#I have forgotten most of it but trying to straighten one of the few gay characters is a thing that stays with me

[depressedhatakekakashi]

A Sacrifice Worth Being Made

Words: 1,888

Royalty AU: Sacrifice

Also for @kakagaievents Kakagai Halloween event with the prompt 'Beast'

The entire room had fallen silent. Even the most vocal of Gai’s advisors couldn’t think of a single thing to say, opting instead to bow their heads and keep their mouths shut. On any other day, Gai would appreciate the quiet.

Today, he wished someone would say something.

Anything.

“What?” Anger boiled inside of his chest, consuming him in a way he’d never experienced before. He wanted to lash out. To scream and argue and cry until he was too warn out to continue.

“I’ll go,” Kakashi repeated himself as if everything was just fine. “If no one else can deal with the issue, then I will.”

“Your majesty,” A sharp glare would usually silence any words his advisors had, but it did nothing to detour Genma. His advisor simply met his gaze with the same calm that he always tried to exude in their meetings. “Sir Kakashi is one of our best knights and we have lost quite a few trying to destroy this beast already.”

“No.” his voice was sharper than usual, with such fiery anger burning in that one simple word that half of the advisors who surrounded the table took a step back. As if they were protecting themselves from the fall they could see happening directly in front of them.

Not one to be intimidated, though, Kakashi simply straightened his back and turned to face Gai. “Name one person better equipped to face the challenge than I.”

“I-that’s not the point,” he bit back. “You are a royal guard. Your duty is to stay at my side and protect me!”

“To protect you sometimes I must step away,” Kakashi spoke with an eerie calmness. A trait Gai had seen over the years, though it was always directed at someone else. Someone who needed to be reminded of the rules. “I did this when I led the army in the battle of Hacho, and again when I left to take care of the assassine that King Onoki had sent to kill you.”

Gai shook his head. It was true of course and he knew Kakashi’s duties better than anyone. He’d made sure to read all about the duties his lover would be carrying out when he first got word about his father’s intentions to make Kakashi his royal guard.

He’d never thought he would reach the day when that information backfired on him.

Still, he didn’t give up. He couldn’t. 

Allowing Kakashi to go on this mission was a guaranteed loss. Even if he was successful in slaying the beast it was unlikely that he would make it home. The intel they’d received from past attempts and the select few who’d miraculously managed to get away before they were ripped to shreds confirmed that there was no escape.

“Poisoned fangs,” He whispered, images of all those people he’d seen just a few days ago in the village hospital. People who’d lived in a village a few hours away and who’d come to his kingdom seeking asylum after the beast had attacked their homes. “Claws that can impale a grown man, faster than any animal seen before.”

“I know what its qualities are,” Kakashi assured him, never faltering for even a second. “I’ve studied everything we know about it and thought carefully about the risks before coming to this decision.”

The aching fear that had engulfed Gai’s heart when he first heard Kakashi offer himself up for the job began to loosen. It felt silly now that he thought about it, but he’d forgotten just how cautious Kakashi could be.

No matter what the task, Kakashi was known for facing it head-on with plans that would make even the wisest generals bow their heads in respect. There wasn’t a single person in the kingdom who could think as Kakashi did, and no one who could carry out those plans as well as he did.

“So,” Genma spoke up, his voice giving away the excitement that everyone else in the room must have been feeling. “What’s the plan?”

After three weeks of panic, there seemed to be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Kakashi was stepping forward, and he spoke in such a way that it seemed clear that he had a plan. An idea that would allow him to defeat the beast that plagued their lands while still keeping his life.

Yet, while everyone else seemed to already be celebrating their freedom from the beast’s rampage, Gai could still feel that terrible weight in his chest. A fear that weighed down on his heart even when he tried to remind himself that it was Kakashi.

Hatake Kakashi is the youngest person to ever be knighted and one of the absolute best knights in the entire kingdom. 

“The plan?” Kakashi’s eyes flickered over to Genma. “To kill the beast, of course.”

Gai’s heart sank. 

There was no plan.

No grand design that Kakashi had thought up to defeat the beast while ensuring his own survival. 

“You…you’re kidding, right?” for the first time in his life, Gai heard a growl in Genma’s voice. The usually cool-headed advisor had finally met a challenge that he couldn’t face without allowing his anger to seep through into full view for everyone around him. “You just told us you’d thought through everything. That means you have a plan, right?”

“No,” Gai answered for his lover, his heart shattering when Kakashi looked his way. “There is no plan that will work.”

“That is…sort of correct,” Kakashi confirmed. “It is possible for me to defeat the beast and end the reign of terror it had placed over the kingdom. It will no longer be a problem and people will be able to return to their homes. Of course, they’re going to need aid to rebuild.”

“Aid that they will receive without question,” Gai assured him. “Now let’s focus on the main issue.”

“There is no issue,” Kakashi continued with that same cool attitude, never for a second giving away what was going on in his mind. “The beast will be taken care of. That is the only thing that matters.”

Gai wanted to scream.

To fight, argue, and cry. 

To lash out and demand an explanation for Kakashi’s attitude. 

He didn’t, though. There was no outburst that would aid in this situation, and it would only serve to embarrass him and Kakashi in the long run. Instead, he turned to his advisors and steeled himself for the impending conversation. “You’re dismissed.”

“You’re majesty!” Four of them gasped, but before they could even begin to argue both Genma and Ebisu set about ushering them all out of the room. There was a bit of argument along the way, but once they were out Genma turned around and pulled the doors shut. 

With everyone gone the room was now deadly silent. The weight of Kakashi’s sacrifice hung over the two of them as they stood there staring at each other.

Summoning upon just an ounce of strength, Gai began to speak. “How long?” 

“Your majesty?” Kakashi answered with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t understand.”

“How long,” he repeated. “How long have we known each other, Kakashi?”

“twenty -seven years,” the answer came without hesitation or doubt.

“Twenty-seven years,” thinking back, he couldn’t help but smile. There were so many memories the two of them had shared. Times, when they had sat under the beautiful maple tree in the garden reading the book Choza-Sensei, was teaching them about. Hours they had spent running around the castle trying to see who could name the most people in the pictures that hung on the castle walls. The nights that the two of them had spent entangled in each other’s arms, whispering their promises and hiding under the blankets like five-year-olds whenever they heard footsteps just outside the door. “And this…” he waved a hand toward Kakashi, indicating the declaration he’d just made in front of him and all of his advisors. “This is how it ends?”

Lowing his eyes, Kakashi sighed. “Someone had to put a stop to it.”

“Someone,” Gai agreed as the tears began gathering in his eyes. “Not you.”

“Name someone else,” Kakashi insisted, repeating the same request he had made earlier. “One other person that can handle the task. Anyone.”

A list of names ran through Gai’s mind, but every single one of them fell short. 

None of them had Kakashi’s skills. His drive, intelligence, speed, abilities with a sword. Some of them could match his skill in one or two areas or even beat him in select areas, but they weren’t as skilled as him all around.

He was the master of all trades.

The knight who had done everything in his power to perfect all of his skills, setting himself apart from others as exceptional. Once upon a time, Gai had felt nothing but pride about that. Now, all he could feel was crushing, painful regret.

“Anyone else,” Kakashi spoke again, his voice pleading this time. Begging Gai to provide him with one simple name so that he wouldn’t have to be the one to make the sacrifice.

So that he could stay here, by Gai’s side where he was supposed to be.

“I-” 

“You can’t,” a bitter laugh ripped up from his throat. “I tried to think of one too. I spent all night trying to come up with one name. One person who could carry out the plan I’d come up with, but they’d all die.”

“So will you.” Tears spilled down his cheeks. 

“Maybe, yes,” lowering his eyes, Kakashi drew in a breath, and for the first time since they’d met, Gai could see his lover's resolve wavering. “But I’ll succeed. That’s the difference.”

“You are so…”

“Arrogent?” Kakashi completed his sentence with a shaky chuckle.

“Selfless,” Gai corrected him, though what would usually be spoken as a compliment came out as a complaint this time. “Don’t go.”

“I have to,” Watching as his lover took a step forward, Gai found himself holding a breath as a hand came up and cupped his cheek. The warmth of Kakashi’s hand was comforting, and for just a second he was able to focus on that.

A second was a short amount of time, though, and the reality of his situation soon came crashing into his silent getaway and yanked him right back into reality. The last place he wanted to be.

“Tomorrow,” he begged, hoping to cling to as much time as he could even if it seemed hopeless. “Leave tomorrow morning.”

Kakashi simply smiled, though there was no joy in his eyes when Gai stared into them. “Tomorrow,” leaning in close, he pressed his forehead against Gai’s and closed his eyes. “And who knows. Maybe I’ll return before dinner.”

Gai laughed for the first time since hearing Kakashi’s decision. “I’ll tell the kitchen to make salt-broiled saury to celebrate.”

His heart ached, but these were precious moments. 

If this really was going to be his last night with his lover, he wanted it to be fantastic. A night that he could remember for the rest of his life. No tears, no arguing, no dreading the morning to come.

Tomorrow he could spend his day fretting. Tonight, he would focus on reminding Kakashi how much he was loved, even if it broke his heart to do so. 

#AU-Tober #AU-Tober 2023 #Kakagai #Royalty AU #King Gai #Knight Kakashi #Angst #Slight Angst

[xcaroldanversx]

I realised I had happily suppressed Dark Reign: Young Avengers until someone just brought it up and clearly I haven’t buried it deep enough so let me get that shovel again

#I have forgotten most of it but trying to straighten one of the few gay characters is a thing that stays with me #young avengers #Billy Kaplan #imagine them trying to have a gay character brainwash and seduce a straight character #especially a teen #also what’s everyone’s worst comic moments go #mine are: carol giving birth to her own rapist #Nazi Steve #the blatant racism of the punisher comics and the transphobia in punisher noir #there are more but there’s 3 bullshit ones

[krispytidalwavesheep]

Hopes and Dreams Part I

.I have this idea in my head since I saw the first trailer of Resident Evil 8, which was in March? This will be multichaptered and english isn’t my first language, so if anyone of you likes the story enough and is willing to be my beta, I would greatly appreciate it. *** About the story: Reader was Alcinas first lover and got reincarnated over the centuries. Alcina lost her everytime and after the fifth, she just gave up on ever finding reader again, because she couldn’t take losing her anymore times. But as fate would have it, the reader will find her.... Chapter One

Five. Five times Alcina has seen you reincarnated and crossing her way, and yet, fate always found a way to take you from her. The last one was particularly grueling. She remembered the day she lost you, as if it happened yesterday and considering her immortality, it may have been. You looked so happy and excited when you said your goodbyes, and Alcina could understand that. The titanic was a big thing then, even more so after the tragedy that unfolded. You were one of the many victims of the sheer stupidity of men, at least in her opinion and she hasn’t been the same since. Every single one of your deaths was devastating, but the last one was the one that broke her. Bela was there to take care of her, but something died within Alcina when she heard that fate had taken you away from her yet again.

When Cassandra and Daniela came into her life, it certainly helped, but she still grieved for you to this day. Usually, she would search to the ends of the world for you, but she couldn’t stand to lose you, if she ever found you again. She couldn’t do that to either you or herself.

She straightened her dress when she got to her feet again, gently stroking a hand over your grave. Well, the first you, anyway. The only one where any remains were found to be buried. You loved the lake near the castle, no matter in which life. Some asked about the tombstone, but she would just smile and say that it was someone she cherished when she was young, never revealing the whole truth. The first you lived the longest and happiest, before Alcina was turned. Centuries before Mother Miranda found out about her and the other lords.

Her musing was disrupted when she heard distant howling. It seemed like Heisenberg’s Lycans had found another victim, and they were oh so messy in their killing. She harrumphed and started her trek back to the castle, ignoring the ever-closer growing howling. That was until she heard rustling and a figure, cursing like a sailor rushed out from the bushes. Your eyes met and time seemed to stop for both of you.

***

You were furious with yourself for letting your guard down. You have been hiding away in this remote village for two years now, so far avoiding any supernatural beings. But it seems your luck had run out. You were checking your traps in the forest, never noticing them sneaking up on you. Which was a feat in and on itself, normally you could smell them miles away. During your travels you had to fight of many supernatural beings, a pack of Lycans shouldn’t be a problem, but the forest was dense in these parts and you knew when you were at a disadvantage. So, you ran, hoping to distract them with the chase long enough to form a plan.

Meeting her wasn’t part of the plan. You have never seen the lady of the castle, but you heard enough to know exactly who you were looking at, her height being one dead giveaway. Yet something about her made you stop dead in your tracks, the pack of Lycans chasing after you completely forgotten. Her honey-colored eyes stirred something in you, some feeling of familiarity you couldn’t quite place. Your heart clenched, not entirely in an uncomfortable way, because she was just so stunning. If you weren’t gay before you sure as hell were now. What intrigued you even more was the look of utter shock in her eyes, mixed with other emotions you could have named, if it weren’t for the Lycan crashing into you and propelling you down the small cliff you hadn’t noticed before.

“Motherfucking mutt!” you hissed and pulled the knife from your boot. You skillfully spin the Lycan underneath you, stabbing the knife into the Lycans chest to soften your fall. But another four already jumped right after you and you were still distracted by the lady, who apparently decided that watching you would be a nice way to kill some time. With a sickening crunch from the dead Lycan you landed on the edge of the lake. The others where circling you, growling menacingly. With another sickening crunch you pulled your knife free and took a defensive post. You kept most of your concentration on the Lycans, but the woman was still distracting you somewhat.

‘Might as well try to impress her’ you thought and grinned up at her, which was your second mistake that day. You felt sharp claws digging into your left leg and hissed in annoyance.

“Not cool, man!” you huffed and kicked him in the throat. The desire to impress equally impressive tall, beautiful women left your mind and you made quick process of the remaining Lycans standing in your way. You kicked the corpse of the one that got you for good measure, cursing under your breath. When you turned around you noticed that the lady had made your way to you, still staring you down as if you were the weirdest thing around here.

“I would help you, but it seems you have the situation under control,” she said, and a shiver ran down your spine. Her voice was like liquid honey and your heart clenched again. You absentmindedly rubbed your chest and said “Well, they are not the first supernatural being I have encountered, and they aren’t the most dangerous ones.”

She seemed impressed with your answer if the slight smirk was anything to go by. Her gaze wandered down to your leg and something in her eyes changed. Some far away voice in your head screamed for you to run from her, but you felt weirdly safe around her.

“Believe me when I say that I taste quite awful,” you said and grinned. That seemed to pull her out of her daze, and she stepped closer to you. You gulped a bit when the realization of how tall she truly was hit you, but you wouldn’t back down either. Craning your neck to keep looking at her face you stood still and waited. You should be scared shitless and still you felt as if no danger was coming your way. Yet.

“You should take care of that, before you attract more of them” she simply said and turned around. Sheer stupidity, paired with a malfunctioning brain to mouth barrier made you utter your next words “Well, shouldn’t you be the one to help me out, considering that I only got hurt, trying to impress you?”

She turned around so fast that you just knew she popped something. She was upon you in seconds and hissed “Excuse me?”

“I- I didn’t mean to say that out loud,” you stuttered and felt a blush creeping up your face. All her beauty and your weird feeling aside, she was still someone infinitely more dangerous than 200 Lycans combined. What exactly had you gotten yourself into? 

***

Seeing you tumble out of the woods came as a shock to her system. No matter how many times you got reborn, she would always recognize you, though you certainly looked more different than ever before. Not that Alcina had much time to look at you, when just a few seconds after your eyes met a Lycan barreled into you. Her feet moved on her own, ignoring the other Lycans tumbling down the small cliff, when she rushed to the ledge of the small cliff just in time to see you landing on the dead Lycan.

You were certainly feisty and skilled this time around and the grin you threw her way made her feel things she thought long buried. Until one Lycan got to you and she saw red, but when she came down, she only saw you kicking a dead Lycan before he turned into dust. Alcina was rather impressed when you made that off-hand comment about encountering other beings before. Which would explain why you didn’t react to her like normal people do.

No matter how many times you two met in the course of history, there were certain things that never changed: you always looked similar to your you before, and your smell. Looking at you now, she realized that this time, a lot has changed. The most obvious being your smell. You still smelled like you, but something was underneath all that, that made you somehow all the more alluring to her. Something in your blood sang to her and it confused her a great deal.

You were always kind of shy and timid around her when you first met, but the confidence you oozed made you all the more attractive and Alcina felt as if she was betraying your past lives with that thought. Hearing that you encountered supernatural beings before made her stop dead in her tracks. What was your life like until you met? What happened to you to change you so fundamentally? But your next words shocked you more than she would ever admit

“Well, shouldn’t you be the one to help me out, considering that I only got hurt, trying to impress you?” you said with such an insufferable grin that Alicna had the impulse to strangle you for the first time in her long life.

“Excuse me?” she hissed and clenched her hands. Not that you would notice. But apparently you didn’t mean to say that, if your blush was anything to go by. Still, Alcina was fuming at the blatant rudeness, but also shocked at your bluntness. Your new personality was… still somehow endearing and interesting. She couldn’t fit your current you into the picture she had of you which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

“What is your name?” Alcina asked and took a few steps back to get a better look at you. The smile you gave her was apologetic when you said “Excuse my poor manners, I really don’t know what has gotten into me today. My name is y/n.”

“I am Lady Alcina Dimitrescu, but you will call me Lady Dimitrescu or my lady. You would do good to remember your manners, little one.” She said and offered her hand to you. You gave her another stunning smile as you took her hand and bowed to give kiss to her knuckles that did ABSOLUTELY not fluster her, before you purred, “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady.”

You would be the certain death of her this time around. She was certain of that. She should keep her distance from you, it wouldn’t do to become to attached to your, your attitude would get you killed rather sooner than later. But what she said was: “Come now. The castle isn’t that far, and night is almost upon us. It wouldn’t do to stay out here, with you being injured.”

#alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader

[dhwty-writes]

hi! I have a prompt, if you like: what if Geralt hangs up mistletoe to get Jaskier to kiss him? :)

ELLIE, what a galaxy brained concept! It’s so silly and the gay panic is rampant in this one, my friends. The Kaer Morons being a bumbling pack of idiots and Geralt ridiculously pining after Jaskier? Coming right up!

Summary: Geralt is in love with Jaskier. In order to finally get him to admit his feelings, he devises a ten step plan with Lambert, Eskel and Vesemir. 

Warnings: NONE, this is tooth-rotting fluff

Read on AO3

There was a conspiracy of the highest order brewing in the Continent involving no less than four witchers, their horses, a goat, and an unsuspecting bard. It is known under many names, including, but not limited to, Operation Home Sweet Home, Gods Save us from your Fucking Pining, and Get Vesemir's Blessing (and Mission Let's Get Geralt Laid, but that was from Lambert and therefore stupid).

They had laid out the Conspiracy in a set of carefully calculated steps last winter with the help of Vesemir's Wise Words and truly copious amounts of alcohol. Once he saw the whole list sober, Geralt had nearly chucked it into the fireplace out of mortification. Good thing Eskel and Lambert had been nearby to wrestle the slip of paper out of his hands.

Only after the creation of at least half a dozen copies was he trusted with it again. He frowned down at the sheet. It was simple, really. A simple ten-step-plan. He could do that.

Step One: Stop fucking staring out of windows and sighing longingly. (Shut up, Lambert.) Get back on the Path and find Jaskier.

Now, at least that was easy enough. Not for the first time since their acquaintance they had agreed upon a meeting place to come find each other as soon as the snows would allow it. Most of the years Geralt would arrive a little late; because even if they chose a spot closer to Kaer Morhen than Oxenfurt, the Killer was usually impassable for a long time.

A few years they had been lucky and could set out relatively early in spring. Geralt hadn't felt lucky at all, sitting in a lonely tavern corner day in, day out, waiting for a familiar bright-coloured bard to fill his life with light again. He had felt terrified, most of all.

So, this year when he set out to the Path, an already crumpled list clutched tightly in his hand, he was even more on edge than normally. He didn't think he could take Step One failing already, and the mortifying possibility of Jaskier lying dead in a ditch. He might just climb up that mountain again and never come back down.

Luckily, Geralt — and Vesemir — were saved from that miserable fate. When Geralt threw open the tavern door in some backwater Kaedwen town, Jaskier was there already. He was peacocking around in his usual manner, enticing his sparse audience with his captivating presence. When his eyes fell on Geralt, though, his three half-drunk spectators were soon forgotten.

The bard gasped and slung his lute onto his back, vaulting off the stage to come rushing over to him. "You're here!" Geralt stood ready, his arms spread wide to catch Jaskier when he flung himself at him in an overenthusiastic hug. "I missed you." Jaskier slung his legs around Geralt's hips and buried his face against his shoulder, clinging to him as if for dear life. 

Geralt held him tight, deeply inhaling the familiar scent, a mix of honey, grapes, and cinnamon. He was used to this by now. He didn't mind. Truth be told, he craved it.

"Hmm," he answered, acutely aware of the stares they were attracting. Geralt decided he didn't care. "I... missed you, too."

"You did?" Jaskier pulled back and beamed at him. Just a week ago he had thought he would kill to see that smile again as soon as possible.

"Hmm," he agreed. Now he knew he knew he would die for it.

Jaskier wriggled in his grasp as a sign he wanted to be put down again. "You certainly know how to sweep a man off his feet, darling," he announced with a cheerful wink. "I don't think you've ever told me you so much as enjoyed my company before, let alone miss it."

"Hmm." Hadn't he? He could've sworn he had.

"None of that, now, let me just grab my bag and we can be on our merry way." Without another word, Jaskier rushed up the stairs in the back of the tavern.

Geralt stood uncomfortably in the door, waiting for him to return and doing his best not to attract too much attention. 'Hurry up, Jaskier,' he thought impatiently.

"Oi!" the bartender shouted. "Yer the witcher? The one of the songs?"

"I am."

The man nodded and threw something at him, humming a very distinct tune. It was a ducat. Geralt pocketed it with a sigh. He hadn't missed that.

He didn't have to wait long before Jaskier came barrelling back down the stairs, a much too large bag Roach would have to carry again in tow. "Well," the bard straightened his crumpled doublet, which, for some reason, now gaped open and showed off the pristine shirt underneath. Geralt tried not to stare, "where are we off to?"

"Toussaint," he answered, holding the tavern door open for him.

"Toussaint!" Jaskier exclaimed excitedly. "I love Toussaint."

"Hmm," Geralt said. 'I know,' Geralt thought, 'that's why we're going.'

With their reunion out of the way, it was time to proceed with the plan:

Step Two: Travel with Jaskier. Be nice to him (no fillingless pies!)! Compliment him! Laugh at his jokes!

That part was significantly more difficult than the first. Not that he lacked compliments for Jaskier, quite on the contrary. They, however, posed not one, but two difficulties.

The first was one of his own making: voicing his thoughts with actual words. In the privacy of his mind he had a myriad of compliments. 'You're beautiful,' passed through his head when he saw Jaskier bathed in the golden light of sunset. 'You smell nice,' after a day at the coast, salt encrusting Jaskier's hair. 'You make me smile', 'You make the loneliness go away', 'You're the best bard I could wish for.' None of them were quite eager to leave his mouth.

When they finally did, it was awkward. They didn't sound at all how he imagined them. "What are you looking at?" Jaskier asked.

"Something on your face," he answered. 'Yeah,' he thought dumbly, 'sunlight.'

Or: "Geralt, are you sniffing me?"

"You smell." He still cursed himself months later for omitting the simple word 'nice'.

After a while he got better at it. He could manage an "I like your voice" without stumbling over it, or a "Your outfit looks nice and smooth." It wasn't an "I love listening to you sing and say my name; you make it sound like something that is worthy of affection" or an "I love that you wear silk as soft as your skin and could spend days caressing it without growing tired of it" yet, but he was getting there.

What came then, once he was able to say a simple nice sentence to his bard, was somehow even worse. Jaskier was clumsy, that was nothing new, but this season it was on a whole different level. Whenever Geralt so much asked him about the song he was working on, the bard stumbled over his own feet; with every smile or laugh he nearly dropped his precious lute.

But nothing beat that time they happened upon a particularly clear and blue lake and Geralt had leaned over to tell Jaskier: "I like it. It reminds me of your eyes. Just as pretty." The poet had nearly plummeted right into it, which would have been very unfortunate indeed, since he hadn't convinced the nymph living in it to migrate yet.

In the end, Jaskier's utter lack of equilibrium sense led to Geralt offering him to ride on Roach. That was much better. Sometimes they rode double, too. He liked those days especially, when he had an excuse to hold his bard close. The days when Jaskier would sigh and lean back into his touch he liked most of them all.

