#one time in middle school I tried asking the teacher for clarification on how to work through the problem bc I didn’t understand | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yourmidnightlover · 3 years

Note

also.. fluff 10 and smut 5 maybe 😌

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again: i LOVE fake dating.

fluff #10: fake dating

smut #5: first time (a classic)

CW: cursing, unprotected penetrative sex, fingering, oral (fem receiving), virgin!spencer, leaning towards dom!reader but not explicitly mentioned. *let me know if i’ve missed anhthing*

he needed something. something to make him seem less loser-y. he needed you.

spencer reid’s high school reunion was right around the corner. said high school reunion had all of the kids who would make fun of him, pick on him. the ones that stripped him naked on a pole. now he was 26 and in the bau for the fbi. he was successful. he made his mark. he saved lives.

but he still didn’t have a significant other. he didn’t have someone to come home to. he would have to go to his high school reunion with the knowledge that everyone was still more successful than him in the relationship aspect because he didn’t have that special someone.

“kid,” morgan intervened, “don’t let something like that make you not go to the reunion. you’re successful now. you’re pretty boy. that alone will rub it in their faces.”

“i know but everyone’s probably in a relationship now. they might even have kids and a wife or husband. i just... i want to seem like something to them,” he placed the lid on his coffee cup and began walking with morgan back to his desk.

“then ask someone to go with you. i know a little someone who wouldn’t mind posing as your girlfriend for a few nights,” morgan nudged his shoulder.

“morgan,” he rolled his eyes. “you know who i actually want to go with, which means you also know that she won’t want to go with me,” he finished explaining.

“y/n?” morgan whispered. “the girl who’s been fawning over you since she got here? the new liaison that’s been here for over a year that you still haven’t asked out?”

spencer turned his face to look at you through your office window. you were busy filing through cases, your head down in focus as you bit your lower lip while concentrating. your hair was crowding your face, obstructing the view of the beauty spencer has become mesmerized by.

“reeiidd,” morgan sang mockingly. “that just proves my theory. ask her out already.”

“i don’t want to ruin things, morgan,” he sighed as he sat down at his desk. “i wouldn’t even know how to ask her. i’ve barely kissed a girl, let alone ask one out.”

“you don’t have to ask her out, really,” he sat atop his desk. “just mention the situation and say she was the first person that came to mind, flatter her.”

“morgan, drop it,” spencer hissed as the bau filled a bit more.

“just ask her to go with you,” he said a bit louder.

“ask who to go where?” your voice rang through his ears, he liked up to see morgan smirking.

“uhm ask...” he ran his mind for another answer besides the truth.

“i know when you’re trying to come up with a lie, spence,” you chuckled.

“fine,” he sighed. “i wanted to ask if you’d mind going to my high school reunion with me?” he couldn’t meet your eyes.

“oh sure! that sounds fun,” you agreed. “why were you so nervous to ask?”

“well, you see,” he cleared his throat. “everyone in my class has a significant other and i just wanted to seem a bit less like a loser.”

“spencer you aren’t a loser,” you said sympathetically. “you save lives on a daily basis, you’re crazy smart, you have the sweetest personality, and you’re gorgeous. there’s nothing loser-y about you.”

“re-really?” he asked.

“of course, really,” you nodded, placing a hand on his shoulder. “and if you’d want me to pose as your girlfriend i’d be more than honored,” you added with a chuckle.

“thank you, y/n,” he smiled. “it-it means a lot to me.”

“of course. but for now,” you motioned to the files in your hand, “it’s case time.”

after a couple of months had passed, the reunion was finally upon the two of you. spencer had insisted on paying for your ticket to vegas because ‘he got you into this mess in the first place.’

you and spencer had to reserve one hotel room - courtesy of the school reunion. they just so happened to decide to allow the two of you to share one bed. it was reasonable, and cost efficient.

as the two of you entered the room, you were surprisingly caught off guard with not only the one bed in the room, but also with how nice the hotel room was. out on the balcony there was a jacuzzi that was covered by an awning. when you looked in the bathroom, there was a rather large tub and a separate shower adjacent to it.

“wow,” you awed. “this place is really nice.”

“i didn’t expect this,” he added. “i guess they saved the money from my actual high school years.”

you plopped down in the center of the bed, sighing as the soft mattress curved around your back, “i could really get used to this.”

“yea, me too,” he took the time to gawk at you as you seemed so peaceful, lying on the bed. “we uhm,” he cleared his throat, “we should probably start getting ready for tonight.”

“alright,” you groaned, slowly sitting up to prepare for the evening.

walking into his old high school, spencer felt a wave of nostalgia mixed with bile rising in his throat. this place was absolute hell for him. he was teased, ridiculed, practically tortured for being special.

“hey,” you squeezed his arm, which yours was wrapped around. “you’ve got this, spence. you aren’t the same defenseless kid you were back then,” you stopped him in the middle of the hallway and placed your hands on his shoulders, gently massaging them. “you are a successful adult with an amazing job and friends to support you. plus, you have a really hot girlfriend by your side,” you both chuckled at that.

“thank you,” he took a deep breath. “thank you for being here.”

“it’s my honor,” you placed your arm in the crook of his once more. “shall we?”

“we shall,” he smiled as you entered the gymnasium of his old high school.

spencer tried his best to avoid any glances or possible stares. it was nerve wracking, being here with his previous bullies. granted, with you by his side he was far less worried.

you had found a group of people he used to hang out with. he was never close with people in high school, but these kids at least didn’t make fun of him. they were all proud to see that the former child prodigy is now using his gifts for the betterment of their country. you had even seen his old math teacher that took a liking for him many years ago.

“spencer?” he heard a very familiar, chill-inducing voice. he looked up to see none other than her.

alexa lisbon.

“spencer,” she chuckled. “it’s me, alexa.”

he felt your grip on him tighten, reasonably so since you knew about what had happened.

“h-hi,” he stuttered out.

alexa wasn’t as beautiful as she was in high school. it’s true what they say about those who peek in high school, he presumes.

“how’ve you been? i heard you work for the fbi now?” she placed a hand on his shoulder, which he resisted swatting away.

“yup. the behavioral analysis unit,” he looked at you before wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “i actually met her there, at work.”

“...her? are you two...?” she retracted her hand from his shoulder as you curled into his chest.

luckily, you two had already worked out the kinks of your “relationship.” where you met, first date, how long, everything was figured out.

“yes. for six months now, actually,” he smiled and looked down at you. “it’s been an amazing time with her. i wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. i love you.”

“i love you too, sweetie,” you gave him a chaste peck on the cheek, noticing his blush once you retreated.

“well, that’s... nice,” she almost grimaced as she gazed over you. “how did he manage to get a girl like you?”

“like me?” you asked for clarification.

“y’know... beautiful?” she lent in towards you as if spencer wouldn’t be able to hear what she had said.

“excuse you?” you scoffed.

“you heard me,” she rolled her eyes.

“no, i heard you. i was just wanting to give you the chance to realize how incredibly dumb you sounded, but apparently you truly are just that. dumb,” you placed a hand on spencer’s chest protectively. “this is one of the strongest, smartest, and most brave men i’ve ever met. he protects our country every day by using his own intelligence, something you clearly lack. so next time you ever think about insulting him or me, i suggest you ask yourself whether or not your even deserving of talking to him.”

“i-i just-“

“just nothing,” you interrupted. “how about you go and annoy someone else with your lack of brain cells?” and she walked away with a roll of her eyes.

“i can’t believe her,” you scoffed, turning around to look directly at spencer.

“you uhm, you didn’t have to stand up for me like that,” he whispered.

“i wanted to,” you wrapped your arms around his torso. “she’s a bitch and it seemed like nobody has ever put her in her place. i’m glad i got the honor to do so,” you gloated.

“i know. but thank you,” he sighed, briefly looking over his shoulder. “i think she’s still looking.”

“do you trust me?” you placed your hands on the side of his face, drawing his attention to only you.

“always,” he nodded as you got on your tip-toes, gently pulling his face into your own.

he placed his hands hesitantly on your waist, helping to hoist you up to meet his own lips. it was better than he’d imagined - and boy, did he imagine this. you were gentle, and delicate but provided the passion that spencer shared with you, pulling his bottom lip between your own and gently nibbling it. he let one of his hands trail up your body, going to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. at this point, he had forgotten all about alexa and the other students at the reunion. it was just you and him.

“can we-“ you whispered softly to him, your forehead pressed against his, “can we get out of here?”

“please,” he breathed out as you grabbed his hand, pulling him back through the doors of the gymnasium to exit.

as soon as you opened the room, you were on each other. you nearly tore his jacket off of him as he worked on the dress you had worn. he wanted to take his time, to relish in this moment while it lasted, but his own eagerness betrayed him. he was far too excited to be able to slow down.

his hands roamed your body, pawing at the soft tissue of your breasts over your bra as you moaned into his mouth.

“take it off,” you sighed, allowing him to reach behind you and unclasp the clothing.

“fuck,” he awed upon seeing your bare chest, you giggled at his eagerness.

as he gawked at your chest, it was almost as if something had clicked in your mind. and he saw that it had.

“have you... done this before?” you asked, your hands moving down to his shoulders.

“like am i a... a virgin?” he bit his lower lip as he saw you nod. “... yes.”

it didn’t truly surprise you. he had never had a long term girlfriend, and as a child prodigy sex was probably pushed to the back burner.

“are you sure you want your first time to be with me? i’m pretty sure it’s supposed to be special,” you smiled half heartedly.

“of course i want to do it with you. was your first time special?” he rebutted, maybe he knew it wasn’t special ahead of time.

“you deserve for yours to be, though,” you tried to reason.

“it will be if it’s with you, please,” he let his hands trail to your waist as he gave you his best puppy dog eyes, pleading for you to keep going.

“and you’re sure?”

“so sure,” he whispered, smiling before connecting your lips once more.

you were content with that answer. he felt your hands wound in his hair once more, gently tugging at the locks to elicit a groan from spencer. you slowly pushed him back to sit on the bed and straddled his hips, his hands still firm on your waist. clearly, he still wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch. placing your hands atop his, you trailed them to the front of your body, stopping them once they reached your breasts. he looked up at you with eyes seeking approval, which you granted in the form of a nod. he leisurely took one of them into his mouth, your head rolling back in pleasure from the feeling. his hand continued to work on the opposite side, tweaking the nipple when he took it between his teeth.

“so good to me, spence,” you praised from his lap, slowly grinding against his bulge to seek any form of relief.

you were both getting more and more eager as the time passed, evident by the groans and whimpers that left each other’s mouths. because if this, you ran your hand down his front and let it remain over the bulge before gently stroking it.

“y/n...” he murmured. “please, i-i need...”

“need what, baby?” you asked with a smile. “need my mouth on you? need inside of me? tell me, sweet boy.”

“anything,” he decided to go with. “i need anything.”

“how about i just...” you got off of him to remove your pants before looking back at the man sitting before you. “care to even the playing field?”

“ri-right,” he chuckled before standing up to undo his belt and throw his pants off, followed by unbuttoning his shirt.

“so fucking pretty,” you walked closer to him and slid off your panties. “do you think i’m pretty, too?”

“i-i- of course, i do,” he reached for your waist hesitantly, eyeing your now bare pussy, his nerves not getting the better of him.

“yea?” you straddled him once more but this time pushed his torso down so he was lying on the bed.

he felt your hand trace his bulge that was still trapped inside of his boxers. the light touch was enough for him to whimper. he wanted nothing more than to make you feel good, but he was too mesmerized by the feeling of you.

“morgan has a point when he calls you pretty boy,” your lips were now happily decorating his neck. “i’ve never met a man who i can confidently call pretty, yet here you are.”

“plea-please,” his hips bucked up before you reached inside of his boxers, pulling him out of the fabric.

“before we keep going,” you paused for a moment. “i have condoms in my bag, but i’m clean and on the pill if you’d want to...”

“... not wear one?” you nodded your head. “i’m clearly clean, too. and i just - i really want to feel you.”

“perfect,” you chuckled. “let me do the work, baby,” you sat up temporarily, placing his dick just below your center. “you feel that? how wet i am?”

“yes, god, yes. i feel it,” his hips bucking forward allowed his dick to rub between your folds.

“that’s from you, my sweet boy. all you,” you ground your hips against his member once more, sending his head flying back from the friction.

“please,” he breathed out with obvious frustration. “i-i won’t last long if you keep going.”

“alright, i’ve got you,” you finally rose your hips, reaching between the two of you so you could line him up with your entrance before slowly sinking down on him.

“oh my god,” he whimpered. “you’re-you’re so tight and wet and - god.”

“does this feel as good for you?” you asked as you stayed stationary on his lap, trying to let him soak in this experience as much as he could.

“probably better, if i’m being honest,” he let his hands grip your hips with a bruising touch, too eager to realize his own strength.

“i doubt that,” slowly, you rose your hips before dropping them back down.

spencer’s hands found their way up to your chest, gently pawing at them with fascination. his hips began to meet yours as you picked up the pace.

“fuck, it feels so good,” he cried out, placing one arm around your waist so he could fuck you from beneath.

“ditto, pretty boy,” you groaned as his hips picked up the pace. “so fucking eager, baby. you feel so good inside of me. cum whenever you need to, baby. i want you to cum inside me.”

“fuck - i’m gonna - i-i-“ his hips thrusted up one more time before spurts of his cum filled you up. “oh, fuck!”

“oh, you did so good, sweet boy,” you stroked his hair as he fucked his cum into you, trying to ride out his orgasm. “so, so good.”

you continued to rub his shoulders and stroke his hair as he came down from his high.

“you didn’t come,” he whispered against your chest.

“it’s alright. i still enjoyed myself,” you smiled at the sentiment. “sex isn’t always about coming. it’s also about the intimacy.”

“but i wanted you to come, too,” he nearly whined. “can i... can i make you feel good, too?”

“how do you wanna do that sweet boy?” you wanted to hear him say it, that much was obvious.

“you know,” he turned his head on your chest, placing a chaste kiss on your breast.

“do i?” you tugged gently at his hair to hear him whimper once more.

“please, can i...” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “perform oral on you?”

“oh, i love it when you talk dirty to me, doctor reid,” you sighed with a soft chuckle. “of course you can.”

you lifted yourself off of him before he slowly rolled you over, kissing his way down your body to meet with your center. he placed a soft kiss to your clit before licking a broad stroke up your slit, cleaning up the mess he made inside of you.

“fuck, good boy,” he moaned at the praise, wanting to hear more and more every day.

and he worked for the praise. he lapped at your center and sucked lightly on your clit, quickly building the tension inside of your stomach. once he entered his finger, unprompted, you questioned how experienced he truly was. he curled the finger inside of you expertly, trying to find your g-spot and successfully doing so. it was only a few stroked from inside of you and sucking on your clit for a few more seconds when you came on his fingers, tugging on his hair and digging your nails into his shoulder.

“fuck, spencer!” you moaned out, throwing your head back as he worked you through your own high.

once you had come down, it took pulling spencer up by his shoulders for him to let up on your pussy. that man might’ve been made to eat a girl out.

“you did so fucking good, spence,” you praised before connecting your lips, gently sucking on his tongue.

“that was...” he trailed off, trying to think of the right word to describe it. “it was enticing,” he settled on.

“yea?” you chuckled against his lips.

“yea,” he smiled back before sucking your bottom lip between his own. “thank you, for this.”

“thank you for trusting me with this,” your fingers twirled his locks between your fingers.

“i don’t know how this normally works but... i think i just really want to-i want to...” he squinted his eyebrows before ripping the bandaid off, not wanting to sound too squishy. “can we just cuddle? i think i need to feel close to you.”

“of course we can, spence,” you replied. “but first i need to pee. i refuse to get a uti,” you quickly got up and ran to the bathroom, returning later and finding him cuddled underneath the sheets, leaving space on the bed beside him for you.

once you had laid down, he laid his head on your still bare chest. he loved the closeness and intimacy being bare with you had, and he had never felt it before.

spencer knew he had chosen the right person to not only share his high school reunion with, but also share his first time with. perhaps you would be the first, and last.

#spencer reid smut #mggwl 1k celebration #spencer reid

158 notes · View notes

prettyinpymtech · 4 years

Text

A Trip to the Library

Poe Dameron x Reader (Modern AU)

Summary: Poe is an elementary school teacher with a not-so-secret crush on the school librarian.

A/N: This was inspired by an idea I had for quite some time and yes, I did listen to “A Trip to the Library” from She Loves Me while writing this fic.

Friday.

Poe Dameron, much like his own students, impatiently awaited the end of the school week. His haste was hardly the result of resentment or displeasure-Poe valued his profession a great deal, appreciating the camaraderie of his colleagues and students alike.

But the end of the school week always promised a welcome respite from work-and a chance to visit you.

Your duties as school librarian had only begun a few months ago, but in that short time you had developed a rather particular bond with Poe. Leia had been the first to introduce you, asking Poe to provide assistance during your initial arrival.

As the weeks turned to months, he found his fondness for you continue to grow. He would often invite you to lunch, delighted by discussions of literature. He loved to watch you excitedly talk about a particular chapter and always welcomed a chance to spend more time in your company.

Poe’s admiration for the school librarian had not gone unnoticed. His students exchanged knowing glances when he would stare at the clock every Friday, nervously redoing his tie. He had decided to distract his thoughts by grading a few papers before a student interrupted the silence.

“Are you going to tell her?”

Poe instantly looked up, failing to conceal his blush at the question. “I’m sorry?”

“Miss Y/N,” stated the young boy. “Are you going to tell her you love her?”

A few giggles erupted from the other students. Poe tried to offer an explanation, surprised by the young boy’s observation, but he couldn’t hide the smile that appeared on his face. Fortunately the bell sounded throughout the hallways, providing a perfect diversion.

The children cheered, finally allowed to embrace a much-needed rest. They waved goodbye to their favorite teacher, racing towards the playground where their parents waited. Poe watched his students’ enthusiasm with a smile, chuckling at the young boy when he shouted, “You can do it!”

He waited until each of his students had gathered their belongings before making his way to the school library. The direction required only a few minutes, but he decided to leave early to visit with Leia before she left. Her office door remained open, providing a glimpse of the esteemed principal in the company of her husband.

They were in the middle of a deeply cozy conversation when Leia spotted Poe, inviting him to step inside. He tried to hide his amusement as the pair separated as though their own parents had caught them kissing.

“Hey, you two. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” he asked with an innocent smile.

Han rolled his eyes, clearly not amused. Leia simply gave her husband’s arm a gentle squeeze to ease his annoyance. “Not at all, Poe.”

“Got any plans for the weekend?”

“Han is taking me out for dinner.”

“How about you? You have any plans for the weekend, Dameron?” Then, with a teasing smile, Han added, “A date with Y/N, maybe?”

Poe’s wide eyes were almost comical and Han laughed at his attempts to offer an explanation. “I don’t-I mean, how did you-”

“The kid is hopeless, Leia,” Han stated with a deadpan expression.

“He is,” she responded, “but I still think he’s got a pretty good chance.”

She offered Poe a warm smile before moving towards the door, quickly followed by her husband as he placed his hand on Poe’s shoulder. “A word of advice, kid. Don’t wait too long. If you really love her, then tell her.”

Poe watched as Han wrapped his arm around Leia’s shoulder, placing a loving kiss on her head as they left.

Inspired by their words, Poe finally reached the school library. It had been your suggestion to extend the hours on Friday, providing a safe location for children to wait for their parents and providing a chance for them to find a book to read for the weekend. Poe had been the first to encourage your efforts, appreciating your concern for the well-being of the children.

His arrival was welcomed with the sight of students resting in the comfort of comfy chairs. A few looked up and waved in his direction before returning their attention to the pages in front of them. Poe relished the familiarity of the library, strolling past a variety of bookshelves and observing the selections they offered.

Poe’s amble ultimately came to a stop once he found you settled in a corner of the room, occupied with a display. Your entire presence affected him in a way he had never felt before, especially when you met his gaze with a warm smile that never failed to make him blush.

“You’re just in time!” Holding up two different streamers, you asked, “Which looks better? Blue or purple?”

Poe tried to form an answer. Tried to match the different colors with the colorful display of fairy tales, but all he could focus on was your features illuminated by the twinkling lights suspended overhead.

“Uh, blue.”

You gave a quick nod before taping the blue streamers into place and joined his side to observe your work. “What do you think?”

“It’s perfect.”

The display was perfect, but Poe’s observation was far too captivated by your beauty. You blushed when you turned to find him staring at you and rewarded his comment with a number of streamers draped over his shoulders.

“You’re far too charming, Poe.”

He gave a gentle tug on a streamer wrapped around your arm, enchanted by your laugh as you stepped closer. The close proximity allowed Poe a moment to indulge in his affection. Perhaps now was the perfect time to confess his feelings. Perhaps now was the time to-

“Hi Mister Dameron! Hi Miss Y/N!”

Well, perhaps not.

The slight tug of his shirt compelled Poe to look down, where he found one of his students looking up at him with wide eyes. “You look funny!”

She pointed to the streamers draped along his shoulders and giggled as he placed a few on her head. Kneeling down to her level, he noticed the book in her arms.

“What you got there, Allison?” The young girl proudly presented her selection. “Anne of Green Gables?”

“Uh-huh. Miss Y/N said it’s one of her favorites.” Suddenly aware of your presence, she stepped to the side and motioned for Poe to step closer. In a hushed whisper, she asked, “Are you going to tell her?”

There was no need to ask for clarification-apparently everyone knew who had captivated Poe’s attention.

He risked a glance in your direction, worried you had heard Allison’s question. But your back was turned to him while you arranged the books in your display, leaving him unable to gauge your reaction.

He nodded and Allison clapped excitedly. “Good! I know she feels the same way!”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because I heard Miss Y/N tell Miss Rose that you’re the handsomest man in the whole world!”

Her comment was met with a loud crash as you dropped the books in your hands and Poe suspected perhaps you had overheard their conversation.

He immediately rushed to your side, helping you pick up the books on the floor. An embarrassed chuckle escaped your lips as you took one of the books he returned in your grasp.

“I, uh, should get back to work,” you mumbled, ignoring his whisper of your name. “I still have to organize the shelves and-”

“Do you remember the time I snuck in here with Beebs?”

You furrowed your brows, puzzled by his question. “Of course. Leia was furious with you.”

Poe smiled at the memory, recalling Leia’s opposition to pets brought inside the building. He had tried to comply with her demands, but how could he possibly deny the pleading stares of his students?

The visit had been short, only long enough for each student to fall in love with the adorability of his corgi. The rest of the day had required Poe to sneak through the hallways, careful to avoid Leia’s fury. She had almost caught him and Poe, in a moment of sheer panic, rushed into the nearest room he could find-which just so happened to be the library.

The sight of Poe with a dog in his arms hardly surprised you. Instead you offered a teasing smile in his direction, very much aware of Leia’s initial stance, and returned your attention to the small group of children in front of you. They were far too fascinated by your dramatic narration of a story to notice the new arrivals. Poe had spent the rest of the day in the library, mindful of the admiration he felt as he watched you interact with the children.

“That was when I knew I loved you.” He stepped closer, his own voice now a whisper. “I’ve been meaning to tell you for a long time. I’ve loved you everyday since that moment, Y/N.”

You remained silent after his confession and Poe worried that perhaps he had made you uncomfortable. But those concerns were quickly dismissed once you pressed your lips to his. Poe’s touch immediately reached for your face, deepening the kiss with all of the love he had gathered for so long.

