits and crops, but had some meat and desserts made by the chefs as well. Every year on the summer solstice, the Grasshoppers would arrive at the island to eat the food that had been offered to them, not even interacting with the island's inhabitants, and leave not long after. It was apart of the deal that the clan's leader and the queen made years ago. The ant hybrids offered them food in exchange for protection from outsiders. The history of this exchange was dark, and no one dared to speak of it.

The royal family would often supervise the offering, especially on the day of the Grasshoppers' arrival. They had to make sure it was perfect, or lord only knew what would happen. This was really the only time Princess Atta ever left the castle. Otherwise, she was hidden away in her bedroom or throne room. Her mother and sister would often walk through the village together, and Dot would attend her classes every weekday. But Atta lived a different life, a life she chose to keep to herself.

The sun was rising rapidly it seemed, mainly due to the tension and anxiousness in the air. Everyone felt it, but no one would discuss it. All the harvesters were in line, dropping their food onto the pile before going to collect more in an exhausting cycle. Princess Atta and her mother were standing not too far in front of it, being shaded by their servants while the council was supervising everyone.

Atta watched as the sun was rising higher, getting closer to noon. And she knew exactly what that would mean. She was nervous, despite knowing the process wouldn't involve any interaction with the Grasshoppers at all. She would constantly glance back at the ocean for any signs of boats arriving their way, even though there was already a look-out team at the coast that would blow their horns when signs of the clan were visible.

"Oh dear," She paced back and forth, rubbing her hands, "They'll be here soon.”

"You will be fine, dear." Her mother said calmly, walking over to try to relax her poor daughter. She waved her hand to dismiss the servants from shading them, in which they obeyed immediately. She took Atta's hand and stepped away from the offering, "There is nothing to worry about, honestly. It is the same process year after year. They come, they eat, they leave. We do not even have to greet them. We've been doing this since you were young."

"Yes, I know." The princess sighed, nodding. "I suppose it’s because I will be taking your place soon, and if anything goes awry, it will be all on me. I do not know if I can take such pressure."

The queen sighed, "It's not an easy job, I understand. I was just like you when I was your age. That cautiousness and unwillingness to fail is what makes a good leader. But what also makes a good leader is confidence. You need to trust in yourself that when the time comes, you will know what to do."

Atta nodded again, "I understand, Mother. I shall try." Though, she knew her mother had a point, she knew that self-confidence was something she never had a day in her life. And she wasn't going to obtain it so easily through a pep talk.

The queen smiled as she picked up her beloved dog, Aphie, a chihuahua/aphid hybrid. "If it makes you feel any less worried, my little Aphie here believes you will do a marvelous job. Is that not right, baby?" She asked, holding the dog up with pride. Atta chuckled, knowing her mother had always been fond of Aphie since forever. She wasn't much of a dog person, but whatever made her mom happy made her happy, too.

"Ditch Dot!" A boy yelled to his friend as they sprinted passed the royals, utterly ignoring the workers walking in a line. But surprisingly, they didn't bump into any of them.

"Hey, come back here!" The young princess yelled, quickly trying to chase after them. But she wasn't as fast as they were. She attempted to use her wings to lift her off the ground, but they failed to even raise her for a second, causing her to land on her knees.

"Dot!" The queen exclaimed, somewhat angrily as she and Atta walked over to her.

"Yes, Mother?" Dot asked dreadfully, already knowing she was going to be scolded for her actions.

"What have we said about trying to fly?" The queen asked rhetorically, "You are far too young to even be trying! Your wings have to grow in first."

"But Mother—" She was about to protest as she stood up properly, brushing dirt off of her dress.

Atta sighed, "Dot, you are a young princess and your wings are too little—"

"I was taking to Mother." Dot said to her sister, putting her hands to her hips. "You are not the queen yet, Atta! I do not have to listen to you!"

The queen bent down to pat her youngest's shoulder, "Now, now, Dot, be nice to your sister. She's under a lot of pressure and she does not need that kind of attitude."

"It's not my fault that she's so stressed out!" Dot scoffed, rolling her eyes.

Atta sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Yes, I know, I am not the best at handling pressure. I'm always acting like the sky is falling."

"Uhh..your highness?" Spoke Thorny, a prideful member of the council. He was in charge of counting the food to make sure they had the amount that the Grasshoppers' demanded. "We have a small issue."

"How small?" Atta asked warily.

He pointed over to a certain harvester, who was carrying a large amount of grain and fruits in his arms. And everyone immediately knew exactly who it was, and why this wasn't such a good sign.

Oh god no. Atta thought with dread, deciding to see what was going on. She plastered on a fake smile as she walked over to him, Thorny and another council member, Cornelius, not too far behind her.

Atta approached the harvester she recognized, "Flik, that's quite the amount you have there. How did you manage to collect all of this?"

Flik was someone that everyone knew, but nobody liked. He was always the one to make elaborate plans that never worked and make inventions that backfired horribly. He was clumsy and a little naive, but smart when it came to technological advancements that no one wanted. He was young, about the same age as Atta but slightly taller and not as pale.

He smiled brightly, just as he always did upon seeing her. "Oh, Princess Atta! I collected these by using my new invention for harvesting crops. We almost never have any time to collect food for ourselves, since we spend all season gathering for the offering! But this shall speed up production!"

"Another invention..?" Atta asked, failing to keep her fake smile. She didn't want to be rude to him, but even she knew his inventions never worked and were ultimately useless.

"Yes! Oh, and I made something for you, too!" He said proudly, quickly placing the food down to grab something out of the bag on his back. "Since you are going to be queen soon, you may use this to oversee production!" He explained as he pulled out a moderately sized telescope, with a small carving on the side. "It works fairly well, and I made it green since I know it's your favorite color!"

"Uh..that's very kind of you, Flik," Atta said, unsure on how else to respond. But she really needed him to cooperate and collect food the way everyone else was. He could be goofy and clumsy any other day of the year, just not today.

Flik peered through the telescope as he pointed it at her, seeing close-up to her gorgeous face. "Why hello there, Princess! My, aren't you looking lovely this morning!" He said in a playful tone, then put it down as he blushed, "But of course, one would not need a telescope to see that."

Thorny walked over and snatched the telescope from his hands, tossing it aside. "Alright, that's enough from you! The princess does not have time for this nonsense!" He said angrily, having to look up at the young man since he was taller, "You wish to help us get this done?"

Flik nodded, somewhat nervously from the man's tone.

"Then dispose of whatever you made, get back in line, and collect the crops like everybody else!" Thorny exclaimed sternly.

"Like everybody else!" Cornelius repeated, stomping his cane down.

Flik looked over at Atta, who nodded at him to do as told. "I-I'm sorry. I did not mean—" He said, then sighed as they all pointed for him to leave. "I was just trying to help." He murmured as he walked away.

Dot looked down at the telescope that Thorny tossed, then back up at Flik as he left the council. She frowned and picked up the telescope, managing to sneak away from the council as they walked over to the offering.

"New way to harvest." Cornelius scoffed, "Why, we've been harvesting the same way ever since I was an infant!"

#a bug's life #pixar #pixar fanfic #fanfiction #alternate universe #human au #flik a bug’s life #princess atta #princess dot #medieval fantasy #middle ages

[percabeth4life]

My Mother Teaches Me Bullfighting

First Chapter || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter (Coming soon) || AO3

We tore through the night along dark country roads. Wind buffering the car, rain lashing against the windshield. I have no idea how my mom can see anything, but she never took her foot off the gas.