Slowly, they settled into a familiar rhythm. It was awkward at first, but soon they became used to the change of their relationship. And it wasn't as if everything changed. They still bickered and insulted each other, and laughed and told stories. It was just right; Geralt almost didn't notice how summer came to an end.

But it did, and when the first leaves started coasting to the ground it was time for the next step.

Step Three: Ask him where he will spend the next winter.

It was probably the most mortifying thing he had to say to Jaskier yet. They were sat at a campfire one early autumn evening, Geralt trying to look busy cleaning his sword and Jaskier preoccupied with his lute. Once he finally worked up the courage to ask, he stumbled over his words like a school boy; he even blushed, for fuck's sake! It was embarrassing.

Luckily, Jaskier didn't seem to notice, too busy tuning his lute. "Why, in Oxenfurt, of course. Why do you ask, Geralt?" he answered nonchalantly as if Geralt wasn't just leading the most daunting conversation of his entire life.

'Fucking great,' he thought. Now it was time for Step Three.5: Ask Jaskier to come home with you, you fucking idiot.

"Hm," he said.

Jaskier laughed. "Talkative as always I see." He smiled at him brightly and turned back to his lute. "Alright then. Keep your secrets."

"Hmm." This wasn't getting any easier. "Jaskier."

"Yes, dear?"

His heart fluttered with the pet name, so much that Geralt nearly bit his tongue off in the process of trying to voice his question: "Would you like to stay with me?"

The lute gave a dissonant twang that made both of them wince. "Excuse me, what?" Jaskier stammered, his voice much higher than normally.

"Hmm. I just thought..." He frowned. 'Shit.' He couldn't do it. He just couldn't. This had been doomed from the beginning. "Forget it, it's stupid."

"No, no, not at all!" Jaskier scrambled to his feet and hurried over to Geralt's side. "Where would we be staying? I suppose you could come to Oxenfurt with me, but it could get a bit crammed and-"

"Kaer Morhen," Geralt stated simply.

"Kaer Mo- oh!" His eyes lit up. "Why, yes, Geralt, I would love to stay with you."

And that was the end of that. They didn't talk about it anymore the whole evening as Geralt did his damnedest to forget the conversation had ever happened. But when he laid awake in the night, Jaskier huddled close to him — it was getting rather cold, after all — he couldn't stop his mind from whirling, excitement mixing with immobilising terror. Jaskier would come to Kaer Morhen with him. They would stay together the whole winter. And Jaskier would meet his family.

With a sigh he turned over, cautiously throwing an arm over Jaskier's waist and holding him like the precious thing he was. The smile that spread on Geralt's face when his bard snuggled even closer, outshone the morning sun creeping over the horizon.

The following days and weeks, Jaskier was buzzing with the same excited energy that Geralt held within. It cost him every ounce of self-control not to turn Roach around and head for Kaer Morhen right away. But it was still early in the autumn, at least a moon's turn before it was time to go home, so they busied themselves with taking contracts and performing for sub-par audiences.

It was alright. He needed the money, after all, if he wanted to cross off Step Four: Bring Jaskier back to Kaer Morhen in its entirety, including the note: Buy him some nice and warm clothes on the way - Vesemir

It was good advice, Geralt knew, as most of Vesemir's advice was. Jaskier might have travelled with a witcher for the better part of his life, but he was still only human. And winters were very cold in the northern Kaedwen mountains.

So, on Geralt's annual stop in Ard Carraigh, he took Jaskier to get him equipped with soft woollen sweaters and stockings, as well as a pair of sturdy boots, ignoring the bard's protests of how 'ugly' they were.

"You'll thank me when you've still got all your toes after this winter," he grumbled as he strapped Jaskier's bag to Roach's saddle.

After that, nothing much exciting followed. There were still a few villages and hamlets along the way to Kaer Morhen but the least of them had so much as a tavern. The ones with a real audience of Jaskier were fewer still.

Geralt couldn't say he didn't enjoy it. Quite the opposite, he loved listening to Jaskier in the privacy of their camp or — if they were lucky — the barn where they could stay the night. He loved knowing that Jaskier sang only for him. And most of all he loved the vibrant smiles he got along the way, and the tiny ones, too, etched on his face even when he curled up against the witcher at night.

During the days, Jaskier finally had to stop riding on Roach; the path was simply getting too dangerous. The way up to Kaer Morhen had never been easy, not even when there had been two dozen witchers and twice as many students living there, but since the attack they hadn't tended to it anymore. The Witcher's Trail was no easy one for humans — and it wasn't meant to be.

Jaskier, to his credit, didn't comment much on it, most of the time too exhausted or admiring to run his mouth about the difficulty of getting to Geralt's home. He was almost a bit worried, anxious even, if Jaskier's reaction to seeing the ancient ruin would just be the same kind of silent admiration.

Evidently, there had been no need. They rounded the last corner and, finally, Kaer Morhen was looming up above them. As soon as his eyes fell on it, Jaskier gasped and ran ahead. He had, apparently, forgotten about his aching limbs he had complained about just that morning. "Is that it?" he asked excitedly. "Geralt, is this it?"

"No, it's another crumbling fortress in the Kaedwen mountains," he deadpanned.

"You're mean," Jaskier accused him and turned back around to the keep. "For months I've dreamt of this moment and what do you do? You mock me, truly a horrible habit, that- oh, gods, Geralt, it's so beautiful!"

"Hmm," he answered, watching Jaskier intently. The childish glee on his face, the snowflakes dancing around him and melting in his hair. "I guess so."

"Can we go inside?"

Another barbed comment was already on the tip of his tongue, but Geralt guessed that he shouldn't ruin the moment. Not if Jaskier was so happy. "We can. Come on."

They were still a good distance away when the gates creaked open and three bulking figures stepped outside. "You're early," he accused Eskel and Lambert once they caught up to them. They weren't supposed to be there. They were messing up Step Five: Meet the family. (Lambert Eskel Lambert Vesemir first.)

"And you're impolite," Vesemir grumbled. "I taught you better, Geralt."

"Hmm," he answered and the silence that followed might've been awkward if not for Jaskier.

Thanks to him there was no silence at all, to be precise. "You must be Vesemir; Geralt told me so much about you. Dare I say, Master Witcher, I am honoured and humbled by the invitation, and am looking forward to my stay. The name's Jaskier and I am at your service," he concluded and bowed with a flourish.

The three witchers gaped at him in surprise and Geralt couldn't help but grin. No overly detailed stories by him could've possibly prepared them for... well, Jaskier. "What," Lambert muttered quietly, "the fuck?"

"Now, that's just rude," Jaskier said as he straightened himself, "don't you think? Geralt, your brother is being rude to me."

It was all he could do not to laugh freely. Instead he shrugged and said: "Told you he's the rude one."

"Oh, you're Lambert!" The bard grinned widely and stretched out his hand. "Nice to finally meet you."

Lambert huffed in surprise and shook the offered hand. "Tell you what, bard, I'm not sure if I should be flattered or offended."

"Offended," Geralt mumbled just as Eskel said: "Flattered."

Jaskier smiled widely and wickedly. "Both."

Lambert opened his mouth, presumably to return a rude comment, but Jaskier's attention was diverted by Eskel, who gave him a thorough once-over and then nodded. "Welcome to Kaer Morhen, bard."

"Thank you, uh, Eskel?" he hazarded a guess.

A smile tugged on the unscarred corner of his mouth. "That's right."

"Dinner's in an hour," Vesemir cut in. "Maybe you could show our guest to his room, Geralt?"

Right. With the meeting out of the way it was time for Step Six: Show him to his room (Make sure it has some nice fur rugs - Vesemir) (Shag him on the rug - Lambert) (Offer to stay with him if he's cold - Eskel). Both of those additions seemed equally daunting to him.

But before he could even think of an excuse as to why he couldn't do that right now, Roach's reins were ripped from his hands and they were being pushed towards the keep.

"Well, they're certainly eager to get rid of you, considering they haven't seen you for a year," Jaskier quipped once they were inside the keep proper.

"That's not- hmm." 'Fuck.' He had almost betrayed himself. "They'll be different after dinner," he promised. "Besides, you know they can hear you."

"So?" He huffed a laugh. "I know they're just like you; all bark and no bite."

He was about to deny that claim but Lambert's offended howl that reached him from the courtyard quickly changed his mind. That definitely was worth the jab at his own ego. "Come on," he urged, smiling, "no need to continue playing the jester for them any further."

"Why, is there any issue with providing entertainment for a living?" Jaskier teased.

"Only if it's at the expense of me."

He sighed dramatically. "That I know, my dear. That I know."

"Jaskier?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up, I'm trying to give you a tour of the keep."

"You are? Oh, I wouldn't have noticed." Geralt shot him a dirty look. Jaskier snickered maliciously, the bastard. "Oh, yeah, yep. Shutting up. Go ahead, Sir Witcher, show me your magnificent home."

From anyone else it might've been mockery. It might've been mockery from Jaskier, too, if not for the sound of absolute awe in his voice as he took in their surroundings.

Geralt could hardly blame him. It might've been a long time since he had arrived at Kaer Morhen, but he still remembered how dumbstruck he had been at the sheer immensity of the place that should become since home.

It had lost its mysticism since then, but seeing Jaskier's childlike wonder as he led him through the kitchens and great hall made him remember. He showed him the library, too, as well as the stairs down to the hot springs that he must never, ever confuse with those that led to the laboratories.

He closed with the rooms the various witchers claimed as their own: "That's Lambert's room down the hall, don't go there, he's a prick; Vesemir is a few floors below us, claims he's too old for our squabbles; that's mine, and that one's Eskel's, ask him if you need something and I'm not there, not Lambert, he's an arsehole-"

"Geralt," Jaskier said soothingly and put a hand on his arm, "you're rambling."

"Am I?" he asked confused. "Don't think so."

"There's no need to be nervous, dear. I won't abandon you; you're stuck with me for the winter."

"I'm not nervous," Geralt insisted, his fingers twitching nervously.

"Right," Jaskier took his hand away, evidently not very convinced. "I'm sorry for interrupting you, then."

"Don't be," he mumbled, not quite able to tear his gaze from Jaskier's gentle smile.

"Geralt?"

"Hm?"

"Do I-" He started fidgeting with his lute strap. "Do I have a room, too? I mean, not that I mind sharing with you, that's not the issue at all- gods, I sound stupid-"

His eyes still trained on Jaskier, he reached behind him and opened the door. "There."

"That's my room?" he asked without turning around to look inside.

"That's yours," Geralt confirmed. He had prepared it last winter already. Just in case.

As soon as the words had left his mouth, the poet whirled around and rushed into the sparsely furnished room. He looked very much... out of place. The realisation hit him like a slap in the face; but apparently the visual of Jaskier and his bright purple doublet in the grey empty walls of Kaer Morhen was what it took for him to realise how little they were reconcilable.

For the first time in his life he felt self-conscious for his home. "'S not much," Geralt mumbled.

"It's wonderful." Jaskier beamed, carefully inspecting the bed and the rug, peering out the window and into the chest. "Might get a bit cold, though."

He grumbled something he knew to be unintelligible to humans into his beard.

"What was that, love?"

"You could always stay with me," he spoke up. "Y'know. We've shared before."

"That we have! You might find that before long you will be forced to let me take you up on your generous offer."

"Hmm," Geralt answered and left him to it, in order to complete Step Six.5: No, let him arrive first, you idiot! There would be no 'being forced' of any kind, but he wasn't quite ready to admit that to Jaskier, yet.

Despite their apparent incompatibility Jaskier settled into the routine of Kaer Morhen disturbingly quickly. Though 'settle into' wasn't quite the right choice of words. More like 'tear it down and build it anew, but with lyrics, laughter, and luminosity'.

The evening of their arrival was truly mortifying, the worst mix of embarrassing stories of Geralt's childhood and very inappropriate questions directed at Jaskier. Geralt had spent the whole dinner frozen in shock and awe at the masterful display of the bard's craftsmanship.

After an hour of vicious cross-examination, the three witchers had finally backed off. And as Vesemir had retreated to his rooms, Lambert had brought up the alcohol. It hall had spiralled out of Geralt's control after that.

Within the hour Lambert and Jaskier were japing and jabbing at each other as if they were lifelong friends and not acquaintances since a few hours. It took his bard three days to have Vesemir completely wrapped around his finger, intently listening to his droning lectures about basically everything. And not even a fortnight into their stay, he found Jaskier and Eskel in the library, talking with hushed voices. He quickly retreated but not before he heard Jaskier telling his brother how beautiful he was, scars or no scars, and Eskel sniveled quietly.

A month since their arrival saw them trapped into the castle by the heavy snowfalls. Unfortunately, that didn't stop Vesemir from drilling them mercilessly.

They were an hour into their morning routine when they all perked at the sound of soft footsteps passing through the hall. "Jaskier," Geralt said softly.

The bard was bundled up in several quilts, his face barely visible beneath the mess of his hair and the blankets. Still his face lit up with the brightest smile when he saw them. "Mornin', lads," he croaked, "lookin' good, keep it up." He gave them a tired thumbs-up and shuffled off to the kitchen, where Vesemir would provide him with a hot breakfast with a side of 'most-boring-information-on-this-earth'. It was their own morning routine of sorts, and the three of them knew it wouldn't be long before they were discussing the 'merits of the iambic pentameter in 10th century love poetry' or some shit.

"Fuck," Lambert cursed once they knew Jaskier to be out of earshot, "I really can't blame you, Geralt. Too much time with him and I start gawking like a love-sick idiot, too."

"Hmm," Geralt agreed. Jaskier definitely had that effect.

"Jealous, wolf?" Eskel inquired with a knowing smile.

"No," he answered earnestly. If anything, he loved Jaskier more for it. His family wasn't easy to deal with, he knew. But his bard didn't care. He had so much affection to give, even for witchers. 'Especially for witchers.' He closed his eyes with a happy smile.

"Y'know, there's still a couple of steps left on our list," Eskel informed him casually.

Geralt's eyes snapped open as his heart sped up. 'Fuck.' The plan. "Hmm."

"Just fucking get it over with," Lambert yearned. "Your pining isn't any less obnoxious just because he's here."

"If anything, it's gotten worse," Eskel agreed.

"So?" he snapped. He had put it off, that was true. Had waited for the snow, he told himself, but now the snow was here and-

"So, we'll distract him this afternoon," Eskel interrupted his spiralling thoughts.

"And you pull your head outta your arse and fucking follow through," Lambert added.

"Fine," he ground out. "We do that." Not before he kicked both their arses during their training, though, for being such utter dicks.

Before long, however, the inevitable happened. Morning passed over to noon, and, true to their words, Lambert and Eskel whisked Jaskier away after lunch. They left Geralt behind in the hall with a branch in his hands and nothing left to do but complete Step Seven: Hang up a mistletoe.

"Fuck," he muttered. Nearly one year had passed since they had come up with their conspiracy. One year to gather his courage, one year to come up with a plan, one year to at least think about where to fucking put it. "Fuck," he said again, for good measure.

He looked around. Looked to the rafters. Looked at the mistletoe. "Fuck it," he declared and tucked it away to scale up to the rafters.

He was already up there, dangling from one of the beams when he remembered that he had nothing to secure it with besides the silky ribbon that would never fit around it. He scowled darkly. He sure as hell wouldn't climb down and up again. Without further ado he pulled his dagger from his belt and drove it deep into the wood, pinning the mistletoe by the ribbon.

He climbed down again, making sure that it was visible from the ground. 'Perfect,' he decreed. With the mistletoe in place, it was now time for Step Eight: Have Lambert and Eskel inform Jaskier of the mistletoe and a strategically placed Geralt. 

He spun around to go and alert his brothers, when he heard a cheerful voice behind him: "Geralt! There you are, you mean witcher, I was wondering where you were hiding. You know, it is not nice to leave your, uh- bedmate all alone and freezing in the morning, and- oh." There was a thoughtful pause. "Now would you look at that."

Geralt heaved a long sigh. He dreaded turning around, for he had a very distinct feeling he knew already what he would see. And fuck, he was not ready for that step. For some stupid reason, he still did turned around.

Jaskier stood in the middle of the hall, squinting up at the ceiling. "Are my eyes deceiving me — and they might be, mind you, my eyes are not as good as a witcher's — or is that a mistletoe I spy up there."

He cursed internally. He knew he should've hung it lower. "Hmm," he answered, his heart beating in his throat. Why was his heart beating in his throat? It wasn't supposed to do that. His voice was surprisingly calm when he said: "Seems like it."

"Oh no!" he moaned woefully. "Quick, Geralt, come here and lift the curse!"

"Curse?" he inquired bemusedly as his feet moved without his volition. "What curse, Jaskier?"

The bard gasped. "Don't you know? When someone passes beneath a mistletoe, they are frozen to the spot until the curse is broken."

"Hmm," he stepped under the mistletoe, too. He should've known Jaskier would make up a story around this. It was just a tradition, for fuck's sake, no curse. Although a curse was certainly more romantic, even he had to admit that. "Must be a rare curse if a witcher's never heard of it."

"The rarest," Jaskier insisted and pointed at his cheek. "It may only be broken with a true love's kiss."

In light of what happened next, let it be known that, in Geralt's defence, he was panicking. Quite thoroughly so. Since the Trials his legs hadn't shaken like that anymore.

He had been promised a pep talk by his brothers before having to confront the situation at hand. And yet they were nowhere to be found and Jaskier was here, evidently expecting him to kiss him.

'Shit. Fuck. Shit fuck.' He was not ready; he was not ready; he was not-

"Geralt?" Jaskier ripped him from his thoughts. "Are you waiting till my nose grows icicles, or what?"

Still, he leaned forward, placing one hand on Jaskier's hip and the other on his shoulder, and pecked him on the cheek.

The cheek. That had not been the plan. That had not been the plan at all. And then, of all things, he heard himself ask: "Can you move again?"

Jaskier blinked, looking just as dumbstruck as Geralt felt. "I- I think so?" he stammered and moved to pull away, blushing furiously.

'Fuck, no,' he remembered thinking. And while he wasn't quite in control of his limbs again, what he did next was probably the single most clever thing he had done in his entire life. Gingerly almost, he tightened his grip on Jaskier. His head tilted to the side, an invitation, an escape.

His bard didn't move. Instead, he said: "Doesn't seem like it."

"Hmm," Geralt answered and leaned in closer. "Difficult curse, seems like. Let me try again."

Before he could even think of changing his mind, Jaskier had his arms looped around Geralt's neck and crushed their lips together. He did his best to reciprocate the kiss, which wasn't easy with fear still gripping his heart tightly, but then Jaskier crowded closer, moulding his body against Geralt's and that was all it took for the tension to seep from his bones and go limb.

It was a weird sensation; being wrapped in Jaskier's arms was so familiar, but he was also kissing Jaskier, which was new- 'Great gods, I am kissing Jaskier, I am kissing Jaskier, I am-'

He pulled back with a triumphant grin, evidently startling his bard. "What?" he asked, very confused.

"I am kissing you," he announced, his grin widening even more.

Jaskier frowned. "That you are, but-"

"I am kissing you," he said again and pecked him on the lips. "And I can keep doing it."

"Oh!" The frown eased away, giving way to the softest of smiles. "That you can, my dear."

So, Geralt did. Again. And again. And again, and again, and again. He didn't know how many times he had kissed Jaskier, how many times Jaskier had kissed him, before he pulled back and blurted: "I love you."

Jaskier stared at him in silent awe, before blushing and cupping his cheeks gently. "That you do, my love," he whispered. "And I love you, too." Softly, he pressed their lips together again.

"You do?" Geralt asked disbelievingly.

Jaskier smirked. "I do. For years and years, I have. I thought you knew."

"Fuck," he muttered. Did that mean... 'I didn't have to do any of this.' He could've just- "I'm an idiot."

"Only sometimes," he allowed, giggling sillily. Geralt was compelled to join in. "Besides, you’re my idiot, and I love you for it." He shifted a little, so he could lean his head comfortably onto Geralt's shoulder despite them being nearly the same height. 

"So," Jaskier drawled, curling a strand of Geralt's hair around his finger, "are we just going to keep standing here, or...?"

He scoffed. Of course, they wouldn't. He had a plan, after all. "Fuck." The plan.

Jaskier raised his head. "Is that a curse or an answer?"

"Yes," he answered warily.

It earned him the most beautiful snorting laugh he had ever heard. "What are you cursing at, love?"

"We skipped Step Eight," he admitted, "got right to Step Nine."

"Excuse me, what?"

"Step Nine: Kiss Jaskier." The poet just gawked at him. "I had a list," he explained.

"You had?" Jaskier's eyes lit up and he made grabby hands. "Show me, show me!"

Reluctantly, Geralt handed it over, studying Jaskier's face carefully as he read through it.

"I knew it," Jaskier concluded finally.

"Huh?"

"Oh, come on!" He threw up his hands. "You were acting weird all year round, Geralt! Not that I'm complaining, mind you, but still, weird. It took me about ten minutes to figure out there was some ploy at play." He laughed quietly and waved the paper around. "Though I never would've guessed what was amiss."

"You don't like it."

"On the contrary! It's a wonderful plan," the poet said and pecked him on the lips. "I've got to admit, though, Lambert was right: you should've just fucked me on that rug once we got here."

"Hmmm." Geralt nuzzled against Jaskier's neck, holding him closer when he tried to squirm away from the tickling sensation. "That still an option?"

"Very much so. I believe it has to be one more step before completing your list." He pulled him close and whispered against his lips: "Take me to bed, my love"

And how could Geralt refuse such a request? Especially if it coincided so luckily with Step Ten.

#my writing #the witcher #geraskier #elliestormfound #look i've got an ask #geralt of rivia #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #geraskier fanfiction #the witcher fanfiction #geraltxjaskier #geralt/jaskier #eskel #Lambert #vesemir #kaer morhen #kaer morons

[bellshells]

Nobody Can Know

REQUEST: Maybe something with George Weasley and a slytherin reader? He has a crush on her and Fred teases him for it, they start dating in secret but Fred tells their siblings and they all disapprove because they think she's evil (maybe because she's friends with Draco,Blaise etc) but she's actually quite nice but still a proud slytherin and fits all their attributes? If you even write for George that is?:) 

For @hinagiku0 x

Summary: This one got away from me. Reader and George enter a secret relationship that threatens the relationships of everybody close to them.  Warnings: Language, Fluff, Angst, Smut, slight praisekink!George. Everyone is of age. If the smut isn’t your thing, just stop reading at the bold text :)

Pairing: George Weasley x Slytherin Fem!Reader Word Count: 9k+ Part Two

This is my first reader insert, and I hope you enjoy it. Requests are open!<3

“That pathetic Weasley is staring at you again, (Y/N),” Draco whispered from his seat next to you. You whipped your head round in the direction that Draco was looking and saw the usual gaggle of Gryffindor girls fawning around the infamous Weasley twins as they tried to eat their breakfast. Although Fred was clearly enjoying the attention, balancing his spoon on his nose and earning laughs from his adoring crowd; George sat quietly by his brother’s side. His attention fixed quite intently towards the Slytherin table to where you sat sandwiched between Draco and Blaise, the latter’s interest quite firmly placed in conversation with Pansy Parkinson- but Draco noticed, and so did you. You offered George a small smile and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear as, with pink cheeks, George returned your smile. Draco looked incredulously between the two of you.   “Are you mad, (Y/N)? What do you think you’re doing?” He pinched your arm and you rubbed it with a groan.   “What?” You snapped, “I was just being friendly, a quality you clearly don’t possess.” Draco rolled his eyes and returned to his breakfast in silence, you continued to rub your arm as you shifted your gaze to once more meet with George’s. He was still smiling as Fred tapped him on the shoulder to leave, he stood and gave you a small wave. You were accustomed to feeling butterflies in your stomach whenever you looked at George Weasley and they fluttered with gay abandon as you watched him shoulder to shoulder with Fred leave the Great Hall with long strides.