The children cheered as they spotted your embrace, though their delight was soon followed by discussions of who would be the first to tell Han and Leia.

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron #star wars imagine

169 notes · View notes

dayseternal-blog · 3 years

Note

i think im running out of naruhina fluff/smut. T-T. Can you help me out? hihi

🔍

you think you can hide behind anonymous 🧐 I’m quite certain I know who this is haha 😘

And for you, dearest anon, have three completely unfinished, barely started wips (EVIL CACKLES BECAUSE THESE GO NOWHERE)

But actually, if any of these one-shot ideas catch your interest, please let me know and maybe I’ll actually try to finish one of them?

Smutty Soulmate AU, where you meet your soulmate in your dreams each night upon turning 20.

When her alarm jars her from sleep, she’s always only left with a feeling and flashes of color. Today...she desperately tries to focus, to reach back, to remember…

Excitement. Red. Dark.

Her heart beats faster for reasons unknown to her, and there’s no point in trying any harder to slide the experiences of the soul into her brain. After pointless meditation sessions, longer naps, and all manners of effort with dream diaries and online tips, she’s been resigned to the fact that only her other half can unlock that translation of dreams to memories. She has yet to meet her soulmate in person.

Ever since her 20th birthday a few months ago, since that nerve wracking night of meeting her soulmate for the first time, going out has been a secret manhunt. Eyes peeled to every single passersby over the age of 20. Any one of them could be the person she’s spent the last 200 or so nights with.

So she dresses carefully for a day out with Sakura, Tenten, and Ino. They’ll be going to the restaurant where Sakura’s fiance works his part-time job. For all she knows, her soulmate might be there, too.

A guy? A girl? Her age? Much older? She has no idea what she’ll say to her soulmate, either. But she imagines that when she sees them, it’ll be like a homecoming. Planning is unnecessary, right? When it’s someone you actually see every night? If they didn’t like her, she can’t imagine why she would wake up every morning with so much residual happiness and longing.

-------------------------------------THAT’S IT @bunny-hoodlum

Ghost-Hunting (Obake Hunt) Comedy Modern AU, Naruto & co. visit a college at night for some scares that take an unexpected turn...

A shadowed driveway leads up the mountain toward the private college.

“Is this it?” Sasuke asks, peering out the car window.

“Yeah, turn here,” Ino instructs.

“Okay, but why is the place even open at this time of night,” Sakura states, arms crossed with a skeptical expression as Sasuke drives the minivan through the gates, up the grand driveway. The dorms for the college were built at a separate location down the main thoroughfare.

Ino shrugs. “They have all kinds of events that go on at night. I don’t know.”

“At least we know we’re not trespassing if the school’s open.” Hinata’s soft voice comes over the back seat.

“I still can’t believe we actually talked you into coming with us!” Ino teases.

Sakura laughs, “We’re having a bad influence on her!”

Hinata shakes her head. “Actually, I’m amazed that Naruto-kun is here,” she shyly replies.

Sasuke lets out a quiet laugh. “Doesn’t mean he won’t shit himself if we find a ghost.”

“Okay!, no!, I won’t shit myself, alright?” he immediately defends. “...I might just scream a little, but I won’t poop my pants…” He’s already in a protective stance, arms crossed, back hunched a little.

Everyone laughs at him, but Hinata takes his hand, smiling half-amusedly, half to comfort him. “I’ll protect you, Naruto-kun.”

That only makes everyone laugh harder as Naruto sinks into himself in embarrassment.

Despite Ino’s school being open, the parking lot is somewhat empty save for a few cars. The buildings are magnificent in design, echoing back to an era when arched entryways and stucco were favored over walls of glass. The hum of cicadas pierce through the still, late summer air.

The small group of friends silently follow Ino back toward the driveway of the school with only yellowed street lamps lighting the dark sidewalks. They cross into the street, stopping right in the middle at the fancy traffic meridian. It’s an odd decorative aspect of the driveway they passed on the way up. It’s right in the middle of the street, separating the in and out lanes, somewhat built-up and rounded with a grassy patch and flowering bushes planted high on top. It really only serves to make the school look expensive.

Ino smiles, then whispers, “Put your hand here on the wall.”

“Why?” Sakura asks, also in a whisper.

“Just feel it.”

They do, all of them placing their hands on the wall, waiting for something to happen.

“You see how the plaster is kind of rough over there?” she asks.

They nod, their fingers dragging over the rushed job.

“...This is an ancient burial ground,” Ino explains in a hushed tone.

Their hands spring off of the wall, their fingers wide in stress at what they were just touching.

“Ino, what the fuck?!” Naruto hisses, barely containing his volume, his legs already carrying him away from the meridian and onto the side of the street.

Sakura stares at her hand wide-eyed. “Oh my gosh, we’re all cursed,” she laments. She can practically feel the spiritual energy twisting around her fingers.

Ino snickers. “That’s what my course major senpais did to me.”

Sasuke and Hinata are silently trailing after Naruto with abject horror on their faces. Hinata fists her hand uncomfortably against her skirt.

Once they’re all gathered safely away from the meridian, Ino continues to explain. “When they were constructing, they found the remains of the ancient natives.”

“So they just built that random thing in the middle of the street to house the bones and then continued on their merry way?” Naruto asks for clarification.

Ino nods. “After they found them, they built that wall around the burial ground, and apparently they were in a hurry to cover it back up. They just made the driveway go around it.”

They stand there, staring at the burial ground, picturing the bones just on the other side of the wall they touched, below the grass and bushes.

“Did you have to make us touch it, though,” Hinata asks, regretfully, with a really sad frown.

“The spirits of the ancient warriors are going to find me and kill me in the dead of the night,” Naruto states, as if it’s already fact.

Ino brushes his paranoia off. “We’ll, I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“Note to all of us--don’t do anything Ino tells us to do,” Sasuke says.

Ino gives him a very evil smile. “That’s not all there is to this place.”

“Why...why am I doing this…” Naruto asks to no one in particular.

She leads them deeper into the center of the school, where a large tree spreads its thick limbs over a beautiful cobbled courtyard. A simple fountain beneath the tree spouts water, and pennies shine beneath the surface of the circular pool. The gurgle of the water as it falls is relaxing, serene in the quiet of the night.

“Wow, this is nice,” Sakura says, looking around at the manicured gardens surrounding the courtyard.

Ino nods. “A girl hung herself here.”

They turn their attention to the blonde. Suddenly, the peace of the courtyard feels like an ill omen.

She tilts her head at the large tree. “They say that when this used to be a mental hospital, a girl got away from her caretakers. She was found hanging from this tree.”

They frown at the branches, wondering which one the girl chose.

Ino gestures to steps that lead to an academic building. “They said that at night, you could see her ghost walking and talking to herself in the corridors, always bringing herself to this tree. Someone suggested to the school that they build this fountain here to give rest to her spirit.”

“So no one sees her ghost anymore?” Sakura asks.

Ino shrugs. “I guess we’ll find out…”

“What?” Naruto scrunches a face of distaste.

“Let’s go,” Ino invites.

“Go where…” he whines quietly.

Ino takes the disturbed group down the steps to the building. “Hm, I wonder if it’s open…” She pulls the handle.

The door opens.

“Whyyyy is it open…” Naruto groans.

“But actually, though, why,” Sakura states.

“Maybe the teachers are still here?” Hinata suggests.

Ino laughs. “Psh, what college professor cares that much about their job?” She holds the door open, inviting them into the building. “Welcome to the language arts hall.”

The corridor lights are all on, assuring them that the building is, indeed, open.

They enter the hallway. Naruto lags behind. When the door shuts, he opens it again. “I’m just making sure…” He tests the handle a couple more times before closing it. Then he tests it once more for good measure.

“You satisfied?” Sasuke asks.

“I’m just making sure,” he repeats.

Hinata frowns, imagining the door locking them in while they’re inside the building.

Naruto’s paranoia is only making things worse.

Ino starts ahead of them, and Naruto has to rush to catch up. “Wait for me!”

“SHHHH!!” Sakura scolds, finger to her lips.

They stand there, noticing how her shush seems to echo in the hallway.

“This place is really creepy,” Hinata comments quietly.

Ino shrugs. “Only at night. I had classes in this building in my first year.”

“So this place used to be part of the mental hospital?” Sasuke asks.

“Yeah,” Ino affirms. She brings them to a classroom. “You see how there’s this little window that you can use to look inside?”

They nod, taking turns peeking into one of the dark classrooms. It’s a normal room with normal desks.

“All of the rooms have this hallway window, you see? It was so that the nurses could check on the patients.”

“Oh gods,” Naruto mutters.

-------------------------------------THAT’S IT

College Ballet AU, Naruto sees a different side of his quietly reserved friend.

It wasn’t a trick.

Winter had dragged its sharp claws across the ground as long as it could, but finally, finally, three seasonal false-starts and numerous wilted, early-blooming daffodils later,

Spring had finally decided to stay for good.

Trees bloomed pastel pinks instead of icy white. New hopefuls popped out of the wet dirt, ready to face the sun. Birds were suddenly a real thing again.

Students strolled across the college campus in shorts and light sweaters, eager to shed the winter coats they had worn for six straight months.

And most importantly…

“The forecast is in the high 50s all week!” Ino announced as she pranced into the room, swinging her dance bag to the floor.

“Oh!! Remember last spring we had class outside?” Sakura asked, turning her attention to their ballet instructor.

“Can we have class outside, Kurenai?” Ino pleaded, eyes wide in hope.

“Hm, the weather is nice today. I suppose it is a shame to stay indoors on an afternoon like this,” she considered aloud.

Hinata listened with alarm. She had never danced outside before, never in her 14 years of dancing. Yes, she had danced on stage before, had performed in front of many strangers before, but still... Everyone will see us, she worried.

“I didn’t bring my speakers today, though,” Kurenai continued.

Before Hinata could feel any relief, Tenten pulled out her tech from her bag. “You can bluetooth your phone to mine!”

“Awesome, Tenten!” Sakura exclaimed.

“Oh, please, Kurenai? Can we have class outside?” the other girls begged.

Hinata already knew her fate. She was going to have to wear her body-conforming leotard and tights in front of the entire student body. Nevermind the fact that the last time she had gone barefoot on grass was in elementary school.

They all picked up their belongings and made the quick trip to the center lawn.

As she predicted, many students who were already finished with their classes for the day were enjoying the afternoon weather, laying out in the grass reading or playing frisbee.

And here they were, in their leotards and tights, about to have their whole ballet practice for all to see.

“There’s so many people,” she whispered in embarrassment to Sakura.

The pinkette looked at Hinata in confusion, then sympathy. “Don’t worry. Just relax and enjoy the sunshine! It’s a lot of fun to dance outside. It feels like…” Sakura glanced up in thought. “...Like freedom. Or like...nature!”

Hinata took a deep breath and nodded. She slipped off her sandals and lined up with everyone to begin their barre exercises...without a barre. She spread her toes open to first position and settled her arms and hands into en bas.

Already she could see curious onlookers watching them, and she could only thank the god above that they were having class in a corner of the field, and not front and center.

Kurenai glanced over her dancers, noting their prepared positions. She rattled off the instructions for their plie routine before setting up the speaker and scrolling through her phone’s music menu.

Familiar piano music rose into the air.

More students glanced around.

Hinata tried not to think that all of their eyes were on her. Because she knew, logically, that they weren’t all watching only her, but her heart just hadn’t been prepared for this sudden public display.

Eventually, with the right side completed and the combination repeated on the left side, Hinata began to feel less tense.

The students lazing on the lawn returned to their own devices, and only passersby watched as they headed to their destinations.

She fell into the muscle memory of the exercises, and her focus turned inward on the flow of her arms with the music, of the dart of her toes with the beat, and the alignment of her body.

It was like Sakura said. There was a certain freedom she had never felt before in dancing barefoot in the grass under the Spring sun, turning, leaping, and reaching into the fresh air.

#anon #wips #naruhina fanfiction #witness how quickly i lose interest

59 notes · View notes

sourwolfstories · 4 years

Note

Hey! Do you have long fic recommendations? Can you involve some soulmate fics but AU are welcome too Long like 50k, 100k+ but really ill read anything

Soulmate fics (at least 50K)

When the Universe Comes Knocking (It’s Polite to Open the Door) by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

It was like a door he’d nailed shut in his brain suddenly exploded open, all of his past confusion and anger and hurt and adoration flooding out at once. Stiles? Was it actually Stiles?!

Stiles, the guy he’d had a crush on for fucking years growing up. The guy who’d been an absolute dick to him their whole last year of high school.

The guy who’d told him he loved him in a dirty men’s bathroom on prom night while drunk and upset because he thought Kira was Derek’s girlfriend.

That Stiles? But it couldn’t be!

Marks and Mics by DLanaDHZ

Hale siblings Derek and Laura have been hired to run security for Stiles Stilinski's music tour. Business as usual, except someone is trying really hard to prove they're incapable and hurt Stiles. Derek finds himself curious about Stiles' bitter attitude and a strange illness that plagues the singer. And on top of that, Derek's soulmate remains elusive.

Written Can’t Be Denied by lookslikenico, winglesswarrior

Since time immemorial the story of ‘soulmates’ has persisted. In short, the idea that somewhere out there is your perfect match, the one person who can complete you and with whom you can find total happiness.

The story goes that, the first time you meet your ‘soulmate’, the universe will give you a sign in what should be the most obvious way - somewhere in your immediate vicinity the word ‘soulmate’ will appear. If reports of ‘soulmates’ are to be believed, rather than being written of as hopeful delusions, then this ‘obvious’ signal is anything but, fleeting as it is. The word seemingly only appears for a matter of moments and only when two people first meet. There is no guarantee that they will be looking in the correct direction to see it, nor that they will have any idea who their supposed ‘soulmate’ actually is.

A fact that causes havoc the day that up and coming actor, Stiles Stilinski holds up a bottle emblazoned with the word 'soulmate' in the middle of a press conference where Derek Hale is working as a photographer, in the middle of the worst day of his life...

Connected by readridinghood

After the death of his wife, Stiles finds himself left alone with their three children, struggling to keep from being sucked into a void of grief and despair that her death left him with. Knowing his children are safe in the pack's arms under Derek's watchful eyes, he struggles to regain his footing. What do you do when the world keeps tumbling over you and what you've thought of as fact no longer holds true? As the world comes back into focus, so does the love for Derek he thought he'd long since conquered and now with his eyes open, what he thought was the end of him, is only a new beginning. A decade after he fell in love with Stiles, countless days of keeping himself restrained while building a friendship with him, Derek finds out with absolute certainty that Stiles is his mate. You only mate once in your life, so how is it that Stiles was mated to Sophia, his wife and mother of his three children, the woman he is grieving the loss of at the same moment that Derek makes his discovery.

Three Marks by sanam

"And then there was pain again, but this time it was in only three places—his arm, below his clavicle, and next to his heart, all on the left side. It felt like the skin was being sliced apart, ripped open, flayed off— And suddenly it was done. Derek looked across the room and saw the boy on the floor, looking about as bad as Derek felt."

Derek and Stiles learn that bonding is probably best done with ridiculous amounts of video games and maybe a little bit of time.

Other fics (at least 50K)

Rich Man, Poor Man by TyReed

During a first date gone horribly wrong, Stiles Stilinksi realizes that the snarky guy he's been asked out by is actually Derek Hale, an heir to Hale Industries, one of the most profitable companies in the entire world. Who is, for whatever reason, interested in the son of a teacher and a cop, a loser who spends all weekend watching movies in his pajamas, and who is also possibly one of the biggest dorks on the Internet.

At the same time, after screwing up their first date horribly, Derek Hale realizes that the funny guy he's asked out is Stiles Stilinksi, the warmest and kindest individual he's ever met in his life, with a family just a loving and caring. Who is, for whatever reason, interested in a guy who screws up everything he does, lacks any semblance of a backbone, and who is possibly one of the biggest history dorks in all of the United States.

These rich and poor men will come to experience a taste of each other's lives, and learn where the real blessings in the world can be found.

Feel it like a fever, burning through the night by LunaCanisLupus_22

“That was my favourite fern,” Deaton declares and Stiles glances at Scott for clarification that such a ridiculous statement just came out of his boss’ mouth.

“You could have just told me not to touch it,” Stiles points out sensibly, squirming inside with something he refuses to believe might be guilt.

Not about the dumb plant, but the instant devastation he’s currently overwhelmingly and inescapably capable of. He can destroy with one touch now.

This is going to complicate things so much.

Or the one where Stiles tries to do the noble self-sacrificing thing: gains a new power, a spectral skin colour and basically ruins his own life. 0/10 would not recommend.

It’s (Not) a Cult by lhr111

“Well Stiles, you told me a few weeks ago that you thought Derek was leading a cult.”

At that Derek whipped his head toward Stiles in shock. “You thought I was a cult leader?”

Stiles will not be shamed. “Well, either you or Peter. Peter made more sense, but since he deferred to you that one time I was a little unsure. I mean, what else could I think with all the weird shit going on. You, hanging out with random high school seniors, doing secret things, ordering them around like you are their parent, them actually doing what you tell them. It’s really weird, okay?”

“Are you familiar with Harry Potter?” Derek asks.

Talk about a non sequitur. “What? What does that have to do with anything? And, of course I know Harry Potter!”

“Well to quote Sirius Black, ‘Once again you’ve put your keen and penetrating mind to the task and as usual come to the wrong conclusion.’"

The Sheriff starts snickering, and Stiles is both insulted and also a little in love.

Call Me (Cliché) by SomewheresSword

When the sheriff's sister ends up in a wheelchair for the duration of summer, Stiles' dreams of three months full of pack bonding, late-night video games and bro-time with Scott come crashing down. He's temporarily relocated to Redford, a three hour drive away, and he can already tell he won't be getting many visitors.

Sure the pack will forget about him while he's gone, Stiles is determined to make the most of his summer of isolation, training his body and mind - and his magic - so he can come back with a bang, and maybe catch a certain Sourwolf's eye.

Then Derek shows up at his window one night with a flimsy excuse about needing research done. Suddenly, his summer away is looking a whole lot more interesting.

There’s No Escape for the Potato Man by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

“Who is this? Where’s Erica?”

“Wrong number, asshole!”

“Stop calling me an asshole,” the man on the other end snapped aggressively.

Stiles could understand. He’d be pretty aggressive too if he’d murdered someone and texted a wrong number to ask for help burying the body. This guy obviously failed How To Be a Serial Killer 101.

“What kind of idiot thinks I murdered someone?”

“The kind of idiot who got your text messages, you fucking dumbass!” he retorted hotly. “Maybe double check your contacts before sending a random stranger details on your nefarious plans to dispose of a freshly cut up body!”

“What?!” the guy on the other end demanded, crossed between horrendously confused and livid.

---------------

If you want more soulmate fics you can check that tag here

you can also find more long fics here and here

Happy Reading :)

#answered #anonymous #sterek #sterek fic rec #sterek fanfic #sterek fanfiction #soulmates au

105 notes · View notes

cosmicpines · 3 years

Text

Merry Christmas, and happy @codesecretsanta! I’ve lurked for enough years and finally found the courage to participate.

This is for @cidnets. They asked for something with the whole gang, so I wrote about some early gang friendship as they try and figure out how to navigate their new friend group.

Enjoy! :)

Jeremie Belpois didn’t have any friends before an evil AI possessed a vending machine and nearly electrocuted him to death a month ago, and he sure wished he remembered how that fact changed.

As far as he could remember, he went to get a drink from that vending machine, the same he did whenever he was feeling particularly down and decided to “treat” himself (quality of the hot chocolate questionable as it was), when suddenly there were three people talking to him like they knew each other, dragging him away to his room to tell him about an adventure he could barely believe happened. It took until he saw files on the supercomputer that weren’t there the day before, images of these apparent friends of his side by side with Aelita, to believe they weren’t all pulling an elaborate prank on him.

That gap in his memory itched at him in moments like these, when, between the mission shot calls and terror-filled calls to the person on the scene (Ulrich, this time, helping evacuate students from a water system that was flooding the school), there was the dreaded mission banter.

“Woah, Jeremie, I think we see why there’s a number mismatch,” Yumi’s voice reverberated through his headset, as the three dots on his map that indicated his friends (the word still felt wrong) rounded a bend to what looked like on his screen to be one Blok, but that the sensors identified as 7.

Odd laughed. “Oh man! Einstein, it’s like a Jenga tower!”

Yumi’s snicker came in response, confirming that this was a joke he wasn’t getting and Odd just not being dumb.

“Sorry?” Jeremie said, pulling up a visual on his screen, seeing all 7 Bloks stacked on top of each other, Yumi’s fan barely missing the bottom one, “It’s like a what now?”

“Jenga! You know, Jenga?” Odd repeated in what many may consider the least helpful clarification possible.

“Is that… a movie?”

“No! What? How have you never played Jenga, Einstein? Haven’t you been to a game night or anything?”

Jeremie bit his tongue, weighing responses, the gap in his memory weighing on him. He often wondered, in times like this, where he failed to get jokes and carry on banter, what the hell the Jeremie of that timeline had done to trick the three of them (four, if you counted Aelita, who was a different mystery in of itself) into thinking they liked him in the first place. He wondered what that Jeremie would say in response to this, what he would do to make all of them laugh and like him.

“I have more important things to do than play whatever Jenga is. Like babysitting a supercomputer.”

“Well, we have to fix that! Yumi, do you have a copy?”

Of course, logically, he knew that the “other Jeremie” was really just him; that “he” would be struggling with this just as much.

"A copy of Jenga?” Yumi grunted as a laser hit her, (30 lifepoints left, should he say something? Should he wait for her to finish talking? What’s the protocol here?) “Maybe? My dad doesn’t have the patience for that kind of game. Luckily…” She tossed a fan with a cry, destroying one of the bloks on the bottom of the stack, sending the rest tumbling down. “I don’t either.”

“Oh, great job, Yumi!” Aelita’s grin was obvious, even though just her voice. She started making her way to the tower as Jeremie still tried to come up with something to say, thoughts spiraling as Odd and Yumi kept talking and he kept saying nothing, sitting there with nothing. There was a part of him that wondered if he was just a convenient means to an end to them. Someone to press the buttons and let them play superhero and talk to their much cooler digital friend.

“How about your room, Einstein? That way, Aelita can join us too!”

Crap. That was directed at him.

“My room? For what?”

“Earth to Einstein!” He cringed at Odd’s sudden increase in volume, “Game night! We’re going to teach you Jenga and every other game you’ve missed out on!”

He blinked, mind going blank again, for very different reasons. His fingers froze momentarily over the keys, before the defensiveness he had built up over the years fell out of his mouth. “Sure, Odd. As long as you don’t make another mess like last time.”

“Hey! That wasn’t my fault!”

“Uh huh,” he said, as the supercomputer pinged in response to the tower being deactivated. He started typing, hesitated, then reached in his bag for where he kept his notes. Almost had the return procedure memorized, but there was that step he always forgot. He’d hoped that he’d get Aelita to Earth before he’d need to memorize it, but materialization was harder than he thought.

As he typed, his mind conjured images of a game night – of friends on his floor, of laughter and fun. Maybe it was possible. Or maybe he was getting his hopes up again. Maybe Odd just wanted to use his room for a game night so they could hang out with Aelita; nothing to do with him.

(Of course, why, then, would it be at his lack of knowledge about Jenga to prompt it?)

(…this was hard.)