I itched my arms, trying to lessen the uncomfortable electric feel, the burning of the salt rubbing wounds. Being able to sense magic and curses is nice in theory, but I’m about ready to start clawing at my arms to make the feelings go away.

Lightning flashed constantly, each followed by a loud boom of thunder and the feeling of scorching energy crackling over my skin.

I want answers despite that.

“So, you and my mom know each other?” I questioned mildly.

Grover’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, even though I’m certain there aren’t any cars behind us. “Not exactly,” he said. “I mean, we’ve never met in person. But she knew I was watching you.”

… that sounds stalkerish.

“Watching… me…?”

“Keeping tabs on you. Making sure you were okay. But I wasn’t faking being your friend,” he added hastily. “I am your friend.”

I couldn’t help but doubt it, but I kept my feelings to myself right then. They had no bearing on the current situation.

If he was my friend, then why… why was he basically spying on me? And feeding the information to Mr. Brunner? Who is Mr. Brunner? Why is mom okay with this!?

“Right. So, you’re… a satyr?”

He let out a sharp, throaty, “Blaa-ha-ha! Yes, I’m a satyr.”

I nodded, “Right…”

The weird bellowing noise rose up again from somewhere behind us, closer than before. Whatever was chasing us was still on our trail.

“Percy,” my mom said. “There’s too much to explain and not enough time. We have to get you to safety.”

I could scream.

“Safety from what? Who’s after me?”

You know, beyond the normal monsters that target Half-Bloods.

“Oh, nobody much,” Grover said, sounding miffed. “Just the Lord of the Dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions.”

Right the fury attacked me, Ms. Dodds…

A theft, was something of Hades stolen?

…

Uh oh.

“Grover!”

“Sorry, Mrs. Jackson. Could you drive faster, please?”

I tried to wrap my head around everything new happening, I wish Triton was here. He’d say everything in a way that makes more sense. Like why I’m apparently being blamed for the theft of something I don’t know about probably from Hades.

My mom made a hard left, swerving us onto a narrower road. We raced past darkened farmhouses and wooded hills and a PICK YOUR OWN STRAWBERRIES sign on white picket fences.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“The summer camp I told you about.” My mom’s voice was tight; she was trying for my sake not to be scared. “The place your father wanted to send you.”

… the place Triton said not to go unless there was no other choice.

“The place you didn’t want me to go?”

“Please, dear,” my mom begged. “This is hard enough. Try to understand. You’re in danger.”

“Because of Ms. Dodds?”

“Because the Fates cut a string! Those old ladies from the fruit stand! Do you know what it means—the fact that they appeared in front of you? They only do that when you’re about to… when someone’s about to die.”

I froze, oh no. The Fates!? That would explain why my sense burned near them, the feelings I got from their presence, the feeling from that thread…

“You said you…” I whispered.

“No! I said ‘someone.’”

I didn’t fight him on it. My chest was tight, I was scratching my arms as the crackling grew worse.

My mom pulled the wheel hard to the right, and I got a glimpse of a figure she’d swerved to avoid—a dark fluttering shape now lost behind us in the storm.

“What was that?” I asked, I didn’t get a good look.

“We’re almost there,” my mom said, ignoring my question. This seems to be a pattern. “Another mile. Please. Please. Please.”

I leaned forward, if we got there maybe mom would be safe from whatever is following us. It would target me, not her. I’m the Half-Blood.

I swallowed.

I fingered the pen in my pocket, scratching my arm with my other hand.

The pen I wanted to give to Triton to see if he could find the owner. I really need to talk to Triton. Hopefully we get to-

My skin scorched, then the world lit up with a jaw-rattling boom!, and our car exploded.

I remembered feeling weightless, like I was being crushed, fried, and hosed down all at the same time. My skin was crackling from the residue power.

I peeled my forehead off the back of the driver’s seat and said, “Ow.”

It did not encompass the whole feeling.

“Percy!” my mom shouted.

“I’m okay…”

I tried to shake off the daze, grabbing my bag (untouched thanks to the protections on it, thank you Triton) and pulling out my waterskin. I slung my bag on my back, wincing at the way it rubbed against my scorching skin. I glanced out of the car and noting the ditch we’re in. I slid the strap for the water skin over my shoulder.

I’m shaking.

The car had been struck by lightning, that’s not a Hades power. That’s a Zeus power.

Dear Pontus, this is bad.

Next to me in the seat was the slumped form of… “Grover!” I called.

Blood trickled from the side of his mouth, my heart sank. I might not be sure how to feel about him, but I won’t let him be hurt.

He groaned suddenly, “Food,” I felt my chest loosen.

“Percy,” my mom said, “We have too…” her voice faltered.

I twisted, looking back. In a flash of lightning, through the mud-splattered windshield, I saw a figure lumbering toward us on the shoulder of the road. The sight made my skin crawl, itching with the feel of a curse, mixed with the feeling of salt in my wounds. I can’t tell if that’s the storm of not.

The figure was huge, like a football player. He seemed to be holding a blanket over his head? Or that’s part of the creature. It looks like it has horns actually… Whatever it is, it’s bad.

“Who is—"

“Percy,” My mom said, deadly serious. “Get out of the car.”

My mom threw herself against the driver’s-side door. It was jammed shut in the mud. I glanced up to see the hole was sizzling, and my electrified feeling skin let me know that was a bad idea. My door is probably also jammed, same side of the car.

“Climb out the passenger’s side!” My mom told me. “Percy—you have to run. Do you see that big tree?”

“What?”

Another flash of lightning, and through the smoking hole in the roof I saw the tree she meant: a huge, White House Christmas tree-sized pin at the crest of the nearest hill.

My skin was crackling with the power in the storm, it only seemed to get stronger.

“That’s the property line,” my mom said. “Get over that hill and you’ll see a big farmhouse down in the valley. Run and don’t look back. Yell for help. Don’t stop until you reach the door.”

“Mom, you’re coming too.”

I was not leaving her to die, and this thing would probably go after her. I’m trying to think of what it can be, and the Minotaur is the only bull creature I can think of right now. Any kind would be dangerous, and I certainly don’t know all the creatures.

Mom looked sad, her face pale.

“No!”  I shouted, they at least need to be away from the car! “You are coming with me. Help me carry Grover!”

“Food!” Grover moaned helpfully.

The being out there kept coming towards us, making his grunting, snorting noises.

“He doesn’t want us,” Mom told me. “He wants you. Besides, I can’t cross the property line.”

“But...”

“We don’t have time, Percy. Go. Please.”

I couldn’t help the anger filling me. I’ve been lost since the solstice, alone and confused. No one is telling me anything, Triton can’t risk contacting me, and my mom was asking me to leave her in a burning car with so much left-over power sizzling through it that I want to tear off my skin to make the scorching stop.

I’m mad at all of them, mad at my mom, mad at Grover for lying all year, mad at the creature lumbering towards us to kill me. I just want to see Triton! I just want to be safe at home with my mom!

I climbed across Grover and pushed the door open into the rain. “We’re going together. Come on, Mom.”

“I told you—”

“Mom! I am not leaving you. Help me with Grover.”

I didn’t wait for her answer. I scrambled outside, waterskin hitting my side, dragging Grover from the car. He was surprisingly light, but I couldn’t have carried him far if my mom hadn’t come to my aid.

Together we draped Grover’s arms over our shoulders and started stumbling uphill through wet waist-high grass.

I reached out with my free hand and willed the rain to arc over us, like I did at the school.