  Nobody knew the way you felt about him and in truth, you had tried to tell yourself otherwise also. You knew if you were to tell any of your friends, your pureblood Slytherin friends that is, you would be met with nothing but disdain and you feared being lonely. The thought of being excluded from your friendship group was enough to keep your secret longing for George just that, a secret. Whilst you were a proud Slytherin and proud of your heritage and family name; the way your friends; especially Draco spoke about your classmates made you feel uncomfortable. You didn’t see anything wrong with being friends with half-bloods and muggleborns, hell, you wouldn’t be averse to being friends with a muggle themself if they were a nice person. But that too, you kept to yourself. You hoped that this prejudiced front Draco and the like portrayed was something he would grow out of, you knew that alone, he really was quite lovely. Having spent summer after summer visiting the Malfoy estate with your parents as a child, you came to realise that Draco’s parents buried him under a lot of pressure. The Malfoy name was weighted enough, and you knew Draco weathered his days carrying around his privilege like a heavy burden, terrified of putting one foot wrong. It was easier for him to act the part of willing crusader for the purification of wizard blood, than to actually think about the alternative. Your parents had instilled in you as you entered your third year that it was important for you to look out for Draco, keep him on the straight and narrow so to speak. That being said, you took silent solace in the time away from him. You were two years older than Draco and cherished your classes away from your childhood friend. But as the years had gone, you now in your seventh-year, and Draco in his fifth, you still felt compelled to stand by your promise to your parents. But being away from him meant you could interact with whomever you wished to, and for the most part that was George Weasley.

  You wondered whether he could hear your heart thundering in your chest as you took your usual seat next to him in Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall in her genius had chosen to separate Fred and George during their OWLs, so the seat next to George at the back of the classroom was always free, and you always took it. You reached into your bag for your parchment and a quill for George as he produced an ink pot and placed it in between the two of you. Another of your unspoken rituals, George never had a quill and in return for your consistent generosity, he shared his ink. He smiled in thanks as he took it from you, his fingers barely grazing yours in the exchange, yet it was enough to make your skin burn under his slight touch. You swallowed and shrugged your robes from around your shoulders, suddenly feeling very warm.

  Throughout the lesson, you exchanged few words with George. He knew you were struggling with retaining everything McGonagall was whizzing through, and you were grateful that he tried not to distract you. You were so worried about passing your NEWTs and you felt supremely out of your depth. With an exasperated sigh, you threw your wand onto the desk and thrust your head into your hands. You could feel George’s eyes on you and sure enough as you peeked through your fingers, he was frowning sympathetically as he poured a glass of water from the pitcher he had transfigured from a large leather bound book. A similar book sat on the desk in front of you, un-transfigured and mocking you.

  “Are you okay (Y/N)?” George asked softly. He offered you the glass of water and sat back in his chair.   “I’m never going to be able to do this.” You moaned and took the glass from George’s hand and took a tentative sip. “Tastes like Shakespeare.”   “Well that’s no good, it was bloody Marlowe!” He joked and picked up your wand and passed it to you. Begrudgingly you took it, but George didn’t remove his hand. Instead he placed it on top of yours and slowly guided your hand in the correct moment. You couldn’t keep your eyes from his face as he faltered in his slightly as his breath hitched in his throat.   “Well, something like that anyway.” George whispered, there was barely any space between you, and you were painfully aware of how close his body was to yours. You could feel the heat his embrace would offer if you were to lean back only slightly. Your chest heaved quickly as George’s gaze left your eyes and flickered down to your lips. You licked them subconsciously and George’s frown appeared again as he swiftly brought a hand to the back of his head with an exclamation of pain. You tore your gaze away from George as you both looked to the front of the classroom as Fred sat with a bag of boiled sweets, his arm raised above his head ready to launch another in your direction.   “Mr. Weasley!” A stern Scottish voice from somewhere near the front of the classroom brought every head in the room to attention. Professor McGonagall emerged from behind her desk and with a swish of her wand summoned the bag of sweets from Fred’s hand and clasped it in her own. “If you have transfigured your book into a pitcher, you can change it back again.” Fred groaned as he turned his back to you and George but not before shooting a wink in his brothers’ direction. George muttered under his breath as he relieved his grip on your wand and shuffled away from you. You could feel your cheeks warm as you took another sip of George’s water. After a few minutes of silence and you trying and failing to transfigure your book, George cleared his throat.   “(Y/N),” He began, “Would you like to meet me in the library before dinner and I can help you with transfiguration?”   “You want to help me?” You asked, he looked at you expectantly and nodded.   “More like I just want to put you out of your misery.” You giggled and gave him a wide smile.   “That would be wonderful, thank you George.”   “Shall we say five?”   “Sounds perfect.”   “Okay, brill.”   “Yeah, cool.”

    You paced back and forth in the Slytherin common room at quarter to five. Pansy eyed you suspiciously over a copy of The Daily Prophet and as you clocked her gaze as you paced towards the fireplace, she snapped it shut and threw it to the side.   “What’s the matter with you?” She muttered as she examined her fingernails.   “Nothing,” You replied checking your watch for the umpteenth time. “Just need to be somewhere soon.”   “Well piss off then, you’re doing my head in.” You threw Pansy a sarcastic grimace and picked up your discarded bag and made your way from the dungeons up the stairs towards the library.

  You were out of breath when you reached the large wooden doors and checked your watch, five minutes to spare. You looked at your reflection in the panes of glass and straightened your green and silver tie. You knew you were pretty, but at that moment you couldn’t help but pick out features of your complexion that suddenly filled you with loathing. You hoped George wouldn’t notice the spot forming on your chin, or the tuna you had for lunch, or the fact you had forgotten to run a brush through your hair before you left. You were too busy pacing. You pushed the heavy door open and began to search between the long lines of shelves to find a suitable place to meet with George. You began to move down a row of book lined shelves when you spotted two redheaded boys conversing in hushed tones. You inched closer towards them, careful to not let yourself be seen.

  “I’m just saying Georgie, of all the girls in school you had to pick her.” Fred whispered, George scowled and shook his head.   “You don’t understand, she’s different-”   “She’s a Slytherin, mate. And if that wasn’t bad enough, I swear she’s best pals with Malfoy!”   “Grow up, Fred. You don’t know anything about her!”   “And you do?” Fred countered coolly, he frowned at his brother and stood. “All I’m doing is asking you to consider all your options before you make any big decisions. Imagine what mum would say.” With that, Fred clasped George on the shoulder and went to leave, he caught your eye as you peered around the corner of the bookshelf and your heart froze as you knew you’d been caught.   “Alright (Y/L/N)?” Fred said cheerfully as he sauntered passed you.   “Fred.” You nodded in acknowledgment, your cheeks burning with shame. George pursed his lips as you approached him. He drew his fingers though his hair with a sigh as you perched on the edge of a nearby table. A heavy silence fell between the two of you as you waited to see if George would break it. You bit down on your lip. You shouldn’t have heard what you did, and you felt an immense guilt wash through you, but deep in the pit of your stomach was a little fire fuelled by hope. Does this mean George feels the same way you do?

  “George-”   “Did you hear much of that-” You and George said at the same time, you gave him a weak smile and he chuckled softly.   “(Y/N),” George began, he moved swiftly to sit alongside you on the table. His brown eyes searched your face intently. “I’m sorry if you heard- I mean, what Fred said…it’s just…” He fiddled with the frayed edge of his jumper; you had never seen George like this before. He was flustered and bashful and it made your heart swell. “I don’t really know how to say what it is I want to say.” He said finally. George stood and walked towards the big window that overlooked the courtyard. He placed an arm on the windowpane and leaned into it, his head flopped forward. You wondered whether you should say something, it didn’t seem like George was finished and in truth, you weren’t sure whether you would be able to articulate anything.

  “If I tell you something, will you promise you wont laugh at me?” George said, his shoulders slumped forward.   “I thought you loved to make people laugh?” You said casually, his head twisted in your direction a sly smirk nestled on his lips. He sighed once more and turned to face you.   “Yes obviously,” George said sarcastically, “But just for this one time, I need you to listen and not laugh. Okay?”   “Okay.” You agreed. George took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.   “I like you. A lot.”

  You felt like you had had the wind knocked out of you. George looked at you sheepishly, his hands once again finding the hem of his jumper. You blinked slowly, surely you were dreaming. You would wake up at any minute, the familiar sight of the green canopy around your bed would greet you and you would desperately try to return to your dream. And yet, you didn’t. No abrupt awakening, no fade to black, just George, lovely George waiting for you to say something.   “(Y/N?)”   “Yes. Lovely. Thank you.” You managed, you instantly cringed as the words left your mouth. Why did you say that? You had waited for as long as you could remember to get to this point with George, and instead of telling him you were completely in love with him, you thanked him. George’s hesitant smile began to fall, and your heart ached. “What I mean- George, is I-”   “No, it’s okay. Cheers for letting me say that.” George replied, he rolled the sleeves of his jumper up over his arms and stepped past you widely, his back to you in two short steps. Panicking, you grasped onto his wrist and stopped him short.   “Wait! Please wait!” You pleaded; George looked from your face down to your grip of his wrist. You let go immediately but moved rapidly to meet him. “I hadn’t finished.”   George shifted his weight awkwardly from foot to foot, he crossed his arms over his chest in anticipation.    “You really like me?” You asked softly, you hoped your face did not betray the sheer pandemonium happening inside your mind. George scoffed.    “Don’t take the piss out of me, (Y/N).”   “I’m not!” You protested. “I’m just a bit shocked George, that’s all-”   “I don’t think I could have made it any more obvious, and, not forgetting the fact I just said the words out loud. To your face.” He snapped.   “George, can I get a bloody word out please? Merlin, you can be so frustrating when you want to be.” You sighed; George raised his eyebrows. “It’s quite lucky that you like me really, because it turns out that I…like you…too.” You bit down on your lip, slightly anxious as to what George would say. The taller boy just stared at you, unblinking.   “Sorry, what?”   “I…like you, George? And I’m happy that you like me?”   “Right…well, okay then.”

  A laugh of pure elation fell from your lips as George’s bewildered look turned into one of joy. He embraced you in an instant, his hands found your hips as he pulled you close into him. The contact surprised you, it took you a moment to react, but soon enough you brought your arms up around his broad shoulders, reaching up on your tip toes. You couldn’t supress the grin that was so wide it made your cheeks tingle as George surrounded every part of you. His arms tight around your back and his chin brought down to rest against your head. You didn’t want to pull away, but the sound of a throat being cleared somewhere behind you caused the pair of you to spring apart. Madame Pince removed a book from a far-away shelf and raised a knowing eyebrow in your direction. You covered your mouth with your hand to conceal an involuntary giggle. George flashed you a brilliant smile and exhaled jubilantly.   “So, I suppose it’s time for the cheesy bit.” George smiled, his hand found yours with ease and he entwined his fingers with yours. “(Y/N), would you like to be my girlfriend?”

  “I would genuinely like nothing more, it’s just…” You averted your gaze, your cheeks growing warm once again. You contemplated your options, the boy you were absolutely mad for had just asked you to be his girlfriend and you were happy, of course you were. But you couldn’t shake the lump that appeared in your chest when you thought about having to tell your friends that you were with a Weasley. Not only that, the conversation you had overheard between Fred and George signalled that perhaps his friends held the same apprehensions.   “What?” George asked earnestly, he rubbed your knuckles with his thumb. You smiled at his touch and swept your eyes over his sweet features.   “I don’t think people would be very accepting of our relationship, George.” You said quietly, unable to disguise the trepidation in your voice. George smiled sadly and gestured for you to return to your perch on the table.   “I hate to say this, but I have to agree with you.” He said. “Not that I have anything against Slyth-”   “No, I understand. Believe me, I do.” You recalled all the tedious conversations with your Slytherin peers about the blood traitors that were the Weasleys. You shook your head to free yourself from the memory and sighed. “What do we do?”   “Well, I do have an idea…” George whispered, he wiggled his eyebrows at you suggestively and you laughed heartily at him.

     George held your hand as you walked briskly down the seventh-floor corridor, you threw a look behind you to see if you were still being pursued. Professor Umbridge stalked your trail, followed by members of the Inquisitorial Squad namely Crabbe and Goyle. Draco had begged you to join his fifth year friends in becoming member of Umbridge’s little crusade, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to agree. You had bullshitted an excuse about needing whatever spare time you had to study for your NEWTs and Draco, although suspicious, had accepted it. George tugged on your hand as he quickened his pace, your robes flapped behind you and you couldn’t supress your grin as you once more looked behind your shoulder. Professor Umbridge raised her hand and opened her mouth to speak just as George whipped you round a corner and shoved you into an empty classroom. You laughed headily as he pointed his wand at the door and locked it with a muttered spell. You smoothed your hands over your skirt and waited for George to approach you.

  “We really must stop meeting like this, Mr. Weasley.” You smiled, George wrapped his arms around you tightly and lowered his lips to meet yours. It had been three months since he had asked you to be his, and yet you still weren’t accustomed to his touch. It still sent electric pulses coursing throughout your body with every deft movement of his fingertips, and you shuddered as he moved his hand over your rump and gave it a hearty squeeze. George, who was always the more dominant one out of the pair of you nearly always arranged your meetings. While it had been three months since you commenced your relationship, it had been three months of scurrying around in secret and lying to your friends, and in George’s case, lying to his family. George deepened the kiss, his tongue pressed against your lips requesting entry, which of course you granted. Your hands found their way to George’s soft hair and you pulled on it slightly, eliciting a groan from him. You smirked into the kiss as George walked you backwards and hoisted you up onto a vacant desk, you wrapped your legs around him instinctively and he pushed his hips into you. He pulled away from the kiss breathlessly and grasped either side of your face in his hands. He studied you intently as he rubbed his thumbs over your cheeks.   “I love you, (Y/N). You know that, don’t you?” You pulled him into you again and ravished his neck with feverish kisses. That was the first time those words had fallen from his lips, you felt like you could melt at the sound of this boy telling you he loved you over and over again. You nipped at the skin there, feeling emboldened by his declaration of love. You didn’t know whether it was the excitement of getting caught or whether you were running on sheer elation, but you couldn’t get your fill of George.   “Georgie,” You whispered into his shoulder as his hands gripped onto your thighs tightly as he pushed his groin against your core. “You make me so happy.”   “I want to make you feel more than happy.” George winked as he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your face towards his and crushed his lips against yours.

“George! What the fuck?!”

  A voice from behind you startled the pair of you as you immediately pulled away from George, instantly missing the contact. Fred stood agape in the open doorway flanked by Ginny and Ron each looking equally shocked. You looked at George who had flushed scarlet and had his gaze trained intently on the floor. Ginny let out a stunned gasp and turned on her heel and exited swiftly out of the room. Ron shook his head sadly at his older brother and followed Ginny, calling after her as he went. Fred remained still, his hands balled into fists and his knuckles white with fury.   “I thought we agreed, George.” Fred spat. He made a step towards his brother and squared up to him, their faces inches apart.   “No. We didn’t.”   “You lied to me. You said nothing was going on.”   “Fuck off then if you don’t like it. I don’t care anymore, Fred.” You watched in horror as George pushed Fred away by his chest, but quick as a flash, Fred caught George’s hands in his own and pushed him back harder.   “You’re a mug.” Fred muttered as he rolled his sleeves up and looked you up and down before chuckling darkly to himself and leaving, slamming the door behind him. A heavy silence descended onto the room as you shuffled down from the desk and chewed on your lip. You couldn’t help but feel guilty as you watched George sigh and run his hands over his face. You bent down to retrieve your bag and haphazardly threw it over your shoulder, you felt your stomach flip on itself as George looked at you tearfully. There was nothing you could do. George said that he didn’t care, you knew it wasn’t true. You were a Slytherin, a pureblood from a long line of wizards with dubious intentions and had long been affiliated with controversial families. There was nothing you could do in this situation to make it any better for you, or for George. You took George’s shaking hand in yours and gave it a tight squeeze before you let it fall back to his side. You quietly made your way out of the room and descended the many stairs towards your common room, the quiet of your dormitory offered you a much-needed solace. George made no attempt to speak or to come after you, and you were glad that he didn’t. He needed to speak to his family, he needed to speak to Fred.

  You tried not to worry about him, but that was easier said than done. You hadn’t told him you loved him when he had said it to you, but it seemed inappropriate to say it now. You hoped he already knew.

  Draco was waiting for you when you entered the common room. He stood with his arms folded over his chest with an impatient tapping of his foot, he reminded you of his mother. Narcissa was always scolding you as children for dilly-dallying, and with Draco’s long features, he looked just like her. “Where have you been?” He snapped. You tried to move passed him, you averted your eyes to the floor. Draco caught your arm and pulled you backwards. “Where have you been?” He demanded,  “And don’t lie.”   “Why? Are you spying on me now?” You countered, you shrugged out of his grasp and narrowed your eyes. He looked at you dumbfounded.   “Spying on you! I’m looking out for you, (Y/N). Or had you forgotten that we’re supposed to be friends?” Draco thundered, he inched closer to you, his grey eyes alight with anger.   “Friends don’t ambush friends when they’ve had a really shitty day.” You spat, you tried once more to move round Draco, but he blocked your path.   “Goyle saw you with the weasel, holding his hand. Do you not have any shame?” Draco paused as he tried to gauge your reaction. He hesitantly placed his hands on your shoulders. “(Y/N),” He said softly, “Tell me you’re not seeing him.”   “Move aside, Draco.”   “(Y/N) please, this is for your own good. I’m trying to-”   “Move aside.”   “I shall not. I demand you tell me everything that’s happened between you and that horrid muggle-loving traitor-” You snatched your wand from your robes and held it up to Draco’s throat, his eyes widened in fear as he instinctively took a step back.   “Not a single person in my family has ever taken orders from a Malfoy, and I don’t expect to start doing so now.” You said venomously. “I asked you politely to move aside, yet you feel compelled to irk me further on a day when you really don’t want to piss me off.” You stood unwavering, wand raised and watched unblinking as a bead of sweat trickled down Draco’s forehead. “Now, fuck off.”

  Draco nearly fell over his feet as he scurried into the shadows of the dark room. You continued your journey into your dormitory and pulled your jumper over your head as you flopped backwards onto your bed. Thankfully, the room was empty. You rolled onto your side and pulled your knees up to your chest. You felt peculiar, like you needed to cry and yet no tears came. Instead, you stared blankly off into the middle-distance, replaying the moment you were found by George’s siblings in your mind. The looks of abject horror etched on their faces. You wanted to find them, to try and persuade them that you weren’t the person that they thought you were. That with each passing day spent with George made you feel lighter and unburdened, that you thought that you maybe had a chance at real happiness. Not tainted with the pressure set upon you by your parents to find a nice Slytherin boy, maybe someone who graduated a few years ago and now has an up and coming job in the Ministry. His family name would be one rolled around with mentions of the Dark Lord, of course, and you didn’t want that. You were a proud Slytherin yes, you were cunning and ambitious and every other cliché;  but your ambition wasn’t to marry a boring man who would more than likely be sent to Azkaban; your ambition was a tall redheaded boy from Devon who made you laugh and filled your days with joy. You wanted lots of little George’s running around in a house with an abundance of windows that the sun could shine through. You wanted a large, comfy sofa that you could curl up after a hard day and know that the arms surrounding you belonged to him. You wanted a bed that could be the setting for endless nights of pleasure and a dining table scratched and wonky, that the family you made could sit and talk freely, not even sparing a thought as to who might be listening.

  You didn’t know you had fallen asleep until you were awoken by the sound of your dormitory door opening, and the two girls you shared with piling in after dinner. Almost comically, your stomach grumbled as you sat and rubbed your eyes wearily. You exchanged polite pleasantries with your dormmates as they started to change from their uniforms. You threw your cloak over your shoulders and pulled the hood up over your head. You ignored anybody that tried to accost you as you left the common room and crept to the kitchens. You had only done this a handful of times, you didn’t know the names of the House Elves that worked tirelessly in the kitchens, but you were always polite, and they seemed to appreciate that. You had tried to ask where the bread was kept so you could make yourself a sandwich, but with a few protestations from you, the little creatures had prepared a lovely supper for you. You wrapped your sandwiches and slice of Victoria sponge securely in a piece of delicate cloth, cradling the pear they had forced you to take in the crook of your arm. You thanked them warmly and hurried through the now darkening corridors. You knew if you were to be caught by Filch or Umbridge, it could spell a horrendous amount of trouble for you. Thankfully, you arrived back to your dormitory unscathed and now ravenous. You got into bed and closed the curtains that surrounded the frame and settled in.

  It was difficult for you to relax. You continued through the motions almost on autopilot, you undressed for bed and shuffled to the loo to brush your teeth before climbing heavily into bed. You scrunched your eyes closed and willed sleep to come, the steady breathing of your dormmates tormented you as you tossed and turned. Your concern for George was like a dripping tap, it vibrated in your head with every breath you took. You had waited so long to reach the steady happiness you had with him, and in one afternoon it had potentially been taken away. You tried not to be selfish, you tried not to think about your loss; the way Fred had looked at you both was an image you knew you wouldn’t forget in a hurry. But, you wished for nothing more than to be with George. You wanted to feel his sturdy embrace, his gentle kisses against your head and to hear his heart beating rhythmically in his chest. You simply wished for things to be different.

    Three days. Three days it took to receive word from George. The weekend trundled by slowly, with Professor Umbridge’s ever increasing list of banned activities; there wasn’t much left to do. You spent much of your time in your dorm reading, you emerged for mealtimes but kept to yourself, ensuring you were seated far away from Draco. Your seventh-year friends pleased that you had managed to shake off the younger boy. Embarrassed to speak to Draco after you had pulled out your wand and embarrassed that he knew about you and George, you were grateful for the space. You always kept your eyes on your plate or on whomever was speaking to you in the Great Hall, not daring to look over to the Gryffindor table, no matter how much you wished to. You could feel George watching you, it was almost like you had a sixth sense, you were constantly aware of his presence in any room you shared. But you didn’t look. Monday night, after a disastrous day and a near silent Transfiguration lesson, George slipped you a note as you went to leave.

(Y/N),

Please meet me after Quidditch practise this evening. I think it would be good to have a chat.

George

  So, that was it. Three days of radio silence for twenty words. You tried not to be annoyed, and quite successfully really, as your annoyance gave way to anxiety as you imagined the inevitable conversation that you would have with George. You couldn’t blame him for choosing his familial relationships over the one he shared with you, but you had began to think that if the time ever came for you to ever make that decision; you would perhaps choose the opposite. You loved him. But you wouldn’t be a point of contention. You prepared your gracious acceptance for his words, confident that he was going to end the relationship. Making it anymore difficult than it needed to be was the last thing you wanted to do, you craved a little normality. The only trouble was that George had become your new normal.

  You cursed to yourself as you wrapped your scarf around your neck as you made your way to the quidditch pitch. The Gryffindor practise was just about to finish, and silently you waited on the other side of the players entrance, partially concealed by a tall beam of timber. You chewed absentmindedly on the inside of your cheek, it was cold, and you felt very conflicted. One by one the players descended from dizzying heights and dismounted their brooms. Angelina Johnson gestured for her team to leave the pitch and you tried to hide further behind the beam until you could get George on his own. The redheaded twins were the last to pass you by, they spoke brightly to one another. You strained to hear what they were saying.

  “…promise you.” George said to his brother. “…not going to regret this.” The boys moved swiftly through the covered walkway and you hurried after them, your steps muffled by the grass underfoot.   “…must be amazing, eh Georgie?” Fred joked and wiggled his eyebrows, George threw his head back in laughter and out of the corner of his eye, caught sight of you.   “(Y/N)!” He exclaimed; George flung his broom over to Fred as he rushed to meet you. He seemed to struggle with what to do with his hands, they had reached out to you on impulse, but you stood unwavering. George’s arms dropped back to his sides. He cleared his throat, his brown eyes seared into yours. “Can you come with us, (Y/N)?” George gestured to Fred and he pointed through the players entrance into the direction of the changing rooms.   “Why?” You scrunched your face in confusion, “I’m not that kind of girl, George.” George’s face turned a very flattering shade of beetroot and Fred snickered, he reached for your arm and tucked it into the crook of his elbow.   “Merlin, no. Nothing like that.” George snapped; you fell into step with the twins as Fred pushed open the door to the male changing room. Inside, like a frightening family portrait sat Ron and Ginny, both stone-faced and waiting. You froze as you took in the scene, Fred moved to sit next to Ginny and Ron shuffled in his seat. George placed a hand on the small of your back and ushered you into the room, closing the door behind you.