“Return to the past now.”

Odd Della Robbia wasn’t going to let this friend group fail.

Despite coming to Kadic in the middle of the semester (it wasn’t his fault his geometry teacher flunked him out of his last school, yeesh), he hadn’t been particularly worried about making new friends. People were naturally drawn to his charms; always had been, always would be. What could he say? He was great! I mean, sure, a lot of those old friends didn’t answer his calls after he had been kicked out of school and, yeah, one argument broke a lot of those friendships, but that didn’t matter. He had never been lonely before, and Kadic was going to be no different. And one day here had proven him right!

But these friends… they were different. Normally, Odd found himself with people who were similar to him – loud, excited, larger than life, up for anything – but his first day shoved him elsewhere. (Not that anyone would call his first day not loud, exciting, and larger than life). And maybe that wouldn’t have been a problem, except these friends didn’t seem to know how to be friends. Like, Jeremie looked surprised every time he and Ulrich sat next to him for dinner (at what was he was determined to become their table). It took Yumi at least a week to start hanging with them around campus after classes instead of going home. And his roommate… well, he was just a piece of work.

But there was something about these guys that was special. He was determined to make these friends a group anyone would envy. And the first thing to do to make that happen was easy: snacks and games.

“I still don’t get why you’re so insistent on this,” Ulrich said as they walked back to Kadic from town late that Friday night, arms laden with the most unhealthy things they could afford on a student’s budget.

“Oh, come on, Ulrich! Aelita and Jeremie both have never been to one! It’s our duty as their friends to enrich them.”

Ulrich rolled his eyes, shifting the bags in his arms. “Oh yeah, the joyous splendor of game nights is just what Jeremie needs to get out of his shell.”

“Well, why not? Besides, Yumi said she’s sneaking back on campus to join us, too. It’ll be great!”

“If you say so,” Ulrich shrugged, “I don’t get the feeling that he’s too jazzed you invited yourself into his room all night.”

Odd brushed him off. “It’ll be fine Ulrich, trust me.”

He only grunted in response, clearly not convinced. Odd frowned, clicking his tongue. “Aren’t you excited, Ulrich?”

“No.”

“What? Not even a little?”

“I’m excited to destroy this bag of Doritos and then go back into my room to read a book.”

“Boring!”

Ulrich grunted again, and silence fell on the two roommates as they entered the building. Odd just didn’t get this guy. What could convince him to just have a little fun with his friends?

“Not even with Yumi there?”

It was a hunch he had for at least a week, and possibly a low blow to bring it up like this, but Ulrich’s reaction made it all worth it: he almost dropped his bag, his face turned red, and he pointedly stared at the opposite wall, as if doing so would mean Odd couldn’t see him. Bingo.

Ulrich cleared his throat after a moment. “I don’t know why that would make a difference.”

“Don’t you?”

“I don’t, so knock it off.”

“Knock what –,”

“Odd.” He growled, as they climbed the stairs to the boy’s floor, “Knock it off.”

“Okay, okay!” Odd grinned, “But I’m just saying, I’m happy to see someone melt that icy heart of yours. If you ever want any pointers on how to woo her, I’d be more than happy to –,”

“Alright, that’s it.” Ulrich muttered, turning around and heading back towards their room.

Odd felt his stomach drop as his roommate retreated. “Hey – hey Ulrich! Oh, come on! Don’t be upset, it was just a joke!” He grabbed his shoulder, and Ulrich turned around and looked at him.

Odd was used to friendships falling apart, was used to rejection and anger. Hell, even though he had only come to Kadic a month ago, he had already gotten slapped by a girl who was mad at him for brushing off their study date (his own fault, he knew, but he had just gotten a new game for his Gameboy Advance and completely forgot! Why couldn’t she understand that?!). So he knew what to expect from Ulrich here – he just hoped it wouldn’t be a friendship-ending argument.

But what he saw in Ulrich’s face wasn’t the pure anger he had grown toe expect; it was hurt. Ulrich was glaring at him, but his eyes were red, and he was blinking rapidly – staving off tears, Odd realized with a jolt.

“Ulrich, I…”

What could he say? What had he done wrong? Odd was just teasing him! It wasn’t anything for him to get so upset about! His stomach was churning as he looked at his roommate, desperate to think of what to say to brush this all off, get him back into Jeremie’s room for game night, and get him back in his good books.

Only… was Odd even in Ulrich’s good books? Was this friendship based on nothing but a housing mistake to drop Odd into Ulrich’s room and a supercomputer to drop them in the same double life? If they didn’t have that, would they even consider each other friends? Odd didn’t know. He bit his tongue as words failed to come to his mouth, and Ulrich turned away. And that possibly would have been the end of the night entirely, if it wasn’t for the muffled yelling that suddenly came from Jeremie’s room.

Newly forged instinct sprung to life in Odd, and he dashed down the hall to where Einstein must have been in danger – a possessed heating system! Flashes of lights that blind you! – Ulrich was at his side, too, and Odd felt something between dread and relief. Odd reached for the doorknob, when –

“I just don’t know what I’m doing, Aelita! I should be happy they’re hanging out with me, but –,”

Odd’s eyes widened, another pit forming in his stomach. He pressed his ear to the door, and barely caught Aelita’s reply.

“…something that usually stresses people out?”

“No! No, it’s just me being stupid and awful at this!”

“Awful at what?”

“Friends! Aelita, I haven’t had friends before this! And I’m trying so hard to make it work with these but I don’t – I don’t know if they really like me at all. I seriously…”

Oh, this was a conversation they really shouldn’t be listening into.

Odd nudged Ulrich, who was staring at the door in a sort of blind panic, pushing him back down the hallway.

“What are you – “

“Shh!”

Odd’s mind was racing at Jeremie’s words. How would they not like him? He glanced back at Ulrich, who was staring at Jeremie’s door, but whose eyes drifted down to his. Ulrich’s eyes softened a bit, and he nodded, heading back towards their room. Odd’s heart sank, until he saw Ulrich picking up the bags of groceries.

Odd grinned, then raised his voice, “Oh man, Ulrich! I cannot believe how late we are!”

Ulrich stared back at him for a second, and then a hint of a smile formed on his lips. “Oh, Odd, I know, I know! But it was your fault for having to go back for Pringles.”

“What can I say? I have great taste! Besides, I know the plain ones are Jeremie’s favorite!”

“Uh – yeah! We… sure want to make sure we have that!”

Odd knocked on Jeremie’s door, loudly. “Jeremie! We’re here!”

His heart pounded as he heard a shuffling inside, and then, blessedly, the door opened. Jeremie stared at them for a second, something like distracted concern in his eyes, and then he gestured in, to where Odd saw he had put some blankets on the floor and cleared space off his normally disastrous desk. Aelita waved from the computer screen.

“Make yourself at home.” Jeremie said, shutting the door behind them.

“Will do, Einstein!” Odd breathed a sigh of relief as he unloaded his snacks onto the desk.

It was rough going. But he was going to make it work.

Aelita was finding humans more and more confusing as each day passed.

Not ten minutes ago, Jeremie was telling her how much he was scared of this game night happening. He had even started yelling, which was something she’d only seen the boy do once before, when he was sharing how scared he was about their fight agains XANA.

It was something that had sat with her since they had made that promise the day they had met – they were all doing this for her, and it wasn’t getting any safer. They swore that, one day, she would be sitting in this room with them, instead of sitting in a quiet, empty tower, looking through a window into a world she found as strange as they found hers.

Yumi had arrived five minutes ago, arms laden with games. “I stole these out of our house,” she had said, dropping them onto the bed and sitting down, “Sorry we don’t have a huge selection. Luckily, we did have Jenga afterall.”

Odd had jumped up and wrapped his arms around her – a hug, Aelita remembered, from one of the movies she and Jeremie had watched – and Yumi had looked confused as he retreated, then had helped him begin setting up the game.

Jenga, it turned out, was a rather simple game: stack the blocks in a tower, take out the pieces and place them on top, and try and keep it from falling over. She watched her friends take their moves in turn, and was fascinated by the dynamic in the room. Aelita had never seen them all interacting in a context outside of battle, and the lack of harmony was unexpected.

Yumi made her moves quickly and decisively, never hesitating for more than a second once her turn came around. She had knocked it over more than once like this, but didn’t seem to mind too much, and was quick to set it up again to keep going. She made loud noises after every round, and often poked fun at the others for their moves, which Jeremie and Ulrich didn’t seem to like. Yumi stopped this, after a while, but still tried to get everyone to speak with her.

Jeremie, meanwhile, was slow, eyes sweeping over the whole tower before choosing his move. When Yumi asked him what was taking so long, Jeremie had looked confused, before saying, “I’m evaluating my options!” That seemed logical to Aelita, but Odd and Yumi both laughed, like Jeremie had made a joke – or, as Jeremie had confided in her once, they were mocking him for saying the wrong thing. The way they continued smiling at him, though, didn’t indicate that.

If being slow was something to laugh at, though, she wondered why Odd didn’t do the same with Ulrich, who took equally long turns in silence. Unlike Jeremie, who looked around the tower contemplatively, Ulrich kept bringing his hand to the tower, then pulling it back, over and over again, until he finally picked a move and performed it just as slowly. When the tower didn’t fall, he would breathe a sigh of relief. When it did, he would look furious with himself.

Odd couldn’t be more different than Ulrich, as, once he chose which to take – he pressed his finger against a few before choosing, he yanked it out deftly. The first time he had done this, Ulrich had muttered something about cheating, but Odd had shot back that Ulrich should read the rules sometime. Then, after placing the block back on top, he had smiled at his friend, but when Ulrich didn’t reciprocate, Odd’s smile slipped away.

That wasn’t ordinary, Aelita had thought at the time, and, after Ulrich toppled the tower one more time and yelled out in anger and Yumi suggested moving onto another game, she could see that strange emotion again in Odd’s face – hesitation and fear. It was something she saw on Jeremie often, but never on Odd. She would have to remember to ask Jeremie about it afterwards.

“How about Monopoly?” Yumi asked, holding up another box.

Odd groaned. “That game takes forever and I’m horrible at it.”

“Okay,” Yumi responded, putting it back down. “Sorry?”

“Sorry for what?”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

Jeremie and Ulrich were both sitting silently on the ground as Odd and Yumi debated which game was next. Ulrich was cross legged, staring at his napkin covered in snacks – Doritos, Cheetos, and Pringles, Aelita remembered, from squinting at the packaging to her right and looking it up online. She read how the flavors differed and tried to imagine it herself; that was very hard, considering she didn’t even have taste buds. Her gaze drifted over to Jeremie, and she was momentarily startled, seeing him looking at her. Aelita smiled at him, and he smiled back. She glanced over at Odd and Yumi bickering over games, and then back at him, silently asking why he didn’t help. He glanced at his friends and shrugged, going back to picking at his snacks.

This wasn’t the way Jeremie had explained a game night to her. This wasn’t the “fun” that she had expected to see.If she was there, she would drag him over to the board games and help him pick one. She would be the one to ask him, quietly, in case it was something that embarrassed him for some reason, which games he liked, and which he didn’t. She would laugh at Odd’s jokes and make some herself. She would try the snacks and have favorites and ones she hated. She would be able to have her own strategy for playing Jenga, and she would knock that tower down and learn to do it better.

But she couldn’t. She was here, in an entirely different world, barely able to interact with them at all. Her voice didn’t come from her mouth, but from tinny speakers that echoed through the room; a quiet conversation wasn’t possible when she was being broadcasted to everyone. She watched as Jeremie quietly got another drink for Ulrich and Ulrich smiled back at him; somethings she couldn’t be part of. All she could do was loudly proclaim “hello! I’m here too!” before she was forgotten again in the excitement of another game she couldn’t touch, couldn’t join in, couldn’t be there for.

And at what cost, would it be, to bring her there? What danger to the world must be done to let her join them, to let her touch the objects that Yumi was handing out?

“You know the rules for Uno, right?”

No! She didn’t! She had no idea what Uno was, or why it was played, or what some of them were finding fun and what some of them were stressed about! She had no idea how or why humans did this – Jeremie said nebulously “it was fun,” but Ulrich looked miserable, Odd looked scared, Yumi looked distant – she wanted, wanted, wanted to be there, wanted to be part of it… But how much was she worth? How much did they have to do for her?

So she sat silently and watched, only the briefest eye contact with Jeremie reminding her that they knew she was there at all.

Yumi Ishiyama didn’t think this game night was working.

She was leaning against Jeremie’s desk, getting herself another Coke, and watching as the boys played for second place in an Uno match after she had gotten out. Odd laughed as Ulrich played a draw two card on Jeremie, whose hand was already at least a quarter of the deck, but shut up as Jeremie dropped three more on top.

“Draw eight, Odd.”

A faint grin was on Jeremie’s face as Odd scowled. “I never should have let you guys convince me to use stacking rules!”

“You were the one who suggested it,” Ulrich muttered, sorting his own hand.

Yumi smiled, sipping her drink, thankful for a moment of unity in the room. The boys had been awkward all night; Jenga was a nightmare that she was glad was over. It wasn’t like she was doing much better – her competitive instincts from playing with her family didn’t work well with Jeremie, who didn’t know the rules, or with Ulrich, who was in what she was quickly finding to be a usual bad mood. Odd didn’t seem to mind, but she always had a hard time understanding Odd at all; his easy grins and fast jokes couldn’t always be genuine, could they? How could someone be that happy all the time?

But Odd was grating on the other two just as much as she was; his jokes falling on just her laughter, becoming more and more tired as the other two didn’t respond. It was a nightmare, trying to carry the conversation like this, and it was clearer now that she had stepped out of the game. Ulrich and Jeremie just played the game, an ocasssional single quip, and Odd tried his best to fill the room with chatter that fell on deaf ears, his persistant smile fixed and tired. This whole thing was a mistake. None of them were having a good time, and none of them wanted to be there.

What is wrong with us? Yumi thought, unconsciously crushing her now empty cup in her hand. Why couldn’t they just have fun, the way friends were supposed to? Yumi hadn’t had any friends before she and Ulrich were attacked by that electricity ball and her life got flipped upside down, and now she wasn’t even sure if she was doing it right. There were times that they got it, that they laughed and hung out, but there were times like this, too, where everything was just off.

She sighed, turning to throw out her cup, thinking about making an excuse about wanting to get home before Jim noticed her, when she suddenly remembered that they weren’t the only ones in the room. Aelita’s face was on the screen, watching the boys play Uno. She suddenly felt bad about not speaking to her most of the night.

“Hey Aelita, how are you doing?”

Aelita turned to her, smiling brightly. “Oh, just fine, Yumi. Humanity has created so many interesting ways to keep itself occupied in its leisure, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Yumi’s heart melted with Aelita’s enthusiasm for something so simple, “Are you understanding the rules?”

“Oh yes, I have the Google to thank for that.” Aelita motioned to something in front of her that Yumi couldn’t see. A smile twitched at the corners of Yumi’s mouth at Aelita’s awkward phrasing. She found herself briefly forgetting her desire to book it out of there as Aelita continued. “I’m learning a lot! Not just on the games, but on ‘fun’ too.”

“On fun? What do you mean by that?”

“I didn’t really understand quite how it worked before now; I don’t have a lot of time for ‘fun’ on Lyoko. It’s not like I can go play Uno or Jenga with XANA.” She looked wistful for a moment, then smiled again. “But I can see the way that you guys are doing it, and it’s very interesting. It seems like ‘fun’ is something you have to learn to do as much as ‘work’ is.”

“Huh? What does that mean?”

“Well,” Aelita hesitated for a moment, “I found that whenever I need to learn something new, it takes me a bit to get it right, you know? And you guys are doing that with this – you were yelling before, but not now. Odd stopped bothering Ulrich. Jeremie is speaking more and more.”

Yumi was crushing her cup again, and noticed the lack of the sound of cards in the room meant the others had stopped playing Uno and were listening in on the conversation.

“From what Jeremie tells me,” Aelita continued, “Between your schoolwork and fighting XANA, you don’t get a lot of chances to do ‘fun.’ I’m glad you found a way to do it today, and that you’re all practicing it together.”

Practicing having fun.

It was a very strange way to put it, Yumi thought, her eyes sweeping over the room, as they all shared glances with each other, but not something entirely wrong. How many times did she see any of them with people who weren’t each other?

Yumi looked back at their digital friend, whose animated face was impassive, then grew more confused as she didn’t respond. She stole another glance at the rest of the room and felt her insides unclench. Her face twitched, and laughter started spilling out of her mouth.

None of them knew what they were doing. None of them – not a single one of them – knew how to do this right. This was ridiculous; they were all so stressed about playing Uno.

Maybe they did need the practice at being friends.

Her laughter subsided after a moment, and, although it wasn’t the cathartic group laugh that she was hoping for, the atmosphere in the room felt lighter than it had a moment ago. Yumi tossed her now destroyed cup the trash, reinvigorated to figure out how to salvage a night for them. All of them.

“Hey, Aelita. Why don’t you join us, this round?”

“Huh? I can’t –”

“No, you totally can,” Yumi grinned at her, “We can find a way to hold some cards up for you, and we can just play them for you.”

“Yeah!” Odd perked up as he shuffled everyone’s cards back into the deck, “That’s a great idea, Yumi! I can help her!”

And they did. Everyone seemed to be trying a little harder at keeping the mood going. It was sloppy. They still stumbled over words, still had awkward moments between rounds. But the silence was shrinking. Yumi’s competitive shouts were responded to – hesitantly at first, then more excitedly. More people laughed at Odd’s jokes, and Jeremie even made some himself.

“Can you put down my fourth card?” Aelita asked, smiling innocently.

“Sure I – SKIP? SKIP?! YOU’RE SKIPPING ME?” Odd gasped, his hand filled with cards.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you not want me to try and win?”

They laughed – all of them, finally. She wasn’t sure what had flipped the switch in the room; maybe they all came to the same conclusion she did, maybe they all just wanted to try and prove to Aelita that they did know what they were doing. Either way, the games of Uno pressed on into the night.

“Draw two, Yumi.” Odd dropped a card, grinning.

“So sorry, but I think that Ulrich will be drawing four.”

“Tough, Aelita’s drawing six.”

“If you play my third card, you will find it’s Jeremie drawing ten.”

“…Okay, I officially withdraw my support of stacking rules.”

“What, just because you’re losing?” Yumi teased him, and Jeremie – miracle of miracles – actually stuck his tongue out at her and grinned as he drew his cards.

Maybe they would figure this out, eventually.

Ulrich Stern was exhausted.

He didn’t really know what he was signing up for when he agreed to go to the game night, but whatever that was certainly wasn’t it. It had started out as horribly as he expected, but then Yumi somehow completely turned it around. Hell, the three hour-long rounds of Uno (stacking rules were a mistake, it turned out) they played with Aelita were actually, dare he say it, fun, and he left the room around two feeling a lot less crummy than he had when he walked in. He even agreed to Jeremie’s suggestion that they do it again next week, returning the exhausted smile Jeremie offered him.

“I’m going to sneak home,” Yumi said, as they headed down the hallway. “I’m not sure who I’m more scared about finding me; Jim or my parents.”

“Do you want me to scout ahead?” Ulrich asked immediately, hoping he didn’t sound too eager, “I’d get in a lot less trouble with Jim than you would.”

“Yeah, that would be great! Thanks.”

Her smile made his insides melt, and Ulrich scampered away before Odd could make fun of him for it again. It wasn’t his fault that Yumi made him happy. The whole night she was fighting to make sure they were all having a good time, and it was so nice to feel like someone cared about him. It was just a pain that he was so bad at letting her, or any of the others, know that.

A dash down the hall, a surreptitious glance right and left, down the stairs, and it was all clear. He waved Yumi over, and she was at his side faster than he expected.

“Thanks,” She grinned at him, punching him on the arm. “See you on Monday?”

“Unless XANA calls over the weekend.”

“Ugh, I sure hope not. You guys can sleep in; I have to pretend I went to bed early tonight.”

He snickered. “Goodnight, Yumi.”

“Goodnight, Ulrich.”

She disappeared down the stairs and he watched, a tired smile lingering on his face. He let himself stay for a moment longer, relishing the solitude. People were exhausting. And he still had to face one of them, even though the main activities for the night were over. He dreaded going back. He didn’t want to hear a barrage of mockery for being all too eager to help Yumi out, or more insisting that he “lose the grumpy act.” Nothing he’d ever said before had convinced Odd to shut up, and he was starting to think this was just going to be a constant part of his life.

A yawn overtook him, and he figured that needing to sleep would be a good way of getting Odd off his back as quickly as possible. He headed back to his room and went inside. Odd was there, of course, already changed into his pajamas, a finger to his lips as Ulrich shut the door behind him. “Kiwi’s asleep,” Odd whispered, pointing to the drawer that his dog slept in.

Ulrich nodded, thankful. An even better excuse; one Odd would adhere to since it was his own pet. He excused himself to the bathroom to get ready for bed, smiled at a text from Yumi that told him she got back safe, and returned to the room, a sinking feeling in his gut when he saw Odd was still awake.

“Night.” Ulrich muttered, trying to make it clear that no, shut up, not tonight, getting in bed as quickly as he could.

“Goodnight.” Odd replied, his voice smaller than usual.

Ulrich frowned, staring at the wall in front of him. Not even a single joke? Well. Better for him. He closed his eyes.

“Hey… Ulrich?”

He opened his eyes.

Maybe if he didn’t say anything, Odd’d think he was already asleep.

“Ulrich, are you awake?”

No. He thought, as if that would work.

“I’m going to assume you are and you’re just being a grumpy butt again.”

He hated his life.

“Listen, Ulrich I… I’m sorry about earlier. I don’t know really what – I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. And I’m sorry if that screwed up game night and… I dunno. You’re all my friends, and we should try and do these things! It was fun, after a while, right?”

Odd trailed off, and Ulrich stared at the wall in front of him as if it magically had all the answers to the asked and unasked questions Odd posed, the ones that haunted Ulrich. He had a million things on his mind, a million responses to make, a million confused feelings clenched in his gut.

“And I guess I – I feel like I’m doing something wrong with you, Ulrich. I want to be friends, and I – I dunno. I’m sorry.”

“…I didn’t think sorry was in your vocabulary, Odd.”

“Rude.” Odd shot back, but without any venom. “Friends?”

He let the question sit for a moment, and Ulrich smiled, thinking of the laughter they all shared as Aelita destroyed them for the third time in a row.

“Yeah. Yeah, we are.”

#code lyoko #mary blabs #code secret santa #wowee look a fanfic i havent attached one of those to this tumblr in years

21 notes · View notes

flipomatic · 3 years

Text

Internship Chapter 15: Day 10 - Amity

First Chapter Previous Chapter

______________________________________________________

When Amity met with Luz the day before, she told her all about the tour she went on of the jail. Luz was sad she didn’t get to go, but she had used their time apart wisely.

Luz had spent the time talking to some of her other friends from Hexside, a couple of whom were upperclassmen like Ed and Em. One of them, Viney, was in the beast keeping and the healing tracks. Right now, she was interning with the Beast Keeping Coven, but her beasts still lived at the school. She came by every morning and afternoon to take care of them.

Luz explained that she had thought of Viney immediately, but had a tough time tracking her down. She had to ask a teacher about her placement, then had gone to the coven only to find out Viney went back to the school, before finally locating her to talk. Luz asked her if she would meet with them to discuss the coven, and Viney said yes.

She agreed to meet Wednesday afternoon, which was today.