It was harder, rubbing salt and crackling electricity fighting my will. But I pushed, mom didn’t need this too.

Glancing back, I got my first clear look at the being. It’s easily seven feet tall, arms and legs like something from the cover of Muscle Man magazine—bulging muscles and triceps and a bunch of other ‘cepts. It wore no clothes except underwear, bright white Fruit of the Looms—it’s a travesty. Triton would be horrified by its style. It’s top half was covered in course brown hair, starting at about its belly button and getting thicker as it reached its shoulders.

Its head was the worst, its neck a mass of muscle and fur leading to the enormous head. It had a snout as long as my arm, snotty nostrils with a gleaming brass ring, cruel black eyes, and horns—enormous black-and-white horns with points that you just plain can’t get from an electric sharpener.

I know this monster, both from my studies and from Mr. Brunner’s class.

I’m certain now. The minotaur.

“That’s—”

“Pasiphae’s son,” mom said. “I wish I’d known how badly they want to kill you.”

I blinked, which one was Pasiphae again? I guess the Minotaur’s parent, mom? but why call him that?

“That’s the Min—”

“Don’t say his name,” she warned, “Names have power.”

I blinked, I don’t remember learning that. I guess mom would know best though.

I glanced behind me again.

The Minotaur was hunched over Gabe’s car, looking in the windows… or I suppose he was more snuffling, nuzzling. He’s a bull, don’t they have a bad sense of sight? I’m not sure about their hearing.

“Food?” Grover moaned.

“Shh,” I hissed. “Mom, what’s he doing? Why doesn’t he come after us over here?”

“His sight and hearing are terrible,” she said. “He goes by smell. But he’ll figure out where we are soon enough.”

Okay, mom knows a lot about bulls, or Minotaur’s…

As if on cue, the bull-man bellowed in rage. He picked up Gabe’s Camaro by the torn roof, the chassis creaking and groaning. He raised the car over his head and threw it down the road.

I couldn’t help the vindictive feeling of I-told-you-so, knew they wouldn’t be fine if I left them behind.

The gas tank exploded down the road.

Not a scratch, I remembered Gabe saying.

I grinned, Oops.

“Percy,” my mom said. “When he sees us, he’ll charge. Wait until the last second, then jump out of the way—directly sideways He can’t change directions well once he’s charging. Do you understand?”

“How do you know all this?” Seriously, most of my lessons were on the sea, how did mom learn so much about land threats? Did she have lessons?

“I’ve been worried about an attack for a long time. I should have expected this. I was selfish, keeping you near me.”

Triton agreed with her though, “Keeping me near you wasn’t selfish!” He wanted me away too.

Another bellow of rage. I looked to see the bull-man starting uphill.

He’d smelled us.

The pine was only a few more yards away, the crackling on my skin getting stronger with each step. But the hill was getting steeper and slicker, and Grover wasn’t getting any lighter.

I’m glad it’s raining, the water was healing me from the damage from the lightning, just not fast enough. The crackling electricity and rubbing salt are rebelling against my power. I made vague note of the way it’s making it harder to control and heal from but focused back on the bull-man.

The bull-man got closer, another few seconds and he’d run us over. The itch was getting stronger.

My mother must’ve been exhausted, she didn’t even have the rain partially on her side, but she shouldered Grover. “Go, Percy! Separate! Remember what I said.”

I don’t want to split up, but she’s right. It’s probably our only chance. I made a mental note to research land threats more later as I sprinted to the left, turned and saw the Minotaur almost on top of me. The itch of a curse pressed in like the rubbing salt. He reeked like rotten meat.

He lowered his head and charged, those razor-sharp horns aimed straight at my chest.

I was terrified, I’ve fought two monsters before, an empousai and one of the furies. But both were quick, and the fights based on instinct. This… I swallowed the fear making me want to flee. I can’t outrun this thing. I did as mom said and held my ground, then leapt to the side at the last possible moment.

The bull-man went straight past like a freight train, then bellowed with anger and frustration and turned. It wasn’t facing me this time though, it turned towards my mother. My breath caught.

My mom had just finished setting Grover down in the grass. I could see a valley beyond the crest of the hill, the lights of a farmhouse glowing yellow in the rain, about a half a mile away.

I tried to move forward, but the itch of the curse, the crackling of the stormy power, the rubbing salt. I could barely breathe through all the feelings converging on me.

The bull-man grunted, pawed the ground, and charged towards my mom.

“Run, Percy!” she called. “I can’t go any farther. Run!”

I stood frozen, everything too much for me, the fear overwhelming on top of everything else, as the monster reached her.

She tried to do what she told me to, sidestep at the last second, but the Minotaur had learned his lesson. His hand shot out and grabbed her neck, lifting her off the ground as she struggled, kicking and pummeling the air.

I couldn’t breathe, “MOM!”

She caught my eyes, managing to choke out one last word: “Go!”

Then the monster closed his fists around her neck with an angry roar. A feeling of coiling shadows and blazing fire rippling over my skin as she dissolved into a shimmering golden form, like a holographic projection. A blinding flash, and she… she was… she was gone.

“NO!” My voice broke.

Anger filled me, rage burning at the feelings overwhelming me. I pushed past the itch, the crackling electricity, the rubbing salt, I felt a surge of energy fill me.

The rain no longer felt so foreign.

The bull-man leaned over Grover, who lay helpless in the grass. He snuffled at my semi-friend, as if he were going to turn Grover dissolve to gold as well.

No. No one else is being taken today.

I stripped off my red rain jacket.

“Hey!” I screamed, waving the jacket, running to one side of the monster. “Hey, you- you- you obtuse oaf! Are you always this stupid, or are you putting in extra effort today? Blinder than a bat if you can’t tell the difference between a Satyr and a Half-Blood. Your sense of smell must be worse than an owl’s to make that mistake!”

The bull-man turned towards me, shaking his meaty fists with a roar.

Charging towards me in blind rage.

I put my back to the big pine tree, ignoring the way that electricity blazed over my skin and waved my red jacket in front of the bull-man. My fingers flicked open the lid of my waterskin, my hand closed over the trident charm as I dropped the jacket.

The Minotaur bore down on me, hands out to either side to stop me from fleeing.

Too bad that’s not my plan.

A twist of my hand had the water whipping out and freezing in an instant, the shard of ice slamming into the Minotaur’s head, it lowered it at the last second and the ice sliced through his horns. Shattering in the process.

It roared.

I raised my hands, and brought them down, a lash of water coiling out and yanking at its muzzle, and with another movement, yanking it to the side.

It gave a muffed snarl, staggering to the side.

I pulled the charm, summoning my trident at last.

The trident gleamed, the tips glowing a faint bronze in the rain. I fell into the stance that Triton taught me, and yanked the water whip I’d wrapped around the Minotaur. I lunged forward, driving the trident through it’s ribs, and into it’s chest.

I stumbled back as the monster roared, pulling my trident out, it clawed at it’s side, before it began to disintegrate—not like my mom, in a flash of golden light, but like crumbling sand. A burn slid over my skin, familiar once more, as the sand blew away in chunks on the wind. The same way Ms. Dodds had burst apart.

The Minotaur was gone.

The rain had stopped too, the rubbing salt and scorching lightning leaving my senses, only a faint feel at the edge of me.

The crackling lightning still curled over my skin, echoing from the tree.

I smelled like livestock, my knees were shaking, my head ached, my skin felt raw. All the energy left me, leaving me feeling weak, scared, and trembling in grief.