  You stood awkwardly, every pair of eyes burned into each inch of your skin and you felt like you were on fire.   “Right.” George began, he offered you a quick smile as he pulled up two stools for the pair of you to sit on, opposite where the other three sat. “My brothers and sister have agreed to have a chat with you- with us, I mean, so they can see what you’re- I mean, we’re like. Together.” He gave you a pained expression, and you could see his pulse throb in his neck. He was nervous. Why was he nervous?   “Why don’t they just ask me?” You stated, your resolve hardening as you knew they were here to interrogate you, not to get to know their brother’s girlfriend.   “I’ve never known Slytherins to be that forthcoming.” Ginny said raising an eyebrow.   “Maybe you’re not asking the right questions.” You countered and the younger girl scoffed, she crossed her arms over her chest and eyed you suspiciously.   “I don’t think we need to ask any questions at all,” Ron said quietly, “Slytherin, friends with Malfoy in this day and age, all these rumours of dark wizards in well-known families coming out of hiding…says it all really. What else could we possibly need to know?”   “You know nothing about me and what? You assume I’m a Death Eater because of my house and my family name?” You spat, you stood to leave but George grasped hold of the sleeve of your robe and pulled you back to your seat.   “I’m asking you to please just get to know (Y/N). I’m not asking you to be best mates with her, none of us like Fleur, but we all just get on with our lives.” George tried to level, Ginny just rolled her eyes and Ron tapped his foot impatiently. “(Y/N), why don’t you tell them one thing about yourself, that they might be surprised to hear.” He put an arm around your shoulders and brought his lips to your ear and whispered; “Please darling, I really want this to work. It’s taken me ages to get them to agree to do this.” He paused. “I don’t want to hide anymore.” The earnest look in his eyes made your heart flutter and you sighed deeply. You nodded.   “Um. I’m crap at Transfiguration.” You murmured half-heartedly and Fred chuckled, smacking his knee with his hand.   “That’s no secret, (Y/N). Tell us something we don’t know.” He said boisterously. You racked your brain for anything you could say that might endear you to them. They didn’t have to like you, just tolerate you.   “My parents want me to marry as soon as I leave school. They’ve already started looking for potential suitors for me.” You said quietly, you felt George stiffen beside you and his arm tightened around your shoulders.   “Is that true?” He said softly, “Why didn’t you tell me?”   “I don’t like thinking about it.” You shrugged. Ginny leaned forward in her seat; her hand covered her mouth concealing any emotion she might be feeling.   “Why are you friends with Malfoy?” Ron probed; George hastened to shut his brother up when you placed an arm on his.   “No, it’s fine. I can answer, it’s fine.” Ron looked smugly at George before he returned his attention back to you. “My parents asked me to look out for him when he started school. I know he’s a bit of a knobhead, but when he’s by himself he’s actually quite sweet.”   “Bollocks!” Ron exclaimed loudly. “He called Hermione a m-”   “I know.” You interrupted, there was no need to be reminded of the awful words Draco had used toward Hermione Granger. You had heard all about it after the first time it had happened, and you didn’t speak to him for a week afterward. You hoped it might help him re-evaluate some of his choices, but alas, it did not. “I was really annoyed with him about it, and please understand, I would never use a slur like that.”

  Ron smiled at that. You had often wondered whether Draco perhaps held a deeper interest in Hermione Granger, of course he would vehemently deny it whenever the idea was brought up. Ron Weasley on the other hand, made his feelings abundantly clear. If not to himself, but to everybody else.   “Why should we believe you?” Ginny pressed, “Why should we think that you’d be a good match for George?”   “You don’t have to believe anything, Ginny.” You said softly, your gaze drifted to where George sat at your side. You felt tears prickle your eyes as you thought about how much he meant to you; how much you were willing to sacrifice for him. “I don’t have any ulterior motives for wanting to be with George. I’m actually endangering the standing I have within my family by being with anyone other than a pureblood Slytherin,” Fred winced at your words. “But it doesn’t matter to me. I hope you come to realise that I’m much more than my house. I’ve long lived by the mandate of if you’re nice to me, I’ll be nice to you; it’s really as simple as that.” The three siblings seemed to take in your words in silence, George gave your shoulder a squeeze and gave your cheek a chaste kiss. You frowned as you looked between the Weasleys, your heart pounded in your chest. Fred crossed his arms and sat back in his seat.   “Do you love him, (Y/N)?” He asked, it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room as Ron and Ginny inched forward in anticipation of your reply.   “With all my heart.” You answered and placed your hand on George’s thigh. “I love you, George.” You said with the most earnest look you could muster, George beamed at you.

  “Well isn’t this something…” You turned your head in the direction of the voice which came from behind you, Draco stood in the doorway of the changing rooms flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. The badges for the Inquisitorial Squad glistened at their breasts, the three Slytherins raised their wands slowly and pointed them in your direction. You stood immediately and faced the intruders with a hateful glare, removing your own wand from inside your robes and aiming in their direction.   “Following me again, Goyle? Crabbe?” You snapped at the two idiots, they exchanged uneasy glances and looked to Draco for reassurance. Draco only smirked at you; he extended his hand to you.   “(Y/N) come, you don’t need to be here when Professor Umbridge arrives.” Draco said slyly, you felt George tense next to you.   “No thank you, Draco. I’m quite happy here.” You levelled; you kept your wand trained intently onto Draco. The blonde boy scoffed and stretched his fingers out as though to reach for you.   “I’ll not ask you again, (Y/N), come here.” His smile appeared strained as once again he offered his hand. You looked between your housemates and George and his family and knew what you needed to do.   “I have no idea who you think you’re talking to, Malfoy. It certainly appears like you’re trying to command the last daughter of the (Y/L/N)’s, and I know you’re not that brave. Your pathetic little family means nothing to me, no matter how much money your spineless father throws around. So no, I will not go anywhere with you and your mindless goons.” You were breathless. You heard Ron behind you mutter a bloody hell and Draco’s face contorted into one of rage.   “Crabbe, Goyle.” Draco ordered, with a nod the two idiots lurched towards you.   “Impedimenta!” You cried with a flourish of your wand, like a shot Crabbe and Goyle were knocked off their feet with groans of pain as they hit the stone floor. George was by your side in an instant, wand raised toward Draco.   “Expelliarmus.” George disarmed Draco with ease and caught Draco’s wand in his free hand as it flew through the air. Goyle stood unsteadily on his feet and caught Crabbe by his robes and hoisted the smaller boy to his feet. They scurried out of the room and dragged Draco with them, the blonde-haired boy’s startling grey eyes didn’t leave yours.

  When the room was still and the sound of heavy footsteps disappeared, you turned to face Fred, Ron and Ginny. George’s arm snaked around your hip as you stood and bit your lip. Ginny was the first to step forward, she looked at you sadly and put her arms around your shoulders and pulled you in for a tight hug. You were surprised by the contact and it took a moment before you wrapped your arms around her back and embraced the hug. Ginny pulled back after a moment and turned to face Ron, who smiled at you and gave your shoulder an awkward squeeze.   “Bloody hell, (Y/N). I’ve never seen anyone stand up to Malfoy like that.” Ron said and looked between you and George.   “That can’t have been easy.” Ginny added, “We should leave though, if Umbridge is coming that is.” It was unanimously agreed to return into the main body of the castle, Ginny and Ron left first, you remained where you were. George still held fast to your waist and Fred stared at the floor.   “So? Freddie?” George whispered. “Come on mate, don’t tease me like this.”   “You were right.” Fred said, he brought his gaze slowly from the floor until it settled on your face. “She is different. And I’m happy for you.” George beamed brightly at his brother as he gave his consent. You couldn’t help but exhale and grin at the twins, George pulled Fred closer to the pair of you and pulled you both in for a crushing hug. You laughed as you were thrown about by George’s jubilant swaying, George kissed the top of your head and then kissed the top of Fred’s.   “Oh look, my two-favourite people in the whole world.” George laughed, Fred pulled away and offered his hand to you. You shook it with a smile.   “Suppose I best send an owl to mum, get her to knit another Christmas jumper.” Fred winked at you before he shook his head and exited the changing room. You looked up at George’s face with a confused expression and he simply shook his head. He turned you to face him and clasped your face in his hands.   “You love me then?” He said, his gaze dancing from your lips up to your eyes and back down again.    “I always have,” You answered, closing the distance between you and brought your lips to meet George’s. He accepted your kiss hungrily, not wasting any time in exploring your mouth with his tongue.   “I love you so much, (Y/N). The air I breathe wouldn’t matter to me if you weren’t by my side.” His hands drifted down your back and travelled under your skirt, taking firm hold of your bum. He squeezed it and gave it a playful slap; you felt a stirring deep in your stomach as George’s hands roamed over your body. Your hands tangled in his hair as you kissed along George’s jawline and down his neck. Feeling brave, you moved your hands under George’s quidditch robes and pushed them from his shoulders. He shrugged his arms free and let his robes fall to the floor with a thud, your robe was next, it joined George’s on the floor as he tugged at your jumper. You pulled it over your head quickly and connected your mouth with George’s for another searing kiss.   “I could be homeless,” You said kissing George’s neck, “Penniless,” Another kiss, “Hungry,” A bite, “And cold.” You trailed your tongue along his bottom lip. “But none of that would matter as long as you were mine.” He growled as he kissed you passionately, he pushed his hips into yours and you groaned.

  George broke the kiss suddenly; you were panting and the heat in your knickers was becoming to powerful to ignore.   “Fancy a shower?” He asked devilishly.

    The water ran hot over your shoulders as you kissed George desperately. He palmed at your breasts as you ran your hands down his shoulder blades, your fingernails scraped their way down his back, and he shuddered under your touch. His mouth kissed down your chest as he took your nipple in his mouth, he rolled his tongue over your stiffened peak and grazed it with his teeth. You moaned at the sensation and rubbed your thighs together, desperate for relief. His hand wandered down from your breast and fluttered over your core, your head rolled back as you whispered his name.   “God, I want to touch you so badly.” George growled, you smirked down at him. His hair now sopping from the water and fell into his eyes, you deftly moved the heavy red locks out of his face.   “Then touch me.” That was all George needed. He dropped to his knees in front of you, kissing down your chest and your stomach as he pushed you backwards until your back hit the cold tiled shower wall. George had charmed the door of the changing rooms and the communal showers now acted as your own sanctuary, you watched as he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder and buried his face into you.

  He licked your clit gently, and you hissed at the much-needed contact. His hands found their way around your thighs and held you steadily in place. He suckled on your raised nub and waves of pleasure coursed through you. You bucked your hips against George’s mouth, and he gave a throaty laugh which vibrated through you deliciously. He flattened his tongue against you and shook his head, the friction on your sex was almost more than you could bear, but George continued relentlessly. He pulled you even closer into him, his tongue following the shape of your folds until ultimately, it was inside you. He fucked you with his tongue as his nose brushed against your clit, he quickened his pace to match the gyrating of your hips and hummed into your centre as he worshipped you. You guided his head with your hands, sticking it in place as you felt your orgasm build.   “Georgie,” You breathed, “You’re going to make me cum.” He didn’t respond, he just continued in his devotion of your cunt. Pulse after pulse of pleasure electrified your body as you came hard and loud. George lapped at you like he couldn’t get his fill, allowing you to rub yourself on his face as you rode out your high. When he stood, you were unsteady on your feet and George grasped hold of your waist and grounded you. You lazily swept your gaze over his lean form; he was surprisingly muscly, and his toned abs glistened under the running water. George was painfully hard, you could see his cock twitching, like it begged to be played with. He kissed you then, full of the same hunger as before and you returned his desire by taking hold of his member in your hand and giving it a hard squeeze. George spluttered and thrust his hips forward into your hand. You looked up at him innocently as you smirked at him, his eyes half closed.   “Would you like to fuck me, Georgie?”

  He moaned into your shoulder as he lifted you up by your legs and wrapped them around his waist. George again pushed your back against the wall as he lined himself up with your centre. He looked into your eyes and gave you a gentle smile before you nodded, and he pushed himself into you. You both let out moans of pleasure at the sensation of him filling you to the hilt, George’s legs threatened to buckle as you adjusted to his length. This wasn’t the first time that you had been intimate with George, but this time felt different. He gazed into your eyes as he thrust into you, his brow furrowed as you moaned. He felt so good inside you, he filled you to the brim and then some and there was pain, but the pain was so delectable that you cherished it.   “Such a good girl,” George cooed as he thrust into you. “Such a good girl taking my cock.” With each delicious thrust from George, you could feel him as he bruised your cervix, he rutted into you shamelessly, a string of curses fell from his lips as he tried to silence himself by biting down on your shoulder.   “Oh God George, I love you.” You whined, you felt like you were on fire. “I love you; I love you; I love you.” You eyes fluttered closed as you bounced on his cock, you felt that same stirring in your stomach start to build, George could sense it too as his thrusts became more desperate.   “The way you stood up to Malfoy really turned me on.” He grunted. “Such a good girl standing up for your man.” He suckled on your neck, no doubt marking you. “Good girls get rewarded.” His hands around your thighs would leave marks, you knew, but you didn’t care. Your orgasm built steadily, the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the space and echoed around you, wet and hot. You came at the same time, he moaned loudly as his cock twitched inside you and filled you deep with his hot load. Your walls tightened around him with your orgasm, milking him to utter completion. George breathed heavily as he gently set you down. You captured his lips for a kiss, different than before, more tender.

  You dressed hurriedly and scurried through the castle careful to not be seen by Filch or anybody else. He walked you down the steps to the dungeons, stopping only when you came to the entrance to the Slytherin common room. Elated, you threw your arms around his shoulders and kissed hm deeply. George chuckled and pulled back to look at you, his thumbs stroking your cheeks.   “Goodnight darling, I hope you dream of me.” He said softly, in the near blackness of the dungeons you could barely make out his features. You pecked his lips once more and turned to enter the common room, you stopped just before you stepped over the threshold and turned back.   “George?” You whispered into the darkness, you hoped he was still there.    “Yes?” His unmistakable voice replied.    “I love you. You mean everything to me. I know there’s nothing that we can’t do if we’re together.” You whispered, you could feel a tear threaten to fall as you thought of all the people that were going to find out about your relationship and what you had to tell them, what you stood to lose.   “Exactly my darling, I’ll be there by your side. Forever, I promise.” You heard him chuckle, “Well, maybe not in your Transfiguration exam. You’re on your own with that one, I’m afraid.” You rolled your eyes and took one last look into the blackness, just about to make out his figure.   “Goodnight then, I love you.”    “Goodnight, (Y/N). I love you too.”

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x slytherin!reader #fred weasley #Ron Weasley #ginny weasley #draco malfoy #reader insert #slytherin reader #order of the phoenix #Harry Potter #harry potter reader insert #requests #nobody can know

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

Majority of people friendzone VMIN, even though they're clearly sweeter/softer compared to other ships. But do you think, JM and V likes it that way? I mean, bec people friendzone them, they can somehow freely do anything with lesser suspicions. They can getaway with handholding or any other actions that can seem "too romantic" for some. What do you think?

This is a really interesting question and we’ll admit we’ve thought and talked about it a couple of times before. And we agree. Especially if you take Friends into consideration which, on a marketing and PR level, was a genius move on both Jimin’s (and Tae’s) but also BHs part. By giving the song such a name, it validated certain people’s opinion that “they are just friends”, highlighting the age old agenda of downplaying vmin interactions, as a large portion of the fandom do, so that now, like you said, they can hold hands or do other cute things together and they don’t have to worry about anyone suspecting anything, besides maybe vminnies but in comparison there are far fewer of us. We’ve seen countless instances where the comment section under a cute/soft vmin picture or video were filled with “awww they are such cute friends” and “aww they remind me of me and my sister” type replies, while if you look at similar pictures/videos of any other two members, the comments are filled to the brim with “awww boyfriends” or “x and x are so married, look how cute they are”.

The thing is that, in a way, Friends and the “vmin are just besties” agenda have fulfilled several different purposes, besides being a song that celebrates their bond (being the primary point of it all). What we mean is more about how by “confirming” vmin as “just” friends, it gave certain people a sense of security, as in that vmin are no longer a “threat” to their fantasies, but also a feeling of security that “if they are just friends than that means they are not gay and I can continue liking them and B/TS” (yes, I’ve seen such comments and they left me feelings very yikes as well). And those are just a few examples.

Let’s look at the way Friends was performed at BangBangCon. Jimin and Tae wore their former school uniforms, had dumpling props, and the stage was designed to mimic the bus stops for their school but also where BH used to be. Through this they’ve essentially created this vision and idea in people’s minds that “aw they are such cute school friends” (you can find comments like that on all possible sns platforms under any and all vmin content that reaches past just vminnies). They knew many won’t go read the lyrics and thus won’t know how meaningful and deep they are, most just heard a happy, upbeat song along with seeing that stage performance, and voila the “vmin friends” agenda is thriving.

But, in the grand scheme of things, even if some of this might sound a little harsh or stupid (which it is), it makes sense if you remember how private Jimin is about his private life (here’s a great review of Friends that goes into detail about Jimin in this context), how he rarely shares anything truly personal with us, and he himself once said that he doesn’t like sharing his favorite things and people (Winter Bear or “Go play with your hwarang hyungs”). Tae might seem a bit more open when it comes to gushing about Jimin, and yet even he still chooses his words very wisely, carefully, and says just enough for us to understand what he means yet without giving away any too specific details. So, by creating Friends and playing into that idea that some in the fandom already had/have, they’ve created this kind of shield for themselves behind which they can hide and feel safe, at least to a certain degree. They can do and say a lot of things, and yet no one really pay attention to it, like Tae asking Jimin to come sleep next to him, which has a variety of implications, very meaningful ones at that. And yet most have already forgotten that, or not even noticed that being said to begin with. 

Remember that song Tae shared with us on twitter? About the umbrella? How he wants to protect his love with an umbrella? Which is also a motif that shows up on the cover of Snow Flower as well? Friends and the “vmin are just besties” agenda are like that umbrella. 

Also, I (Admin 2) don’t know if you’ve noticed this but occasionally/often times when Jimin initiates some form of physical contact with Tae, he tends to look as though beyond the camera like he’s trying to see if it’s okay or if he isn’t going too far, you know what I mean? Or that time at MOTS ON:E at the end of EGO where Jimin was playing around with Tae yet straightened up and pretended like nothing happened the second he realized they were on camera. Or during the Break the Silence: Persona movie commentary when Jimin was laughing and threw himself toward Tae’s lap, he turned his head toward the staff and cameras, thus remembered they are not alone, and quickly moved back to his spot on the sofa. That makes me wonder if there aren’t also people at BH who control/oversee this aspect of things as well when it comes to vmin, while not necessarily doing the same things with other members. If maybe the whole idea behind it is to keep the main ships going while “hiding” (and by that I don’t mean that ridiculous theory of hiding one gay ship with another because we all know that’s stupid) the one that is/has potentially to actually be real as to not ruin it or pull it onto a level of potentially coming across as just fan service or boys being silly with each other as well.

To sum all of this up, we agree and we think that Tae and Jimin are surely in favor of being friend zoned by most since it means no one (or at least fewer people than with others in a similar context) is trying to push themselves into their bond, to pry at their privacy and do with them what they do with others, as in create some kind of warped version that has nothing to do with the truth or reality. Besides, even if vmin are real, it doesn’t change the fact that they are best friends/chingu as well. So really, it isn’t the kind of drag or downgrade people might think it is since really, the strongest romantic bonds are built on deep friendship, and it seems like Tae and Jimin have built themselves a very strong foundation, one that the notion of friend zoning them will never be able to shake or break. After all 95z is love.

Thank you for the great question!

#answered ask #answered ask by admin 1 #answered by admin 2 #vmin #jimin #taehyung

[matchasprouts]

Listen Closer - Chapter 5

[ can't stop won't stop. when will Lawrence not get cockblocked by Nar <///3 ]

First || Next || Previous || Last

Luckily for all of them, Garrett did finish that furnace before the day was over. He managed to check the trigger on the fire right before passing out face down on his bed. He told them they’d just move it to the house in the morning.

It wasn’t morning when they moved it, but it got moved out of his room at the very least before he was running out to get to his real job. He was definitely going to be late, but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with that giant machine in his living space anymore. Mark and Amanda could figure out how to get it to the house themselves.

“You’re late,” one of his coworkers teased as he clocked in and he just rolled his eyes. “And you look like shit. How do you live like this?” they continued, receiving a short glare from Garrett.

He didn’t necessarily hate his coworkers, but he wasn’t friends with them either. “Easily,” he replied shortly, leaving no more room for conversation as he clipped his nametag on his shirt and got to work.

Normally he wasn’t so short with them, but he was tired and wanted to get on with the day so he could help with the final preparations for the game.

The day went by quickly, especially because Nar remembered he had his phone number and would occasionally send him pictures of Amanda working, or a joking picture of Hoffman’s ass. He even received a picture of Lawrence ranting about something, probably a bad hospital show. Stuff like that always got him through the day.

“Is that your new boyfriend?” The coworker from earlier, Nadia, asked when they got a glimpse of one of the Hoffman ass pics. They backed off at the look Garrett gave them.

“No.” That was where he left it, putting his phone in his pocket and getting back to work. He was very lucky that Nadia didn’t get the chance to see him turn bright red at the mere idea of Hoffman being his boyfriend.

It was around 5pm when Garrett finally got off, practically running out of the bookstore and heading directly for his car. He was kind of aware of Nadia trying to talk to him as he sped out of the door, but didn’t care enough to stay put.

He was partly rushing so much because he needed to help finish the trap, but mostly because right before his shift ended, he’d gotten a text from Nar:

‘help gordon is trying to walk and idk what to do, he’s just hobbling around with his lil prosthetic help-’

He TOLD Gordon to wait until he could help him, and now he was speeding toward the base, two miles away from being pulled over for how fast he was driving. Plus there was the fact that the other two apprentices weren’t supposed to know about him, according to John, and the picture attached to the text showed him one of the main work rooms.

Fucking idiot, Gordon was supposed to be smart and here he was, being the dumbest bitch in the Jigsaw house, stepping way too close to getting killed.

---

… Apparently the other apprentices weren’t home.

Amanda was already at the Nerve Gas House to help with finishing touches, and Hoffman was at the precinct to “help” with the newest Jigsaw case, meaning Gordon was not in danger of being killed.

Garrett still scolded him.

“I can’t believe you!” He hissed as Gordon leaned into his side, trapped by the arm across his back and the hand placed on his midriff. “I told you! I told you not to try to move around without my help! You know Nar can’t support your weight!!”

Gordon just chuckled at him, the gravelly sound just pissing him off more rather than flustering him like usual.

“Lawrence!! This isn’t a joke!!! I’m genuinely worried about your dumb ass!!!!” Garrett continued, his voice slightly more high pitched in annoyance. Gordon just laughed at him again, making him huff as he practically dragged the doctor back to his room.

It was when he was finally sat down that Gordon said something. “I know you’re worried, but I wasn’t going to call you out of work just so I can walk around.”

“Wh- That’s what I expected you to do!!” Garrett countered, almost offended at the idea that Gordon thought his job was more important than him. “You literally can’t walk without help, and you’ve been bedridden for months! You don’t even have a cane yet!”

Gordon was just watching him at this point as he continued to list off reasons he should have been called, a small smile on his face at how animated Garrett got when he was passionate about something.

“... Why are you staring at me like that?” Garrett asked once he noticed Gordon’s gaze, his hands frozen midair in one of his wild gestures.

“You called me Lawrence.” Garrett’s eyes widened, he hadn’t even noticed. “And I like listening to your voice. I know you’re busy, but I wish you would visit more often, even if it was just to talk.”

Bro stop you’re scaring the hoes with attachment issues who are afraid of relationships (Garrett).

“Wh- I don’t-” Garrett’s stammering was cut off by Gordon’s lip suddenly connecting with his, and he mentally cursed himself for almost immediately melting into it.

The kiss didn’t last long because Gordon had stood up to reach Garrett, and he pulled back to sit back down on the bed, but that didn’t last long either.

As if he’d been waiting for it his whole life, Garrett practically lunged at the doctor, pulling him into another, slightly more desperate kiss. His hands were gripping Gordon’s shirt hard enough that it would definitely be forever wrinkled like that, and he was pretty much in the other man’s lap.

He was worried he was coming off too strong for all of two seconds, the concern dissipating when Gordon’s hands found his hips, holding him there in a tight grip.

Garrett had just begun to thread his fingers through Gordon’s hair- two seconds away from pulling at it- when there was a knock on the door.

Both of them jumped, Garrett shooting back like he’d been shocked. “I forgot we weren’t alone,” he whispered to Gordon, gaining a soft laugh from the doctor. Both of them took a moment to put themselves back together (when had Gordon started unbuttoning Garrett’s shirt?) before answering the door.

Nar glanced between the two of them, seemingly surprised that they looked like they had when they went in- luckily, the room was dark enough to conceal their flushed faces and Garrett’s very red lips.