Amity had prepared a small list of questions to ask, pretty generic things about how the coven ran and what kinds of beasts were commonly raised. She had seen many beasts before, without every raising any herself. She thought they were cool, but she didn’t have a knack for the spells.

When she stowed her books in her locker after school, Amity made sure she had her list of questions before heading to the back exit. She had agreed to meet Luz behind the school, so they could walk to the beast keeping building together.

Due to the nature of beasts and the difficulty in containing them, the beasts were kept in a whole different building behind the school. Many lived there overnight as well, if the student didn’t have a proper space for them at home. This was especially needed for the larger creatures.

Luz was already waiting for Amity outside when she arrived. Amity apologized for making her wait, but always sweet Luz insisted she had just arrived.

“I’ve never been in the beast house.” Luz had a spring to each step as they walked towards the building.

Amity hadn’t expected that. “Aren’t you taking beast keeping classes?” She thought seeing the beasts would be part of the track.

“Yeah, but I don’t have a glyph for controlling beasts.” Luz spun around as she walked, holding up one finger towards Amity. “At least not yet.” She turned away to face forward, swinging her arms by her sides. “So my classes are all in the school.”

“Maybe you’ll learn one today.” Amity suggested with a smile.

Again Luz turned to her, brown eyes sparkling with excitement. “That would be amazing!” She fished her small notepad out of her pocket. “I’m beyond ready for a new spell.”

Luz looked so determined, so cute, for a moment Amity’s cheeks felt hot looking at her.

She snapped out of it when Luz asked if she was okay, shaking her head and insisting that yes, she was fine.

At that point they were almost to the beast keeping building, which was just past the grudgby ring. Luz pointed at it as soon as she saw it, walking faster to get there sooner. Her excitement was contagious, causing Amity to follow right along with her.

The beast keeping building was two stories tall and about the size of a barn. It was made of bricks and seemed to be reinforced with some kind of magic, though Amity couldn’t tell exactly what it did. It had two sets of doors both different sizes. The first was a witch sized door with a handle. The second was a large set of doors that went almost to the roof and were about 10 feet wide in total. These were likely for bringing beasts in and out of the building.

The two approached the witch sized door, with Luz pulling it open to enter. Amity followed closely behind and was immediately struck by the stench when she entered. The smell of beasts was overpowering, like a wall of stink. Luz seemed unbothered by it, her eyes gleaming as she looked around the inside.

Inside the building was mainly an open space with short walls that functioned as beast pens. A few students were inside, tending to their beasts.

Luz pointed out Viney, who was sitting in one of the middle pens with a griffin. Amity remembered seeing the griffin before, on Luz’s very first day at Hexside. Viney had been one of the witches to bring down the basilisk that day, after it sucked away the magic power of many students.

“Hey Viney!” Luz called out as they approached. The griffin turned its head to stare at them, which honestly was unsettling. Did it understand what they were saying? Amity had no idea.

“Hi Luz!” Viney stood from her stool to greet them. “You’re Amity, right?” She asked, green eyes shifting to Amity.

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you.” Amity replied, taking note of the fishhook earring and torn uniform. Her sleeves and pants, which Amity had expected to be two different colors, were all orange.

“Likewise.” Viney nodded, then turned back to Luz. “So, welcome to the beast house.” She gestured around the room, drawing the eyes of a couple other beast keeping students. “This is pretty much all there is to see.” She put one hand back on her griffin as she spoke, petting it gently.

“It’s so cool in here.” Luz put her hands against the edge of the pen, leaning over and slightly inside it. “Hi Puddles.” She reached in and pet the side of the griffin’s neck. It seemed to lean into her touch. “What other beasts do you raise?” Oh, that had been one of Amity’s questions.

“Let me show you.” Viney opened the small door to the pen, stepping out. She then walked to a nearby pen, signaling for Luz and Amity to follow. When Amity reached the pen, she looked inside. There were a few small furry creatures, with tiny paws and stubby tails, that were small enough that Viney was able to pick one up with one hand. A larger one was inside as well, asleep at the back wall of the pen. Luz gasped loudly when she saw them.

“These dog beasts are only a few weeks old.” Viney said as she carefully handled the small beast. It wiggled its little paws, head darting around to look at the people around it. When Luz started to reach towards it, Viney shook her head. “They’re teething.” She explained, moving to return the pup to the pen.

“Darn.” Luz pouted, then went back to looking in the pen. “But they’re so cute and tiny.” She cooed down at the beasts.

“When they’re grown, they’ll be trackers.” The beast dog tried to nip Viney’s fingers as she put it down, but she pulled her hand away before it could.

“Trackers?” Amity asked for clarification.

Viney brushed a few pieces of fur off her sleeves as she answered the question. “Things like tracking down lost items, locating witches, and helping the Emperor’s Coven. Beast dogs are great at that.”

“Ooh.” Luz was still enraptured with the creatures. “I love them.” She looked right at Amity when she declared this, causing Amity’s heart to skip a beat despite the word being said about the beasts and not her.

Amity cleared her throat to try and maintain composure. “What other jobs does the Beast Keeping Coven do?” She asked another question from her list.

“All sorts!” Viney responded enthusiastically. “Things like mail delivery and training beasts for combat are really common.”

“I can’t wait to try it. Someday, my new friends.” Luz finally stepped back from the pen, after waving goodbye to the beast dogs. The group started to move back towards the griffin, which had been watching them. Perhaps Amity imagined the gleam of jealousy in its eyes.

“What’ve you been doing at the internship?” Amity asked as they stopped next to it; she knew how Ed and Em’s were going, but was still curious about how other covens were handling it.

Viney smiled at the question, which was a sign that her experience was better than the twin’s so far. “We’ve been shadowing a mail witch.” She gestured to the griffin, which chirped once in a sort of response. “It’s been a lot of fun.”

“Did you show them Puddles’ healing trick?” Luz asked excitedly, though Amity didn’t know what she was talking about.

At this, Viney shook her head. “Principal Bump told me not to.” She reached over to pet Puddles, running her hand through its feathers.

“What, why not?” Luz crossed her arms, eyebrows furrowed together. One of the things Amity admired about her was how she worried about her friends, how she came to their defense.

“He never got approval for us multi track students.” Viney scoffed and frowned. “So I’m not supposed to tell anyone in the coven. He even changed my colors!” She lifted one arm, showing off the orange sleeve of her uniform.

Luz grimaced, an unusual look for her. “That’s awful.”

“It’s the way coven magic works.” Amity added, drawing both sets of eyes to her. “If she joins the Beast Keeping Coven, she’ll lose access to healing magic.”

“That’s true.” Viney sighed, leaning against the pen. “That’s why I’m not sure about joining. Healing magic is a part of me, just like beast keeping. I can’t imagine giving either up.” Behind her, Puddles cooed softly and nuzzled its beak into her arm. “And being covenless isn’t a viable option.”

A couple weeks before, before Eda was almost frozen into a statue, Amity knew that Luz would’ve immediately chimed in that being covenless was a great option. But now, after everything that happened, she wouldn’t say that.

“You’ll find a way.” Luz still managed to exceed Amity’s expectations as she moved to lean next to the upperclassman. “I know it.” She gently bumped Viney’s arm with her elbow.

Viney nodded, with a half smile. “Yeah, I’m sure I will.”

Over in the other pen, the sound of little barks could be heard. The beast dogs seemed to want something.

“Almost time for dinner.” Viney stood upright, brushing off the back of her pants. “Between you and me, they eat a lot.” She chuckled, likely in an attempt to bring the mood of the conversation up.

It worked; Luz laughed in response. “Can we watch them eat?” She asked, with her hands pressed together as if praying for a yes.

“Of course. I’ll be right back with their food.” Viney said, walking away to follow through on that. She came back a minute later with a couple large bowls in her hands, all full of a wet goo like substance. She took it over to the beast dog pen, with Amity and Luz following close behind.

When Viney leaned over to place the bowls inside she almost got nipped again, but was able to place them successfully. The small beasts rushed the bowls, climbing over each other for a chance to eat. Once they settled around them, there was a spot for each one.

Amity watched in wonder as she creatures ate through the provided food, not even noticing when Viney went to get another bowl for the fully grown dog beast. Next to her, Luz was doing the same. She started pointing at each dog beast and giving them names while they ate.

When the last bit of food was gone, the beasts abandoned the bowls. They gathered together in a pile, lying down for an after dinner nap.

“Time to get going?” Amity asked Luz, who seemed to be in pain trying to tear herself away from the dog beasts.

Luz thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah.” She turned to Viney. “We’re gonna head out, thank you sooo much for showing us around!”

“Thanks for visiting.” Viney replied amiably. She waved goodbye as they walked away, headed to the beast building exit.

When they got outside, Amity fully appreciated how nice fresh air truly was. It would take a long time to get the beast smell out of her memory.

“I need to learn that beast glyph.” Luz said as they walked away from the building, hitting the bottom of her right fist into her palm.

Amity didn’t feel quite so eager to dive right into beast keeping magic. Yes, the beast dogs had been cute, but controlling and training them was a whole different story.

For now, she was going to keep looking. There were plenty more covens still to visit.

Next Chapter

#the owl house #the owl house fanfiction #lumity #amity blight #luz noceda #we got some more lumity in this one #just a hint

7 notes · View notes

acecademia · 3 years

Note

Do you have any theories for why some people who have ADHD do better with online asynchronous classes, some do better with online synchronous classes, some do better with in person classes, and some do better with hybrid classes (a mix of online and in person and the online format can be asynchronous or synchronous)? I have several theories. (I feel like some of the things I said about how people who have ADHD learn can be applied to a number of other disabilities as well and not just ADHD).

Hi, nonny!

Obligatory disclaimer: while I do have ADHD, I'm definitely not an expert on it and can only speak from my experience

I think for me, I have a lot of issues with executive dysfunction. It's hard for me to start a task. So when the entire class is just me doing stuff whenever, things get left to the last minute, and I don't even usually read or watch all of the class materials because I can't make my brain cooperate with me.

I do best with in-person classes. When I'm in an online class, it's very easy for me to get distracted. The number of times I've legit been reading fanfiction or even watching Netflix while in an online class--sometimes with the camera on--is staggering.

I think it also depends on the topic of the class. If it's something I'm super into, I'm more likely to be able to get into the class even if it's online and asynchronous, though I really do need at least some level of synchronicity. On the other hand, we had a live Zoom every week for my stats class that was optional, and I only went to that once. (Though, admittedly, that was because the TA running it was a little dismissive when I asked a question and then needed follow-up clarification when I didn't understand her answer.) Also, I Did Not Care about stats at all. I liked it in high school, but the way it was taught in this class was not vibing with me.

Also, learning styles come into play here, ADHD or not. Idk if they've been debunked or anything, but my middle school in Virginia went through this phase where like every single teacher had us take a test to determine our learning style preferences, ostensibly so they could adapt to our needs but that never happened. This was like 15 years ago, but basically every one of those tests said that I was a kinesthetic learner, which means I learn best by doing rather than listening to an explanation or reading about a concept. I need to actually do the thing to learn it. There's less of that physicality and engagement in online classes, and especially in asynchronous online classes.

Some of it may also just be convenience? Like, I'm a full-time student. I work a 20 hr/wk job at the university and attend classes, and that is my life. That's been my life since I started my MLIS in 2018 and remains the same in my PhD program. When we're not in covidtimes, I'm on campus and attending classes and going to work. If I were working a full-time job elsewhere or had kids or something, then online classes might be more convenient. However, I know my limits, and I know that I would not be able to handle that at all. I need to be a full-time student because I don't have the ability to split my attention in the ways that would be necessary to pull that off, and I would be dropping balls left and right while I tried desperately to keep them in the air.

What are your thoughts, nonny? Or if anyone else has thoughts, feel free to chime in!

#replies #anon #nicole speaks #nicole rambles #adhd #gradblr #phdblr #studyblr

1 note · View note

polcrity · 4 years

Photo

will he make it out alive? || a playlist/introduction to ezra washington

daylight - joji ft. diplo || and i’ve cried up and down in these hallways blamed myself super rich kids - frank ocean, earl sweatshirt || do they sew wings on tailored suits no halo - brockhampton || god’s special mess never had no halo on melancholy hill - gorillaz || just looking out on the day of another dream pills - joji || i don’t know why i feel this way i feel the same i don’t know why

triggers to be considered: anxiety disorders (alluded to), childhood mental illness/treatment, medication

being different was not the problem. it was being so different that you became an inconvenience that shot you in the foot.

the beginning

you were only eighteen months old when your parents noticed that you didn’t really talk much-- you didn’t try to communicate with the outside world the way that all of your brothers and sisters so eagerly tried. you were withdrawn, individualistic, preferring to be alone despite the encouragements of your peers and parents. in fact, it took you three years to say your first word. but you’ll tell people to this day: it wasn’t that you didn’t know how, it was that you just didn’t have anything to say, really.

you were five years old when your parents sat you down and said they were going to take you to a special lady who was going to ask you questions. you asked if she was going to ask anyone else any questions and your parents said no-- though they swiftly distracted you with the promise of mcdonald’s. the lady was nice too. she gave you toys, she asked you about your brothers and sisters, how nice your mommy and daddy were to you, and all of those things that your teacher used to talk to you about as you’d sit beside her every morning. this lady, however, didn’t look at you so strangely when you told her that you just wanted to play with her, not the other kids in your class.

you were eight years old when your parents told you that you were going to be seeing a new friend every week for awhile. she was also nice-- but when you asked why you had to see her every week, she never really answered you. instead, she asked you about your dreams. you can’t remember it now, but she had folders of your drawings, and with each drawing she would ask you why did you want to draw this? and every time, you would tell her: i had a dream about it. or maybe you would say ‘he’s in my closet’. or maybe you would say ‘

you were ten years old when you stayed home all summer and when all of your brothers and sisters went to school in the fall, your parents told you that they needed to speak with you about something very, very serious. they told you that after months of consideration, the family was going to make a big adjustment: you were going to attend a special school for special kids who needed a little extra help. you were confused, because as far as you had heard, special wasn’t such a nice word-- you may have been young, but you knew that it was just what grown ups said so that they didn’t have to say different.

and... yeah, you were different. you didn’t do so well in school. but it wasn’t because you didn’t know the stuff, it was because you had to stay home so often. you had nightmares, that’s all. sometimes the nightmares just kept you up all night-- and everybody’s crabby when they’re kept up all night. you heard your parents call it anxiety before, or maybe reclusive, but to you: it’s just you.

the new beginning

when you got to the “special school”, you heard what it was really called: the john miller orthogenic boarding academy. there, another nice lady (sometimes you wonder if it’s just one really nice lady whose face you just can’t remember so well, considering she always asks the same questions) told you that you were going to stay at the school for awhile, but you’d have plenty of time at home too.

and after you started taking your pills, the days just started... slipping by. no nightmares, so that was nice-- nothing to really worry about at all. you had food, you had shelter, your school got a lot easier. you didn’t know exactly what it is that fixed it (too many pills to count, too many changes), but your chest feels relaxed for the first time in as long as you can remember and even better-- you hadn’t had one of those things that you now know as a panic attack in weeks.

and that’s just how life went for awhile. for eight years, actually, until you had to say goodbye to all of your friends, your... something tells you that you shouldn’t call them family, but sometimes they feel more like blood than the people you visit a few times a year do.

a life alone?

it’s been nine years since you were discharged-- that’s the word that they said instead of graduated-- and somehow, that sense of slipping has never stopped, even as the pills on pills on pills have begun to slowly wear off. call it mounting stress, call it the brutal and public death of his mother, call it the knowledge that you’ll never be able to change anything beyond the small, small scope of a few hundred court cases, but...

lately, you just don’t really know what to do anymore to make it all go back to the way it was.

the stats

name: ezra xavier washington age: 27 height: 6′0″ occupation: public defender alignment: chaotic good everything else: good luck figuring it out.

ADDITIONAL NOTES/CLARIFICATION:

ezra has been heavily medicated since age ten, cycling through every anti-depressant, benzodiazepine, anti-psychotic, and sleeping medication known to man. hell, he’s even tried microdosing. due to this, he may appear to be foggy or disinterested at times.

ezra’s life feels a bit like everything and nothing at the same time. one moment, stretched over twenty-eight years. twenty-eight years of moments boiled down to one feeling. often times, he isn’t quite sure how to feel about anything at all.

ezra will look back on his middle school days and call himself cringe, but truth be told, he misses when everything was simpler.

ezra is very thin and wiry due to years of appetite-suppressing medication. you may find him snacking primarily on “strategic” foods.

ezra has always had deep trouble socializing and it shows. outside of his family, he has very few friends. however, he discovered the term masking at a young age and has embraced it as not only an action, but a philosophy.

ezra did not appear to take the death of his mother too hard, but he did. you just didn’t see it.

ezra has devoted his life (at least, however much longer he has) to the pursuit of not only avenging his mother’s death, but stopping the cycle of gangs in chicago as a whole.

ezra feels like everything is slipping away, one moment at a time.

#ez.intro #ez.edit #uhhh #this is a monster and i wrote it over hours and do not have time to edit #so.#crimson.intro #pls pretend that u simply do not see all of the typos #tw anxiety disorders #tw medication #tw childhood mental illness

7 notes · View notes

xiubaek-13 · 4 years

Text

Definitely Not Hogwarts

Prompt: Baekhyun + “You taste like fucking candy.” + “I was just hoping that y’know… you’d fall in love with me.”

Setting/AU: Magic

Warnings: innuendo, magic, completely non subtle references, swearing.

Word Count: 7,173 (it’s still a drabble, let’s pretend it isn’t this long)

A/N: I hope you enjoy it, you kind of get everyone in this as an added bonus for me taking so long.

If there was something you hated more than changing schools mid-year you had yet to encounter it. Why had you agreed? Because it was a great opportunity. So great that you’d accepted the offer knowing full well that you’d be moving in the middle of the year, packing all of your belongings into boxes - ones to take with you and ones to go into storage, and starting in classes that had already set their dynamic up for the year. Would it be easy? Not at all. Did you still want to do it? You bet your ass you did.

The school was in the middle of nowhere so you had to live on the premises. You’d never been to boarding school before so this concept was somewhat daunting but you were choosing to think of it as a hotel for the moment. All of the students lived in dorms and boarded for the year, only going home at the end of each term, and the teachers lived in separate wings of the school. Yes, wings, because the school was a goddamn castle.

Until a couple of years ago, they had never taken on a teacher’s aide before, but the powers that be had made a treaty between the gifted and the non gifted (god forbid the humans actually use the word magic, apparently that made it seem childlike and not the absolute danger to society that the government liked to portray it as. Magic was neither childlike or the demise of society as we know it but you digress). In the two years following that they had taken on a handful of aides, always non gifted, and usually morally opposed to the concept of magic, a choice that made you think that the wizard in control of the school was in fact, enjoying this whole ‘play nice with the humans’ thing far too much. The aide who had been chosen this year had vacated his position without notice at the end of the second term due to a spell gone wrong. Or something. The particulars were unclear. All you knew was that on one late summer morning you received an offer and should you have accepted that offer (you did, but you made sure not to sound too desperate when accepting it) you would have three days to prepare and move.

Those three days had been a complete and utter whirlwind. Your friends were ecstatic for you. You were the first aide they had selected that had actually had a positive attitude to the concept of magic. First and foremost you believed in science, but you were open to the idea of there being something more out there and if it could be applied to positively benefit human society then you were all for it. Plus, who wasn’t curious about what these kids were being taught?

Your work was sad to see you leave but thankfully you were only employed casually so you didn’t have to adhere to the standard procedure of giving two weeks notice or break any contracts in order to accept your new role, one of the bonuses to being a university student who was unable to work full time. You’d never been happier to not have job security.

Upon arrival to the castle school you were ushered to your wing (the north one with the big spire) by an overly enthusiastic pair of seniors, one of which kept cracking terrible jokes that you guessed were meant to put you at ease but they were just making you cringe, something that the taller senior - you were pretty sure he said his name was Chanyeol - found hilarious. The two showed you to your room, if you could call it that.

You felt like you’d been transported to the world of one of the many books you read while you were growing up - the princess or assassin (your parents made sure you didn’t reach adulthood believing that some man was going to come whisk you off your feet and solve all of life’s problems for you. They gave you books where the women took charge and fucked shit up as well as the damsels in distress, and ones with useless protagonists and ones with good men) living in the tower of a castle, waiting for the unfairly attractive prince or guard to appear so that hijinks could ensue. Your “room” was more of a suite, if castles could have suites. You decided they could, because you couldn’t fathom calling this a room, it was a bit too grandiose for that. You had a bedroom, private study/office, bathroom and tutoring room.

“As you can see, you have space for smaller lessons or tutoring.” Suho explained as you entered the small space, only a few desks and chairs decorating the room. “It’s mostly seniors who will come to you to go over homework, assignments, and anything they’re stuck on.” He added.

“But I’m just here as an aide, not as a teacher. Why would they come to me?” You asked.

Chanyeol replied. “A few reasons. First, if they don’t want the teacher to know that they haven’t fully grasped what was covered in the lesson, the school is super competitive so no one ever wants to let another student see an area that they are weak in. Second, you’ll be marking homework and assignments so they’d come to you if they want clarification around grades. Third, some will come to you to try and scare you. It’s like a sport for some of the students. They see how long the new non-gifted will last before running for the hills.” Your face must have dropped because he instantly waved his hands as he tried to lessen the blow of his statement. “N-not that all students are like that, there’s just a select group who do it. Most of us welcome the initiative to have humans in our school so that they can see that we’re not the evil witches and wizards of their childhood stories.”

“The castle and long robes aren’t helping that, just saying.” You deadpan.

Suho makes a sound akin to choking on air but when you look at him you see that he’s laughing. He looks at Chanyeol as he tries to calm himself but he keeps laughing while trying to speak. “I like her. I don’t think she has anything to worry about with that attitude.” The look the other senior gives him is one of pure exasperation and you have to do all that you can not to crack up at his face.

“Hyung…” he starts but then thinks better of it. His long legs carry him through to the next room, he clears his throat before continuing to speak. You leave Suho, who is still chuckling to himself, in the tutoring room. “This room is your office. It’s kind of a half library, half office. You can do your own research in here and organise all of your work in the room. If you ever need the fire lit just ask me to come and do it. I’m proficient with fire, most students can conjure fire but some would mess with you and light a fire that emits a stench, or one that burns too hot, one that talks to you, you get the idea.”

You nod and make a mental note to ask him to light the fire in winter for you if you haven’t come across any other trustworthy students by then. The proficiency stuff is new information to you. You knew that the gifted could conjure elemental magic but you didn’t know that they had proficiencies for certain elements.

“I apologise for Chanyeol, he always forgets that the non-gifted don’t know about the proficiencies. I’m assuming that’s why you look confused?” Suho leans against the door frame as he speaks. He pushes off and enters the room once you nod. “To cut a long and dreary history short, gifted - as you refer to us - have the ability to wield elemental magic. Certain families have a proficiency with certain elements which allows them to have superior control over that element. In Chanyeol’s case that is fire. In mine, water. There are nine such students at this school but if we go by our history books there are twelve families with proficiencies. We can do greater things with our elements and we take extra classes to hone our skills with them. Normal students can cast a spell to light a fire in here for you but Chanyeol could click his fingers and a fire would light, or he could create a flame in his hand and have it hover for you.”