My mom was gone. I’d killed the minotaur.

I wanted to lie down and cry, the only thing keeping me standing was my grip on my trident. I shook, standing there for a long moment staring blankly at the electric tree.

I want Triton.

“Food!” moaned Grover.

I let out a shuddering breath and turned to face him. He still needs to be brought to safety.

I turned my trident back into its charm form and moved forward, my backpack still on my back, and my waterskin at my side.

I frowned, oops, need to put the lid back in. Thankfully it has a cord connecting it to the skin or I would’ve lost it.

I closed the waterskin, my head spinning. Okay maybe dump some water on myself first.

Doing that restored some energy, but I still have to get Grover down to the house.

I bent down and hooked an arm under him, managing to haul him up.

I started staggering down the hill, towards the light of the farm house.

My head hurts, I’m definitely crying, I want mom, I want Triton, I want mom. I held tight to Grover and cried, stumbling down the hill, everything aching despite the soothing water. I’m not letting anyone else go.

I collapsed on the wooden porch of the house, I could barely see, my vision fading. A ceiling fan spun above me, the electric feeling hadn’t faded despite my distance from the tree, and now there was a new sense nudging me. I’m too exhausted to recognize it.

Two faces appeared above me, one a familiar-looking bearded man, and the other a pretty girl, her blond hair curled like a princess’s. They both looked down at me.

The girl said, “He’s the one. He must be.”

“Silence, Annabeth,” the man said. “He’s still conscious. Bring him inside.”

The last thing I felt as I passed out was the feeling of the ocean, pulsing from the conch shell charm on my bracelet.

 Bonus Triton POV

What is going on!?

First Father gets accused of theft, then there’s a war brewing? Can Zeus have common sense for five minutes?

The semester without talking to Percy was stressful. I like this little brother, and he needs support! He’s just a kid, and father certainly isn’t paying him any attention. He attracts danger like nothing else too, none of my previous (annoying) half-siblings had this much trouble until they were much older.

Honestly, I’m so sick of this, if Zeus could stop jumping to conclusions faster than an octopus changes colors that would be great. I want to be able to talk to Percy, make sure nothing else has gone horribly wrong, or at least be able to look in on him without worrying that someone would sense me doing so.

But now, of course, something else has happened!

My conch brooch, connected directly to Percy’s charm, is blazing.

I can sense Percy’s health, and it’s not good.

Burns, Percy is covered in electric burns.

I nearly bolted for the door, that’s not something he can get on accident. And certainly isn’t minor like the scrapes and bruises he’s gotten before.

I snarled quietly as I realized that I couldn't leave the meeting. This is an emergency and I’m trapped in this Chaos forsaken room to do paperwork. The other deities in the room were already staring at me in confusion, and I can't let them know about Percy, not yet. So I smiled and nodded for Mazu, who came all the way from the pacific areas for this meeting, to continue.

How did Percy get covered in burns?!

Okay, okay. Let’s stay calm. Percy will be okay surely, if he’s in trouble he has the pearl. He can come to me with it. He’ll be safe. He’ll be-

He’ll be passing out apparently.

Oh no, the burns are really bad. He needs medical attention. Where is he!?

Damn it, Percy is dying, but if I leave this meeting there might be war. The sea cannot deal with the twelve way war that would break out from me majorly insulting these deities. I forced the polite smile to stay on my face while I panicked inside.

I'll go to him as soon as this is over. He'll be okay.

My stomach twisted, he'll be okay. He has to be.

Whoever hurt him is going to regret it, I will not stand anyone bringing harm to my little brother.

#avatar: the legend of percy #Avatar the legend of percy #avatar fan percy #percy jackson #perseus jackson #Grover underwood #percy figures out how to control water young #waterbender percy #percy calls himself a waterbender #sally jackson #the minotaur #smart percy #strong percy #pjo #pjo fanfiction #pjo fanfic #percy jackson fanfiction

[yozokai]

Some older fics I love to death

Countdown - Falling for this clumsy college student is as unexpected as the event that brings them together in the first place.The only problem lies in the fact that he isn't actually a college student.

Danger Line - A police-themed au in a modern setting.  Eren has started his new job as a cop but as soon as he does, he has a run-in with a mafia boss named Levi.  He soon finds himself in a web of twisted lies and corrupt cops.

Do Me a Favour and Break My Nose - “Now, listen, kid, and you listen good.” His voice was in my ear again and this time its latent danger was unmistakable. “Rabid animals are put down, as they are a danger to themselves and others.” Eren's in some deep shit, almost certainly.

Fanboys - Eren is living the fanboy dream. The young German has managed to do what very few other foreigners have and landed a job at a Japanese animation studio. As if that weren't amazing enough, one of the senior animators on the project, Levi, has been an idol of Eren's since he was just fifteen.Eren feels he must maintain a professional facade and try not to be too obvious in his fanboying, but an conversation on twitter reveals that Levi might just be a bit of a fanboy himself.

In Hot Water - A thief wanders into a small town, and ends up stealing a lot more than a few jewels. Thief!Eren Cop!Rivaille; AU.

Lists - The story of Levi ("Why bother trying to make friends when you can learn to control people instead?") and Eren ("Because you can control people better when they think that they're your friends. They don't even know they're being manipulated.") coping with social interaction at college in their own different ways.

Lost and Found - Eren was lost. Very, very lost and far from home. What had started as a fun night out became an aimless journey through unknown streets, routes taken that could potentially lead to a variety of dangerous situations.Or, as it turned out, unexpected meetings.

Masochistic Sympathy - Eren and Levi reflect on the reality and failure that was the 57th Expedition beyond the Wall. Both are emotionally boiling and unexpectedly meet, snapping on each other. Words are not something they can use to sympathize with one another.

Neither Tarnished Nor Afraid - Levi is a rare thing; a man of honour in a city eternally selling its soul. They gave him a gun and a badge, and he walks the cruel and indifferent streets of Southport doing what he can for the forgotten ideal of justice. Someone else in Southport has an interest in justice as well, and he leaves a bloody trail of corpses in his wake as he tears through the city's underworld.Levi's duty is to hunt him down, whether he is an avenging angel, a monster, or something slightly more complicated than either.

Snow and Silence - When reclusive Eren Yeager finds a half-frozen stranger on his front porch, he has no idea how much the encounter will come to change his life. And yet, even as his fascination grows, so do the mysteries around the enigmatic man. Who exactly is Levi, and can Eren trust him?

The Little Titan Café - Just another cliche AU in which Eren works as a barista in his mother’s café, specializing in latte art. And then there’s Levi, who’s not exactly your typical patron, because, well, he’s blunt and rude (which Eren supposes isn’t that much different from regular customers) but mostly he just confuses Eren’s poor little homosexual heart.

Too Close to Me - "... A quick glance over and he has an up close and personal view of those beautiful, wide eyes. The bottom falls out and Levi understands there is no going back, not anymore."Levi is a high school lit teacher, Eren a senior in his class with three months to graduation. A story about resisting and succumbing to temptation in which Eren constantly chases after Levi and the one time Levi allows himself to be caught.