“You done yelling at him?” he asked Garrett, who nodded in reply. “Good. John wants you at the Nerve Gas House, he wants you to set up the razor box.” Right. Garrett had forgotten about that.

He took one last glance at Gordon before sighing. “I’m so sick of that box,” he muttered, though he accepted his fate and headed out in far less of a frenzy than before. To be completely honest, he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to finish what he started with Gordon. But… the others needed his help, and he needed to give it.

That didn’t mean he didn’t spend the whole drive there thinking about the feeling of Gordon’s lips on his, and what else he could do to the good doctor the next time they were alone.

---

“Does that look good?” Garrett asked Hoffman once the razor box was attached to the ceiling, taking a few steps back to stand next to the detective.

He’d been having trouble with getting the box to hang evenly, which was a struggle he was no stranger to, so he’d brought Hoffman in to take a look at it.

The detective tilted his head slightly to the side as he inspected it, before letting out a soft hum. “You finally got it,” he confirmed, straightening back up. He didn’t flinch when Garrett let out a triumphant whoop, which was proof that one could get used to him quickly.

“You’re a godsend,” Garrett told him, slapping him on the shoulder before leaving the room, running down the hall to tell John and Amanda the good news. He could hear Hoffman following him, but absolutely did not slow down.

He skidded into the main room where John and Amanda were going over the plan for the thousandth time, almost tripping over his own foot and sending himself crashing into the ground. His only saving grace was Hoffman grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him back onto his feet.

John and Amanda stared at him like he was crazy for all of two seconds, before completely ignoring the fact that he almost just curbstomped himself into the floor. “I finally got the razor box straight,” Garrett spoke up, also acting as if he did not almost just die. “All my traps are good to go. Now, I desperately need sleep, so I’m gonna go home and take a two hour nap.”

He wasn’t. He was going to go back to his apartment and frantically draw up plans until he passed out from sleep deprivation at 2am. That was his permanent Jigsaw trap, one he could never escape from.

Wow. That was the most emo thought he’d had since middle school.

“Anyway. Good-bye.” With that, he turned on his heel and walked out of the house, but not after patting Hoffman- who had still been awkwardly standing behind him- on the chest, slipping a piece of paper into the front pocket of his shirt.

What was on it, you ask? A gay little doodle of Hoffman setting up the door gun. Why did he give it to him? He doesn’t know how to flirt. This is the best he’s got.

He went straight ‘home’ after that, a little annoyed he couldn’t go back to the base but also knowing that his neighbours were weirdly nosy and would “get concerned” if he didn’t show up to his apartment regularly.

Plus, his couch there was a really comfortable bed.

#story tag: listen closer #self ship fic #self shipping #self insert #scrap.writing #scrap.ships #romantic: ⛓🕵️‍♂️ #s/i: garrett whitlock #mark hoffman #romantic: 🦿🩺 #(poly) romantic: ⛓🩺 #lawrence gordon #chapter 5

[fandom-necromancer]

Role model acquired

This was prompted by a wonderful anon! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900

‘Reed!‘ Gavin jerked up on instinct, only then looking over to his partner, who just shrugged. Pressing his lips together, he stood up and walked over to Fowler’s office. He couldn’t remember doing anything this time and was pretty confused as he entered the cube and sat down on the left one of the two chairs. ‘Yes? What is it?’ ‘Coming next week, we’ll have an intern with us.’ Gavin frowned, leaning back relieved he didn’t have to get defensive for once but also suspicious of why that should affect him. ‘And?’ ‘And I want you to show him around and have an eye on him.’ ‘What?’

Fowler just stared at him, unimpressed. Gavin winced. ‘Phck, Fowler, why me? I’m like the least qualified person for that! Surely Hank or-‘ ‘You are the only one on desk duty at the moment and I’ve still not forgotten the stunt you pulled with your last case. I want you at your best behaviour.’ ‘So you are punishing me even more with some random brat?’ ‘First of all, I’m giving you an order’, Fowler stressed. ‘Second, I’m proposing a deal. You keep your personality at bay for the week and in return I’ll get you off desk-duty afterwards if you do your job well enough.’ Gavin sighed. ‘Phck. Fine. What should I even show him?’ ‘I don’t know. A tour through the station, a ride with a patrol, tell him some anecdotes… Get creative. The kid likely just wants to see pictures of a real crime-scene and afterwards decides that job is not for him.’ ‘Alright.’

-

‘It was likely one of the closer calls I had. But what can I say, I have the perfect partner to look after my sorry ass.’ Gavin looked over at Nines, winking at him and being completely oblivious to how the seventeen-year-old looked at him lost in thoughts. ‘That must have been amazing.’ ‘Nah, it was terrible, had to stay in hospital for a few weeks. But it makes an awesome story.’ ‘Did you catch him in the end?’ ‘Oh, yes. Took us a while getting back on his trail, but I found him eventually. Phcker should have run the second he had the chance to.’ Nines sighed, shaking his head, but Gavin ignored him, too caught in the story and the fact that someone actually wanted to hear him boasting. ‘Tailed him right to his hideout, the idiot was practically leasing us to the evidence we needed to pin him down.’ The intern grinned. ‘Maybe the guy just looked for someone to pin him.’ Gavin laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. ‘I like your humour.’

Nines – the exact opposite and actually realising what the newbie was aiming at – rolled his eyes and stood up jerkily. ‘I think I need a break.’ He walked over to the breakroom on autopilot, realising only when he stopped in front of the table that there was no reason for him to be there. He had just always accompanied Gavin here. Still, he remained there unwilling to admit his error. ‘Came here to sulk?’, Tina asked, elbowing his side and regretting it deeply as she hit solid metal. ‘Ah, fuck!’ ‘I’m not sulking.’ ‘Sure you’re not. That’s why you are standing in your trademark spot doing nothing while your partner…’ She grinned at him stressing the word. ‘gets the heart-eyes from our intern.’ ‘What are you implying, Tina?’, Nines asked, his sharp eyes warning enough for most people. Not Tina though: ‘You’re jealous, aren’t you?’ ‘That’s ridiculous, why should I be?’ Tina stepped around the table where she had a good view on Gavin. ‘Because the boy has a schoolboy crush on the man you have the hots for, and Gavin is all smiley face and flexes in front of him.’

Nines sighed, caving in. ‘Fine, I am jealous. And?’ ‘Wait, seriously?’ Tina straightened her back and looked at him intently. ‘Dude, I was trying to joke. You are jealous of someone about ten years younger than Gavin?’ ‘In that logic I am more than thirty years younger, Tina.’ ‘Oh, come on that doesn’t count, you’re an android. Seriously, Gavin is just enjoying the attention. Oblivious idiot most likely hasn’t even thought about the boy admiring him. Really, I can’t decide if it’s adorable or hilarious: Our chaos human has a little duckling following him everywhere!’ ‘It’s neither’, Nines moped. ‘It’s embarrassing at best. At the very least it’s unprofessional.’ ‘Nines, it’s only for a week.’ ‘If he lays a hand on Gavin, I will kill him.’ Tina raised her eyebrows on him. She thought he was joking, but his tone suggested otherwise.

‘Nines. Hell, if it’s so bad for you, tell Gavin. But I guess he’d just laugh at you and tell you the same I am now: It’s nothing and you are overreacting.’ Nines just chewed on his lip and looked over at the coffee machine. ‘I think I have a better idea. What was the saying? Actions speak louder than words?’ ‘Jesus, don’t kill him!’, Tina immediately warned him. ‘That was a joke, I wouldn’t kill him. Not in the precinct where everyone can see it.’ The officer looked at him sceptically. ‘That was a joke too.’ Tina sighed and addressed him in all honesty: ‘You should stop with the humour.’ ‘Noted.’

Nines had fetched Gavin’s mug and waited until the coffee machine was finished to pour Gavin’s favourite drink. With a winning grin towards Tina, he marched out of the breakroom and towards Gavin, who was still wildly gesturing at the intern. Nines walked up to his side and set down the cup on the table, his arm blocking Gavin’s line of sight. Then the android took a step back and pressed a kiss to his human’s temple. ‘You missed your morning coffee, dear.’ Gavin blinked up at him then at the mug. ‘Oh, thanks babe!’

Nines sighed. The sharpest Detective of the precinct and still so goddamn blind to social situations. He turned to look at the intern to check if at least he had gotten the hint. But the teen was just grinning like crazy now. ‘I knew you two were gay!’, he cheered instead. Gavin froze, mug still on his lips. ‘What?’ ‘Nah, was just a feeling I got. Oh, that’s amazing, can’t wait to tell my boyfriend another reason why I got the better internship!’

Gavin and Nines looked each other in the eyes, then Nines shrugged exasperated and walked over to his terminal to get back to work. Only a week, he thought to himself. The internship lasts only a week.

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #RK900 #Gavin Reed #Love the thought of Gavin being good with kids but not in a way that any educator would support #Okay the intern here wasn't a kid but you get what I'm saying #Also jealous Nines hell yes #Nines: I'll kill him #Tina: You are joking right? Pls tell me you are joking #Also that's me with any unexpected LGBT+ stuff in my life #there's someone in my zoom seminar with a rainbow flag in the background and every time I see it I'm like hell yes #Okay I'll admit I get Serotonin easily

[backstairbooknerd]

Coffeeshop AU

Word count: 1,659

Triggers: None

Pairing: Prinxiety

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

Roman has never been afraid of anything. When he was five, his parents took him to the circus. When the clowns came out in their tiny red car with their makeup melting off their crooked faces, all the children shrieked with wet cheeks while Roman grinned and leaned over the railing for a closer look. When he was ten, he starred in his first musical. While everyone else was running around backstage with ripped costumes and forgotten lines, Roman stood ready for his entrance with his chin up and his chest puffed out. His first year of high school came when he was fifteen and once again, he was eerily calm as his friends fretted about their hair and their clothes. Needless to say, Roman is pretty brave.

At least, he thought he was brave until he met Virgil.

It was a Saturday morning when Patton and Logan asked Roman to go study with them, but it was Roman’s grand idea to try out the new coffee shop while they were at it.

It was this chain of events that led Roman to stand with his mouth agape at the cute barista. And there was no question about it - Roman was absolutely terrified to talk to him.

“Uh, Roman? Something wrong, Kiddo?” Patton gently nudged Roman’s shoulder with a concerned expression on his face.

“Patton, we talked about calling people older than you, ‘Kiddo’,” Logan mentioned as he roughly shut Roman’s still-gaping mouth.

“But you have to admit, he does look a bit childish when stares like that.” Patton waved a pale and freckled hand in front of Roman’s face. “You’re still looking a bit spacey there.”

Roman turned to his stupidly oblivious friends. “Do you mere mortals not see what I see?”

“That delectable looking muffin?”

“The dark academia atmosphere?”

“Well, yes, you’re not technically wrong, but I was talking about Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome behind the counter.”

The two friends quickly looked Logan with his usual frown and Patton with an excited smile.

Somehow Logan managed to frown even more deeply. “You know he’s actually not that tall, right?”

“That is not the point, Poindexter and besides, he’s hunched over. When he stands up straight I’m sure he casts an impressive shadow.”

“I believe you mean if he stands up straight. That hunched position seems to be his dominant stance,” Logan said studiously.

“Well, Kiddo, if you think he’s so cute, why don’t you go and talk to him?”

For the first time in his life, Roman felt a feeling of panic shoot through him. No way was he going to talk to - he squinted at the nametag - Virgil. Wow, Virgil. A dark and mysterious name to go right along with a dark and mysterious boy.

“Actually, m not feeling too well now that I think about it. I’m gonna head home.” And before either of them could get a word in edgewise, Roman was grandly and heroically fleeing from the coffee shop.

One week later, Roman found himself in the same spot whilst staring at the same boy.

“Alright, Ro Ro Ro Your Boatman.”

“Paton, what -”

“This is your big moment. Do you remember what we practiced?”

Roman took a steadying breath. “Hey there, my name is Roman. I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to go out sometime?”

“That was adequate,” Logan curtly nodded.

“Adequate? That was brilliant, Romance!”

“Okay, Patton, I love how you’re being my hype man right now, but after we’re done here we really need to discuss your choice of nicknames.”

Before he could see Patton’s crestfallen face, Roman turned and head to the register. 

As he walked up, he took a moment to admire the fine specimen standing in front of him. His dark wavy hair tickled his ears and fell into his hazel eyes. Although he had the standard green worker shirt on, he sported a patched up sweatshirt, which was barely pulled up enough to showcase the plethora of rings on his pale fingers. He was the most beautiful thing Roman had ever laid his eyes on.

Before he was ready, he arrived at the counter.

Virgil lifted his eyes from the cups he was polishing and casually flicked his eyes over Roman’s form. “What can I get for you today?”

And God did those words throw Roman off his game because he had never heard such a wonderfully melodic voice before. He immediately started praying that Virgil was a singer. Unfortunately, this also happened to be the first time that Roman ever forgot his script.

“Uh, my name is gay and I was wondering if you singer?”

In the midst of his mortification, Roman barely registered the quirk of a smile on Virgil’s face.

“Hey, Gay, I’m Virgil and yes I am a singer. Come back here tonight at eight and you can hear me and my band play. Okay?”

Roman barely managed to nod his burning head before he promptly ran away. Again.

Needless to say, Roman, Patton, and Logan spent the next five hours or so picking out the perfect outfit. Patton insisted on a bright Hawaiian shirt to make him “stand out” while Logan insisted on a dark blue suit to convey “intelligence with approachability. In the end, Roman finally decided on black jeans, a red shirt, and a leather jacket. 

“Well boys, I think I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“And remember,” Logan said. “No script this time because that clearly didn’t work last time.”

Roman glared at him. “I’m quite aware of that, Logan.”

“Well it wasn’t a total disaster,” Patton piped up. “I mean, he did invite you to his concert tonight.”

“Yeah, but not because he likes me, he just wants more people there. Ugh! I can’t believe I’m actually going to this thing.”

“Don’t be silly, Kiddo. This could be your soulmate, after all, you never know.”

Roman huffed and straightened his jacket. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

When they arrived at the coffee shop for the second time that day, they were certainly not alone. The coffee shop was so packed that they only managed to get the last table because they got there thirty minutes early. As the minutes ticked down to eight, the shop steadily filled up with people, many even wearing a black shirt that read All the Rejects. Patton nudged Roman’s side and wiggled his eyebrows. “Still think he just wanted you to come to add to the crowd?”

Before Roman could retort with a snarky response, the lights dimmed and the crowd began to cheer.

Suddenly, as if he were a magnet that Roman’s eyes were drawn to, Virgil stepped onto the makeshift stage and flashed his quip of a smile. Roman absently wondered if he had died and gone to heaven.

Virgil’s voice sounded over the speaker and seemed to simultaneously soothe and excite the crowd. “Are you guys ready to hear some great music?” As the crowd’s roar started to die down, Virgil and his band began their first song. 

A few songs later and everyone, including the few who managed to snag a table, were on their feet. 

Wiping some sweat from his brow, Virgil took a seat at the keyboard and adjusted his microphone. “All right, you guys, I’m just gonna take this opportunity to slow things down a little bit. This next song is called ‘Reckless Desires’”.

The next three minutes went by both agonizingly slow and much too quickly. Virgil’s eyes seemed to find his in the crowd the moment the song started to play, and they were locked there for the duration of the number. 

When the song inevitably ended, Roman felt chills down his body as he and Virgil continued to stare at each other. 

After what seemed like an eternity, the guitar player came over and slapped Virgil on the back, which seemed to break him out of his reverie. Roman curiously found it incredibly difficult to pay attention after that. 

Two days later, Roman found himself unconsciously walking back to the coffee shop. However, he was instantly filled with disappointment when he found that a short blonde girl had taken Virgil’s spot behind the counter. Roman sighed. At least he would finally be able to try the coffee. 

After getting his iced latte, Roman turned around to find himself table. Unfortunately, he turned around a little too quickly and promptly ran straight into someone.

“I am so sorry!” he said, scrambling to wipe the dripping coffee off of the other person’s shirt.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m used to spilled coffee.”

Roman froze as he recognized the sound of that voice. He slowly lifted his head and sure enough, Virgil was standing there with his damn crooked smile directed toward Roman. Of fucking course.

“Virgil! Oh my gosh, I am so sorry.”

Virgil frowned at him “You remember my name”

“Uh,” Roman intelligently said. “Well, yeah. I mean you’re kind of hard to forget.”

Virgil blushed. “Oh, Um, thanks.”

“But seriously, I can get your clothes dry-cleaned for you or something.”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary. But I do have another request for you if I may be so bold.”

“What is it?” Roman asked apprehensively.

“A date. With me. Friday night.”

Roman blinked in disbelief. “You want to go on a date? With me?”

“Well, yeah,” Virgil said, shuffling his feet. “You’re pretty funny and charismatic and not to mention super cute.”

Now it was Roman’s turn to blush profusely

“Um, yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, I would like to go out with you on Friday.”

“Oh! Awesome, I’ll meet you here at seven?”

Roman smiled. “Sounds good. Oh, and my name isn’t Gay, it’s Roman.”

Virgil smiled. “Well, I guess I’ll see you on Friday, Roman.”

Roman watched in disbelief as Virgil, still drenched in coffee, walked away. It seems like he’s not the only brave person in the world. 

#sanderssides #thomassanders #anxiety #virgil #roman #logan #patton #prinxiety #virgil x roman #au

[justatiredghost]

Living for the moment Ch11 Read from the beginning AO3

A series of glimpses at Klaus’ life if he’d met Dave in his mid 20s. His life isn’t magically transformed, love can’t fix either of them when they’re both homeless and in a bad place. They’re not even really ready for a relationship yet. But maybe a supportive friendship can set them on a better path, the two of them inspiring each other to take care of themselves. It’s going to be a long and bumpy ride, and the question is, when will they actually admit to themselves that they have feelings for each other?

-

Klaus staggered out of the front door, propelled by a push he felt was completely unnecessary. At least he didn’t faceplant in a pile of garbage or something. 

“Fine,” he yelled back over his shoulder as the door slammed closed behind him. “I’ve got plenty of other options, anyway.”

Except he didn’t. He tried not to think about that as he brushed himself off indignantly, straightening his jacket. The weather was getting colder which, of course, meant that all of the shelters were filling up fast. This one had a few vacancies since most people didn’t want to deal with the assholes who worked there, but now that he’d mouthed off and blown it, he was out of last resorts and the sun was setting fast. 

He could always go to a club and see if he could pick someone up, but he didn’t really feel like it. For some reason, it just felt like too much work. He shoved his hands into his pockets and decided to wander around a bit until he could figure something out. 

“Hey, Klaus!”

The voice took him by surprise and he had barely turned around when Dave half tackled him, arm across his shoulders, playfully tousling his hair. 

“Jesus, Dave,” Klaus exclaimed as he barely kept his balance.

“Hey, pal, how’s it going?” Dave asked, cheerily. “You heading inside?” He gestured towards the door of the shelter, the one that had, only moments before, been slammed in his face. 

“Nah,” Klaus said, waving a hand dismissively. “Apparently they don’t, ‘take my kind,’ or whatever.

“What?” Dave said, concerned.

“I mean, look at me,” Klaus said with a grin. 

Dave stepped back and looked him up and down thoughtfully, which made Klaus laugh. “Hmm, too stylish?”

“And I’m, like, super high right now,” Klaus grinned. “But they seemed to have a bigger problem with the fact that I’m queer. Apparently they don’t want someone like me in their ‘nice Christian establishment.’”

“Well,” Dave said, shooting a glare towards the entrance. “I better take my gay Jewish ass elsewhere, then.”

“Oh, come on, you should stay,” Klaus tried to reassure. People in their situation couldn’t really afford to be picky. Or have dignity. “Stick it to them by enjoying one of their beds.”

“What about you?” Dave asked.

“Don’t worry, I know a place,” Klaus lied, trying to brush him off.

“Then I’ll come with,” Dave said. “Two can get through a cold night better than one, and I’m sure someone else would appreciate having a bed. Besides, I’d rather have your company than theirs.”

“Seems like a waste, but fine, suit yourself,” Klaus shrugged. He couldn’t deny the company would be nice. “To be completely honest, though; I don’t actually have a place in mind.”

“Thought so,” Dave said with a grin. 

“Well, look at you, Mr. know-it-all,” Klaus taunted. Dave stuck his tongue out at him so of course Klaus had to respond in kind. 

Finding a safe place to sleep was never a sure thing, but they managed to find an alcove in a backstreet where they could huddle on a bit of cardboard and be mostly unseen so long as they were out of there before the morning rush. It wasn’t ideal, and it was still much too cold for comfort, but at least they weren’t obvious targets. 

“Times like these I really miss Texas,” Dave said, rubbing his hands together and blowing into them to warm up a little as he got comfortable. 

“What I wouldn’t do for a nice warm bath,” Klaus said, curling up on his side close beside him. 

“Here,” Dave said, sitting up to take off his coat to lay over the both of them. They pulled it up high enough to block out the street lights and he grinned at him in the darkness. “Now it’s like we’re having a sleepover.”

“Great, we can stay up late, gossip about boys and braid each other’s hair,” Klaus said. “What else do people do for sleepovers?”

“Did you not have any growing up?”

“That’s for sure a no. Dad barely let us talk to any other kids, let alone have friends. No, I’m a sleepover virgin, please be gentle.”

“You’ll do fine,” Dave said, rolling his eyes. “It’s just too bad we don’t have any ice cream.”

“Oh? Is that a requirement?”

“Yeah! You gotta get sick eating too much, it’s essential to the experience. Ah well, maybe next time.”

“You want me to steal you some? Because I’ll go steal you some.”

“No, no, I only just got comfortable, you can’t move now. And, if you get arrested, who's gonna keep me company?”

Klaus didn’t know why he was enjoying this so much; just this, their banter and their closeness. Sure, he found it a little distracting when Dave’s eyes caught the light just so, or when Klaus found himself staring at Dave’s lips a little too long, but somehow he was okay with just this. Just what Dave was willing to give. 

He could always try to seduce Dave of course, usually he wouldn’t hesitate when he found himself attracted to someone, but he couldn't help but be too concerned with what that would mean for them. Klaus would probably feel the need to move on after that, before any messy feelings could crop up in either of them, and who knows who Dave would become. Klaus hated the idea of anyone growing too attached, and the stifling possessiveness that usually went along with that made his skin crawl. He hated the idea of anyone trying to control him. 

Maybe Dave wouldn’t be like that, he didn’t seem the type, but he supposed it didn’t matter. Klaus knew he couldn’t be feeling the same tension when their hands brushed in the narrow space between them and he suddenly forgot how to breathe, but Dave didn’t even react. So he tried to let it all wash over him and concentrate on what he did have with Dave. 

He had more fun with him than he ever had in his life. Everything was an adventure to Dave, even sleeping in some dirty back alley, and Klaus found it infectious. He didn’t want to risk losing this. Besides, it was certainly novel being around someone who wasn’t trying to get anything out of him. They talked and laughed until Klaus was so tired, all he could do was fall asleep. 

-

Klaus woke with a strangled cry, nearly hyperventilating as he scrambled in search of the drugs he had hidden in his shoe. He swallowed two pills dry and laid back down, trying to catch his breath and block out the voices of the dead as he waited for the drugs to take effect. 

“You okay?” 

He glanced over to see Dave sitting up and watching him with concern, a hand outstretched like he wanted to touch him, but wasn’t sure if it would be welcomed. He’d forgotten he was even here. 

“Oh, yeah, peachy,” he said, scrubbing a hand down his face, trying to wipe away some of the sweat. Now that he was beginning to calm down and cool off, he was starting to feel just how cold it was. 

“Nightmares? Or—“ Dave began, but he trailed off, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to pry. 

Klaus considered how he could reply. He could lie, maybe deflect with a joke and change the subject entirely. That was his usual strategy. But Dave already knew about the ghosts, so the deception seemed pointless. He wondered why he was being so honest with him. He didn’t trust anyone, and he certainly didn’t open up about anything that mattered, so why had Dave wedged his way in past his defenses? 

But then Klaus glanced over at him, met his eyes and the depth of emotions they held, and something inside him cracked and melted away. He found himself making a decision before he could reason his way out of it. 

“Hey, you try to sleep peacefully with hundreds of ghosts screaming at you,” he said, levity still the easiest way for him to admit anything. 

“Shit,” Dave exclaimed, apparently putting together much more than Klaus had meant to give him. “How do you get any sleep at all?”