“Can he hadouken too?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them. Chanyeol folds in half, slapping his leg as he laughs. Suho looks less amused. “Or do you guys have special rings? Can your powers combined conjure Captain Planet?” Chanyeol is struggling to breathe because of how hard he’s laughing.

“That’s… that’s not how the elemental magic works.” He begins.

“Suho, I’m kidding.” You interrupt. “You need to brush up on your human pop culture circa the 1990’s.” You smirk. “Just doing my part to help eliminate the dark, evil wizard stereotype all of you have going for you.”

He chuckles at that, shaking his head as he moves towards the next room, lightly shoving Chanyeol as he passes. “This next room is your bedroom. You’ve got one of the better rooms. You should see the aide’s room in the East Wing, it’s like a shoebox. (You thank all that is good for giving you something better than a cupboard under the stairs.) It has your bed, wardrobe, lounge and adjoining bathroom. It’s the only aide room that has that actually, all of the other wings have a communal bathroom for the aides but you lucked out with a private bath.”

You wanted to make a witty remark about that but all words died on your tongue as you stepped into the room. This was far too grand to be called a bedroom. You had a giant four poster bed to one side, a lounge suite by the fireplace, a couple of wardrobes and shelves, a table with four chairs and a little kitchenette. This was more like a studio apartment but in a castle. Everything was ornate, it was like medieval meets industrial aesthetically, which worked far better than you imagined it would.

“It’s pretty nice isn’t it?” Chanyeol remarked. “Like we said, you got pretty much the best aide room out of the lot.” He scratched the back of his head as he pondered what to say next. “Uh, that pretty much concludes the tour of your room. We’ve both got class to get to but Xiumin & D.O. will come by to take you on the tour of the grounds. They’re two of the other students with proficiencies as well, and they’re both trustworthy so you’ll be in good hands.” The two students bowed and waved farewell to you, wishing you well on your first week at the school before they left.

The other two students turned up not long after Suho & Chanyeol left. One arrived while making voice notes into his dictaphone and the other while cleaning his glasses. It wasn’t difficult for you to guess that these two would be top students, they just gave off the ‘we study a lot and it shows in our results’ kind of aura. You had been informed that all of the senior students who would be showing you around were high achievers but where Chanyeol and Suho were a more relaxed and reserved levels of intellect, these two exuded it.

The two students bowed to you and introduced themselves. The one with glasses was D.O. and the one with the dictaphone was Xiumin. You swallowed the urge to make a Harry Potter joke to D.O. but with that style of glasses he was on borrowed time before you blurted it out. You were, after all, supposed to be professional. You might only be a few years older than these seniors but you were an employee of this establishment, not the new kid. You didn’t have to fit in or be classified as cool. You had the feeling that until you actually started working you’d have to keep reminding yourself of that fact.

“So we’ll be showing you the grounds so that you have a general layout of the school. If you get lost you can always ask a student but to be on the safe side I’d recommend a fellow teacher or a student whom you recognise. Others might find it fun to mislead the new non-gifted aide.” D.O. explained. Why were these seniors painting this school like it was filled with miscreants? Did the students not respect their elders or were humans looked down on that much? Were you just a temporary plaything to them or something?

“Do the students have issues with treating the non-gifted aides with any modicum of respect?” You asked.

“It’s not that. The majority of the student body welcome the integration of humans into our school, we have just as much to learn from you as you do from us if our kind are to coexist moving forward.” Xiumin replied. “But there are a select few, as there are in any setting, who will only find pleasure in making your life difficult. They will take any chance they get to embarrass and ridicule you, to trick you and to eventually send you running from this school. Their primitive thought process is that if they have enough aides flee the school that the whole initiative will be discontinued.” He shook his head as he finished speaking, showing you just how dumb he thought this select group of the student body were.

“What Xiumin is trying to say is trust your instincts. Don’t blindly trust a student because they act kind towards you, feel them out and work out if they are playing you. We’ve been through a few too many aides this year and that group think they can send anyone away. For the most part, don’t react to them. If they think their tricks have no effect on you hopefully they’ll just get bored and leave you alone.”

“Or, they will escalate their antics and put me in actual danger.” You rebuked.

“They’d get caught and punished if it came to that.” D.O. deadpanned then added. “I’m sure you’d be fine. While we’re out Lay, another senior, will be putting up warding magic on your room to prevent any hijinks from happening there.” Hijinks? you mouthed but before you could say anything back to the half blood prince wannabe he started walking down the hall.

Xiumin chuckled under his breath and motioned for you to follow. “You’ll get used to him. He’s blunt but he’s not unkind. He doesn’t like his routine being messed with. Normally he’d be running a study group so he’s a little off kilter today. Just work with it please?” You nodded and followed the other male as he set off after not Harry Potter.

The tour was pretty informative, with both boys giving you some history for the different areas which you found fascinating. They also showed you the areas of the school you’d be frequenting the most - the main hall, the teachers lounge, kitchen, and a small selection of the classrooms you’d be in. They marked these locations on a map for you and went over the easiest routes for you to follow. Both of them were very polite and patient with you as you very slowly got your bearings. Xiumin advised for you to memorise the paths rather than any objects in the halls as they had a tendency to move. D.O. eventually led you to a large set of double doors and guided you down towards the grounds at the rear of the school. This place was massive and your brain hurt from trying to remember everything.

“The sports grounds, gym, amphitheater, horticulture and agriculture areas are spread out here. The easiest ways to know the borders of the grounds are the lake at the back, forest to the left and mountains to the right. You’re perfectly safe if you remain within those boundaries. We’ll quickly take you down to each building but you won’t have to come down here too often so don’t worry too much about memorising them.” He stated.

Xiumin added, with a grin on his face. “You’ll probably only come down to watch sporting matches. Even if you don’t really care for sport, adding magic makes the games much more interesting. Occasionally a class will be held down here if they are using spells that require a lot more space than a classroom offers.” You were going to have to witness this if only to put a real image in your mind of what that looked like. Until you did, it would be every tacky wizard movie you’d ever seen playing on repeat, which would drive you batty. The two of them continued showing you everything, adding fun facts and tidbits of history along the way.

“So, uh, forgive my ignorance but we really only have mainstream media to go off here. Do you guys use wands?” You ask.

D.O. scoffs indignantly. “We absolutely do not. Wands are for children and idiots.”

“What he means to say is that we use our hands and minds. Wands exist but are not widely used since they require far less skill and are less accurate.” Xiumin adds.

“Your mainstream media is dumb.” D.O. says.

You raise your hands. “Hey, no disagreement from me here. I know it’s incorrect with its portrayals 99% of the time which is why I asked.” Xiumin chuckles as he calms D.O. down. You hadn’t expected his outburst to be over a fucking wand but hey, weirder things were surely still to come.

Eventually the three of you approached the large doors that would lead you back within the main building. D.O. smiled when you looked to him to lead the way back. “Oh no. You’re going to lead us back to your room as best you can. Consider this a test of your short term memory.” He chuckled as your face fell.

“Fine.” You grumbled. How hard could it be to follow a map back to your room anyway?

Harder than it looked was apparently the answer. You made it back after a few wrong turns. Part of you wondered if this was some cruel joke where they got to laugh at you leading yourself in circles while futilely trying to reach your destination. The other part just wanted you to hurry up and work out how to get back to your room. When you spotted the stairs that led to your hallway you sighed in relief. Both boys smiled brightly at you. “We consider our tour a failure if you can’t find your way back. You might have made a few missteps but you got back without needing any assistance. You’ll know the grounds like the back of your hand soon enough.” Xiumin smiled.

The two of them led you the rest of the way back to your room before bidding you farewell. “We’ll see you in class.” Xiumin said as he bowed, a small smile on his face. He definitely didn’t look old enough to be a senior but who were you to judge? You were in a freaking school of magic, for all you knew he was 400 years old. Or maybe there was a portrait of him hidden in an attic somewhere.

“Thanks for the tour, you both helped me out a lot. I will definitely be using this map over the coming days while I get my bearings. There is a lot of history here,” You gestured to your surroundings. “and it’s fascinating, I know you barely scratched the surface with the small insights you gave me but it was very informative and enjoyable.” You smiled.

D.O. chuckled. “I’m glad you didn’t fine it too boring. Most of the aides that come through here don’t even listen to half of the tour we give.” He paused. “Actually, before we go I have a question for you.” His head tilted to the side as he appraised you, as if looking for some answer to his yet unasked question.

“Go ahead, it’s the least I could do after such a lovely tour.” You replied.

“Well, the least you could do would be nothing but -”

“Let’s not debate semantics right now.” Xiumin interjected.

D.O. huffed, but acquiesced. “Fine. We’ll ignore the idiosyncrasies of the english language for now.” Xiumin rolled his eyes, this was clearly not the first time he’d had to deal with the other nitpicking at insignificant details of the language. “My question is in two parts. Firstly, where do you stand on the issue of magic? and secondly, why did you accept this role?”

Well that wasn’t the question you were expecting. You didn’t know what question you were expecting but it sure as hell wasn’t one this bold, especially not from a student. “To start with, you know I don’t actually have to answer you right? You are technically my students.”

“Of course. Will you answer it though?” He asked, his gaze locked on yours. The balls on this kid…

“I will, but the point is that I don’t owe you, or any student an explanation like this.” They both nod at you and wait for you to continue. “To answer the first part of your question, I believe in science. Always have and always will, but I’ve always had an interest in magic. It was this mystical thing that appeared in the storybooks of my childhood, and I don’t mean the propaganda that litters the homes of the non gifted, these books had the gifted as heroes, as people who saved the day. I watched the change happen. All it took was one world leader who realised the gifted were real and they feared the abilities you have over non gifted. Suddenly all of the children’s books had evil wizards and witches who would trick you and eat you. I was never swayed, my interest only grew once I realised that the mystical wonders from my childhood books were real. I think that in order for gifted and non gifted to coexist, they need to work together and not look at either side as less than or evil. There are terrible gifted and non gifted people but there are also wonderful gifted and non gifted people. We fear the unknown but if we work together, that fear lessens.”

You pause to take a breath, noticing how wide Xiumin’s eyes have gotten as you’ve been speaking. “As for the second part, part of it has surely been answered in the first part of my response but aside from general curiosity and a belief in our kind working together I also want to be a part of that. It’s not lost on us that most non gifted selected for the program have been heavily against the concept of magic and view the gifted as the devil incarnate. I know I’m probably one of the first to be selected who has no negative preconceptions of what goes on here and I want to do my job, help students and be able to provide workable ideas for the future of our kind coexisting. I believe that if we can work together, science and magic combined will result in wondrous things.”

Finally, he cracked a smile, his whole face changing into that of a bright young man. “You are a welcome change. You’re not wrong when you say that the other aides have a dislike of our kind and of magic as a whole. I think our kind chose the wrong approach by attempting to make a non gifted who was fundamentally against everything that we stand for change their mind by simply existing with us. It was never going to work, and even if it did your government could scratch it up to stockholm syndrome. Just.” His face hardens but his gaze softens as he looks at you. “Keep your wits about you and don’t be fooled by rose coloured glasses.”

***

Your first few days went by without too many hiccups. You’d been thrown into a wide array of classes; apothecary, history of magic, potions, magical law, spellcasting & defense magic. The classes were overwhelming but oh so interesting, to the point that you had to keep reminding yourself that you were supposed to be reading up on the syllabus and grading homework against the guide sheets you’d been given, not giving your full attention to the teacher. That was easier said than done once the topic of dragons came up. It took all of your self restraint not to blurt out “Fucking hell, dragons are real?!” but maintaining your professional facade took priority. You made a note to read up on them later because they were even more fascinating than your childhood stories had hinted at.

You met most of the other proficient students thanks to Suho & Chanyeol introducing them to you. You’d run into Xiumin & D.O. again when they were on their way to their extra credit classes and asked them about their proficiencies, apologising for forgetting to ask the first time you’d met. They’d let you know that Xiumin’s proficiency was ice and D.O.’s was earth. You didn’t get to ask much more about it because they ran off to class, not wanting to be late and have that mark on their records.

“Good Afternoon Chanyeol, what can I do for you?” You’d asked when he approached you with two other students trailing behind him.

He grinned and gestured to the two behind him. “I figured I should introduce you to these two. They’ll either annoy the shit out of you or be model students.” You raised a brow at him. “They’re younger than most seniors, thanks to their proficiencies.” He stage whispered at you.

“You know we can hear you right?” One of them remarks.

To his credit, Chanyeol ignores them and continues talking. “Whilst they are young and immature, they possess a lot of control over their elements, Kai in particular.” He gestures to the boy to his left, who smiles shyly at you and waves. “They figured they should get him through school, disciplined & bursting at the seams with morals before he got too old. His proficiency is teleportation you see, so everyone does what they can to steer him away from a life of crime.”

You nod. “No ill gotten gains for you then.” Kai chuckles. “Can you only teleport yourself or can you take people and objects with you?”

“I can choose. I have to be touching whatever I want to take with me but if someone grabs me I can choose to teleport alone or with them.” He replies.

You lean forward on your desk. “How large an object can you move?” You ask.

He grins at you. “Not telling.”

You sigh dramatically. “Chanyeol, I fear that he might have already given in to a life of crime.” For a moment Chanyeol looks confused until the synapses connect and he realises that you’re poking fun. “If you do a dramatic pose when you teleport then I think you’re well on your way to the criminal mastermind title.”

Kai laughs loudly. “I like her.” he states before wandering off to find his seat. You just hoped the military never found out about him, they’d abuse his power wherever possible and he seemed far too kind for that kind of life.

The other male clears his throat to remind Chanyeol that he is still waiting for his introduction. Chanyeol’s eyes widen and then narrow in frustration. “This is the youngest of the proficient, Sehun. He likes to think that the universe revolves around him but we keep him grounded, figuratively and literally…once or twice.”

You glance past Chanyeol to Sehun. He looks like he has a chip on his shoulder, and the resting bitch face isn’t helping him not seem like a jerk to you but you give him the benefit of the doubt. “Hi Sehun, what is your proficiency?”

He gives you a very slight, like blink and you’d miss it kind of slight, smile as you feel a light breeze wash over you. “Wind.”

You ponder for a moment and bite your tongue to prevent another Captain Planet reference from coming out. “Wind would be the broad term though wouldn’t it? You control air right?” You ask.

He nods. “Yes. I can control and manipulate the air, it’s velocity and molecular structure.”

“Are they trying to prevent you from a life of crime as well by fast tracking your schooling?”

He smirks. “Something like that. I had a huge amount of power but no control over it so I was pushed through school to better harness my power.”

Chanyeol interjects. “His power used to be based off his emotions so he’s had to learn to control himself and basically relearn how to use his power.”

“That’s pretty impressive actually.” You reply.

Sehun actually smiles at that. “I like her too, for now. Nice to meet you.” He nods then also heads to his seat.

Chanyeol smiles warmly. “He caused himself a lot of harm while he was learning. Lay, you haven’t met him yet but he’s proficient in healing, had to patch him and quite a few of us up on several occasions. He seems cold and aloof but he needs to be in order to keep his ability at a safe level.”

“Thanks for introducing me, that’s 6 of you I’ve met so far so I still have 3 to go? Lay being one of them. Who are the other 2?”

You hear the groan in his voice. Clearly he isn’t a fan of these two. “Chen & Baekhyun. They are probably the two who will give you the most grief. Too clever for their own good and they are sneaky as all hell. They control lightning & light. Don’t be fooled by their lost puppy eyes. In fact, ask some of the other aides, I’m sure they have stories.” He glances up as the teacher enters the room and ducks off to his seat.

You’re left to wonder about these two supposed wicked students. What do they look like? (Probably should have asked that in hindsight) Are they really that charming? Had the other aides exaggerated with their stories? You were going to find one after class and learn more about these two. You wanted to be prepared for whenever they decided to show up in your vicinity.

***

“Baekhyun? Is he here?!” The aide shuts the door quickly, looking around the room frantically.

“Woah, woah, calm down. He’s not here. I was just asking about him.” You try to calm the spooked aide. Christ what did this student do to the aides?

“What did he do to you?” She asks quietly.

“Huh? Nothing. I haven’t met him yet.”

“Keep it that way.” She says quickly.

“The better question is what did he do to you?” You take a step towards the aide, determined to get answers. She seems truly afraid of this student. Is she vehemently against magic? Yes. Does that warrant this level of fear? You’re not sure.

“He’s evil.” She whispers.

You roll your eyes. “Come on now. I know you aren’t exactly pro magic but evil? In what way?”

Her eyes widen as she grabs the fabric of your shirt over your shoulders. “He toys with you. He’ll be the sweetest student you ever meet until you do something that he doesn’t like. Then he’s your worst nightmare.”

“So a teenager with an out of control ego. That’s not so bad. You had me thinking he’d be murdering kittens on my doorstep or something.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t understand! He’s proficient in light, sounds lame right?” Maybe it sounded lame to her but you had already put some thought into that power. Manipulating light and dark, controlling shadows - that could be a terrifying power. “It sounds like a nothing proficiency compared to the others but once you realise that light is necessary to everything, it becomes terrifying. He shouldn’t be.” She shudders.

Maybe that attitude is why he doesn’t like you. You think to yourself. Out loud, you attempt to change the subject. “And Chen?”

She scoffs. “He’s a trickster but there is no malice in what he does. He messes with you because he can. Compared to the other one, he’s harmless.”

You bid her farewell and head back towards your room. Another aide stops you down the corridor. “He knew she had a fear of the dark so he manipulated the shadows so that she felt like she was perpetually being engulfed in darkness for the better part of a month. She’s been a nervous wreck around him ever since. All because he didn’t score higher than Kai in class.”

“He sounds like a right jerk.” You state.

“He is. He’s ruthless once he’s decided that you aren’t useful to him anymore. The others are all probably like this but he’s the only one not hiding what an evil monster he and his kind truly are.” The aide leaves before you can give him a piece of your mind. Armed with more information on the remaining two proficient students than you’d had an hour ago, you head back to your room. Lost in thought you fail to notice a student the student that brushes past you.

***

The rest of your day goes smoothly. You attend two more classes and are given homework to mark for each. Sehun comes to you for tutoring after his magical law class. He’d told you he understood the concepts they’d covered but didn’t understand why any of it mattered. You’d done your best to explain the notion of risk and consequence in relation to magical law, using his own grasp on his proficiency as an example. Once he left another student came knocking on your door, one you hadn’t been introduced to yet.

“Are you a senior?” You asked.

He nodded. “You’re our new aide.”

“Your powers of observation are second to none.”

“Hey now, that’s not how you should talk to students!” He exclaimed as he entered the room. You’d figured that he was one of the 3 remaining seniors you were yet to meet, you just didn’t know which one he was. The upturned shape of his mouth screamed ‘I’m mischief incarnate’ so you ruled out Lay.

“Most students would announce themselves upon arrival. Forgive me, I don’t believe we’ve been introduced yet.” You don’t hold out your hand, a tip you were heeding since Xiumin mentioned it.

“I’m Chen and I suck at apothecary. Please help me teacher-nim. I need to be in the top tier of the class so that my parents will get off my back.” He dramatically drops to his knees and overacts begging for help, making you laugh loudly.

“Get up, dear lord. Chen… lightning proficiency right?” He nods. “Do you just invoke it or can you direct it wherever you want it to go?” You ask.

Instead of answering he flicks his wrist and a small electric shock strikes your thumb. It’s similar to when you get a shock from your car or if you touch something after shuffling on carpet. You look up at him to see him smirking. “I can control it, and make it as strong or as delicate as I please.” He waggles his eyebrows at you.

You choose to ignore what he’s implying and continue to question him. “Just lightning or all electrical currents?”

“Oooh we have a smart one this time. Everyone else tried to work out my proficiency based off norse mythology.” He grins, that smile as disarming as you expected it to be.

“Oh please, you’re more shock mouse than god of thunder.” You blurt out. “Though I hear that you aren’t dissimilar to another norse god - Loki.”

He laughs loudly, the sound is music to your ears. “You are not what I was expecting but I’m not mad about it yet.” He settles into a seat at the desk across from you. “But seriously, I need help with this class. Can we work on that now and exchange smartass lines at each other later?”

You laugh and nod, settling back into teacher mode. So far Chen doesn’t seem as bad as the reputation that preceded him but you make sure to keep your wits about you. You know one thing for certain though, this student is a tragic flirt.

***

You’re exhausted after the extra tutoring sessions and the marking. Your bed has never looked so inviting and you cannot wait to slide under the covers and drift off to dreamland. Your alarm had rather rudely pulled you from a particularly salacious dream last night and you were hoping to return to it tonight. You packed away all of your stuff, making sure to lock the students work in your private office. You’d been informed that there was a nullify spell over the room which rendered everyone’s skills, no matter how proficient, useless. Once you were done packing up you made your way to your bathroom to wash up for the night, taking your time to complete your skincare routine and brushing your teeth.

You refrain from rushing to your bed because you are not a child but a sigh of pure joy escapes your lips once you finally crawl under the covers. You think back to the dream you had left this morning and sink into the pillows, closing your eyes. The image of the log cabin in the snow coming back into view. You feel the cozy warmth of the blanket wrapped around you as you wait for him to return. He’d gone to fetch more hot chocolate and sweets so that you could finish watching the movie you’d started just over an hour ago.

Vaguely you recalled him being more built in this mornings dream but as long as he was bringing you sugar who were you to judge. What did alarm you was the sudden change in sensation of the blanket against your skin. Before you felt cozy as it had warmed your clothes but now you could feel it against your skin. When had you suddenly become naked?

Then he appeared. He didn’t look as sweet as you recalled. Rather, he looked annoyed for a fraction of a second before his face transformed, a kind expression now showing on it as he climbed back onto the bed next to you and handed you a mug of the aforementioned hot chocolate and placed a bowl of sweets in front of you. “Thanks babe.” You smiled as you picked up a toffee and put it in your mouth.

“You’re welcome.” The words sounded forced. Like he didn’t want to say them.

You do your best to ignore it and continue watching the movie as you sip your drink. You feel like he’s staring at you and not in a ‘I want to kiss every inch of you before I ravage you’ kind of way. “What?” You ask as you look at him.

“Really? ‘You taste like fucking candy?’ That is the smooth line your subconscious came up with? You need to get out more.” His tone is full of judgement and disgust.

“What?! What are you talking about?” You exclaim, confused. This dream isn’t like the one you wanted to return to.

“In your mind we keep watching this movie and then I lean in to kiss you and say that line.”His judgemental tone is really starting to grate on you.

“Who the fuck are you?” You ask exasperatedly.

“I really thought you were smarter than this.” He chides as he gestures to himself as though he’s the greatest thing since sliced bread. “I’m Baekhyun.”

“What the fuck are you doing in my head? I’ve never even met you!” You clutch the blanket around you as you remember your nakedness. Was this still a dream? It felt a little too real to be a dream. There were details missing and if you were dreaming up Baekhyun then you needed to have some stern words with your subconcious about cockblocking you. The dream was supposed to start cringeworthy and saccharine sweet but then twist into a filthy romp. You knew the lines were cheesy, but they were supposed to be. It wasn’t so sweet when your face was planted into the rug about 20 minutes from now.

He shrugs. “I’ve had no reason to seek you out in person, not with everyone painting me as some sort of antichrist to you.”

“So what? You just decided you’d appear in my dream?” You choose to go with this no longer being your dream. You figure that he’s somehow invaded it and that alone is pissing you the hell off.