Whiskeyed Revelations - Written quickly from an idea based off a Never Have I Ever Tumblr prompt, only they're not in high school.  They continued in the circle for a while with only a few taking sips of their drinks in response to the lame statements before Mikasa ratcheted up the awkwardness, “Never have I ever walked down the street with a concealed weapon.”  Everyone turned incredulous eyes to her, wondering why on earth she would ask that. Levi took a drink.

and

It’s Funny Because Eren Can’t Read - In the Survey Corps, reading and comprehending paperwork is equally as crucial as it is beyond the realm of Eren's capabilities.  However, with his CO's confidential tutelage, Eren is sure he'll be able to catch up with his comrades in no time... if he can shake this unexpected suspicion that his fondness for humanity's strongest soldier isn't simple hero worship.Hint: He cannot.

#fic rec #levi x eren #top levi #bottom eren #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #snk #aot #rivaere #riren

[sexc-honeymoons]

Hi can you please do a concept based on the song from Katy Perry one that got away with Corbyn I hope you understand what I’m saying I know this sounds confusing :)

Bold - is song lyrics. Italics - is the the past memories.

-

Summer after high school, when we first met. We make-out in your Mustang to Radiohead.

“That’s so not fair!” You gasped at corbyn as he stole your candy fish. Corbyn covered his face with his hand, giggling as he stuffed the candy into his mouth. “Yes it is, baby. You steal my stuff all the time.” He stated as if was a fact, only being true. You playfully rolled your eyes, not having a comeback because it was truth what he had said. Corbyn popped a another candy into his mouth, gripping it to his teeth with the other half out. You leaned over his car dash, biting the exposed sweetness. “I’m so glad i met you.” He cooed, reach to squeeze your cheeks. You rejected by swatting his hand away. Corbyn made effort to push your hands down, reaching to cup your cheek. His lips pressed against your, his soft ones connecting to yours in perfect sync. “I love you so much.”

And on my eighteenth birthday, we got matching tattoos.

You sat in the black leather chair, half scared to death. You watched corbyn in fear, hands shaking. His tongue wedged between his teeth, pain inducing his forearm. Your chest clutched, tightening all body, stiff of movement. Corbyn gazed up at you only to see your fearful eyes burning holes into you. The needle cutting his skin to place the black ink rose shape you two picked together. “You’ll be fine. It don’t hurt that bad.” Corbyn gave you a sympathetic smile. You nodded slowly, not believing his words. “You’re finally eighteen, cheer up. Happy birthday, kid.”

Used to steal your parents liquor and climb to the roof. Talk about our future like we had a clue. Never planned that one day I'd be losing you.

“Grab the fucking vodka!” You shrinked, watching look-out Incase corbyn’s parents busted into the room. “What are we gonna do with vodka?” Corbyn whispered-yelled, shaking his head at you, he had a different taste in alcohol. The laughter coming from his and your parents was heard from the downstairs liquor room where you and corbyn stood. You glanced at him, knowing any minute someone would be down here. He groaned before grabbing the clear glass bottle that contained the drunken substance. “Thank you.” You muttered, gently swiping it from his hands. “Your welcome.” He rolled his eyes before cracking a smiling. “The roof await us.” You spoke in a high class voice making him chuckle. “Let’s go, my lady.”

So I don't have to say you were the one that got away. The one that got away

You huffed in irritation, tugging at your roots. “W-why are you being like this?” You squeaked. Corbyn cheeks red from his short temper, rage. “You fucking started it!” Corbyn violently yelled making you flinch, you dropped your hands to your hips shaking in disbelief. “Me? I started it? I only said because you’re never fucking home, it’s the truth. You don’t care about me!” You shouted in annoyance. He scoffed, face turning different shade of red now. The vains in his neck and forehead poking out of his skin, displeased with your manners. His face scrunched up, grinding his teeth. “Yeah, it’s always about you because you’re some fucking princess of a imaginary castle!” He waved his arms around, sarcasm dripping off his tongue. You pinched the bridge of your nose, stomping your foot. “I never said it has to be about me! It’s the fact that you’re constantly in that fucking studio!” You raised your voice, fire burning in your throat, dry from all the yelling. “You’re never satisfied with what I do. No matter what you’re always up my ass! You should fuck off.” Corbyn dashed towards you only to be closer. You scoffed, biting your lip as hot tears built in your eyes. “I guess, i won’t be up your ass anymore, I’m just baggage right?” You gulped, turning away from him. Corbyn didn’t chase after you, only watching you walk away.

Someone said you had your tattoo removed. Saw you downtown, singing the blues. It's time to face the music, I'm no longer your muse.

You stared out the clear window of the cafe, walking the people walk by. The cold air in the room making you snuggle into your sweater. Your eyes landed on the past boy, walking down the street of manhattan with one of his band mates. Smiles lit up his cheeks, reminding you of how he used to smile when he was with you, the fucking smile that he wore everytime you’d kiss his lips. Your heart boomed out of your chest wanting to run up corbyn and give him a cuddly hug. But it was ashame that he wouldn’t feel the same for his childhood love that he knew his whole life, breaking you once more. It was three years, he hasn’t called, texted, anything. You was snapped out of the daydream by your friend, ramona, slamming your coffee against the wooden table. You jumped, pressing your hand to your chest. “You scared me!” You gasped, watching as she pulled out a chair across from you. “You was watching him wasn’t you?” She motioned to him passing down the side walk. You shrugged not fully answering the question.

“He got the tattoo removed. Did you know?”

“No.”

The one that got away.

You stood at the edge of the bed, tear stained cheeks, eyes puffy and swollen. Your thumb brushed over the rose tattoo on your wrist that you gotten years ago, slowly fading of color like the love you both had shared. The pictures of you guys surrounded the bed, smiling, kissing, other things. The ball in your throat getting tighter by the seconds, feeling like you was slowly suffocating. It was a hell to be without him, missing the feeling of his body not next to yours. Sleepless nights because you knew he wasn’t coming back, that’s what kept you up. It bugged you that he never tried, letting go so easily. Why was it so hard for you but it wasn’t for him? Million questions but no answers. Your chest rose slightly as you begged yourself not to let the tears start again. He was truly the first love you ever had, first everything. Corbyn held a special place in your heart but he was the one that got away.

#wdw #why don’t we concepts #why don’t we imagine #why don’t we imagines #why don’t we #corbyn besson concepts #corbyn besson imagines #corbyn besson imagine #corbyn besson #daniel seavey #daniel seavey concepts #daniel seavey imagine #daniel seavey imagines #jonah marais concepts #jonah marais imagines #jonah marais imagine #jonah marais #zach herron concepts #zach herron imagine #zach herron imagines #zach herron

[flyswhumpcenter]

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled. I don’t have any request left, so feel free to send in suggestions for this card!).

I need to write more Makaito smh

Y'all don't even know how surprised I got to see @mythgirlimagines had sent me a request. Most of all because I rarely get those, but man, that was a good surprise. I had to ask her for another duo (as I know nothing about UDG, not gonna lie), but I always love more Makaito in my life despite the appearances. I always get crazy about the worldbuilding in this AU, but in short: everyone has powers (yes, everyone, even your grandparents). They're called mages. There are three types of mages: weapon users, spell casters and healers. Sometimes there are hybrids between these models (of 2 kinds at the same time). Hybrids are chased by bounty hunters for plot reasons. Maki used to be one, but she's become a "hunter of hunters". I think that's all you need to know for this fic? Oh yeah, this fic contains some French because the main setting, the city of Hellesimbault, is heavily based on French culture. It just made more sense to keep some French in.

It should have been angstier than that, but I was in a fluffier mood today, so here you go. I really need to provide more for this ship.

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Flickering Lights

Summary: The night has never been safe for anyone in the darker streets of the city, yet a duo makes it way through the shadows with vigilent crimson eyes and purple thunder. Still, even the most attention doesn't always give away damage people can take, doesn't it?