“Usually by getting blackout drunk or high,” Klaus said, like it was no big deal. Like he hadn’t been ruining his own life since he was 12 years old just for a bit of peace. 

“Right, you mention it blocking them out,” Dave said, and there was more sympathy there than anyone should have. Especially someone who had known him as long as Dave had. Then he reached out, waiting a moment to make sure Klaus had time to pull away of he wanted, before laying a comforting hand on his arm. 

Physical closeness didn’t really mean much to Klaus. In fact, he was practiced at not really having any boundaries. He’d found it easier to just go with the flow and not care if people touched him. But things felt different with Dave. Throughout their friendship, Dave had let him set the pace: Klaus had been the one to start with the playful roughhousing, to fall asleep on his shoulder. The contact they had felt comfortable and familiar. It made Klaus feel like he could pull away and Dave would do the same, no questions asked. 

He wasn’t used to anyone respecting when he wanted space. Almost everyone pushed him around, or touched him like they owned him. He wasn’t used to feeling like a person. Maybe that was why he was still here, with Dave. Sure, there had been a few others who treated him well, but honestly, that had made him even more wary. If they got attached, things would get complicated. But that didn’t bother him now. Did he want Dave to get attached? Why was this different? 

He couldn’t help but search Dave’s face, as if the answers he was looking for could be found there. That was when he noticed that he didn’t have the blurry look of someone who had just woken up. In fact, he looked even more exhausted than before. At least that was a handy tangent for him to grab onto. 

“Can’t sleep?” He asked. 

“Yeah, you know,” Dave said, letting him change the subject. “It’s still pretty cold, I just haven’t been able to get comfortable.”

“Okay, then,” Klaus said. “How about this?”

He never had been particularly good at controlling his impulses. That was how he lived his life, after all; indulging in every whim. So he scooted closer, taking Dave by surprise and causing him to instinctively raise his arm up out of the way. Klaus took that as an invitation and pressed in close, throwing his own arm casually across Dave’s side. He sighed contentedly, slowly but surely feeling Dave relax against him. After a moment, he lowered his hand as well, hesitating like he wasn’t sure what to do with it, until he finally rested it against Klaus’ arm. 

He just wanted to touch, to wrap him in his arms and hold him, and be held. It didn’t mean anything, so why did it feel so right? He wasn’t really sure where all of this was coming from. This wasn’t the type of physical closeness he’d usually indulge in, but it seemed like they could both use some comfort and warmth, so why not? Idly, the thought crossed his mind that he’d been waiting ages to do this. It surprised him and he quickly had to backtrack. Surely that was just the drugs talking. Or the lack of drugs. Or just a result of the nightmares. Whatever, he didn’t want to think about this anymore. 

“Now, get some sleep,” he said, as much to Dave as to himself. 

‘Yeah, sure,” Dave said sarcastically and Klaus pulled away just enough to look up at him. 

“What, still cold? Or, I could move back over there if you’d prefer,” Klaus said lightly, like he didn’t care either way, because he wanted Dave to feel just as comfortable as he made him feel and he wasn’t sure how else to do it. 

“No, sorry, I didn’t mean—“ Dave said quickly, turning a bit pink, before taking a deep breath to gather himself and continue. “This is better, yeah. I’ll get some sleep now.” 

He briefly squeezed his shoulder too, like he didn’t want him to go, and Klaus couldn’t help but grin in triumph, hiding his face against his chest as he settled back down, feeling proud that he’d managed to fluster Dave. And here he’d thought the night was going to be terrible. 

#klaus hargreeves #dave katz #klave #klaus x dave #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #fanfic #living for the moment #homophobia mention #only briefly though #homophobia is a real problem in a lot of shelters #also drug addicts are usually treated pretty badly too #i imagine klaus tries to avoid them unless he has no other choice #there's a surprising amount of good info online #for alternative places to sleep #things to look out for #stuff like that #so that's nice #but #i really wish we had a better support system for the homeless #my fic

[depressedhatakekakashi]

How About, No!

Au: Collage Professors Au

Words: 2101

Pairings: Yamato/Umino Iruka, Hatake Kakashi/Maito Gai (Mentioned)

Summary: Doing paperwork has never been Kakashi's favourite part of the job. Doing Tsunade-sama's paperwork is somehow even worse, but apparently that's not bad enough. Kakashi's best friend has to go and make his life more ridiculous over a stupid crush.

For: @cryptic-summons @pinkcatharsis (i don't know you might enjoy XD)

At the beginning of every semester, Tsunade-sama would ask Kakashi to help her sort out all of the paperwork. Make sure that everyone was sorted into the correct classrooms, that all of the information was up to date, and that there wasn’t a repeat of the ‘2018 fiasco’ that no one was ever allowed to bring up in front of her again.

It wasn’t his favourite part of the job, but it was a good excuse to get away from his usual workload for a little while so he never said no.

Not that he thought he could say no. The one time he had tried to deny one of her requests, he had gotten a call from his father five minutes later talking about being nice to his friend and not making her life harder because he didn’t want to have to hear about it the next time they got together for drinks.

“You’re losing focus,” a file came down on top of his head, forcing him to look over at Shizune where she was now standing in front of him with a playful smile. “If you keep stalling we’re going to be here all night.”

Not a chance. He had dinner plans with Gai and he was not missing them for this.

“There’s only one more classroom to go through anyways,” opening the file he needed on the computer, he stared at the classroom details. “Teacher, Umino Iruka. See, this one will be easy.”

Iruka’s classes were always full because people loved hearing him talk, which would usually cause him more of a headache sifting through everyone’s files to make sure they actually signed up for the class and weren’t just placed in there by a wonky system. It wasn’t a headache because Iruka liked to look through his class layout before Tsunade-sama started the mad dash to organize everything before the new semester started, so he always had a file ready full of all of the student’s class requests.

It saved Kakashi from having to look through each of their files to make sure that they were in the correct class, and there was always a note if there was someone in it who shouldn’t be.

“Where is-” The file in question appeared in front of his face suddenly, a smile on Shizune’s face when he looked up at her.

“You’re not the only one with plans tonight, Kakashi,” the playful wink she gave him told him Rin was going to be wearing a smile all day tomorrow. Probably the type he wouldn’t want to ask about, just to save his sanity. “There is one sticky note on the inside, but I haven’t read it yet.”

It was probably just a request to remove a student. Likely because they hadn’t actually requested to be in the class, but also possibly because Iruka didn’t want to deal with them again. There had been a few repeat students that had proven to be little more than a nuisance to the poor man, and while Kakashi did gain a certain amount of enjoyment from seeing Iruka tearing his hair out of his skull because of shitty students, he could also understand why he would finally put his foot down and stop letting them in his class.

Flipping the file open, Kakashi directed his attention to the sticky note first. Rechecking everything that Iruka had already done would be easy. The most difficult (but still rather easy) part would be finding whoever it was that needed removing and going through the process of having them taken off of the class list.

What he found was not something he had been expecting at all.

Professors don’t usually take classes themselves? A mistake perhaps?

Professor? Now that had to be a mistake. Maybe the systems were acting up and just throwing anyone into classes now. Who knows, maybe Shizune had been forced to remove him from one of her classes, or Tenzo’s.

Who knows what those computers were getting up to. They were so old that Kakashi was certain they were functioning on nothing but cobwebs and spite. This semester the spite was getting the upper hand and making their lives a little more interesting.

“Should be simple enough,’ scanning his eyes over to the list of students, he searched for a familiar name. “Though I wonder why the system would-” As soon as he found the name he was looking for, he dropped the file.

“Is everything alright?” Shizune asked with a concerned tone in her voice.

“It’s fine,” pushing his chair back, he snapped the file shut and stood up. This was something that needed a bit more of a hands-on approach to rectify. “I’ll be back in ten, twenty tops, and I’ll pick up coffee on the way back.”

She was less likely to be upset with him for disappearing in the middle of their work if he returned with a treat, and he knew the perfect person to pay for that treat.

After all, it was his fault that Kakashi was leaving his work behind. He could make it up to him by paying for Coffee.

Finding Tenzo had been easy. As always he was tucked away in the university garden, which everyone considered his office because of how much time he spent there, tending to some of the flowers.

Today he was hovering over the tulips. Flowers that none other than Iruka had suggested were added, admitting that they were his favourite flower when Tsunade-sama asked him why he wanted them in the garden so badly.

Tenzo had wasted no time in finding the perfect spot to plant a variety of tulips. He had even chosen all sorts of different colours, determined to grow as many of them as he could just for Iruka.

The fact that there were still people in the university who had no idea about Tenzo’s crush on Iruka was astonishing to Kakashi. There was no way he could be more obvious about his feelings towards the modern history professor.

Well, there was one way but he had gotten upset with Kakashi over the cute sign he had tried taping to his back one day that read ‘I’m in love with Umino Iruka’. Kakashi still wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like he had made it into the university before Shizune pointed out the sign’s existence.

It wasn’t even half as embarrassing as Kakashi had intended it to be.

“So,” resting an arm on Tenzo’s shoulder, he smiled when his friend glared at him. Already prepared for whatever Kakashi was about to throw his way. “Daydreaming about Iruka? I hope you’re doing this during your break. You know how important it is not to get distracted when you’re watering the plants.”

“Very funny,” shrugging Kakashi’s arm off of his shoulder, Tenzo turned his attention back to the Tulips. “Unlike you, flowers are rather resilient. If I don’t water them right away they’ll survive. If Gai doesn’t hug you as soon as he sees you, you’ll wither away.”

Unnecessarily true.

“Meh, at least I can own the fact that I need hugs from my boyfriend,” placing his hands behind his back, he peered at Tenzo with his good eye. “Meanwhile you’re just pretending that you don’t have the biggest, most obvious crush on Iruka ever. You were so desperate to get close to him without admitting you like him, that you signed up for one of his classes. Didn’t you?”

Tenzo’s shoulders stiffened. Caught in the act, he turned to face Kakashi.

“How did you know?”

“I help out with the paperwork every semester. Did you forget that, Tenzo?” The look of dread on his friend’s face told him that he had, indeed, forgotten. “I wouldn’t worry too much. Iruka seems to think it was a mistake that your name was placed on his classroom list. I don’t think the man has any clue what you were trying to do.”

Which, in his personal opinion, just confirmed how oblivious Iruka was.

“I do have one question though,” dropping his arms to his side, he took a step forward and reached out to touch the one purple tulip that was blooming. “Out of all of the things you could have done to try and spend some time with Iruka, you decided to enroll in his course. Why?”

His question was met with silence. Not the kind that told him Tenzo was desperately thinking of an appropriate answer. No, this was the kind of silence he was met with whenever Tenzo was too embarrassed to give him an answer.

When he knew that providing Kakashi with the answer would lead to his best friend giving him an even harder time than he already was, which left only one clear reason for why he had done it.

“You could just, oh I don’t know, ask him out,” Gripping the tulips stem, he plucked it out of the ground and stood up straight. The annoyed look he received from Tenzo was no doubt in response to both his words and the fact that he had just plucked a tulip of all flowers. “What could you possibly hope to gain from taking his class, that you couldn’t from just asking him out?”

“I was hoping that it would...you know, maybe let me spend some time around him,” Turning his head, Kakashi levelled Tenzo with an unimpressed look. “I know it’s stupid. Trust me, I’ve been scolding myself for it for days. I just-I needed something. Some way to get in close to him and actually start a conversation.”

It took a moment for Tenzo’s words to fully sink in, but once they had Kakashi straightened himself up and carefully placed the Tulip he had plucked behind his ear. Keeping it out of harm’s way as he removed the file from under his arm and used it to smack Tenzo upside the head.

“Ow!” Tenzo’s arms shot up to protect his head. “Senpai, what the hell!?”

Taking the file across Tenzo’s head once again, he watched as his friend tried to back away from him. “Professors cannot date students you absolute-” cutting himself off, he smacked Tenzo once more before watching him stumble back into the tulips. “Of all the stupid ways to try and get close to Iruka, you chose the one illegal way? Are you trying to get him fired!?”

“No, that’s not…” Glancing down at the tulips that he had crushed under his feet, he sighed. “I wasn’t trying to. I just…”

The look of defeat on Tenzo’s face is all too familiar. Kakashi could remember a time when he had felt the same way about Gai. Never knowing how to approach him, let alone how to ask him out.

It wasn’t Tenzo’s fault that the heart was a stupid organ that didn’t have any meaningful connections to the brain. The thing acted without concern for the results of its actions.

It just meant he was going to have to take matters into his own hands.

“I’ll take you off of the classroom list,” he informed Tenzo, holding up a finger to silence his friend when he opened his mouth to protest. “And you’ll be ready one Wednesday evening for a double date. Gai and I will be there to make sure that you don’t do anything else colossally stupid.”

“Wednesday?” Tenzo’s eyes widened. “You’re not going to”

“Well, clearly you can’t be trusted to take care of asking him out yourself,” honestly, he’d probably leave the actual asking to Gai. He was always good at convincing people to hang out, and he might even be able to make Tenzo look good while offering Iruka a date with him. Something Kakashi didn’t trust himself to do at the moment, given what a dumb move Tenzo had just pulled. “Wednesday night. If you’re late I’ll be forced to send Gai in to retrieve you.”

For a second it looked like Tenzo was about to argue some more. Perhaps protest against Kakashi’s idea, or try to point out that he could take care of his own love life. Instead, he simply shut his mouth and nodded his head.

“Yes, Senpai,” he responded in a defeated tone. “Just...try not to be too embarrassing.”

Here he was trying to help his best friend out with his love life without possibly costing Iruka his job, and the bastard dared to call him embarrassing? That was the final straw.

He was bringing videos from Tenzo’s twenty-fifth birthday party. Iruka could decide for himself if he wanted to date Konoha’s worst karaoke singer or not.

#Collage Professors Au #Hatake Kakashi #Tenzo Yamato #YamaIru #taryn's birthday fics #taryn's birthday celebration 2021

[lastwagontrainhopper]

A little help goes a long way

I managed to finish this fic just in time before the end of pride, woohoo!

Summary:  

"Riza sighed and put her pastry down on the table. She looked him straight in the eye.

“I thought we had agreed, Colonel,” she said slowly, “on the fact that we do not have the same taste in women.” "

--

Roy is determined to find someone worthy of his Lieutenant.

(aka even when Riza and Roy are not together, they're still the otp)

Words: 2997

Tags: Royai ,Sort of?, Banter, Fluff and Humor, with just the tiniest speck of angst, Friendship, Riza is gay, Roy is an ally, They Gossip

read on aot

"Other than that, I spend most of my time helping out at my father's metalworking company. Do you know Gordon Industry? "

A few seconds went by before Riza realized she had been asked a question.

She took a long sip of wine to hide her surprise and promptly turned her attention to the young man in the brown suit who stood beside her. Casually leaning against the counter of the bar, he held a glass of whiskey in his left hand, a cigarette on the other.

"No, I’m not familiar," Riza finally replied with a contrite smile. "But I have to admit that, um, metalworking isn’t really a passion of mine."

The young man’s eyebrow shot up in genuine surprise. “Really, you’ve never heard of us?”

Riza had been upfront, but obviously not enough: the boy launched into a detailed description of the business’ operations, while she leaned further into the counter as she attempted to drink her boredom away.

Around them, the air was buzzing with conversations. The bar area was dramatically overcrowded: to reach the dancefloor in the next room, one had to elbow its way through the crowd - Riza had almost dropped her drink twice already from being pushed around. A tape recorder in the opposite corner was screaming out a blaring jazz tune, and a thick cloud of cigarette smoke was already beginning to form on the ceiling.

The Labor’s Day party was certainly not the fanciest celebration of the year, but it was nevertheless one of Riza's favorites. On this day, she was truly off-duty: there was no information to gather or higher-ups to compliment, and no reports to make at the end of the night. Besides, it was a rare opportunity for the military to mix with the civilians of Central, which led to some interesting encounters.

Well, most of the time.

Riza nodded idly as the young man continued his monologue. She had exhausted her repertoire of polite ways to end a conversation: this man was either incredibly tenacious or splendidly oblivious. He had even followed her to the bar when, on the pretense of getting a drink, she had tried to sneak away! For the umpteenth time, Riza’s thoughts drifted to the gun that was strapped on her right tight – sadly not a serious solution. She sighed and rested her chin against her left hand, her elbow on the table.

"Lieutenant! "

The interjection snapped her out of her reverie immediately. She raised her head and looked over her shoulder to see the Colonel - who else - who was just emerging from the crowd.

Riza hadn't seen him since the start of the night; he liked to keep busy on this type of occasion. But he didn’t seem in the mood to party at the moment: his expression was tense and he didn't even have a drink in his hands. As the Colonel reached the bar, he placed a hand on the counter between Riza and the young man, turning his back toward him as if he hadn't noticed his presence.

"Lieutenant, we just heard back from Havoc," he told her with a tone as serious as his face. "Target's on the move; we need to go now."

It did not take Riza long to understand. Without skipping a beat, she put her drink down, grabbed her purse and let her face fall back to its usual, serious appearance.

"Got it, sir."

Roy turned around and began to walk away. She went to follow him until a hand grasped her shoulder.

"Wait!" It was the young man - of course - looking dumbfounded, as if he hadn't followed what had just happened. "Can I at least get your number?"

This time, Riza didn't bother to fake a smile. "Maybe some other time."

With that, she twisted out of his grasp and ran after the Colonel who had already disappeared into the crowd.

She caught up with him as he exited the bar and entered the larger dance room. Riza took a few deep breaths; although the guests were just as numerous, the air here didn’t feel nearly as oppressive. The Colonel kept his rapid pace until they had crossed the sea of guests dancing in the middle of the room, swirling in all directions like raging waves.

When he slowed down and finally turned toward her, Roy wasn’t even trying to hide his self-satisfied smile.

"And you're welcome," he said with a half-mocking bow, stretching out the first word.

Riza took a moment to adjust the sleeves of her dress who had slipped off her shoulders – the garment wasn’t really made for this kind of wild chase.

"You know, people are going to become suspicious if you keep doing this," she replied as they started to walk again at a much more relaxed pace. "Besides, how do you know you didn't interrupt a perfectly lovely conversation?"

Roy threw her a knowing look. "Lieutenant, don't insult me. I could sense your annoyance from across the building." They were now entering the dining room, where guests could sit on small rounds tables to enjoy the buffet - not very fancy but quite filling – that laid on the counter along the wall. He smirked, putting his hands in his pockets. "That polite face of yours wasn't fooling anyone.”

"It was certainly fooling him."

"Men see what they want to see," Roy said whimsically. He glanced behind them, then pulled Riza by the arm. "Wait, let's sit. I think the guy might be looking for you."

They swiftly sat down on the first empty table they could see. Thanks to the people standing in small groups around them, their presence was hidden from most of the room.

Riza tried to look around, but couldn’t the young man's brown suit. She went to sip her drink and realized she had left it at the bar.

She sighed. “Guess I’ll need to lay low for a while. But thanks for the help, Colonel,” she added with a rare touch of honestly.

“Always my pleasure,” he nodded slightly. “Give me just a minute.”

Roy stood up and walked toward the back of the room. A few moments later, he returned with a plate filled with some of the few ragtag dishes that had survived from the buffet, and placed it down between them.

Riza suppressed a small smile. "You don't need to keep me company, you know."

Roy shrugged, mouth already full of shrimps. “I could use a break from the networking. Plus, being seen chatting with a beautiful blonde can’t hurt my image.”

“Except everyone knows that blonde is your subordinate,” Riza answered flatly, leaving the other problem unsaid. She reached out to grab a chocolate éclair. “This isn’t even a military event, and you’re still thinking about work?”

“Military event or not, many influent figures of Central are gathered tonight. Can’t miss that opportunity.” Roy licked the butter off his fingers, a gesture that contrasted with the classy black suit he was wearing. “But while we are talking….”, he turned his attention back to her, “there is actually something I needed to tell you. I’ve received intel on a certain individual, here in the capital, which seems rather intriguing.”

Riza fell back into soldier mode in the blink of an eye, straightening up on her chair. “What is this about?”

Roy raised a hand in front of him. “Relax. It’s not about the military.”

Riza frowned. Intel about someone from Central, without it being related to their work? What else could this be about?

It took a few long seconds for the realization to hit her. Oh.

“Sir….” she began warningly, hoping she was wrong.

Roy had a smirk on his face now, like a kid trying not to laugh at its own prank. “Now that I think of it, you in particular might find this person – her - interesting.”

Riza sighed and put her pastry down on the table. She looked him straight in the eye.

“I thought we had agreed, Colonel,” she said slowly, “on the fact that we do not have the same taste in women.”

He raised his hands defensively. “I know, Lieutenant, I know. Which is why this isn’t someone that I would date.”

Riza frowned, suspicious. “How come?”

“A bit too austere for my taste,” Roy answered offhandedly. She gave him a piercing look, and he caved in with a sheepish smile. “But mostly because she wouldn’t want to date me. You, on the other hand…”

Riza ignored his comically wiggling eyebrows and went back to eating her eclair.

“Do you even know if I’m her type?” If women were her type, was what this meant.

“My trusted source tells me so.”

He grabbed an olive and popped it into his mouth before leaning forward, his forearms resting on the table. There was a playful glint in his eyes.

“She’s in her late twenties, work as an investigative journalist – so smart, without a doubt, and with a touch of boldness. According to what I’ve read of her, she seems to have her heart in the right place too - you should see what she writes about Bradley’s administration. I didn’t even think it was legal to print this kind of thing!”

Riza hummed noncommittally. So far, so good.

“And I haven’t even got to the best part,” Roy continued, raising his index for emphasis. “My trusted source tells me she has not one, but two dogs.”

Riza raised an eyebrow. “Two? Sounds like a lot to handle,” she replied, keeping her tone neutral.

He smirked. “But you’re not the type to back down from a challenge, are you, Lieutenant?”

Riza sighed. She had forgotten how persistent Roy could be when he had good intentions. “God, you sound like your sisters right now.” A doubt crossed her mind, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “Did your sisters had something to do with this?”

Roy leaned back in his chair. “She goes to the same hairdresser as Bianca,” he admitted shamelessly. “They’re friends.”

“You are impossible,” Riza said with a half-smile, shaking her head. “I’ll think about it.” Roy nodded, apparently satisfied, while she grabbed the last piece of bread from the plate. “But what about you?”

“What about me?”

“I haven’t seen you with Madeline for a while.”

“Oh, well…” Roy looked away, his expression growing more somber. “Things were starting to get too serious between us. She wanted to move in with me.”

Riza felt her teasing smile fade off. “So, you broke it off?”

“No,” he replied a bit defensively, “we had a conversation about it like mature adults. I told her how I really feel about…all of that. And she decided to end it.”

It wasn’t the first time she had heard that story. Riza felt a pang of sympathy for him. “I’m sorry about that, Colonel.”

He shrugged it off, trying to appear casual. “It’s alright. I had a feeling it would end this way.”

Around them, the crowd had begun to dissipate, as guests wandered outside to enjoy the cool night air. Riza spotted two unopened beers lying on a table nearby that was now empty and got up to get them.

"You know," she said as she sat back down, placing one of the bottles in front of Roy, "there are plenty of women who would be happy with a casual relationship, no string attached."

“Trust me, Lieutenant, I am aware,” he replied with a smirk. “And I’ve had my share of that in the past. But I’m almost thirty, now; I’m not a young man anymore.” He popped the beer cap off on the edge of the table – his favorite party trick – and took a swig. “It’s only natural to seek something a bit more meaningful, someone with which I can drop the act.”

Riza raised an eyebrow as she searched through her purse for keys. “So, you want a serious emotional relationship with none of the practical aspect? Seems to me like you want to have the cake and eat it too.” She finally founded them and opened her own beer with a flick of the wrist.

Roy frowned. “Well, you seem to manage to get exactly that. You were with Rose for what, 2 years? Without any talk of moving, marriage, kids or whatnot.”

Riza gave him a flat look. “Yes, because if we had done anything like that and someone found out, she would have lost her teaching position – and I would have risked getting kicked out of the military. That’s hardly a pleasant reason.”

“Of course,” he nodded, “you’re right. But in our case, you have to agree that it is convenient. “

Riza hummed reluctantly. It was, in a way: she never had had to reveal the real reason why she didn’t want to  - or couldn’t - commit too firmly to a relationship. She was grateful for that; even among her most trusted partners, there weren't many who would have understood.

“But all is not lost!” Roy said after a moment, pulling Riza out of her thoughts. He set his bottle on the table with determination. “I have decided to try a new approach to dating, one that I think is promising.”