“I wanted to see what you were like and my proficiency allows me to do this so I figured ‘what the hell’ and popped over for a visit.” He grimaces. “I was not expecting ‘I’ve come to clean ze pool’ levels of dialogue though.”

You close your eyes and shake your head. “You need to get out of my dreams. I didn’t fucking invite you here.” It dawns on you that he must be able to dream walk and that thought somewhat terrifies you. Suddenly the frantic fear that the other aide had doesn’t seem so dramatic.

“Push me out then. Consider this a lesson in defense against wizards. Your mental barriers are weak. I can see everything.” He leans against the wall of the cabin as though he hasn’t a care in the world. You don’t have a clue at how to push him out because why would you? You try to imagine kicking him out of your head and locking a door behind you but he simple laughs at you. You try visualising a vault, and locking away your precious thoughts and memories, slowly filling the vault with more and more items.

He laughs. “Oh you are tragic. I thought the candy line was bad but this, this is just ripped from a poorly written romance novel. ‘I was just hoping that y’know… you’d fall in love with me.’ Excuse me while I barf.”

“Fuck you.” You grumble. You are going to evict this smug prick from your mind if its the last thing you do.

He looks you up and down and smirks. “Non-gifted aren’t usually my thing but I’d make an exception for you.” He winks. “The bit after all of the terrible dialogue isn’t so bad now that I look forward. My, my, you are filthy.”

You want to punch him.

#exowritersnet #kwordsmiths #thekpopnetwork #kloversnet #kpopwonderlandtag #1000 followers #drabble game #exo drabble #exo fic #exo imagine #exo scenario #baekhyun fic #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun drabble #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun oneshot #exo oneshot

86 notes · View notes

littlejeanniebean · 4 years

Text

peter parker goes to marvel high (normal mcu au)

A/N: Peter’s first day of high school ft. Shuri, Mr. Stark, Mr. Loki, and co. ~1700 words teenaged angst then fluff. More Peter x Shuri in my masterlist :)

Heavily inspired by this post by @spellbounding-slytherin

I’m also a big fan of @tinymintywolf‘s art :))

- J xx

Fact: Peter Parker was a nervous wreck. May, ever the optimist, had patted his cheeks, kicked him out of the car, and told him to have a good day. Peter had never had a good first day of school. He was smart but had a severe attention deficit, so even his teachers never liked him. His one best friend throughout junior high, Ned Leeds, had moved to New Jersey, so he would probably end up eating alone in some empty classroom just to be safe. And he’d met the principal at orientation last Friday. He had an eye patch and a perpetual frown, used to head up the corrections department for youth offenders. So yeah, high school was going to suck big time.

“Move it, dickwad,” one of the larger boys shoved past him at the door to his homeroom.

Peter strategically chose a seat in the ambiguous, unnoticeable middle.

A short, bright-eyed girl marched up to him, “You’re in my seat.”

“Sorry! Sorry!” he tried to pick up his backpack but the strap was caught on the leg of his chair, so he just kind of ended up spilling himself over the floor.

“Crap, I was just messing with you, kid,” she helped him up, “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he just sort of stood there awkwardly, not meeting her eyes.

“Dude, you gotta stop apologizing. I’m sorry, okay?” she tried to get him to look at her, “I’m Shuri. I have a messed up sense of humour that scares away any friends I might’ve ended up having. Is it cool if I sit next to you?”

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, “I’m Perker Pat - Parker Pete - Peter Parker.”

“Cool.”

“Dude, you are sad,” the boy who shoved him coming into the room twirled an expensive-looking pen, sparing him the most derisive of sideways glances.

Peter was saved from actually having to come up with a response when their teacher walked in two-minutes after the bell and put his feet up on his desk, “Okay, kiddies. My name is Mr. Stark, you may call me Mr. Stark. I am your homeroom teacher unless you’re in the wrong room. I also teach AP Math and Computer Science. If you have questions at this point, I honestly wonder how you got this far in life, but I’m obligated to ask.”

The room was silent.

“Great, do whatever until the bell rings, I guess.”

The class emptied out.

Peter hung back, “M-Mr. Stark?”

“Yes, Proton.”

“I-it’s Peter, actually.”

“I was talking about your t-shirt.”

“I - Oh, yeah,” he looked down at the “I’m positive” joke print, “um… I just wanted to let you know that I have ADHD, mostly the AD part a-and I don’t expect any special treatment or anything and I’ll work really hard, but I also wanted to join Mathletes and I wasn’t allowed in junior high because I’d always get sidetracked at the meets but I think I can do better now if you’ll give me the chance… butifnotthat’sokay.”

Mr. Stark appraised him, “First meeting is in this room at three.”

“Thank you, sir!” he smiled, but when his teacher didn’t smile back, he fixed his face and walked to his next period.

“I’m Mr. Banner, and there are three things you need to remember if you want to succeed in biochemistry. One: If you’re unsure but proceed without asking for clarification first, I will be angry. Two: If you show up to the lab without completing the prior work assigned, I will be angry. Three: If you do not share work between your lab partners equally, I will be angry. Don’t make me angry.”

“Wanna be lab partners?” Shuri asked.

“Sure,” Peter squeaked and cleared his throat.

“You’re not going to break a test tube on me, are you?”

He shook his head quickly.

“You’re a lot of work, Peter Parker, but it’s kind of adorable.”

“Um… thanks?”

“You’re welcome. Now hand me that pipette and fire up the spectrophotometer.”

The last period before lunch was P.E.

“I’m Coach Barton, that’s all you need to know. Let’s do a few warm up laps around the circuit.”

Peter ran hard and was close to fainting as he crossed the line in the middle of the pack.

“Woah, kid, you need to go to the nurse’s?” Coach singled him out.

He tried to say ‘no’ but no sound would come out, so he just shook his head, gasping. He could hear the other boys snickering beyond the pounding of his blood in his brain.

“I think you need to go to the nurse’s,” Coach beckoned to the boy who’d crossed the line first, “Flash, take him to the clinic, would ya?”

“Yes, sir,” the bully from his homeroom smirked at him.

As soon as they were out of the gym, he jostled and picked at the smaller boy only to exhibit the epitome of sympathy in front of Nurse Man-Ti.

“Here, drink some electrolytes,” she told him and he finished the small bottle in under a minute.

As soon as Flash was gone, Peter let himself just cry. He wished his aunt would just homeschool him, but it’s been hard since his uncle died and in the face of that, Peter felt bad for feeling bad about his little problems and that made him cry some more.

“Hey,” the nurse sat beside him quietly, “Peter, right?”

He nodded, “I’m sorry.”

“What for? Better out than in, that’s what I always say.”

Peter sniffed.

“Do you want to talk about it? Or make an appointment with Counsellor Barnes?”

“No, no, I’m fine. I just needed, uh… electrolytes,” he leaves quickly after that.

Peter goes to his locker for his bag and clothes, red eyes trained on the floor so that hopefully nobody notices. He doesn’t notice Shuri arguing with Flash, gesturing forcefully back at his locker. Flash sees him put in his combination and open the door, a cheshire grin spreading across his face.

“Peter!” Shuri tries to warn him, “Don’t -”

But it’s too late and he’s covered in silly string, a few old socks found decomposing in the gym lockers, and the contents of a bathroom trash can.

“I’m gonna go change,” he whispers to no one in particular.

“I’ll save you a place at lunch?” Shuri called after him.

Peter stops in his tracks to shoot her a grateful smile, “Thank you.”

Mr. Thor Odinson was a very loud history teacher, but it worked well for keeping Peter’s attention throughout the class, so he was able to answer all the review questions.

“Teacher’s pet,” Flash scoffed at the sound of the bell.

“Dumbass,” Shuri fake-coughed and pulled Peter to the auditorium.

“I’m Mr. Loki Odinson, you may call me Mr. Loki to distinguish between myself and my hard-of-hearing brother, Thor,” said their quieter drama teacher, “Thompson, if you kick Parker’s chair one more time, I will send you to Fury’s office with no note, no explanation. And he has a very specific way of dealing with those cases.”

Flash stopped and sat straighter.

“Good, Parker, you seem suitably nervous. Come up here and help me demonstrate a quick improvisation exercise.”

Peter tripped on his way down the aisle to the stage, but kept going.

“Now, you’re a superhero and I’m a supervillain. You’re trying to turn me over to the good side, but we can only converse alphabetically. So you must start with the letter ‘A’, I must start with the letter ‘B’ and so forth. Are you ready?”

“No.”

“Ah, ah, first rule of improv: the answer is always, ‘Yes, and…’ Let’s go, Parker. You’re brave. You’re bold. You’re a hero.”

“Alright, Mr. Villain, you have two choices,” Peter surprised himself at how his voice carried. It must be the way the auditorium was built, “perish, or join our fight.”

“Blech, I choose to perish,” Mr. Loki dropped to his knees, “C’mon Hero, end me if you have the guts at all.”

“Come on, you know you never wanted to watch the city burn to begin with. The hive possessed you, used you. Now, you have the chance to redeem yourself.”

“Don’t presume to know me because you can’t possibly. You don’t know what I’ve been through. What I’ve lost!”

“Everything,” Peter said quietly, “Everyone you ever cared for. I do know… because so have I. We’re not so different.”

“Fighting the hive is a losing proposition. You have nothing that could work against them!”

“Gas. Even a million eyes are no good in a fog.”

“Huh… I never thought of that. I’ll join your fight, Hero if you’ll let me,” Mr. Loki proffered his “bound” wrists.

“I knew there was some good left in you, Mr. Villain,” Peter “unlocked” the “restraints.”

Mr. Loki mimed holding a knife to Peter’s neck, “Just not that much, I’m afraid. Hive Mother! I’ve got him! I’ve got the hero! Now release my family from the void as you promised!”

Peter wracked his brain from the next letter. The plot twist didn’t help him think either. “... Krap with a ‘k’?”

Mr. Loki broke character and laughed before clapping and shaking his student’s hand, “That was the most interesting improv demonstration I’ve had in awhile, Parker. You’re a natural. Now everyone pair off and try to top that performance if you can!”

English with Mr. Rogers was the last period of the day. He didn’t look up from his book until everyone was seated, silent, and had their eyes up front. It took a crazy long time and a good deal of organization and yelling on Shuri’s part.

“Sorry, guys, I was reading a book about anti-gravity. It's impossible to put down!” he joked.

Peter was the only one who laughed.

After giving a bit of a lecture on respect for their instructors, valuing their education, and how much they were going to love English this year, he let them go early.

“Okay, I’m calling you three Alvin, Simon, and Theodore from now on,” Mr. Stark addressed his small Mathlete gathering, “Our new mascot is a chipmunk, I don’t care that all our other teams are Rocket Raccoons.”

“Which one of us is Alvin?” Shuri asked.

“Since you asked, you are. Fancy-Pen is Simon and Proton is Theodore. Now, we have a competition to prepare for in… ages from now, so… drill, I guess? I don’t know. Who wants to do Euclidean algorithms?”

Three hands went up.

“Nice,” he brought out his expensive Japanese chalk, a gift from his wife, the well-known Fortune 500 CEO, Pepper Potts.

2 notes · View notes

jupiterparker · 5 years

Text

Literal Perfection (p.p)

Words count: 1.6k

Paring: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: a/n: this is for @celestialparker and @galaxy-parker’s writing challenge

Prompt: “I wish you hadn’t told me.”

In which -> secrets aren’t the best

You were never a huge fan of secrets. It wasn’t like you had traumatic events associated with them or anything. It was just, in general, the feeling you had when it was revealed to you, or the fact that people were capable of them.

Sure sometimes secrets are for a good reason, such as surprise parties. However, you weren't even a surprise type of person.

But in general, secrets weren’t always good, they usually weren’t.

You decided that the day you found out that all your friends had banded together to exclude you. Usually, you all made plans together at lunch, but recently you had been busy with clubs and getting help from teachers. Because of that, you didn’t question why you didn’t know of plans until you asked about that.

But when you had a break coming up, you had asked about plans in advance. That week you were less busy than usual, so you had sat with them at lunch that entire week.

“Want to do something this break?” you asked your friends as you were crossing the road, going home from school. You were happy to actually be present for once at help make plans. But you weren’t expecting all the girls at your table to glance at each other and share a look.

“Um actually, we already have plans,” one of them said. You looked at her for clarification, and she instantly looked away. You frowned and turned to everyone else, only to be met with silence.

“Anywhere there?” you joked, hoping to lighten the mood.

“I mean… I guess you can come though” someone finally said, “if you want” she added on coldly. You bit your lip hurt, that last part made you feel cautious about going, like you would be a stranger, intruding.

You took a deep breath and continued, “when did you make plans?”

“We discussed it in a group chat,” the same girl said slowly, like she was choosing her words carefully not to hurt your feelings, making her self the representative for the rest of them.

You raised an eyebrow at this, a gut feeling telling you that something worse was about to come “Are we friends?”

“No, we haven’t been for months,” your friend said, “goodbye.” And with that was the last time you saw that group. They left you in shock in the middle of the road.

Your mental health disoriented slightly, and you felt super self-conscious as you replayed past memories in your head. Those memories showed small signs here and there that indicated that they weren’t ever your friends.

You came home to your parents in tears and explained it all to them. You wanted to stay home the entire week, but they convinced you to go out at least once.

It was almost surreal of how quickly your luck switched, as next thing you knew, you met Peter.

Very early in your newfound friendship, you made it very clear how you felt about secrets, and to your surprise, he agreed wholly.

Suddenly life seemed perfect. Peter introduced you to his friends, Ned and MJ, and bit by bit they become your friends also. To add the cherry on the cake, your parents were so happy with your sudden switch in mood that they let you transfer to Midtown High so you could attend with Peter and friends.

It really was perfect. Almost too perfect, and you had a constant sense of deja vu anytime you were with Peter. You pushed it over to the side, however, as you were so desperate to finally be happy. Your connection with Peter was so unique, you two became so close so quickly, it was only natural that you developed a crush on him.

By now, you had decided to live for you, to live to be happy. And in this case, being happy meant confessing your crush to Peter, no matter the outcome, cause no secrets right?

The plan was simple, get ice cream at Peter and your’s favorite place and while walking home, confess.

That day came, and you were so nervous, hoping that everything would go to plan. And for the most part, it did.

You two had just gotten ice cream, and luckily there wasn’t much of line, which was really unusual for that shop.

And there you were all of a sudden, walking right next to Peter. You counted the number of steps until you reached your lucky number, because on that step you were going to confess.

But then the scream happened.

It was this foggy scream that seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, the building shook, and people all around you ran.

It hurt your head especially as the scream seemed to be coming from next to your ear, but at the same time from the other side of the city. You both were worried about your safety, and followed suit of everyone else and ran to Peter’s house for shelter.

But at least your life was perfect as you still ended up confessing your crush to Peter when you arrived at your house. You were genuinely nervous and had butterflies in your stomach. Those only intensified in nervousness when he smiled at you.

It was a genuine, happy smile, for it turns out his feelings were mutual, and as he admitted that, you couldn’t help but notice that something was off.

But again, you chose to ignore it, as your best friend was now your boyfriend, life was perfect.

Now a month had gone by, and you had noticed a gradual change in Peter. Sure people change, but a small nagging part inside you couldn’t help but wonder if he was changing like your friends did, if he was changing to betray and hurt you.

You hated that your insecurity got so bad that you had to ask him, but you still did.

“What's up?” you said, waving your hand in front of his face to grab his attention.

“What do you mean?” Peter replied, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

“Peter.”

“Y/N” he teased back.

“Not funny,” you teased, pushing his side playfully before turning serious again, “you’ve been acting weird since we started dating.”

“No, I haven’t!” Peter said, and his whole mannerism seemed to scream SECRET! to you

“You know how I feel about secrets” you whispered, giving him a slight puppy eyes.

At that, Peter put his head down defeated, “I-“ he said, not even having the words.

“You don’t have to tell me if it’s good, just promise me it is” you tried comforting, hoping in your heart the secret was for a good surprise. But all you got was silence in return, confirming your initial thought, “It’s not is it?”

“Y/N im sorr” Peter started, before you cut him off.

“Forget it, just tell me, what is it?”

“You won’t want to hear this” Peter warned, giving up on denying the existence of the secret.

“But I have to hear it” you argued back, you need some resolution, so you could move on with your life and not have any regrets from this moment, from this relationship.

“No, you don’t.”

“YES I DO PETER, I CAN’T HANDLE BEING HURT WITHOUT KNOWING IT” you screamed back at him, unable to hold it in anymore.

Peter sighed, whispering to himself, "but now you are going to be hurt because you know.”

“Peter just tell me” you begged, putting your hand on his knee.

He brushed it off, asking “are you sure?”

“100%.”

Peter looked at you, as if searching your face and savoring the image of it before saying “wake up.”

“What?” you asked, unsure if you heard him.

“This isn’t real,” he said almost robotically, confusing you more.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’ve been dreaming since what happened with your friends, since you met me” Peter tried explaining again.

“How?” you asked, unsure of how this could be a dream, it all seemed so real, so perfect. But then again, dreams are perfect.

“You know the scream a month ago?” Peter reminded as you nodded in confirmation before he continued, “It was someone yelling near you, yelling your name.”

“It was just a vague sound,” you said, unsure how your name could even be heard in what was just a loud screech and rumble of the world.

“But it reminded me that this is just in your head.”

“But how did you know?” you asked, wondering if you were just stupid or oblivious.

“I’m part of you, part of your subconscious” Peter explained. You guess that made sense. After all, if you were in a dream, your subconscious would know, while you, your conscious might not necessarily know.

“Now wake up” Peter ordered. You looked in his face one more time, trying to memorize it so you could bring his face and the memories with you into the real world.

As he and the rest of your perfect life faded to oblivion, you whispered in the void “I wish you hadn’t told me.”

You closed your eyes, and when you opened them again, you were greeted with loud sounds and lights. The sounds and sights of a hospital to be exact. There was a constant beeping of your heart monitor, and at the sight of you waking, the room was filled with nurses and doctors.

The fatigue set in again, and you went back to sleep, a dreamless sleep. As you met with your parents and reunited, you learned the hard truth. When you were with your friends, you were so shocked at finding out their true feelings about you, that you had froze in the middle of the road, hit by a car.

When your parents finally left so you could digest everything, you were left staring out the window, hoping in your heart if Peter could be out there.

Taglist: @djjffkd, @pallored, @your-daily-dose-of-fangirl, @penisprkr, @tuttigunner, @doihavetobesocialrightnow, @supernatural-strangerthings-1980, @lovelyh0lland, @sprinklemetommy, @marvelsmagics, @yoinksholland, @emocultistrat, @moonkissedtom, @hello-love06, @embrace-themagic, @fireboltrose7559, @ourdeliciousfoxcollector, @avenged-nightmare, @adventures-of-sabrina, @christmas-marvel, @tom-hollands-eyelash, @fallinallintom, @peppermintandparker, @zenithzendaya, @celestialparker, @oh-dear-tommy, @paradoxparker, @futzingclint, @tony-starks-ego, @tommy-braccoli, @blackberryfaith*, @laurfangirl424, @rrainydayy, @galaxy-parker, @mischiefmanaged49, @spideypeach, @scottyisthatyou, @peterspanish, @fufaation15*, @theprincesofasgard, @nasa-parker, @v0idbella @fuckwaad, @helloiknowimcrazy, @buresque, @book-of-blue004m* @bringer-of-chaos, @what-is-yeet, @lubrielx, @ticklishrainbow*, @ukulele-tea-and-ocean, @adorablyparker, @onlyfangirlsunderstand, @irnbby, @natashasnight, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @fandom-fangirl07, @dreamerjewels

*unable to tag

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker one shot #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #spiderman #spiderman imagine #spider-man #spider-man imagine #spider man #spider man imagine #the avengers #the avengers imagine #avengers #avengers imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #mcu #laineyxsannawc

152 notes · View notes

usemeasabadexample · 5 years

Text

Merry Pitchmas!

Merry Pitchmas @acabloe

I’m your secret santa! I hope you had a great holiday and I really hope you enjoy the story! (Sorry I’m a little late. Holidays...ugh *insert dramatic eye roll*)

Bechloe Fanfic: Fine

Summary: AU where Beca is a music producer and Chloe is a teacher. Beca needs community service hours and gets hooked up with Chloe but they really don’t hit it off right away.

“A club seems like a really unprofessional way to meet someone I'm going to be working with Amy.” Beca shoots a dirty look to someone who brushes past her a little too aggressively.

“Unprofessional?” Amy pauses as the bouncer waves them through the door. “Seems a bit unprofessional that you punched a guy in the face because of creative differences.” She issues air quotes to the last two words and gives Beca a pointed look before turning back around to make her way to the VIP area.

“Dude.” Beca puts a spring in her step to catch up to the blonde. “That guy was a dick. He had no idea-”

Amy's hand in her face cuts Beca off mid-sentence and mid-step. “Beca, please.” She doesn't finish her thought. Instead, Amy plops down onto the sofa inside of the roped off area.

Beca doesn't understand what that's supposed to mean and shrugs her shoulders as she sits in a chair next to Amy. “What?”

Amy glares. “No dick talk. I'm having a dry spell worse than an Australian desert in the middle of summer.”

Beca immediately regrets asking for clarification. She grimaces. “Wait, is that why you picked a club for this meeting tonight?”

Amy is still glaring at her and Beca wants to sink back into the chair and disappear because she knows she isn't prepared for whatever Amy is going to say.

She needs a drink before she can participate in this type of conversation.

“I chose this place because I know the only way to get you to socialize like a normal human being is to get a few drinks in you.”

Beca starts to object but almost on cue, the waitress drops by and places a tray of bottles down onto the table in front of them. She mentions that the owner will be by shortly and Amy starts pouring drinks before the girl is even gone.

“Amy-” Beca tries again but it's to no avail. Amy clearly isn't having it tonight.

“No. You're lucky you got off with community service and a payout after fisting that guy in the face. These people need to like you so that your service goes well and they give good reports to the judge.” Amy passes her a drink. “Now shut up. Drink. And act like a person. I know it's hard but do it.”

Beca rolls her eyes because she knows Amy’s right but that doesn't mean she has to like it.

She is thankful though.

For all of her quirks, Amy has always been a kind and loyal friend. She tells it like it is and she always has Beca's back. No matter what. No questions asked. It's been that way since college and when Beca moved to L.A. to work for the record label, she knew she wanted her best friend with her. The blonde didn't hesitate to take a position as Beca's assistant and they left Georgia to start a new phase of life together. That was five years ago and they've been thriving ever since. Beca considers herself a pretty successful music producer. She's worked with everyone from Katy Perry to Lil’ Wayne to Michael Buble. It's been wild but it's everything she's always dreamed about.

Until she punched that piece of shit a few weeks ago everything was perfect.

She thinks about it for the millionth time as she sips her drink. His music sucked and he was a complete dick to every woman in the studio.

A dirty comment about an intern finally forced her off the deep end and nothing in the world could have stopped her fist from connecting with his worm-looking face. Community service be damned. Fuck that dude.

She's glad she socked him.

“What's up bitches?!” Her thoughts are put on hold as the owner of the club, who is also one of their best friends, appears. Beca hops up to give the woman a hug but she gets side-swiped by Amy and almost topples over.

“Amy!” Beca winces as she regains her balance.

“What?” Amy looks like she doesn't understand what the problem is and Beca isn't surprised.

Cynthia Rose laughs loudly and peels herself from Amy to pat Beca on the back. “Hey girl. You meeting your new work buddy tonight?”