Fandom: Danganronpa V3 (magical people AU) Ship: Makaito (Established)

Wordcount: 2.2K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

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Quartier de la Lune, Hellesimbault, January. The dire cold blew in harsh winds as the dust and garbage littered on the barely lit ground fly right against the ground, their mass never quite taking off. The artificial lights flicker in incoherent rhythms, drilling into the skulls of passers-by with their constant noise you can’t quite get used to, even after hearing it for a while (it just stops being your main nuisance). The rest of the streets leading to the old Moon Temple is sunk in the night’s darkness, with only a few flashes and bursts of clarity piercing through the sea of shadows.

Personally, Nerio was one of these shadows, and had always been. She had gone through everything possible: abandoned girl, orphan raised along the nice and the bad, forced through the grinder to become a bounty hunter, now on the opposite side of the underground war. Hidden under her hood, crimson eyes focusing on any light and ears open to all possible noise, she was used to the darkness.

In fact, she was in unison with the underground, hostile, familiar universe of Hellesimbault’s darkest streets and ruins long buried by modern civilisation.

 In the shadows, she felt safe as soon as she was wearing the mask of Nerio, named after a goddess of war, a bloodthirsty figure in need for a vengeance and taking it out onto bounty hunters with no hope of redemption. It felt good to shoot arrows at criminals like those who had forced her into the network as a preteen whom life hadn’t directly shown its atrocious parts to yet, and it was the one way she had ever felt alive: reclaiming her rotten childhood and early teenage years by showing them she’s now better than them.

She hadn’t quite killed her abductors, even when an untold furry had possessed her into doing so by hindering any semblance of reason she could have had, only because some guy who couldn’t get enough of her had put his hand on Enyo’s shoulder and whispered to her, in a disapproving but paradoxically soft voice:

“Maki, that’s enough.”

 That was the day where she had truly stopped only considering herself as Nerio, bloodstained shadow and reluctant, yet effective, bounty hunter turned hunter slayer, a figure of the shadows, and more like whom she had been during in the daylight all this time.

All thanks to an absolute idiot she had met in class because he wouldn’t stop not wanting to talk to her.

 Their tandem made no sense. She was a figure of the night, a girl shrouded in darkness, content being left alone. Her arms and legs were covered in scars, her hands calloused from handling her magical weapon, her feet permanently threaded with the liquified mana of her former adversaries. Her spirit was calculating, her character quiet, her face always covered with a mask. She never had had friends before high school had come around, before people flocked to her because she had apparently stopped being threatening to some. That was around this time that Nerio started to fade and Maki took her place, progressively, until Nerio was the persona and Maki the person.

If she was used to the horrors of Hybrid trafficking, he couldn’t have. He was a benevolent figure of the day, loud to the point of being obnoxious, rude but well-meaning, never second-guessing anything, acting before he thought. His arms and legs, displayed by much more revealing clothes than her elbow-long sleeves and opaque tights, were defined yet not showing a trace of damage like a recently sculpted statue, his hands were strong but their skin soft, his character remarkable, his face displaying a smile and never hiding anything from sight. He was popular, dizzyingly so, people constantly around him, but he had his inner circle. He had come to her, introduced himself, asked her who she was and, before she realized it, he had accepted her into this inner circle so few would have even dared dreaming about entering in the Cité Scolaire, and that was when her façade crumbled before his friends and him. Before she knew it, Kaito had found himself a night persona, Uranus, who barely was different from the person.

It pained her to have him as her partner for this very reason: he was too good for the shadows, too bright for the darkness, and he’d only be busted before she could save him. She wasn’t ready to lose him to the urban abyss, but he insisted, and his presence was too warm for her not to want it.

 Still, Uranus had impressive fighting skills. His dream to one day be the first mage to reach space and discover if there was a world aside from theirs had pushed him to maintain a perfect form, despite an unfortunate illness trying to limit his life. She’d have expected him to be a weapon user, like she was, but the equivalent to his crossbow life had given him was a cape whom had the powers to create the tiniest blackholes and power up his offensive magic. They were power units in vastly different domains, sure thing, but she was still impressed by how many enemies he could take at once and still win over.

The main issue of their duet was their range: it was too long for close combat. If an enemy was to sneak up on them and force her to switch her weapon for her fists and kicks, there was no doubt she’d have a harder time taking care of them. He was more or less the same: long-range spells, very poor to non-existent support magic, a blackhole strategy that’d be more of a double-edged sword and, of course, his fairly frail constitution outside of his training. Neither was a healer, so they couldn’t possibly count on that either.

 Under the full moon of the harsh January, lights flickering above them like candles on a tomb flowing with the wind, they were fighting against an ambush. A bunch of low-grade Hybrid bounty hunters, eyes staring at them with an indiscretion she was getting tired of, their hands on their weapons and only waiting for the duo to slip up. Nerio wouldn’t give them the pleasure to kill her and take her corpse away for them to get compensation for a murder, so she shot arrow after arrow, ignoring various attempted status ailments thrown at her and gusts of winds repeatedly trying to flip her skirt up. All she had to hide under the hem of her dress were tights and a holster with a material hatchet in case she was in a desperate situation; but using it in front of Uranus felt dirty. It’d be nothing but a cheap shot at life when she had proved to him countless times before she was more than competent.

Their number was dwindling more quickly than her mana, sure, but the fighting was tiring her out, most likely him too, and they had class to attend tomorrow (Kaito had managed to convince her, with the insistence of the overly cheerful Kaede). She’d better make it quick, so she charged her cheapest shots in and didn’t mind the drawbacks of wasting more of her power endurance to quickly put an end to the fight. Rapid-fire, crimson arrows it’d have to be, in the end: not quite her Final Gambit spell, which she was still trying to control, but still one powerful enough to clear through the ranks and through her mana reserves. Any child of the shadows would have learnt that exhausting their magic entirely was nothing more but signing their worse-than-death fate: being forgotten in the icy streets of the underground city.

 Their adversaries were most likely scummy opportunists, because they disappeared after a few arrows had been thrown at them. It didn’t prevent her from exhaling a sigh of relief, the danger of the streets weakening around them as the lights stopped flickering. Too much magic in the air to make the one used by the electric network function properly, she supposed: it didn’t matter this much, to be frank. All she wanted to do was go back home, now that she had exterminated the vermin for the night.

Maki turned her attention back to her partner who, like her, was still transformed into his battle attire. He looked just fine, smiling at her with his darkness-eating grin and a thumbs-up. Giving him a nod, they silently decided to go back to their base, where surely Kaede and Shuichi were waiting for them before going to sleep at last. Despite her earlier loneliness, she felt safe and welcome around their little group, her companions, her friends.

 Yet, despite the peace of hearing nothing but their footsteps and breathing, the mandatory silence of the underground nights pushing them not to speak to each other before they’d safely make it to their home, there was something bothering Maki. It wasn’t the sudden silence: she was used to activity dying down and coming back much, much later, when they wouldn’t be there anymore. Thinking silence was a trap in those uncharted territories was a beginner’s mistake: it was a sign towards the right direction. The narrow walls always made sounds resonate and echo to a hunter’s ears.

It was a smell in the air, the faint smell of iron. It was close to her, yet hindered by something, and she couldn’t quite put her hand on where she had smelt it before. Her confusion merely lasted a few moments, though, until she realized it couldn’t have been anything but blood tainting something, its scent retained by something else, but remaining detectable nonetheless. One source and one source only: the dark crimson puddle she was seeing on her partner’s attire.