Riza looked at him, tilting her head with curiosity.

“I’m going incognito.”

She took a sip of beer. “Interesting. Any alias?”

He crossed his arms, musing. “Think I’ll stick to Roy. Just Roy, a simple guy looking for someone to spend the weekends with, without getting too engaged in each other lives. I’m sure some women are looking for that.”

“It will be a bit harder without your whole “Flame Alchemist” thing going on, though,” Riza notes, amused.

“I know,” he smirked, “but that’s the fun of it. You see, with my reputation, I can easily sway the most exquisite women in Central – except one, that is.“ Riza rolled her eyes at his sideways glance. “But the kind of women that are interested in me rarely is the one I’d like to end up with. In fact,” he chuckled somberly, “if someone falls for my “lazy, arrogant Hero of Ishval” persona, either they’re in it only for the prestige or they’re a terrible judge of character.”

Riza nodded slowly. “An unfortunate consequence of your strategy.” There was a short silence. Then she propped her chin in the palm of her hand, elbow on the table, and let out a teasing smile. “At any rate, I am looking forward to seeing how this will turn out. If only to know if you’re half as good as a seducer as you’ve always claimed to be.”

That made Roy laugh, throwing his head back. He looked at her with a fond expression, the type he only had after a few drinks. “You know, I’ll never get over how unfortunate it is that I’m not your type.”

She smirked. “I think it makes everything a lot simpler, actually.”

“Maybe,” he conceded. “But the best things in life rarely are the simple ones.”

Riza chuckled, and the two fell into a comfortable silence as they worked on finishing their beers. They were lukewarm, and not of the highest quality, but that didn’t matter - this was a night for familiarity and comfort, not luxury.

Suddenly, something in the room caught Roy's attention.

"Oh - I think I just saw her!" He craned his neck, looking at something behind Riza.

"Her?"

"The journalist. Come on!" Roy was already on his feet, motioning for her to get up.

Riza frowned as she pushed her chair back. "You mean she's here?"

Roy turned back toward her. "Do you think I would have told you all this if she wasn't? You underestimate my organizational skills, Lieutenant." She snorted, but let the comment slide. "By the way - have you seen what was on the news about Major Kingsman's trial?"

Riza tried to remember what she had read in the newspaper the previous Sunday. "I've skimmed through it, yes..."

"That'll do." He maneuvered between the tables, heading toward a woman who had just stopped by the buffet - or what was left of it. "Ms. Delacroix! We were just talking about you! I would like you to meet Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye - she's the subordinate I was telling you about."

The woman turned in their direction and smiled as she recognized the Colonel. Her outfit was simple but elegant, a linen shirt with a low-cut neckline and flowy black pants. Her brown hair fell down her back in a long braid, and her face was covered in freckles.

Riza felt like her jaw had just dropped. God. Did Roy even know how much she loved freckles?

The woman turned her attention to Riza as she came up beside them. "Yes, I remember! It's a pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant."

Riza suppressed her sudden urge to rearrange her hair- which must have looked atrocious, after hours in those stuffy rooms - and stepped forward to shake her hand.

"The pleasure is mine, Ms. Delacroix," she replied warmly. For once, it really was.

"So," the woman began, looking at Riza with interest, "Colonel Mustang told me you had some questions about my recent article in The Central Times?

Riza swore internally. She made a mental note to take it up with him later. "That's right," she said with a small smile. "I'm afraid I'm not an expert in the subject, but your article certainly caught my curiosity."

Before Ms. Delacroix could respond, Roy glanced over his shoulder. "I'm afraid I heard someone call my name," he chimed in, not looking the least bit sorry. "I'll leave you ladies to it."

He bid them both goodbyes, bowing his head at Ms.Delacroix, and promptly walked away.

Over the journalist’s shoulder, Riza saw him look back after a few steps. He caught her gaze and gave her a satisfied grin, mouthing something.

"You're welcome."

Riza bit down a witty retort and instead turned her attention back to Ms.Delacroix. The Colonel could wait; she had more important matters in front of her.

#royai #fma #fanfic #fanfiction #riza hawkeye #roy mustang #pride

[3laxx]

When the Dream ends - Chapter 1

Amity changed in the little bathroom that was attached to the room, before emerging and deadpanning at Luz giggling. “This isn’t funny.” “It’s a little funny!”

---

After the grudgby accident, Luz begins her recovery, Amity gets a bad case of the Gay Panic TM and everyone adjusts to the grueling reality of how badly accidents can actually go.

Read "In Your Dreams" first as Part 1, since this is Part 2!

I decided to cut the short story "In Your Dreams" where I originally intended to and finish it off there, and just put it into a series and put all following headcanons in here! This story is also rated mature because I will write flashbacks of the accident, so I'll eventually even change it to explicit. But yeah! Have fun reading!

Ao3 / FF.net

---

The next day, Amity and Luz only woke up late.

But Amity wouldn’t care. She only snuggled closer to the other girl and felt Luz nuzzling her nose into her hair, smiling. She didn’t know if humans usually kept friendships as physically close, but she didn’t mind as well. After all, she was just glad that she could snuggle with Luz that way. It felt so different than when the twins messed with her or took her into hugs.

Snuggling.

She had never done that yet, honestly. She had never snuggled like that. This was completely new for her, especially for a few hours. The longest she had touched someone was for a few minutes, maybe ten at most. She didn’t even think she had touched anyone for that long when she had been a baby witchling.

Luz slowly moved around a little, then she looked up to her friend and smiled when their eyes met.

“Hey, slept well?”

“Better than ever.”, Amity admitted before sitting up and stretching, earning a jealous gaze from Luz. She had been told not to move too much yet, so she had to stay put and wasn’t allowed to stretch. Amity gave her a sympathetic glance but Luz quickly brightened up again. And lifted her hand.

“Poke!”, she exclaimed and bopped Amity’s exposed tummy with her finger, causing the young witchling to immediately turn bright red again and topple backward and off the bed, yelping loudly before a loud thud sounded.

Luz winced and rolled over to look where Amity had fallen, meeting the witch’s tomato face and her arms frozen all over the place when she furrowed her eyebrows.

“… Sorry… I didn’t think you’d react so extremely. Are you okay?”

“Yep!”, Amity responded a little too loudly, laughing nervously, “I’m alright, everything is okay!”

Luz smiled as Amity got back up, but when the witchling’s gaze fell back on the clock she yelped again.

“My parents are going to kill me! I can’t even go to school late now, I’m in my pajamas!! What do I do?!”

Luz, still lying on the bed, groaned when she rolled back over and looked up to the panicking girl, grimacing.

“You could text Eda and ask her to sneak you into the manor?”

Amity switched from panic to planning and nodded, “Right, right. I can do that.”

“Or you could just skip.”, Luz grinned, then Amity looked up at her.

“But I never skip.”, the girl furrowed her eyebrows and summoned her scroll phone, huffing, “And Boscha is returning today, I wanna talk to her.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s valid.”, Luz began and tried to sit up but quickly, a short pain rippled through her back and she fell back into the sheets with a grimace, causing Amity to look up and make the scroll phone vanish with a poof.

“Luz! Are you okay? Eda told me not to let you get up!”, she quickly exclaimed and rushed to her friend’s side, putting a hand on Luz’s shoulder to keep her down, “Are you insane?! The healers said your spine was severely injured and you try to sit up?!”

Maybe her tone was a little too harsh, or the pain overwhelmed Luz, but Amity stopped immediately when tears appeared in the Latina’s eyes. She hesitated.

Oh no.

“Luz, I didn’t mean-…”, she started, but her friend shook her head, effectively cutting her off, “I-I’m sorry…”

The teenager took some time to breathe again, then she placed a soft hand on hers that Amity still kept on her shoulder, not wanting her to move again.

“I-It’s fine-… Just let me breathe for a moment…”, she finally winced and kept her eyes closed, her breath coming in pants, “D-Don’t be sorry. I’ll be okay.”

She slowly calmed down again, then she sighed. Amity knew immediately that school was off for her today. Luz was in pain and needed her, and she wouldn’t just go.

With one hand she summoned her scroll phone again and texted Boscha to let her know that Luz was awake and would be okay with her visiting, and Willow and Gus to invite them over for the afternoon. Eda was probably already on her way.

“Just keep it down for now, Luz. It’ll get better again. You just need some time.”

The girl slowly felt the pain subsiding and nodded once more, then Amity focused back on her phone to ask the twins to send her some clothes, and sure enough, their skills in Illusions were unparalleled. A few clothes were immediately delivered to her by an illusion of a delivery boy by Emira, who had snuck into the manor, grabbed some of her clothes, and ran to the Healer’s Coven unseen by her parents.

Amity changed in the little bathroom that was attached to the room, before emerging and deadpanning at Luz giggling.

“This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny!”

The witchling rolled her eyes when she sat back down on the chair next to Luz’s bed, trying to slump so Luz wouldn’t be able to mock her but the girl gestured for her to straighten up again, “No, no, lemme see!”

She should’ve never trusted Ed and Em with getting her new clothes. Of course, they’d pick the most embarrassing stuff they could find. In this case, it was an old hoodie Ed had given her as a present for her 12th birthday. At least they had picked some normal orchid leggings.

Amity groaned when she straightened up again and pulled the hoodie so that Luz could read what was on there. Ed had gone all the way to make a print of a very badly drawn Amity holding a peace sign.

“Simply be witchling?!”, Luz giggled and Amity couldn’t deny the tiny blush she felt when she looked away and pursed her lips, “Whose idea was that? That is horrible!”

Groaning, she slumped again and rolled her eyes.

“Ed’s. He’s been bugging me to wear that hoodie for almost 3 years now.”, Luz still grinned, making Amity’s face go completely red, “Another word and I’ll leave right now!”

Luz didn’t need any words, though, making the girl squirm and sigh exasperatedly, crossing her arms.

“Stop. Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”, Luz smirked at her, the grin still not having left her face. She couldn’t deny Luz being extra adorable right now.

“Don’t stare at my hoodie. You’re just being mean right now.”

Before Luz could say something soothing, though, Eda barged in and the playful banter was forgotten.

“Hey, kid! I’m glad you’re feeling better!”

King hurried after Eda and jumped on Luz’s bed, before curling in on Luz’s stomach.

“I didn’t worry about you at all.”, he stated and Luz laughed, ruffling his fur.

“Of course not, King.”

It wasn’t long until Willow and Gus came to visit as well, telling them that Boscha had looked a little tired in school but was okay otherwise. She just didn’t want to visit yet. They assured Luz, though, that Boscha was going to be fine and that she just didn’t want to rush things.

After all, she had taken it pretty bad that she had hurt Luz that way.

 After Willow and Gus had left, Amity was just finishing up her homework that Willow and Gus had picked up from a classmate, and Eda and King packed their things up as well.

Luz’s eyes went wide at that, and she almost sat up again but remembered the pain before, so she stayed put.

“Eda, are you going back to the Owl House?”

Her mentor grimaced at that and shrugged, nodding.

“I wanna sleep in my nest, kid. I’ve been here for the last few days, I really need my house back now, especially since you’re awake and okay again.”

The human pouted at that and shook her head, “But Eda, I don’t wanna be alone tonight!”

The older witch deadpanned at that, but the two teenagers could see she was struggling to leave her apprentice alone.

“Kid, you’ll be fine for the night, I’m sure.”, Eda began, then a sinister look snuck into her eyes, “You could ask the Blight kid to stay.”

In an instant, Amity blushed hard again.

“I-I already stayed a night! My parents will kill me anyway, for skipping school! I shouldn’t, really.”

Luz’s puppy eyes weren’t enough to make her reconsider, her parents’ wrath was scarier than Luz was cute. In fact, she should call the twins right now to be picked up.

While Eda and Luz continued discussing, she summoned her scroll phone and called Edric’s phone. Shortly after, her brother picked up.

“Hi, Edric. Could you come to pick me up at the Healer’s Coven? It’s already after dark…”

Her brother lightly chuckled at that, then he seemed to whisper something with Emira, before answering.

“What do you mean, Mittens? You’re already home.”

“Hah hah, very funny.”, Amity rolled her eyes at her sibling’s antics, “Come pick me up now, mother and father will be furious enough that I skipped school today.”

Again, her brother’s voice seemed too innocent for her liking when he replied.

“But you went to school today, Mittens, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

This was getting on her nerves.

“Edric, I’m serious, you doofus. Hand the phone to Em.”

He did as she had instructed him to, but Emira sounded just like their brother, making Amity’s anger boil.

“Hey Mittens, I’d say a thank you would be fitting now, don’t you think?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. What did you two do?”, Emira and Edric chuckled again in the background and Amity growled.

“We only saved your nerd butt, little sister! Thank us tomorrow when you’re done flirting with Luz. Oh, and greet that cutie from us! We’re very glad she’s okay.”

Suddenly, she understood her siblings’ smugness. Oh no, that’d be expensive for her.

“… What do you want for the Illusion spell?”

Again, the twins laughed at each other, as if they had a sinister plan. In fact, they sounded exactly like Eda had looked.

“For you to become cool and bring home a girlfriend. And now be a dear and go to bed, like your Illusion just did.”

A click later, Amity almost felt like fainting from all the blood shooting into her face. These smug demons. She turned back to Eda and Luz who were still arguing about whether to leave King here or not when they noticed her having stopped calling. For some reason, Eda smirked.

“My siblings are little snakes and make me stay here.”

“How come?”, Luz asked, looking surprised. She was so sweet and naïve, Amity almost had to sigh.

“They created an Illusion of me so mother and father wouldn’t find out about me sneaking out last night. They kept it up the whole day and it’s in my bed right now.”

Eda chuckled.

“Your siblings are geniuses. I would’ve liked to be able to do that in school.”, she finally admitted and Amity only blushed in a deeper shade of red, while Luz lightened up.

“That means you can stay the whole night?”, she already smiled and Amity just couldn’t stay mad at her siblings. She knew they were just helping in their own, smug way.

“Yea, I suppose it means exactly that.”, she exchanged a small smile with Luz. This was going to be fine, right? She would be fine. She had done one night already! She could do a second!

Eda put all the stuff she had needed to stay here for an extended time in a bag and swung it on Owlbert who was ready in the air.

“Well then, you kids stay out of trouble. Don’t have any fun without me. And you-”, she glared at Luz, “Stay in bed.”

Both of them nodded and waited until Eda had finally wrestled King onto her staff and flown away, then Amity turned back to Luz who was already grinning in excitement.

“Azura Book Club?”, she asked and Amity had to smile at that.

“I forgot Book 5 here when I visited yesterday, we can read that!”

Luz pumped a fist in the air but immediately yelped and let it sink slowly again, causing Amity to drop her small bag that she had originally packed to be picked up, and rush to her side.

“Are you okay?”, she asked, her eyes filling with worry, “Luz, you gotta mind how you move, we want you to get better…”

The Latina nodded slowly, then she sighed and rubbed her shoulder, before testing her toes again. She could still feel them, it had just been a little scare.

“Yeah, I know… Still, I’d like to sit up.”

Amity deadpanned.

“Did you even listen to what I literally just said?”, she asked exasperatedly, spreading her arms in a gesture as if to ask why. Luz managed a strained smile.

“I’ve been on my back the entire time since I woke up… Amity, I just wanna sit for a moment, otherwise I’ll die here. Can you help me?”

Amity flinched at the phrasing and bit her lip. She didn’t know enough about humans. Did they really die when lying on their bed for too long?

“W-Would you-… Really die?”

Luz rolled her eyes at that but smiled, then she shook her head, not wanting to upset her.

“No, I wouldn’t actually die. It’s just an expression. But I’d still like to sit up. Can you prop up your frame here, like back home?”

Amity nodded and got behind the bed, then she grabbed the lever to unhinge the frame so she could prop it up, but hesitated to pull it.

“Are you sure that you can’t get more hurt through that? Like, 100%, absolutely positively sure?”

Luz nodded and looked at her upside down.

“I am otterly sure.”, then she grinned.

Amity shook her head at that, sighing, “You’re unbelievable. Okay, you stay on the mattress until I propped you up as far as it goes, and then you wait for me to help you sit, okay?”

Luz nodded again, this time staying silent at her words. She seemed to concentrate.

“As soon as you feel pain, let me know.”

With that, Amity pulled the lever to unhinge the bedframe and slowly propped it up before clicking it into place at the highest option, then she secured the lever again and walked to Luz’s side to see the girl leaning against the propped-up mattress with a smile.

“That’s already way better. And technically, I’ll do what Eda said, stay in bed.”

Then she slowly lifted her hands, asking Amity to come closer with grabby hands.

“And now help me up.”

The young witchling sighed, then she let her eyes wander over the human’s face. There were no signs of hidden pain. She didn’t seem to be in pain. Apparently, as far as moving her body carefully was concerned, she was okay. But Amity wasn’t too sure about Luz using her own muscles yet.

On the other hand, she had already rolled over without feeling pain.

“Okay. But we do this slowly and as soon as you feel bad, we stop, you got that?”, Luz still made the grabby hands and Amity sighed then, nodding.

She sat down by Luz’s side to carefully wrap an arm around her waist, careful to squish the mattress and not move Luz’s spine too much, before feeling Luz gingerly wrap her arm around her shoulders and them joining their free hands in front of them. It almost felt like when Luz and she had danced at Grom.

“Okay, slowly, on three. One… Two… Three.”

Amity softly pressed her up with her shoulder, taking care not to move or bend her spine too much and minding her back to stay straight, and she pulled with her hand in Luz’s.

Luz panted and sweat formed on her forehead, but she didn’t make a sound when she sat up and finally let their arms sink, still leaning heavily onto Amity but managing to keep her straight back by herself.

For a moment, Luz looked around, then she turned back to Amity, who only then noticed how close they were to each other. Spluttering, she blushed deeply, before coughing and blinking a little too fast.

“A-Are you in pain?”, she finally managed and Luz made a wavy hand. She didn’t know what that meant.

“A little. But it’s fine! That’s just how it feels like to sit after some time of lying in bed. Wow, I am so glad to be sitting right now, I really need that.”, Luz immediately brabbled and the witchling couldn’t help but smile at that.

“Are you sure you wanna stay like that?”

Luz began sweating. So, she was in more pain than she would’ve liked to admit. Amity frowned and brought her free hand up to Luz’s shoulder to get her attention as Luz rested her head on hers.

“Luz, I really think you should lie down.”, she began but the girl groaned and shook her head.

“Just another moment. I-… I’ve been so sick of not moving, I just wanna-…”, another groan. That was the end of the line for Amity.

“Hold on, I’m helping you back down.”

Luz whined at that but she wouldn’t let her talk her out of this. She had to lie back down since her body wasn’t ready for moving too much yet.

Her face was a little more ashen when she sank into the covers and Amity wanted to pull her arm out but Luz kept her close.

“Just-… Just for right now. Stay. Just for this moment.”, the human panted, the sweat slowly subsiding, leaving her skin cooling out.

“Luz-”

“… Just a moment.”, the girl interrupted her and began breathing slower again, much to Amity’s relief. The color slowly returned to her face and she leaned against her friend, completely exhausted, “I just want this moment.”

Amity sighed and let her head rest against her cheek, then she slowly brushed a moist strand of hair out of her face and kissed her forehead.

In an instant, she froze up, while Luz hummed.

She had not just done that. After watching so many teen romances with Luz, the gesture had stuck with her, but she never thought it’d come to her so naturally. While sitting next to Luz, her arm trapped beneath the girl’s back, half lying, leaning against the mattress, holding her exhausted friend. This had been completely reflexive. Amity slowly pulled back when Luz frowned, huffing.

“Why’d you stop, I liked that-…”, she drawled, more asleep than she was awake by now. Amity, her face now a blaring red, merely gave her a neutral hum and then carefully pulled her arm out to lower the bed back down. By the time Luz was horizontal again, she had regained some of her consciousness to look at Amity.

“Can I get a goodnight kiss like that every night now?”, she asked, her eyes dazed and her words slurring. Amity wordlessly sat down on the chair, opened Azura Book 5, and cleared her throat to begin reading, still shocked from her action and desperately trying to ignore that ever happened but Luz made it clear that she was not interested in making her life easy, “Please?”

Amity concealed another splutter with a cough, then she nodded at her lap, not daring to look up. The book was right in front of her eyes. She could just start reading as she read to the kids, and everything would be forgotten, but once again when she breathed in, Luz picked that exact moment to make her life even harder.

“Thank you…”

Amity finally looked up to meet her gaze and her friend genuinely smiled. The young witchling shyly smiled back before starting to read Chapter 12.

“But the good witch Azura wouldn’t stand down. She had her ally Hecate by her side and she would fight for the good. ‘So be it!’, she called out, ‘If you refuse to leave, we wi-”

“‘If you refuse to leave, we will make you regret that decision!’, and Hecate nodded in agreement.”, Amity rolled her eyes softly, smiling. Luz could recite the book word by word.

“If you want to read?”

But as she had asked that question, Luz had already fallen asleep. Shaking her head, Amity leaned back, adjusted the book, and started anew.

“‘If you refuse to leave, we will make you regret that decision’, and Hecate nodded in agreement. They readied their staffs and-”

---

Let me know if you liked the continuation!

#toh #the owl house #lumity #amity blight #luz noceda #willow park #gus porter #edalyn clawthorne #edric and emira #boscha #cat #skara #amelia

[depressedkakashihatake-fics]

Injuries Bringing Us Together

Hatake Kakashi/Maito Gai

2028 Words

Kiss: Palm of the Hand kiss

For: @alumort​ @temarihime​ @trekkie-in-space​ (who came up with the beautiful idea of a fic)

Itchy

There was an urge deep down inside of Kakashi’s soul. One that screamed at him to rip off the cast that the medical ninja had just finished putting on his hand after he had destroyed the last one. He was barely able to contain the urge with a reminder that the medical ninja had specifically threatened him with placing him off duty for a month as punishment if he had to come in again for another new cast.

A week was bad enough. If he had to stay in the village for an entire month he was likely to murder someone, and that would just get him into more trouble.

For the first time in his career as a shinobi, Kakashi was actually angry with an enemy because of what they did to him. Not for hurting his teammates, or putting civilians in danger. No, he was used to being mad at enemy shinobi for things like that.

Today though, he was angry about his hand. 

Specifically, about the moment that his enemy had decided to break his hand to prevent him from using his chidori to attack them after they had realized he didn’t actually need to weave signs to produce the electricity in his hand.

That he had a jutsu he could perform even with his hands tied behind his back. 

They were smart, he’d give them that. But that fact didn’t make him hate them any less when the biggest, heaviest member of their team stomped down on his right hand with all of his might, crushing his bones in an instant.

Really, it was a miracle that he had a hand left at all. That his bones hadn’t been reduced to powder under the force of that stomp, and that he had actually been able to force himself to produce a chidori even afterwards.

Though, that last part was sheer force of will. It had taken him 7 different attempts, and a lot of pain. His enemies had even laughed at him when they realized what he was trying to do.

They quickly stopped laughing when electricity started sparking in his hands, and by the time his teammates found him all three of their enemies were unconscious on the ground.

He still wasn’t exactly sure what he had done to manage that, since he had blacked out from the pain somewhere in the middle. Though he was guessing it probably had something to do with his chidori meeting the ground. 

That had been his plan after all, so his body had likely taken over for him when his brain decided to shut down because of the pain he was in. He was just thankful that his teammates had found him before the enemy shinobi were able to wake up. There was no doubt in his mind they would have forgotten about getting him back to Suna for interrogation and decided instead to murder him right where they were.

Not the best way for a shinobi to die.

“Rival!” He recognized the voice immediately, but there was something missing. An overwhelmingly enthusiastic tone seemed to be absent, and that didn’t sit well with Kakashi. He didn’t like it at all. 

Turning towards the voice he looked at the other man as he made his way towards him, and immediately started to scan Gai’s body for any sign of injury. His eyes zeroed in on the brace wrapped around his left bicep all the way down to his wrist.

Now he was worried.

“Rival, i was not expecting y-”

Whatever Gai was going to say was cut off when Kakashi surged forward, invading his personal space in a way he never had before and grabbing his left wrist and brought the injured arm up closer so he could take a better look at the brace.

For the first time since he had gotten home, Kakashi forgot about his own injury. His attention focused instead on Gai as he examined the brace. “What happened?” The question is simple but firm, and he knows it catches Gai off guard. It’s not normal for Kakashi to worry about anyone else when they’re in the village. Injuries happen to everyone. It was a common occurrence in the life of a shinobi.