Beca nods.

“I'll get shots.”

“No.” Beca grabs her shoulder. “That's okay CR. I'll get them. You keep an eye on Amy.”

Cynthia Rose laughs and Amy furrows her eyebrows but then grins almost immediately. “That's fine. Look at my sexy fat ass all you like but don't touch.” She winks and Beca rolls her eyes before she heads to the bar.

Leaving the two of them alone together is never a good idea but what can she do?

Thankfully, the bar isn't overwhelmingly crowded yet so she slips between two people and orders a round of shots. She has a feeling she's going to need more than one to get through the night but this is a good place to start.

The bartender drops the shots down and winks at Beca as she pays. She smiles back because, why not? The girl is pretty enough and she hasn't dated anyone in a while. Harmless flirting could be fun. She picks up a shot and just as she opens her mouth to say something she's sure will be witty, someone bumps her from behind.

Her shot goes flying, spilling down the front of her shirt, and she feels something wet dripping down her back as well. She immediately spins around to give whoever it is a piece of her mind. “Dude! What the fuck?”

The mystery woman giggles in response and Beca bristles because seriously. What. The. Fuck? This isn't funny.

“Are you seriously laughing right now?”

The woman rolls her lips together. Presumably to stop herself from laughing but she's still grinning. “Sorry!” She reaches out and lays a hand on Beca's shoulder. “I wasn't paying attention.”

Beca glares at the hand resting on her arm then looks back to the stranger and a few things catch her eye.

The first being the most insane set of blue eyes that she's ever seen. Even in the darkness of the club, they're practically glowing.

The second thing she notices is the woman's flaming red hair. It's so vivid and it looks so soft that Beca almost reaches out and touches it without thinking. Stopping herself only when the redhead squeezes her shoulder. A brilliant smile forms on the woman's face and Beca closes her gaping mouth. She lets her anger take over again because how dare this gorgeous woman try and charm her.

Reasonably, Beca knows the woman hasn't done anything to be purposefully charming but that's neither here nor there. The point is, she's all wet and she doesn't like it.

“Well, maybe you should start like, paying attention or something.” The words don't come out as venomous as she'd planned and it only serves to further annoy her.

The redhead's eyes widen and Beca can admit that she actually looks a little scary. A little crazy. Intimidating almost.

“I can replace your drink.” The woman runs her hand from Beca's shoulder down across her back. “And your shirt is hardly wet.” She winks. “I think you'll survive.”

Beca shivers but recovers quickly and tries move out of reach. It's difficult though because the crowd at the bar is growing by the minute. “Yeah, no. I think you've done enough already. Just-” she tries to duck away from the redhead again but they just keep bumping into each other, “can you just move out of the way? For fucks sake!” She blows out a frustrated breath and glares at the infuriating stranger.

The woman doesn't smile back this time. She looks just as irritated and has the nerve to roll her eyes before stepping to the side to allow Beca through. “Gladly.”

Beca gives one last dirty look before bursting through, almost shoulder checking the woman in the process, and making her way back to her friends.

-----

“Shortstack! Where have you been?!” Amy already seems tipsy. “Where are the shots? We have company!”

Beca huffs because in her haste to get away from the redhead, she forgot to grab their shots. She shakes her head. Frustrated. And gives Amy a look that says “don't ask.”

She looks around and notices her best friend, Stacie as well as her co-worker, Lilly have arrived. Her lawyer, Aubrey, is also there with a few people she doesn't recognize. She assumes one of them will be her new work partner at the community center where she'll be completing her service hours. Aubrey's the one who set the whole thing up. Said she had a friend who was a teacher and also worked with kids at an after school music program. Beca seethed at the thought of having to work with a bunch of kids but whatever. She had to do something.

She takes a deep breath and walks over to Stacie. “What's up Stace?”

“Hey Shorty!” Stacie flings her arms around Beca and plants a sloppy kiss on her cheek from which Beca immediately recoils.

“Gross.” She wipes her cheek and Stacie winks.

“Beca!” Amy is literally screaming at this point. “Where are the shots?!”

“Oh my god! Amy!” Beca whips around to face the blonde. “Chill the fuck out.”

“Well, where are they?!” Amy taps her foot. “And why is your shirt a mess?” Amy leans in and talks out of the side of her mouth. “Bathroom quickie?”

Beca feels her blood pressure rising.

Why did she agree to this? Why does she agree to anything ever? “Amy no. Just...shut up. Some klutz ran up behind me and spilled my shot.” She gestures to her back. “She spilled her drink down my back too. Fucking clumsy ass redhead.”

She starts shaking her shirt out for dramatic effect when she hears someone clearing their throat behind her.

Amy pulls a face, baring all of her teeth and looking extremely uncomfortable and Beca doesn't understand what's happening until she turns around to address the continued throat clearing and sees that it's the redhead from the bar standing behind her. She's carrying a tray of shots and looks far too smug for Beca's liking.

“You were saying?” The woman brushes past Beca and drops the tray onto the table.

She thinks she sees Aubrey give the redhead some kind of look but she doesn't dwell on it. She's too stunned for the moment. And certainly not by this woman's beauty, she assures herself.

No way.

She convinces herself it's because of her unexpected and abrupt appearance.

She snaps herself out of it.

“I said,” she steps closer, “you're clumsy.”

“Mmm nope.” The redhead smiles and shakes her head. Unaffected by the insult apparently. “I'm Chloe.”

And Beca sees stars she's so perturbed. She opens her mouth to lay into this girl but Aubrey steps in. “Beca.” Her tone a warning. “This is Chloe. She runs the after school program where you'll be working for the next few weeks.”

Well, fuck.

Of course.

Beca grits her teeth and fakes a smile. “Fucking great.” She mumbles.

“I'm sorry.” Chloe steps closer. “What was that?”

And Beca doesn't back down. “I said,” she steps closer too, “fucking,” closer again, “great.”

Everyone else looks around at each other with worried expressions.

This is going well so far.

Chloe raises an eyebrow. “Mhmm. I thought that's what you said.” She turns around and grabs two shots from the tray, handing one to Beca, who takes it unwillingly. Skeptically.

“Cheers. Try to stay out of my way this time.” Chloe clinks their glasses and downs her shot. Then she winks and walks away before Beca can formulate any type of response and jesus christ.

“Fine!” Beca tries to yell but it doesn't come out nearly as loud as she'd like. She feels rage boiling up inside of her but she can't bring herself to act on it because there's something stopping her. She doesn't understand what's happening so she takes her shot and avoids Chloe for the rest of the night.

-----

“What was with you and Red last night?” Amy parks herself at the counter in Beca's kitchen.

“I think it's called sexual tension.” Stacie hollers from her place on the sofa and they can all hear Cynthia Rose laughing from the bathroom.

Beca slams the refrigerator shut and spins on her heels. “Shut the fuck up. There's no tension. She's just,” Beca huffs, “I can't believe I have to work with her.”

“Because you're afraid you'll attack her?” Amy prods. “Sexually?”

Beca responds by tossing a towel at the blonde and stomping off to her room as everyone else has a good laugh.

-----

Day 1 - Community Center

“What do you mean this is the equipment we'll be using? This is a boom box that uses cassette tapes Chloe.” Beca gestures to the offensive item. “And your instruments might as well be upside-down buckets with sticks and tissue boxes with rubber bands. What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?”

Chloe rolls her eyes. “First of all, language. There will be children here soon. You can't talk like that in front of them.” The redhead stops and glares and Beca shrugs. “Beca.”

“Language. Yeah. I got it.”

“And second, aren't you the self-proclaimed music production expert?” Chloe hands her a cassette tape. “Figure it out.”

Beca grabs the tape but Chloe doesn't let go. “What's your problem?”

Chloe uses the tape to pull Beca closer until they're only inches apart and Beca holds her breath because the redhead’s gaze is piercing. “You.”

Beca feels a fire ignite somewhere inside of her and she holds the gaze. Determined not to break first. She feels Chloe tighten her grip where their hands are touching and Beca gives the tape a tug.

Chloe still doesn't let go and their faces are so close that Beca can almost feel the other woman's breath on her face. “Fine.”

“Fine.” Chloe shrugs and Beca wants to smack her for acting like she isn't bothered.

“Hey Ms. Beale!”

Chloe diverts her eyes to the interruption and Beca uses the opportunity to yank the tape away. She gets a sideways glance from Chloe that says “this isn't over” but ignores it. Silently congratulating herself for holding strong.

“Hey guys!” Chloe enthusiastically greets the students filing in and Beca plasters on a fake smile for the rest of the afternoon.

-----

Day 14 - Community Center

“I don't understand why you won't let me bring my equipment here.” Beca rubs her temples as her and Chloe sit at a tiny table in the back of the community center.

“How many times do I have to tell you? That's not what this is about.” Chloe pushes her chair back and it screeches against the floor.

Beca cringes at the sound. She's pretty sure Chloe does it on purpose because she knows it annoys her. “I'm not saying bring in a whole studio. Just a few things so the kids can create and record on something that doesn't sound like it's from the 30’s.”

“Beca…”

“Chloe…” Beca's tone is purposefully mocking.

Chloe stands and plants her hands on her hips. “I said what I said and the answer is still no.”

Beca stands too, making sure to scrape her chair across the floor as she does. She sees Chloe flinch briefly but she's clearly determined not to let Beca get to her. “And I said what I said and I stand by it. This would be better with more modern technology.”

Chloe tilts her head to the side and Beca watches her hair tumble down around her shoulder. The light bounces off of it and she momentarily feels blinded. She crosses her arms over her chest protectively. Like she's afraid Chloe can read her mind in the moment even though she knows that’s silly.

“No.” Chloe deadpans and starts to walk past her with purpose, not stopping until she's well out of Beca's view. “And stop staring at my hair creep.”

Beca chokes on air and sputters for a good five minutes after Chloe's gone, wondering if Chloe actually can read her mind.

“Fine.” She whispers to herself.

-----

Day 28 - A Park Near the Community Center

“For fucks sake! I thought a little fresh air would clear up your attitude.” Chloe stands up from the bench they're sharing. “Clearly I was wrong.”

“It hasn't worked for you either!” Beca shouts. Not caring that people are starting to stare.

Chloe glares. “I'm done for today.”

Beca throws her hands up. “Fine. Me too.”

“Fine!” Chloe yells before stomping away.

-----

Day 35 - Beca's House

They've been sitting in her studio for the better part of the afternoon bickering about how to arrange the tracks that the kids at the center have been working on.

Chloe finally agreed, after a particularly heated argument one day which ended with Chloe basically pinning Beca to a wall, to let Beca make minor tweaks on her equipment at home. Chloe, of course, only agreed on the grounds that she be present for such tasks and Beca agreed. Almost eagerly.

She's still scratching her head over that reaction but whatever. Here they are.

“If I have to say this one more time, I swear I'll tell that judge to lock you up!” Chloe jumps up and Beca reaches out and grabs her wrist as she tries to walk away. The redhead spins around and throws down an intense stare.

She doesn't pull away though.

“Chloe!” Beca puts her free hand to her forehead and rubs. “Just fucking hear me out!”

The redhead holds steady for a moment but Beca sees her stern look beginning to fade. She gives Beca an expectant look which she assumes means that she can continue. “Just...let me bring in a few things. It'll give the the kids some experience working with the equipment and everything will sound so much better.”

Chloe takes a deep breath and averts her eyes.

“I promise the technology won't ruin the experience.”

Beca watches Chloe's resolve begin to fade. She's gotten pretty good at reading the redhead after working together so closely for the past few weeks.

She reluctantly admits to herself that Chloe has gotten pretty good at reading her too.

“Fine.”

Beca smirks. “Fine.”

“Fine!”

“Okay fine!”

They stand there staring at one another, neither one daring to look away (why do they always do this?!) and Beca feels an energy flowing through her that makes her want to do something reckless and wild. Like she's unhinged. She wants to scream or tear something apart or combust.

And she's still holding onto Chloe.

And Chloe still isn't moving away.

And she can see Chloe's chest heaving with every breath she takes and Beca finally snaps.

She yanks Chloe to her and they collide with enough force to send them toppling backwards into the wall. Beca's head smacks into it but she doesn't care because Chloe's mouth clashes with hers and it's a mess of teeth and tongues and enough pent up tension to sink a fleet of ships.

Strong hands grip Beca's sides and breeze underneath her shirt without hesitation. She feels the distinct press of nails sinking into her skin and she can't help the sound that escapes her throat. Her hands thread through Chloe's hair and fist as their tongues meet again and again. Finding a rhythm that is steadily scorching Beca from the inside out.

“Beca.” Chloe whispers her name and Beca feels everything inside of her crumble because she's never heard the redhead say her name like that before.

“Fuck.” She speaks directly into Chloe's mouth and they hover for only a moment longer before crashing back together.

Beca pushes Chloe backwards towards the small sofa and spins them around when she hears Chloe's legs hit the front of it. She sits and pulls Chloe down with her until the redhead is straddling her lap. Their mouths never part and Beca sinks her hands into the back pockets of Chloe's jeans and squeezes.

Chloe moans and pushes further into Beca, her hands gripping the brunette's shirt so tightly that Beca's afraid it might rip.

Hopes it does.

Chloe nips at her lower lip, drawing it out before letting it go and Beca wants to scream it feels so good. “Chloe, fuck.”

“Yeah.” Chloe breathes out, grinding down into Beca's lap. “I'm trying.”

Beca's entire body clenches and she bites down on Chloe's collarbone. “Bed. Now.” She pants the demand into Chloe's chest. Licking and biting as Chloe continues to move against her.

“Don't...fuck...don't tell me what to do.”

Beca pulls back. Eyes sparkling with mischief as she looks up at a disheveled Chloe. She looks devastatingly beautiful.

“Are you still being difficult? Really?” She can't help the smile that takes over her face as Chloe smirks back down at her.

“Yes.” She leans down and presses her lips to Beca's. Once. Twice. Three times. “But let's go to bed anyway.” The words are spoken against Beca's lips.

Beca finds the strength to roll her eyes. “Fine.”

“Fine.” Chloe's eyes light up and she leans in for more. And Beca’s more than fine with that.

#merry pitchmas 2018 #bechloe #pitch perfect #bechloe fanfiction #bechloe christmas

106 notes · View notes

rickktish · 5 years

Text

Sometimes it occurs to me

just how much my family just... does because of my dad’s autism, and how it translates into things we just do with my own.

My dad wanders off in stores. My mom rolls her eyes sometimes when she’s trying to get his opinion on something and can’t find him, but other than that we just expect it, and account for it. My brother and I joke that he’s gone off into another dimension to fight vampire zombie pirate ninjas.

My dad will, on the rare occasion he feels he’s done enough work and enough housework to stay on top of it and enough research to understand the current advancements in his field, simply wander into the TV room and turn on a game, and whoever is interested will casually drift in there and sit down and quietly watch. Or he’ll start a movie and we’ll just... join him. Because he uses whatever media he’s putting on as an invitation to spend time in each others’ presence without having to talk or discuss anything, just enjoy being together. It has been that way my entire life.

My dad loves biology and computer science. We have a box garden in our back yard, because growing things in clay is hard and we had to get better dirt, which we don’t care for as often as we should but when we do, my dad will infodump on us the entire time we’re out there about the structure of plant cells or how Darwin’s theory actually works or why genetics work the way they do. My high school biology teacher refused to help me understand anything she was teaching and once exclaimed “am I speaking Chinese?!” when I visited her after school to request clarification on something I didn’t understand, throwing her hands in the air and refusing to explain it to me. I passed that class because my dad was always willing to tweak the language he used in his info dumping to help me get it.

I just... never thought of these behaviors as autistic. Because in my family they were normal. They’re just things my dad does, things I’ve never known him not to do, so why should I be surprised when he wanders out of the room in the middle of a conversation? Why should I be surprised when he goes out and tinkers in the garage with no explanation? I don’t think my mom even notices when she’s reading my dad’s mind anymore because she knows that when he goes out to the garden, he has a plan. When he pulls out this device or that tool, he has something in mind which he probably brought up months ago and is now finding time to do.

And it’s not all the same, but it’s always been really similar for me?

Like, the first thing my mom asked me to do every day she picked me up from school was info dump on her. And I would talk the entire way home about whatever interested me that day, usually something linguistic or historical, and she’d listen and ask interested questions and follow my random jumps to other topics just fine. And I never thought it was anything weird to talk the entire way home about one verb form in French or a single person in history because she never made me feel like it was anything but normal. She actively tries to have just enough base knowledge to follow along in whatever thing my dad and I have taken interest in; she was a computer science major with him for a little while before she went into math instead and can follow the ideas behind my dad’s tech-related rambles. She’s terrible at spelling because of an auditory processing disorder and being nearly deaf in one ear, but she can follow along on my rants about the vital differences between two similar suffixes that convey deep, religious meaning to me about the nature of the words they make. When the rest of us are too distracted by what we’re doing in the garden to continue to prompt my dad, she’ll lean back and ask for clarification on a point, or ask if something is similar to what he’s been talking about, and then he’s off again.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that my mom does really well with autistic people and never made me feel anything but normal, partly because to me, my dad was normal. And I could never understand in school why other people didn’t think the way I did, and my teachers never quite understood why I would randomly start info dumping in class (partly because almost none of them ever thought I might be autistic), but my mom got it. And as rough as we had it for several years, especially when I was younger, I’m really grateful to her for normalizing my dad’s autistic behaviors in our home. Because I would be a very different person if my mom had said “shut up” instead of “this needs my attention right now, can I listen to you in just a minute?’ or “stop wandering off” instead of “hey, can you get x from the other side of the store if you happen that way?” or “Stop. Be still.” instead of “Can you try to stay a little bit closer? It’s hard for me to understand when your back is turned toward me, especially if you’re farther away.”

I just think about the fact that I never even heard that it was normal to look people in the eye when you talk to them until I was in middle school and read a book about a girl with Asperger's. I think about the fact that instead of saying “look at me” my mom said “If you look at people’s mouths when they talk you can understand them better” and instead of telling me not to stim by chewing on my arms because it was gross or weird she explained that she was worried about the bruises I was leaving because she didn’t like seeing me hurt. She gently scolded me when I took up nail-biting instead and continued to express mild concern but no outright control of “you cannot do this” for years until I finally decided to break the habit in middle school because I found other ways to stim. She understood when I said I hated the feeling of cutting my nails and rather than only forcing me to do it anyway she helped me soak them beforehand so the skin could adjust more easily to being newly exposed to air-- which was really important, because the awful sensation of adjusting meant playing my violin got hard at times and she helped with that.

I think about how normal Autism is at my house and I can hardly believe it now. Because my mom chose to marry an autistic man and chose to learn to understand his behaviors instead of rejecting them. And they both chose to work to understand and put up with each other, my mom with my dad’s emotional distance and small expressive range due to years of trying to numb his extreme emotions, and my dad with my mom’s temper tantrums when she would forget that she wasn’t always the victim of every circumstance.

They each actively and independently chose to do whatever it took to be able to live with each other forever. And that meant accepting autism as a way of thinking, as a way of being, and that meant accepting that mood disorders and childhood trauma continue to affect life long after you’ve left your parents house, and that meant accepting that everyone needs a therapist sometimes and it doesn’t mean you’re broken it just means you’re lacking certain skills.

And now that I’m at college? Living with roommates who are very neurotypical and have never had to deal with someone with autism and selective mutism before? My mom continues to remind me that I can learn things, I can do things to make my life better. I told her I had nowhere to be alone; she told me it was okay to move my mattress under my bed and drape my spare sheets over the top. I have a cave now. My roommates have no idea why and give me weird looks every now and then, but don’t say anything. She reminded me it’s okay to have needs, even odd ones related to my autism. I complained to her at my grandfather’s funeral that I had no idea how to talk to people, I don’t understand the purpose of small talk, and people greeting each other on campus as they pass is the bane of my existence because I can’t speak fast enough to still be facing them when I reply and I thought people were supposed to face each other when they talk. She said I should ask one of the counselors at the school to be my social coach so I can ask what normal interaction looks like and how to behave and respond in a socially acceptable manner. So I did. And I have a better grasp now, because while he thought it was a little odd, he answered my questions and helped me understand.

I guess all I’m really trying to say is that in my life, autism has always been the norm. And even now that I’m away from home-- so very, very far away from home-- my mom is working to make sure that I know it’s okay for it to continue to be the norm. And that’s really made all the difference.

#rick's rambles #rick's mom #rick's dad #autism #normalization

21 notes · View notes

occasionalfics · 6 years

Text

Sugar || p.5

check out this awesome moodboard by @pointbreak-odinson!!! thank you syd!

Summary: Y/N, a plus size artist from Malibu, isn’t expecting much to happen at her Uncle Phil’s retirement party. What she never expected was for her cousin Daisy to introduce her to the tallest, most beautiful man she’s ever seen. Or that he’d want to spend any time with her at all, let alone date her.

A/N: So like a lot happens in this chapter. Some of it was gonna get cut but you know what? This whole fic isn’t that long to begin with and it’s super cute imo so I kept it ALL. You’re welcome. And that GQ interview? I live for it.

Warnings: Mostly fluff, insecurities about body image and financial situations, a dabble into smut here and there, generally just a good little romp. Oh, and cursing.

Words: 5,671

Unlike with some of your other relationships, sex with Thor changed only one thing: how much you trusted him. You’d never been so comfortable and relaxed with another partner, so sex came easily. You had few hesitations, and Thor seemed to enjoy himself just as much as you did.

So you felt a little bit better about going to Sweden.

You left the planning up to Thor and the yelling up to Daisy. She screamed for twenty minutes straight about how lucky you were, how much she wished she hadn’t passed up the opportunity to date Thor a few years back, and how much she was just joking about that. Then she spent another ten minutes telling you about the date she’d gone on with Grant, and you pretended to listen while you painted.

You and Thor managed to go on one last date before the wedding. You saw a movie, got dinner to take back to his place after, then hung out and talked. You asked him about his father’s company again, just trying to be casual, and he surprised you with his answer.

“My father learned his trade from his father. Odin wanted me to take the family business when he passed. It was never really what I wanted, but Loki didn’t, either, so I did it.”

“You did say your dad was a better realtor than you,” you mentioned, attempting to be playful. Even though you wondered what had happened between him and Loki more than you had before.

Thor at least seemed to go along with your joke as he chuckled. “He definitely was. And he knew I didn’t want what he did, but he still made sure I’d know how to take his place when I had to anyway.” You almost asked him what he meant by that, but after a short pause, it was like he knew you wanted clarification. “Odin was always very big on making sure the people that depended on his leadership could go home at the end of the day and not worry about a thing. Even the cleaning staff gets full benefits, a living wage, bonuses… Took me a long time to realize everyone that worked for him wanted to. I just wish I’d seen it before he passed.”

For a minute, you wondered how you’d found the single most perfect rich boyfriend-type-person. You didn’t focus on the lack of label on your relationship just then. You just thought that Thor carrying on his father’s legacy in that way was...something special, for sure.

“And you did all of this for your brother?” you asked.

He nodded, not meeting your eyes briefly. “He hasn’t really been himself since our mum passed.”

You pushed hair around his ear and felt something warm within you. “So we’re both orphans then,” you whispered, only really recognizing the truth of your words the second they were out. Your throat clogged quickly when you thought of your parents, but if he was willing to tell you about his, you wanted to talk about yours, too.

Thor nodded. “Seems so. But at least you’ve got your Uncle Phil, right?”