 “Kaito,” she suddenly said, stopping in her tracks.

“Hm?” He turned his attention to her, hand mindlessly over the epicentre of the issue. “What’s wrong, Maki Roll?”

“You’re injured, you idiot. I thought you wanted us to tell each other everything.”

Her eyebrows frowned.

“I am? I promised I would tell you everything, Maki Roll, you must be imagining things!”

She knew when he lied, when his voice would sound fake, when his eyes looked too much to the left and when he wouldn’t stop laughing nervously. It disturbed her that none of these cues were there.

“Your hand,” she only said as an explanation. “Look at your hand, you fool.”

 Kaito, luckily, understood immediately what hand she was referring to. He took it off the wound, eyes glancing at his mostly untouched palms, then the growing stain. It surprised it at first, almost sending him in a panic, until he breathed out and ignored the nervous sweat beads pearling on his temples.

“Ah, fuck, you’re right Maki Roll! They must have gotten a hit on me… Let’s get home fast then!”

She felt a tiny smile make its way onto her face.

“I’m surprised you didn’t feel it,” she replied as they resumed their walk, gaze often glancing at the stain. “It doesn’t look too deep, at least, if you can walk this easily.”

“Yeah… Most likely a bad cut. Nothing my sidekick can’t heal!”

“…you’re going to ask Shuichi to heal that for you?”

He blinked.

“On second thought, bad idea. It’ll heal by itself soon enough.”

“That’s also a terrible option. At least put a bandage on that thing, you moron.”

“Got it!”

 His eyes grew wider as he stared at her. Now, that was a look she didn’t like in the slightest: he usually gave it to her when he had a shitty idea to propose.

“Hey, Maki Roll,” he pointed his finger at her arms, “you’re injured too!”

Surprised, she stared at her forearms right afterwards, only to notice he was referring to small bruises and scratches.

“Oh, come on, you know this has nothing in common with what you could have been bleeding from, Kaito. It’s merely a scratch.”

“You should be careful too, then, if you scold me for being careless.

“I know what I’m doing, unlike you, but thank you for the concern.”

“Hey, I know what I’m doing too!”

“Sure, sure.”

 He showed her a hand, palm turned to her.

“Don’t worry, that’s one not stained with blood”. His grin.

She found him ridiculous and beyond cheesy, but took his fingers in hers anyway, enlacing them together.

“As long as you don’t need me as a clutch, it’s fine.”

“Of course I don’t! I’m Uranus, Luminary of the Stars!”

Oh god. He was ridiculous, and such an idiot, but her life had only improved ever since he had arrived there. She could only partially attribute it to his idiotic side, in a way.

“Your predictability is utterly disappointing, sometimes, you know that?”

“I also know you secretly love it, Maki.”

“If you say so. There’s no discussing with you anyway.”

 Right in front of her, he brushed his other hand on his attire’s pants, barely giving her the time to frown in disgusted surprise, and swiped her hood in a swift movement with the back of his hand. All of this to put a kiss on her forehead, a childish peck, that nonetheless makes her cheeks slightly heat up.

“You’re an untameable idiot, Kaito.”

“I’m your idiot, though, Maki Roll.”

She looked away, chuckling despite her best attempts at controlling herself.

“…I know, I know.”

#bad things happen bingo #makaito #momoharu #maki harukawa #kaito momota #danganronpa #ndrv3 #injury #hurt comfort #au: osas #blood #otp: harumaki #bthb 2

[dramaticironyoflife]

Baby Bird (Fly Home) - Chapter 12: Who Was the Last?

Summary:

The story continues! It is perhaps the most disheartening to learn what you have once you have lost it. Patton is trying to return to life before the boys, the boys are trying to maintain some control over their lives, and Mrs. Strand just needs to stop reading so many parenting books.

Notes:

I am back and ready to give you all more angst! In repentance for the last heartbreak I gave out, I also offer you some fluffy boys being comforting towards each other.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

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Virgil hated how quickly he adapted. The routine of accepting the pity of others because the grownups told you that you didn’t have a choice. He shot a glance at Logan, making sure that he was alright. They were walking home from school. They had been placed with the Strand for the time being while lawyers and attorneys argued back and forth about their future. The world was never kind enough to pause while unfortunate sufferers tried to gain some footing. The world kept turning, high school still sucked, and he was sure that he was the hottest topic at his previous workplace.

Logan hated how he couldn’t get Virgil to talk to him openly. He had to quicken his pace to keep up with Virgil’s long strides, his backpack jostling as he did so. Virgil seemed dead to the world. His hood was up, and earbuds plugged his ears. Logan knew better though. He could see the bright eyes partially hidden under the bangs. They darted back and forth quickly, assessing every person, sometimes dwelling on someone for a millisecond longer. Logan had learned to both trust and fear Virgil’s mind. He was always ready to jump to Logan’s rescue or protection, always on edge. At the same time, though, he was always on edge. He didn’t trust anyone, and his mind was constantly twisting the normal world into paranoid ‘what ifs’. Virgil was the first person to run to in danger and the last person to ask for optimism. Logan watched him wearily now as they slipped back into the gated community that the Strands occupied. He wondered how much longer he would be forced to wait until he got his Virgil back again. Patton hated how quiet it was. He ran the vacuum in the now empty apartment that had been Virgil and Logan’s. The furniture he would sell and give the money to the boys. The rest of the room he simply cleaned and got ready to show to other possible guests. At the same time, however, he didn’t want to give it away. The idea of that felt like he would be accepting that they were really gone. Not that it made too much of a difference. They were gone and the sooner he accepted that, the better. He bit his lip and blinked hard. He turned the vacuum on and ran it over the carpet for the fifth time. He really did hate the quiet. Roman hated the traffic. He placed his chin on his hands, staring out the windshield with a bored expression. The people around him crawled forward and he groaned as his phone began to ring wildly. It had been three days since he’d seen the picture of the boys in the paper. Logan and Virgil were their names. Since then his life had been chaos. He’d tried in vain to find and contact his sister, cancelled at least a dozen different appointments, and convinced his agent that he could drive himself somewhere for a change. That didn’t stop people from calling and pestering him, though. He cocked an eyebrow at the mobile device before resolutely turning it off and tossing it into the back seat. No distracted driving! He chuckled at the irony of the situation as he realized that he wasn’t actually driving anywhere. Man, he really hated traffic. Mr. and Mrs. Strand hated when the boys were moody. At least, that’s what Virgil had concluded. Mrs. Strand got a very forced smile whenever Virgil and Logan returned to the house and didn’t return her cheerful greetings. They were new to the foster system, that much was obvious. Logan was polite but closed off. Virgil watched Logan as he neatly hung his backpack on the wall and nodded to Mrs. Strand. Virgil let his own bag fall to the floor only to have Logan pick it up and shoot him a look. Virgil sighed apologetically and Logan huffed in forgiveness. Mrs. Strand cleared her throat and smiled. She hated how the boys seemed able to communicate without her knowing what was going on. “Virgil, that was very nice of Logan, what do you say?” The boys blinked. They looked at each other in surprise. They both knew exactly what Mrs. Strand wanted and they both reached the conclusion that giving into such a ridiculous request was the last thing they wanted. You didn’t have to say ‘thank you’ or ‘you’re welcome’ if you were the Storm boys. You looked out of one another and did without a second thought. If one was in the wrong, you owned up to it, if you were in the right, you fought for it. They didn’t owe each other anything because everything they did for one another was an act of protective love. The difficulty was trying to explain this to a grownup who had never been in their position. The idea that they would have to had never occurred to the boys. Now, here they were, with Mrs. Strand staring them down and growing impatient, “Virgil.” She said, jerking her head in Logan’s direction. “That’s quite alright, ma’am.” Logan said sincerely, “Virgil doesn’t -” “No,” the woman cut him off with a raised hand, “Virgil, what do you say to Logan?” Virgil’s face turned red with embarrassment and then pale with anger. Logan read his expression and his mind flew. In a flash he assessed the situation and formulated a plan. If Virgil was surprised when Logan suddenly charged down the hall and past Mrs. Strand, the woman was stunned. The small boy pushed past her roughly and didn’t look back. He mounted the stairs quickly, clutching the railing as his glasses bounced up and down on his nose. Mrs. Strand turned a confused face after Logan and then looked to Virgil and then back towards the stairs. She couldn’t seem to make up her mind as to whether she should chase after the boy or drill the teen about what was wrong. She seemed on the verge of making up her mind when Virgil moved past her too, “Logan?!” He disappeared up the stairs, leaving Linda Strand to stare on in silence. Virgil found Logan sitting quietly on his bed. The boy looked up expectantly as Virgil entered. He seemed to relax somewhat, “Oh good, I was afraid Mrs. Strand was coming up and not you.” Virgil smirked, “You don’t like her either?” Logan looked ashamed, “No, she’s not the type of person I would ever imagine would have interesting kids. Or kids at all for that matter.” He slid over so Virgil could settle next to him. The teen wrapped a comforting arm around him, and Logan took the invitation to nuzzle close to the dark warmth and solid body next to him. “How’re you feeling?” Virgil asked as he ran his fingers through Logan’s hair. Logan shrugged, “The pain medication I took earlier is starting to wear off.” Virgil tensed, “Pain medication? What?!” Logan did his best to hide a flinch, “I had a headache this morning. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Virgil took a deep breath, “No, no, sorry for freaking out. I think I still have some stuff in my room from Patton. I’ll get you some.” It wasn’t a question, but Logan nodded. He sighed as Virgil drew away. He immediately missed the warmth of the other individual, but the teen was back in a matter of moments. He handed his brother a single pill and a half empty water bottle. Logan obediently swallowed the pill and chased it down with a few gulps of water. He let himself fall back against Virgil. “Tomorrow’s another day.” He stated with a feeling of dread. Virgil huffed, “Redundant but you’re not wrong.” Logan groaned and sunk deeper into the comfort of his brother’s grasp. Virgil looked over him worriedly, “You okay?” Logan shrugged noncommittedly before staring thoughtfully off into the distance. Virgil watched the brown eyes trace imaginary lines through the air, darting around. His face grew relaxed as he let thoughts drift in and out of his active mind. Virgil could tell when a particularly interesting thought captured his attention. His eyes lit up and he got very still. Virgil playfully poked the younger boy’s side, “What’s going on in that brain of yours?” Logan blinked a few times before he smiled sheepishly. “I was thinking about the time we planned to sneak out and buy some hair dye to change your hair.” Virgil smiled at the memory, “Oh yeah,” he laughed softly, “we were so excited and then we both fell asleep. You were so bummed about it the next day. It was almost funny.” Logan huffed and shoved Virgil away, only to have the older and bigger boy tackle him and pin him under his larger form. Logan grunted and shifted, wriggling around. He finally let himself go limp and resigned himself to his fate. Virgil got comfortable and let his eyes close. It was peaceful. A small pocket of quiet carefree fun in the midst of unknown realities and the feeling of impending doom that haunted them. Virgil felt sleep tugging at him when Logan spoke up again, “We should really do our homework.” Virgil turned his head so as to see Logan better, “Don’t act like you haven’t done it already.” Logan sighed, “Yes, I have. Have you, though?” Virgil smirked. “Yep.” He popped the ‘P’ happily, “We had a sub for my last class and while the rest of the class watched a movie, I did homework.” Virgil was fairly behind the rest of his age group. Neglecting one’s education to work full time to support a plan to take care of your little brother, turns out, does have consequences. Despite this, Virgil was catching up fast and he had one on one meetings with teachers to help him progress. Virgil had always been a good student, when given the opportunity. He had trouble staying motivated, though. His passions drove him to pursue English, writing, art, and subjects that allowed him to express himself and his thoughts behind the safety of a piece of paper or some other material. Math and science, on the other hand, drove him to resentment. He understood that the material was somewhat important but that didn’t change the fact that he had no desire to invest himself in those areas. Logan’s finger dug into Virgil’s cheek. “Are you listening to me?” The brown eyes flashed an amused light from behind the glasses. Virgil blinked a few times, “Uuuuuuhhhhh…I agree completely with whatever it is you just said?” The emo offered a toothy grin. Logan raised an eyebrow, “I asked you a question, Verge.” Virgil’s grin grew slightly wider, “Ah.” Logan rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Okay, first, get off me you weigh a ton!” He shoved at Virgil’s shoulders to emphasize his point. Virgil let himself relax completely for a moment before rolling off the smaller form. Logan grumbled and straightened himself out somewhat. “Secondly, I asked if you were still interested in dying your hair.” Virgil blinked. The dream of having a mop of unnaturally colored hair was one that Virgil had promised himself that he would someday do. However, it was hardly something that he had given much thought to in the past few years. He had been busy pursuing other plans and fantasies. Now, though, he could see some of the old Logan eagerly anticipating his answer. A request for adventure, to be Lolo and Verge once more with no thoughts towards parents, responsibilities, or eyes watching their every move. Virgil smirked and Logan’s whole face lit up. He jumped up and shot a glance at the clock; he estimated they had two hours before dinner would be ready. Plenty of time for them to sneak away, purchase the necessary supplies, and return before either of the Strands would come looking for them. Virgil seemed to read his thoughts because he dragged himself to his feet and disappeared into the room he was staying in. He returned with a wallet and a box of snake cakes, “Ready?” He asked as he slid the window open. Logan nodded eagerly and, together, they climbed out into the dying light. Patton woke to the sound of his phone going off. Blearily, he waved his hand around, searching for the device. He squinted but, without his glasses, it was impossible for him to see the number. Stifling a yawn, he accepted the call. “Hello?” He muttered sleepily, “WHERE ARE THEY YOU…” The rest of the sentence was lost as Patton threw his phone across the room. He blinked in surprise before scrambling to turn on a light and find his device. He clambered about for a few seconds before he finally located it. Luckily, it wasn’t broken. He carefully brought it to his ear once more. “Hello?!” The voice on the other end was a man’s voice and it was, thankfully, much quieter than the original speaker. “Y-yes?” Patton breath shakily, trying to wrap his sleepy mind around what the heck was going on. “Is this Patton Sanders?!” “It is…who is this?” Patton shifted uncomfortably. Who could be calling him at, he glanced at his clock, 11:42 PM? “My name is David Strand, we met when you brought Logan and Virgil Storm to the police.” Patton’s heart sunk, “What happened?” He demanded. His voice sounded small and strange and far away. There was a beat of silence on the other end. “We were hoping you could answer that.”

Notes:

My sister told me that I need to stop ending chapters on cliff hangers...I refused.

Tag list:

@bunny222

#fanfiction #sanders sides fic #Baby Bird Fly Home #thomas sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #My writing