You nodded, too. “He’s as much a dad to me as my own father was. Uncle Phil’s kind of the best.” Still, you sighed. “But I do miss my parents. Often.”

He slid across the bed closer to you, pushing himself down so his ear fell on your shoulder. His arms went around your middle and he asked, “Tell me about them?”

What could you do but oblige and run your fingers over his scalp?

“My mom was a school teacher. I used to draw things for her classrooms, which was really how I fell in love with art,” you told him. “My dad was Phil’s adopted brother. They shared everything except an employer, because my dad was an engineer at Stark Industries for twenty years before their accident. Phil used to tell me Mr. Stark insisted on setting my parents up at some charity event for educators, and the rest is history.” You shrugged and shut your eyes, not that Thor would be able to see. “Except for the accident. I was staying with Daisy and Uncle Phil one weekend when they went to a concert in LA. They were driving back when they were driven off the road.”

You hadn’t stopped abruptly, or at least you didn’t mean to. But that was the end of the story. It was all you knew. You didn’t have any flashbacks or memories of their deaths because you hadn’t been there, and despite the therapy you’d gone through as a teenager, you had never really gotten over the idea that you might’ve changed something if you’d gone with them to the concert. It wasn’t something you blamed yourself for, but it was still a thought you had when you thought about your parents.

More than that, though, you knew that you didn’t have to tell Thor as much as you had. Eventually you might have, but so early on? It wasn’t something you normally did. But, as you sat with him, you didn’t care. You wanted to tell him.

He quietly said, “Daisy and Phil never told me he had an adopted brother.”

You shrugged. “Because it doesn’t really change our family, I guess. My dad was his brother, no matter who they shared genes with.” You could remember the crease in your father’s eyes when he smiled, especially as he laughed at Phil’s dry humor with the shake of his head. They were brothers through and through, no matter what.

Since the funeral, you’d always thought you and Phil had a mutual understanding. You’d both lost pieces of yourselves, maybe even the same piece, the day of the accident. Phil and Melinda would’ve taken you in and cared for you anyway, but there’d always been a little voice in the back of your head that told you that Phil loved you as much as he loved Daisy because you were what was left of his brother.

But you didn’t say as much to Thor. That was all better saved for another day.

“Well, Stark does fancy himself a good matchmaker. Sometimes his schemes work, sometimes they don’t,” Thor said, seemingly out of nowhere. When you looked at him, he had a small but almost sad smile on his face. You’d seen smiles like that before - the pitying kind from people either too concerned with how you looked or too concerned with your parents. You’ve tried not to let it get to you for as long as you knew what smiles like that meant.

“Let me guess, Stark was your father’s business partner?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Mine, actually. Odin wasn’t overly fond of Tony Stark’s particular brand of humor, but I don’t mind it. Sometimes.” He shrugged, glossing over using his dad’s name instead of a title. “But he’s got a rather large home improvement team that I like to work with when I design houses. And his wife’s quite good at planning parties.”

“Isn’t she also, like, the head of the company?” you asked, remembering something about a long, skinny woman with strawberry blonde hair that your father may or may not have mentioned a few times.

“I believe so,” Thor said. “But I’ve only been able to meet her at the extravagant events she personally plans.”

You sat a little straighter at that and nodded. “Speaking of extravagant events,” you started, “I found a dress.”

His smile became genuine, and he sat up, too, his arms loosening around you. “Great! Can I see it?”

You nodded and pulled your phone out of your back pocket, pulling up the shipping confirmation on the dress you’d already purchased. You hadn’t had the chance to tell him you’d gone ahead, with Daisy’s affirmation, and treated yourself. He glanced at your screen and his face fell into a scrunched expression.

“You already bought it?” he asked, looking at the generic confirmation message. You couldn’t tell if he was just confused or offended, but you were hoping for the former.

“I had a coupon code,” you said. “And it wasn’t that expensive to begin with. But...you think it’s okay? Like is it dress-y enough?”

He didn’t look up at you, but you watched his face. He gripped the phone, so you let go of it, and he brought it closer to his face. For a few quiet seconds, he examined the image of the dress, even clicking on it to go to the listing on the website. From there, he pinched the screen to zoom in and look at the details. When he didn’t really react at first, you felt your face fall with your stomach.

You wanted his approval. It was still weird thinking that you’d be going to Sweden with a guy you’d just started dating for his ex’s wedding. You wanted some part of this to be normal, and if that meant that you wanted Thor to like the dress you’d picked, then so be it. But his expression was unreadable at first, and it almost sent you into a panic.

He eventually nodded. His smile returned - if slowly - and you felt you could breathe again. When his eyes returned to you, you thought of the canvas back at Phil’s house, but only for a second. This wasn’t about that - although you did want to talk to him about possibly displaying the painting in the empty space between his bedroom and the workout room he’d made for himself.

“It’s lovely,” he said. “I can’t wait to see you in it.” His eyes seemed to sparkle, and everything inside of you that was ready to panic a moment ago righted itself. You felt like you could relax and smile back finally.

“I’m glad you like it,” you said, at once pleased and a little bashful.

He planted a kiss on your forehead before handing your phone back to you. “I do, and now I’m gonna have to find a tie to match it.”

For days before you were going to Sweden, you kept your cool at work and freaked out when you got home. You kept asking Daisy the same questions: What if this ruins everything? It’s so fast - what if it’s too fast? What if a 10-12 hour flight is the end of it all? And how could you think going to Thor’s ex’s wedding was okay? Even if they were still friends?

Daisy sat you down every night that you didn’t spend at Thor’s, hands on your shoulders and a stern look on her face, and reminded you of things you already knew: That Thor really, genuinely liked you; that he wouldn’t have asked you to fly internationally with him for a wedding if he didn’t want to spend the time with you; that he wouldn’t be paying for the flight if he didn’t want to; and that this trip might test your relationship at whatever stage it was at, but you just had to be careful and conscientious. You could make this work, and if it did, maybe it would be the best thing to happen to you.

“You keep forgetting how much you deserve something like this, (Y/N),” she said the night before you left. “You’re, like, the single most hardworking person I’ve ever met. And I don’t just mean at work - you put effort into every little thing you do and you barely ever reward yourself for it. I think you’re crazy for never giving yourself a break. So take one.”

Somehow, she’d said exactly the right thing.

You kept her advice close as you hugged her, Uncle Phil, and Aunt Melinda the next morning before you drove to Thor’s house. You were leaving your car with his Range Rover while you split the cabs to and from both airports. Before you got in your car, Uncle Phil held the driver’s door open for you and steadied you with a hand to your shoulder.

“If he tries anything funny, remember I have connections. I can get out there in half a day,” he said, even though the last part was an underestimation of how long it took to fly over the Atlantic ocean.

Still, you smiled and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “I’ll be fine,” you told him. “This isn’t a Taken situation.”

“You say that now,” he mumbled, but he still smiled. The wrinkles around his eyes made him look a lot older than he was, but also a little bit like your dad. Just enough to remind you of him. You said your goodbyes and a few last reassurances to Aunt Melinda that you’d call her when you landed, and then you got in your car and went off to Thor’s house.

He’d taken Fenrir to a friend’s house the day before, so there was no barking when you rang the doorbell. He was only half-dressed when he let you in, and you bit your lip at the sight of him in nothing but red basketball shorts that hung low on his hips. Not fair you thought as you stared at the v-shape peeking out of the pants. Not fair at all. You shook your head and followed him into the kitchen, where a pot of coffee was just finishing brewing.

“I’m pretty much ready to go,” he said. “Just waiting for coffee and the cab.”

You nodded, and then the two of you leaned on the island hip-to-hip. “It’s really quiet here without Fenny,” you mentioned.

“Yeah,” he said. “Kinda miss him already.”

The coffee sputtered out its last bits of water loudly, so Thor turned his head and pushed off from the island. He pulled down two travel mugs from a cabinet above the pot, filled both of them, then returned to the island with one in each hand. You went to the fridge and pulled out milk and sugar, and in relative silence, you both poured and stirred until everything was just the way you liked it. Thor cleaned the pot, turned the burner off, and once everything was put away, he went upstairs to finish dressing.

Not thirty minutes later, you were on your way to LAX in the back of a yellow cab. Thor sat against the back driver’s side door and you sat in the middle - which normally you didn’t do, given how much smaller the seat is, but without a third person, you didn’t have to squish. You could sit next to Thor comfortably, his arm around your shoulders, your head on his as you sipped at your coffee and tried to stay awake.

Things moved even quicker then. You checked your large bags outside the terminal. The flight was early, so security was pretty empty. You went to take your shoes off before Thor called you over to the pre-check area, and since you’d let him book the flight and pay for the tickets, all you could do was follow with a little shrug. One TSA agent at the end of the row seemed to know Thor, but other than a short nod, they didn’t really acknowledge one another.

Thor held your hand as you waited in line at Starbucks for food and more coffee now that your travel mug had been emptied. You kept his fingers between yours when you went off and found seats at the actual gate. You ate slowly, then dozed off.

What felt like minutes later, Thor was shaking you awake to board the plane. You took your passport and ticket out, then got in the Preferred Boarding line - because of course Thor had purchased that luxury as well. You decided to wait until you got on the plane to say anything about it.

You were busy following Thor and barely noticed when he stepped out of the line and into a seat with a wall wrapped all the way around it. You looked at the seat next to it and realized that the chair itself faced his, and that the wall dividing the two had a sliding window.

“This one’s yours,” he said, pointing at the seat that faced his.

You glanced at him, then the seat, then you felt a push from behind and realized you were holding up the line. You moved forward and apologized to the people behind you, then slid into the little cocoon next to Thor’s seat. You put your backpack on the floor beneath the seat like you would any other seat, but you didn’t sit until you’d put the window between your little nooks down.

“You didn’t tell me we were flying first class,” you whispered to him through the open window.

“We’re not. This is Business class,” he said with a knowing, smug smirk.

“Same thing. Literally.” You sighed and leaned your head against the plastic opening around the window. “Please tell me you had miles or points or something. Make me feel like you didn’t really pay for the whole damn ticket and all of this.” With one hand, you gestured to the cabin.

He leaned on the window, too. “I had miles to use, yes,” he said, and immediately you felt a little less guilty about being in the nook, a little less like a moocher. “But I always fly business.”

You wondered if he even knew how rich he was. How privileged. Maybe that was his real flaw - an inability to see how much he had when people around him went without. But you also thought that a conversation about that would have to take place in private. It felt to invasive and rude to bring it up with strangers around, especially on a plane so early in the morning.

Thor dropped his smirk, but kept his eyes on yours. “What if, when the seatbelt light goes off, you come over here and we watch something together?” he asked softly.

You looked in through the window at his seat, thought about your own, and panicked a little. “Is there enough room?” you asked. You normally hated sharing seats - or, even worse, you usually weren’t even given the option. Maybe you and Daisy could squeeze into a tight space together but she was half your size. Thor wasn’t.

But he didn’t at all seem fazed by the his proposal. He shrugged and told you, “We’ll make room.” Something in his look melted you, made you forget about being anxious and a little peeved. He didn’t actually flaunt his wealth, you thought. He was always considerate and he took care of his employees and, because you’d peeked at the bill on your first date, you knew he tipped waiters well. You still had a lot to learn about him, so you sighed and nodded.

You went through the motions required before takeoff. The plane was boarded to capacity, then it pulled back from the terminal, and within half an hour, you were in the air.

Going to Sweden.

For a wedding for people you’d never met.

You shut your eyes and forced yourself not to worry about any of that. Thor would be there with you. Even if the introductions were awkward, you’d still be taken care of.

When the seatbelt sign was turned off, you took the pillow from your seat and pulled your bag out from under your seat and grabbed your earphones, a book, and some snacks before going around the nook to Thor’s seat. He’d already reclined his chair and pushed himself to the far side of the it, leaving just enough room for you to slide in against him. You put all your extra stuff on the floor by his backpack, then got almost comfortable. There wasn’t an ideal amount of space between you, but you tried not to care. Maybe this wouldn’t work for the duration of the flight, but for now, it was fine.

“You’re not upset about the seats, are you?” he asked, even though his face was still rather calm and unbothered.

You sighed. “Not really. Surprised, maybe. Not used to it.”

He pulled you closer, if that was possible, and kissed your forehead. “Fair enough.” He went to kiss a spot lower, close to your eyebrow, but you tilted your head up and met his lips with yours. It was funny, you thought, that you actually missed kissing him. You missed laying in his super comfy bed, listening to Fenrir bark from the floor below. So you put your hand on his cheek and kept kissing him, as if to remind yourself that he was real and he was on an international flight with you.

It was the middle of the night in Sweden when you landed. Your phone might’ve said it was almost 1am, but your body was working at about 4pm-ish. You’d had a meal on the plane, but that had been hours ago. You were a little swollen and slightly sore from sitting and laying out for so long, but your only other option was to walk around the cabin until you couldn’t bear to look at the lines for the bathrooms anymore.

You were exhausted, and Thor looked like he was, too. You dreaded the idea of going through customs, but there wasn’t a choice. Thor had multiple passports, so he kept his American one out so you wouldn’t have to wait in separate lines. Thankfully, the airport was relatively empty due to the time, so you didn’t have to wait too long before pretending to smile at the border patrol officer, answering their questions with, “A wedding. Four days. Oh, Malibu - super sunny, lovely beaches. No, not far at all from Los Angeles.” Once you and Thor made it through with the required stamps, you trudged to baggage claim and leaned against him as you watched bags go by. Thor managed to untangle himself from you to grab both of your suitcases, then led the way outside.

There was a thin blond man with a beard and mustache combo standing against a black luxury car that waved at Thor when you walked out. Thor waved back, then looked at you and nodded. “That would be Fandral. We’ve been friends since primary school,” he told you.

You tried to smile, but it took a lot of effort. It took even more when you pulled your suitcase behind you over to the black car. Thor greeted the man with a fun, childish handshake and a huge smile, then he turned to you.

“This is my date, (Y/N),” he said with maybe a little too much pride in his eyes. You let it force your smile wider as Fandral held his hand out to you. Even as the word date rang through your head.

Not girlfriend you thought.

“So good to meet you,” he said. “Thor hasn’t shut up about you for weeks!”

Your smile widened more as your face got hot. “That’s definitely good to know,” you said. “But he hasn’t quite given me details about his friends so am I congratulating you or…” You trailed off, raising an eyebrow at him.

Fandral looked at Thor like he was offended, hand to his chest and everything. “I can’t believe you, Asshole!” he said. “How could you possibly forget to tell this gorgeous woman about the best looking friend you have?” Then he turned back to you before Thor could do much more than laugh. “I appreciate the sentiment, but no, I’m not the one getting married. This oaf might’ve been more inclined to inform you of that had he not been distracted by your beautiful smile.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you, and you couldn’t help but laugh, too.

“Could you maybe not hit on my date?” Thor asked, though his face betrayed no sense of anger or entitlement. You realized, from that alone, that this was just how they were. This easy little teasing, Fandral being charming and humorous… It was normal, and not just for rich people. Just normal.

But that word again. Date.

“Not my fault you’ve been keeping this darling a not very well kept secret from us,” Fandral answered. He came over to you, pushed the handle into your suitcase, then lifted it and placed it in his open trunk. “Also not my fault you haven’t told her about us yet.”

Thor followed him, placing his own suitcase in the trunk. Fandral closed the hood, then came around and held the passenger door open for you. You thanked him before settling in to the plush leather seat. The car smelled new, and for a second, you felt a bit uncomfortable. You were in a foreign country with a man you’d been on all of four dates with before then. A man who was, apparently, just your date. And now you were in the front seat of his childhood friend’s car - a friend you hadn’t even heard about until you’d met him - about to go to a wedding for people you didn’t know and-

Your thoughts were cut short when Fandral opened the driver’s door and got in. Thor slid across the seat behind you before settling in the middle seat. You turned around and smiled at him. He smiled back, and most of your fears were calmed. He’d never given you a reason not to trust him. He’d insisted he wanted to take care of getting you to Sweden, at least in part so he could spend time with you.

So what if this wasn’t how a traditional relationship worked? Maybe it was just the way it was meant to be.

The reception was taking place at the groom’s family’s mansion, and since Thor was in the bridal party, you’d be staying there, too. You groaned internally when Fandral had pulled into the driveway, but you tried to keep it subtle.

When you and Thor were alone, you realized there was only one bed in the room. Of course there was only one bed - the place was a home, not a hotel. For some reason, one bed made you nervous, but Thor didn’t seem to mind at all. You’d shared his bed before, you reminded yourself.

You remembered to breathe. It wasn’t a big deal. But it was late and your body was begging for a few hours of sleep, despite having slept on the plane, so you pulled pajamas out of your suitcase and went into the bathroom to change. You noticed a large marble tub along one wall, a matching toilet at the other end of the room, and a long, luxurious vanity with soft lights lining the top of it. It was probably the nicest bathroom you’d ever been in, but you were too tired to truly appreciate it.

You lifted your shirt off and caught your reflection in the mirror for half a second. It was long enough for you to worry about what he saw when he looked at you, because at that moment, your eyes were red and your face looked a little swollen. Your tummy protruded over the band of your panties. You put your palm to the skin just below your belly button, but then there was a knock at the door.

“You okay?” Thor asked, his voice heavy and tired.

You looked away from the mirror and called out, “Yeah, sorry,” before resuming the task you’d come in to do. You turned away from the mirror to finish dressing, then folded your dirty plane clothes into a pile before heading back into the bedroom.

He’d gotten in bed, so all you could see was that he was shirtless and comfortable with his eyes closed and head drooping a bit. A mix of feelings stirred in you. On the one hand, he was an absolute piece of art just sitting there in the ornate bed with the duvet pulled up to cover most of his torso. And you knew pieces of art. On the other hand, you were wondering what it was he was doing with you because he was an absolute work of art while you stood staring at him in your pajama shorts with a variety of screaming goats printed all over them and a mismatched Harry Potter shirt. You tried to push past the thoughts, though. It was too late to worry about any of that - both in the hour and in the relationship.

After putting your dirty clothes in a plastic garbage bag, Thor opened his eyes as you climbed into the luxurious bed next to him. You realized that, despite the bed being even bigger than his back in Malibu, he was situated nearly in the middle. You tried to give him some room, but as you settled in, he reached out for you.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked, watching your face closely.

You shrugged and asked, “Like?”

“Water? Food? It’s been a minute since we ate anything.” He put his hand on your hip and scooted closer to you, and you moved closer in response. His body was warm like it usually was, which eased some of the tension in your muscles almost on impact.

“I think I’m okay for now,” you whispered.

He nodded, then closed his eyes again. But it wasn’t a minute later before they reopened and he whispered, “I’m really glad you came here with me,” before pecking your lips effortlessly. “I can’t wait for you to meet everyone.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about your friends before?” you asked, trying not to sound like you were angry. You weren’t, really. You were curious more than anything else. Fandral had made it sound like Thor had gushed forever about you, but he hadn’t said a word about his group to you beyond explaining how he knew the bride and groom. It was...a little off putting, to say the least.

He paused and thought about his answer, rubbing little stripes on your hip with his thumb. It was soothing but distracting, even as you bent an elbow into your pillow and rested your cheek against your palm.

“I guess I was so busy telling them about you that I forgot,” he said, and you believed him. His smile stayed quaint and easy. “But I can tell you now, if you’re not too tired.”

You were tired, but you were also interested in knowing more about him. So you nodded slowly and adjusted your legs to get comfy for a talk, rather than sleep. Your toes brushed against his shin, and you waited for some kind of reaction out of him, but nothing came other than his voice.

“Fandral and I went to school together. Our parents were really close, so occasionally we also vacationed together. We met Sif, my ex, at a sleepaway camp when we were teenagers.” He saw your eyes get wide when he mentioned that Sif was his ex, so he sighed and said, “When I say she’s my ex, I mean we dated at camp for a single summer, then decided that distance wasn’t worth it, given that we were both still in high school.”

“Why not just call her a friend, then?” you asked.

Thor shrugged. “We’ve been joking for close to twenty years about being exes. I guess it’s just habit now.” He waited a few seconds until you nodded again, and when you bit your lip, he went on. “Fandral and I met Hogun on a business trip to Japan a few years ago. He liked us so much that he bought a house in Norway and called it the Convergence, because Fandral and I would take trips out there to see Sif. So it really just became an annual get-together.”

You raised your brows at the fact that his friend Hogun named his house, but Thor just shrugged.

“Sif met Volstagg, her fiance,” he said with emphasis, “on a skiing trip in the Alps. I think you’ll like him especially. Most people do.”

You groaned and rolled your eyes playfully. “Ugh, your friends are so interesting. It’s gross, really,” you said, a sarcastic smile playing at your lips.

He laughed and leaned forward to kiss you again. You thought that, the more of those little quick kisses he left, the more you wanted. He made you feel wanted and welcomed, even as he gave you a quick rundown of his friends. When he relaxed again he said, “They’re...kind of family, you know? And I’m really glad you’re gonna get to meet them.”

You remembered all the times you’d worried about how weird it would be to go to Thor’s ex’s wedding and you tore the insecurities that came with that idea up. All it took was those two sentences, and you felt so much better about this whole weird situation. This wasn’t just an extravagant event that would turn awkward when he introduced you to his ex. This was a convergence of his worlds. This was his new girl meeting his old friends - his family. And you - of all the people in the world - were his new girl. You couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have him looking at you like you held the world on a string.

“Would it be really cheesy of me to say I’m super honored?” you asked, sliding down to put your head on the pillow again. You put one arm under the pillow and the other over his shoulder and around the back of his neck. You suddenly didn’t care about anything that existed outside of that bedroom. You put your body against Thor’s and sighed as he shrugged.

“Only a little, but it still means a lot. To me.” He kissed you again, and before he could pull back, you put pressure on his neck to keep him where he was. He smiled into the kiss and held onto you tighter. When you finally let him go, he kissed your forehead and told you to get to sleep because you both had a long day ahead of you.

Tags!

Global: @infinityblogger @welcome-to-my-daydreams @loverofromance @httpmcrvel @capsheadquaters @samanthasmileys @sunigyrl @yeahbutmarvel @mysweetcookie99 @ourdreamsrealized @tinyfistwarrior @punkrockhufflefluff @lady-thor-foster @nerdywitch @dreamerinfinity @demonspawn2468 @blackpantherimagines @memyselfandmaddox @acciorinn @the-resal10 @untoldshortsofthefandoms @j-marvel-memester @vinyloider @fridolf-arach @cassiopeia-barrow @alexiamiky2003 @wildefire @super-fan-of-all-things @deathbyarabbit @raveennn @thesassmisstress @bvckysmanbun @thisismysecrethappyplace @heartssick @sea040561

Thor: @thewayilookatbacon @athorable-and-deanlicous @baileythepenguin @girlwhoisfearless @mrsdeanwinchester19 @loverofthor-2 @eyesfixedonthesun22 @rishlo @mjolnir-s @multi-fandom-imagines8 @sthorgestavenger @ineffabl-y @warriorsacrifice @marvelous-super-soldier @virizona @jumpingmanatee @jehongsana @cherrysfandom @lancsnerd @alexiamiky2003 @soulessbabylovesyou @thorsbb @crocodilerocker @rhla18

Sugar: @bvckysmanbun @rhla18 @winchester-with-wings @tuliptx

#thor x reader #thor odinson x reader #thor x plus size reader #thor x plus size!reader #sugar fic

218 notes · View notes