 But here he was, clearly agitated by Gai’s injury.

“I uh-” Gai closed his eyes and chuckled “I had a bit of a difficult mission with a much more skilled shinobi than I am used to. To win the fight I was forced to open the fifth gate for the first time and- well my body took issue with this.”

There was a reason he hated the eight gates. Ever since seeing Gai open the fourth gate for a mission, and had subsequently torn the muscles in his arm while delivering a deadly blow to their enemies abdomen. As useful as the gates were in a sticky situation, he hated seeing Gai in pain, and anything past the first gate always caused him some amount of pain.

Perhaps that was why Kakashi had stopped learning the gates himself when he had mastered the first gate, though he also didn’t feel the same drive as Gai to open all of them. Not to mention he didn’t think he could learn them all, not like Gai was able to. He didn’t have the same drive and abilities as Gai that allowed him to learn the gates, and part of him was thankful for that.

He had enough working against him with Obito’s sharingan in his eye socket. He didn’t need more help hurting himself from the right gates.

With his hand still clasped firmly around Gai’s wrist, Kakashi scanned over the brace once more. Trying to will it away in his own mind as if that would suddenly remove the injury from Gai.

“Kakashi,” Gai’s voice is soft and full of fondness when he says his name. “I’m fine. The Doctors said that it should be healed in a few days with a mixture of rest and medical ninjutsu.”

“Huh,” It was rare for both of them to be in the village at the same time any other day, but for both of them to have injuries that had them benched from missions for the next few days. That was improbable, and yet here they were. “I guess that means i’ll be seeing you around a bit more than usual.”

Not a situation he was particularly against. Though he was aware he came off as ‘cold’ and ‘dismissive’ of Gai most days, he really wasn’t trying to be. He just had a lot on his mind and it was hard to focus on anything but work and his own self deprecating thoughts when he barely had any time to breath between missions. 

Maybe with some time off together he could make it up to Gai.

“How about a challenge,” The hope of relaxing with his friend during his time off came crashing down on him like a ton of bricks. Why was it that Gai always wanted to do a challenge when they were together? It was always the first thing that he asked for. “We could have a race.”

“With your arm?” Kakashi narrowed his eyes. “The doctors would kill you when you go back to them in worse shape than you left them in. Not a chance, Gai.” And that wasn’t even touching on the fact that his hand was broken and wouldn’t heal properly if he tried to use it in any way. Which did include running, unfortunately. Anything but keeping his hand at his side constantly would cause a fit of pain that he didn’t want to deal with.

“Ok then,” placing a finger against his chin, Gai started to think through his options while Kakashi continued to look over the brace on his left arm. There wasn’t really anything to look over a second time, but he couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away from it. “How about an arm wr- no that won’t work.”

“How about,” Gai’s eyes lit up as soon as Kakashi opened his mouth. It was so rare for the Sharingan user to suggest a challenge for them. “Janken.”

There’s a triumphant look on his face when Gai’s shoulders whole upper body collapses forward as if someone has just set an unbearable weight upon his shoulders. He really did enjoy bugging his friend a little too much some days.

“I’m kidding,” well only partially. “We could do a challenge that’s not too demanding. One that won’t get us in trouble for straining ourselves when we are supposed to be relaxing.”

With new life in his soul, Gai straightened up and beamed at Kakashi. “An eating contest!” He proclaimed, loud enough to catch the attention of everyone within a five meter radius of them. “At the Ramen shop. We have not had the chance to get some ramen together in a long time, rival.”

Food didn’t sound like a terrible idea, and Ramen was certainly a better choice than some of the other things the pair had eaten together in the past.

“Sure, why not,” He could handle a challenge. Especially if it meant spending some time with Gai that didn’t involve running around the village or getting face planted into the dirt in a spar. “But you have to promise to stop eating before you barf this time.”

The last thing either of them needed was Teuchi kicking them out of the shop because Gai made a mess on the floor. It was one of the few places that he liked to eat when he managed to find time to go out with his friends. 

“I will make this promise, but only because i know i’m going to win this time,” As confident as ever, Gai threw his good hand out and gave Kakashi his signature ‘thumbs up’ pose. “And with this victory i will be two points ahead of you in our competitions.”

Ok, now he had to win. There was no way he could let Gai get too far ahead of him in their competition. 

“Mmmm, we’ll see,” releasing his grip on Gai’s arm, Kakashi moved to take a step back only to have Gai reach out with his good hand and stop him. “Gai?”

“I just realized that it might be difficult for you to participate in an eating competition,” Kakashi was about to ask what Gai meant when the Taijutsu user moved his hand down to his wrist and carefully lifted his broken hand between them. It was a bit embarrassing to admit, but he had actually forgotten about his own injury while worrying about Gai. “Do we need to think of another competition, Rival?”

Warm.

There was a warm feeling deep inside of his chest when Gai asked that simple question with soft kind eyes. He couldn’t explain why the feeling had bloomed so suddenly, but he liked it. 

It felt like home.

“I’ll be fine, Turtle,” Using the nickname he had given Gai only a few years ago, he smiled when he saw the way Gai’s eyes widened in surprise. “I’m ambidextrous. I can use my left hand to eat.”

Accepting the answer that he had been given, Gai turned his hand over so that it was facing palm up, and leaned down to press a kiss against the cast. Suddenly, the warm feeling in his chest blossomed into something else.

A feeling he wasn’t quite familiar with, but wasn’t completely new. It was something he always felt when Gai was being particularly soft with him, and he wished he could hold onto that feeling all the time.

Love.

That’s what Kushina-Sensei had called it the first time he described it to her, just days before the nine tails attack on the village. 

“W-we should go,” He cringed when his voice cracked under the pressure of his embarrassment. “We have a competition t-to do.”

Standing up straight, Gai released his hold on Kakashi’s hand and gave him a bright smile. “You are correct,” He stepped forward and threw an arm around Kakashi’s shoulder, turning him 180 degrees and heading down the street. “To Ichiraku Ramen!”

#KakaGai #GaiKaka #Hatake Kakashi #Maito Gai #Kakashi Hatake/Maito Gai #Maito Gai/Hatake Kakashi #Fluff #Adorable boys being adorable

[anotherfacelessauthor]

Sirius’ new style - excerpt from By The Moon

Year 5

September, 1975

Remus Lupin was already sitting down in the compartment, legs tucked into his chest, eyes glued to the most recent escapist novel he’d found over the summer, when he heard the door open. As Sirius Black walked in, sporting a leather jacket, ripped skinny jeans, and a black eye, Remus thought he’d forgotten how to breathe.

He looked more confident than ever (not that confidence was anything Sirius had ever lacked) and casually leaned against the doorframe, a few cheap silver necklaces swaying around his neck. He could hear the faint click as they rattled against each other. Remus got the strange urge to take his picture—capture the moment before it was over and could leave his mind forever. He also wanted to submit to new, surprisingly strong impulses, screaming at him to reach out and grab the jewelry in his hand, pull the other boy into a fierce kiss—“‘Sup Moony?” Sirius asked innocently, as if nothing had changed since they’d gotten off the Hogwarts Express a few months prior.

“Sirius! You’ve—uh… changed,” was all Remus could spit out, mentally banging his head against the wall. You’ve changed? That’s all you’ve got? Your best mate got really fuckin’ hot over the summer and all you can say is you’ve changed?

But Sirius laughed it off, brushing a hand through his long hair. His nails had chipped black paint and a few shiny rings were scattered—one on his thumb, two on his ring finger, one in the middle—“Yeah, I switched up my style a bit haven’t I? Had a new friend help me out with that. D’you like it?” His demeanor shifted just slightly, from completely carefree, to a bit more interested. Remus barely noticed.

Like it? Bloody hell—wear that everyday and I’ll never focus in lessons again—

“Looks good, yeah." Remus swallowed. "More you.” He paused, wondering if he should address… “What happened to your eye?”

Sirius looked confused for a second, as if he’d completely forgotten about the giant bruise covering half his face, “Oh, this old thing? Nothing special, just—”

But Remus had stood up to get a closer look, revealing just how much taller he’d gotten over the summer and the rest of Sirius’ sentence stuck in his throat.

“Bloody hell Moony, you’ve grown!” Sirius exclaimed, stumbling back and looking Remus up and down, trying to swallow back all the thoughts that had been swimming in his head all summer. Sirius tried, and failed, to hide the shock as he bumped up against the sliding glass doors of the compartment. He couldn't look away. Remus looked effortlessly cool, sweater and jean jacket and another book hanging loosely, forgotten in his hands. The soft curls, the familiar freckles, the healing scars—Sirius felt warmth rising in his cheeks. Who’s that one person that feels like home… who holds your world in the palm of their hand without either of you noticing? He shook off the memory like a dog shaking off water and sat down.

Not a problem for today.

Before the moment could turn awkward, the last two Marauders showed up, babbling about their summers and how James was back and better than ever, ready to win over Lily Evans.

“Merlin, James, are you ever going to give it a rest?” Remus joked, turning away from Sirius to avoid staring. He felt himself falling back into the mess of yearning and want that had consumed him in third year, and Remus was desperately trying to claw himself out. With the OWLs coming up, he had no time for hopeless pining. Plus, he was still curious about the black eye but figured if Sirius didn’t tell him alone, he certainly wouldn’t be more willing to do so in front of the others.

***

Something that took both Sirius and Remus by surprise on the train ride was the astonishing number of girls who stopped by the Marauder's compartment to wave at Sirius, and giggle when he waved back, running a casual hand through his hair.

It was only after the fifth group passed by, a couple of Ravenclaw fourth years, that James asked, “Oi, Pads. How’re you doing that?” He paused, “And d’ya think it’d work on Evans?”

Sirius just shrugged, “I’m not doing anything. Just my natural charm—plus I got better looking over the summer. It’s a shame it didn’t happen to you—” he was cut off by James’ fist knocking into his shoulders, right on one of the healing bruises, causing Sirius to take in a sharp breath. He tried to play it off, knocking James right back, avoiding Remus’ eyes, but he could tell he’d noticed.

Lily stopped by as they were still touselling—to the excitement of James, who immediately straightened up and ruffled his hair, and the second hand excitement of Peter—but she barely acknowledged them, turning instead towards Remus.

She crossed her arms, leaning against the compartment door. “What are you doing?”

He furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Prefects are meeting in our carriage in five minutes, c’mon get changed!”

“Oh shit—” Remus began rummaging through his things frantically.

The other boys sat back in astonishment. Peter was the first to speak, “No.”

“You’re saying—”

“Our Moony—”

“A prefect?!”

Remus dug out a shiny badge, and the compartment exploded once more.

“How dare you—”

“Why didn’t you tell us!”

“Does this mean you can take points away from Severus when he’s being a blood-purist prat—” James turned around to face Lily awkwardly, “Sorry.” He looked back at Remus and whispered, “But does it?”

Remus sighed, still digging around for his robes. “Yes, I’m a prefect, I got the letter over the summer. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d act like this, and no, James, I will not be taking away points from Slytherin unless someone actually breaks a rule.”

“Damn. Guess that’s why Dumbledore made you prefect over me.”

“Yeah,” Lily scoffed, rolling her eyes, “that was the only reason why.”

Remus stumbled out of the compartment, pulling on his robes and pinning his prefect badge to his chest. He and Lily were halfway down the corridor when Sirius came running out. Remus tried not to think about how perfect he looked, hair flowing as he jogged.

“Rem!” He held up a red and gold tie, and Remus looked down, realizing he didn’t have his. His cheeks flushed red.

“Oh, thanks,” he said as Sirius caught up with them, panting slightly. “I, uh—”

“Yeah, you can’t tie a tie quickly Moony, I know. We’ve lived in the same dormitory for four years now.” Sirius stepped forward and began wrapping the fabric around Remus’ neck and popped up the collar on his white shirt, having to reach up slightly now that Remus stood almost a head taller than him. Remus was hyper aware of how very close to him Sirius was standing, feeling every brush of his soft hands, cold rings against the nape of his neck sending a new swarm of butterflies.

Lily stifled a giggle while Sirius’ hands flew, “You’re a prefect and you can’t tie a tie?”

“I can! It just… takes a few tries to get it right.”

Sirius tightened the knot, laying the tie flat and tucking it into Remus’ sweater. Remus hoped he couldn’t feel his heartbeat racing. It was so loud in his own ears he could hardly hear anything else. “There you go!” He adjusted it once more, laying the collar flat. “Good luck in there. Don’t let them turn you into a goody-two shoes prat—no offense Lily—”

“None taken.”

“And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Got it?”

Remus held his hands up in surrender, feeling like he was going to burn up if Sirius stayed that close to him, just a breath away, for even a moment longer. “Got it, Pads.”

They stood there for half a second before Lily tugged Remus away, saying, “C’mon Remus, we’re gonna be late,” but it felt like ages. Remus, looking into Sirius’ stormy grey eyes, which were so intently fixed on him, as if he were everything that mattered in that moment. Remus shook his head, trying to erase the shock. He was making things up again, feeding into a third year fantasy of a Sirius Black who liked him back, and now Lily was dragging him toward the prefect’s compartment.

“Did you see the way he looked at you?” Lily whispered, pulling on his sleeve.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lily.” Remus tried to keep his emotions concealed, his face stony.

“You don’t still like him, do you?” When he didn’t respond, she squealed with delight, “Oh you do! This is so exciting! Who’s gonna—”

“Lil, please don’t do this. I don’t wanna get my hopes up all over again. He’s not even gay! And he doesn’t know I’m—”

“You haven’t told them?”

Remus scratched his neck awkwardly, “Well, I was gonna get to it… and then I just—” but before he had to make up some lame excuse as to why he hadn’t come out to his three closest friends, the pair reached the door to the prefect’s carriage and hurried in.

Remus barely listened the whole train ride. The Head Boy droned on and on about ‘personal responsibility’ and ‘being model students’ and some other shit about the prefects’ duties which had already been listed in the letter sent over the summer.

He tried not to think about Sirius Black and his new clothes and long hair and black eye, but it was useless. He couldn’t stop replaying the moment Sirius had come into the compartment over and over again in his mind, and the way Sirius had stayed so close to him, even after finishing tying his tie. What he really tried not to do, and somehow managed to do (for the most part) was think about holding Sirius’ hand, or kissing Sirius’ lips and neck and-

Hello! The sensible voice in Remus’ voice screamed in protest. He’s still your best mate and this little crush reviving doesn’t change that.  

So Remus tried to listen to the Head Girl who was now discussing the amenities that were only accessible to prefects. He figured this could at least be a bit useful at some point this year.

***

Continue reading on Ao3

#by the moon #by the moon excerpt #excerpt #wolfstar #wolfstar fic #wolfstar fanfiction #marauders #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #jily #moony #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #moony x padfoot #remus #remus lupin #remus x sirius #siriusxremus #sirius #sirius black #sirius x lupin #sirius orion black #james #james potter #peter #peter pettigrew #wormtail #prongs #padfoot #harry potter

[analogicisms]

Music & Poetry - Chapter One

Summary: Popular-but-not-really-famous lyricist Virgil Quinn meets an attractive poet named Logan who claims to hate music. Virgil, who believes lyrics to be every bit the poetry as the kind found in books and anthologies and inspirational posters, feels the need to prove to Logan wrong.

Ship: Analogical (with others in the background)

Rating & Warnings: PG 13.

Chapters: 1 - 2

AO3: Chapter One

Thanks to @romantichopelessly for betaing and to @sunshineandteddybears and @paperghastly for pre-reading.

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Chapter One

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♞ LOGAN ♞

Logan sighed as he checked his phone for the second time in two minutes. He was standing outside of the main hall of the university where he would be speaking on that day. Due to his need for extensive planning, however, he was nearly two hours early for when he was required to be there. 

 He considered checking in with the dean of the school but knew that many people felt inconvenienced by those who arrived more than an hour early. Typically, Logan didn’t care too much about inconveniencing others with early arrivals, but Thomas Sanders, the dean of the school, was not just some man who had invited him to speak at this year’s graduation. Thomas was also a very dear friend of his, and Logan would hate to add any undue anxiety onto the man’s already burdened shoulders. 

Sighing again, Logan considered the time once more before opening Google Maps and searching for nearby cafes. 

 Of course, Logan thought as his eyes took in the ten plus pins indicating Starbucks Coffee shops in the area. It was not that Logan was a coffee snob, though his best friend Roman would disagree, he was simply a man who knew what he liked, and Starbucks was awful in terms of taste compared to value. In his opinion, of course—although anyone who disagreed was an idiot.

 Scrolling down to the list, his gaze was caught by the third listing. The Bumble Bean. Logan hummed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the pun. It was, after all, better than the alternative. 

 He noted the letter corresponded with the shop before consulting the map. Clicking on the name of the cafe, it popped up on the map and Logan clicked its little pin. The shop’s information appeared in a little bubble, including the business hours and, more importantly, the distance from his current location. 

 A block and a half away. Not bad for a walk, especially considering the suit he wore. Decision made, Logan set down his messenger bag long enough to pull off the suit jacket. Lifting his bag from the ground, he draped his jacket over the bag and shouldered the strap once more. 

 A quick click of the directions link on Google Maps and he was on his way. 

     ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆

 💀 VIRGIL 💀

 Virgil leaned back in the leather armchair he occupied, covering a yawn with his arm. 

 “Don’t start with that now, ViVi.” 

 Virgil grinned as he looked up at the barista who also happened to be his best friend. 

 “Sorry, Pat.” 

 Patton Hart was five foot four inches of adorable from the top of his curls to his white chucks with rainbow cat faces printed on the material. He also had the endearing habit of worrying for his friends. Especially Virgil. 

 “Late night again?” Patton asked, brows furrowing in concern behind oversized glasses with gold round frames. Virgil nodded. “Sleep is important, kiddo.” 

 Anyone who overheard the conversation would likely wonder why Patton—who easily looked younger than Virgil, though they were actually the same age—was calling him kiddo, but Virgil had come to accept that as just Patton being Patton. He was definitely a mom and dad friend.

 Virgil sighed. “Yeah.” He brought a hand to his eyes, closing them to rub at the lids before offering Patton a winning smile. “These lyrics won’t write themselves.” 

 Patton pursed his lips as he set Virgil’s black coffee down on a coaster. Once he’d straightened up, hands were fisted and rested on hips. Virgil tried his best to hold back a grin, but the other looked too adorable like that and so he failed. Miserably. 

 “It’s not funny, Virgil. One of these days, you’re gonna wish you’d listened to dear ol’ Patton.”

 “And when that day comes, I will gladly accept your ‘I told you so’. Unfortunately, I’m a night owl and my brain works best in the dead of night.” 

 Patton tutted but said nothing else on the matter. “Don’t forget, its drinks night tonight. Emile will be late but I should be able to close up a little early so I’ll be there at ten.” 

 Virgil nodded. “Alright. Honestly, though, I don’t know why I even go. Ever since you two started dating, I feel like such a third wheel. Are you sure you two just don’t want the time to yourself? You and I could always catch up later.”

 “Nonsense. Emile is as much your friend as he is mine, boyfriend or not. And, I don’t want to hear another word about it, mister.” 

 Virgil snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Okay, mom.” 

 “Good. Now, drink your coffee before it gets cold.” He glanced up at the front and gave a start. “Oops, gotta get back to work. I’ll try to chat when the rush ends.” 

 Virgil waved him off. “Sure thing, buddy. Talk to you later.” 

 Watching Patton make his way behind the counter, Virgil let his gaze wander to take in the other patrons of the little cafe. A smile slipped onto his lips as he remembered the day three years ago when Patton rushed up to him before blurting out his idea for a bookstore coffee house. Virgil had never seen his best friend so excited about anything in his life, which was saying a lot considering Patton’s default setting was excited. 

 It had taken a lot of work and Virgil had put a lot of money into the place—an investment, he had told Patton when the other tried to refuse—but the struggle had paid off in the end. The Bumble Bean had quickly become one of the hot spots in town, especially for students at the local university and high schools. Virgil was proud of his friend and never missed a chance to tell him, either. 

 The gentle, light sound of the bell on the door sounded and Virgil idly glanced in that direction. 

 Oh. My. God. 

 A man who looked not much older than Virgil--but dressed in way nicer clothes than Virgil had ever owned--stepped inside and looked around before heading toward the counter. Virgil watched him as he made his way across the café, his eyes taking in the man's face as his own heated up considerably. 

 Gay panic is real.

 Virgil quickly looked away, busying himself with drinking his coffee. Unfortunately, due to his preoccupied brain, he had forgotten that coffee was generally very hot, and burned his tongue. 

 “Fuck.” He swore under his breath, tongue now numb and raw. Setting the cup down, Virgil glanced at the man from the corner of his eye. 

 I’m gay. I am so fucking gay.

 Virgil watched as the man stepped up to the counter after the last customer finished paying. He found himself wondering what kind of drink the man would order, mentally reminding himself to ask Patton later. Watching Patton help the man, Virgil guessed at what kind of job the man had. 

 A businessman… then again, those pants are fitted as fuck… lawyer, maybe? Or CEO of some Fortune 500… 

 Pursing his lips, Virgil shook his head. The man didn’t look like a slimy, two-timing, grubby-handed snake. It was possible he was dressed for a specific event. The suit aside, Virgil would guess a professor, or a scientist even. There was no way he would be able to guess correctly, he decided. No point trying. 

 Turning his attention to his coffee, Virgil was momentarily distracted by the sound of feedback coming from the front. A stage was set up on the opposite side of the entrance, a young guy around Virgil’s age if not younger moving the stool closer to the microphone already present. There was a guitar in his other hand and a smile slipped onto Virgil’s face. 

 Virgil Quinn was a college student at the local university but he was also a well-known lyricist. Well, well-known was a little generous considering most people weren’t really interested in lyricists so much as the band or artist themselves. Most lyricists were annoyed by that fact but not Virgil. He liked being famous without actually being famous. 

 Unlike the bands that sang his songs, Virgil could go where he liked, when he liked, with no concern for his safety or his privacy. Even on the rare occasion, a fan did care about the person who wrote the songs, his work was still appreciated and loved from afar. His pictures weren’t the ones being plastered online, on busses, on television ads, and so on. He had more Twitter, Instagram, and YouTube followers than the average person and he was relatively “known”, but definitely not enough that it made much difference to his daily life. 

 That was exactly how Virgil preferred it. 

 “Do you mind?”

 Virgil’s attention had been successfully distracted enough that he hadn’t noticed anyone come up. 

 “Mind?” Virgil’s indifferent attitude quickly turned shy and awkward as he turned to look at the person who asked the question. The gorgeous Mr. Maybe-A-Scientist.

 “I’d like to claim that chair over there but I’ll need to get past you to get there. If you don’t mind.”

 Virgil seized up before mentally reminding himself that this was just another guy. Another human being. He could play it cool. 

 Don’t blush. Don’t blush. Don’t blush. 

 Virgil glanced at the chair before looking back up at the man. He cleared his throat and stood up. 

 In the brief few seconds that past between them as Virgil stood so he could shift out of the man’s way, Virgil became certain of a handful of things. 

 First, the man with his dark gray, nearly black eyes could not be a CEO or lawyer. While his eyes held a certain level of cold, there was far too much feeling in them. Too much depth. Second, the man was at least a head shorter than him but there was no way Virgil would have known if he hadn’t stood up. The confidence the man held about him was absolutely admirable. Virgil would have been worried the man was arrogant or, worse, a narcissist but he seemed far too polite and formal. Instead of self-importance, it was an air of near indifference that radiated from him.

 “Thank you.”

 “Yeah. No sweat.”

 Virgil could have mentally kicked himself. No sweat? Seriously? This man was obviously a man that existed off of intellectual knowledge and discourse. The best he could come up with was no sweat?

 Virgil watched the other’s face, certain to see some sort of sign of dismissal but it never came. Instead, the man raised a brow and a second later, his lips quirked upwards. It was slight. So slight that Virgil wasn’t even certain he truly saw it. That was until the man spoke again. 

 “I still need to get by you, I’m afraid.” 

 Was that amusement Virgil heard laced ever so subtly throughout the carefully chosen words? Virgil glanced at where he stood and swore under his breath. He was an absolute idiot. One thing was certain, however, as Virgil finally moved out of the other’s way. There was a definite spark of amusement in the man’s eyes and voice when he glanced back to thank him, before moving on to the armchair just on the other side of the coffee table. 

 Virgil blushed, quickly sitting once more and trying his best to melt into the couch. Not possible, of course, but he had to give himself props for trying. Deciding he had done enough damage to their interaction, Virgil turned his attention back to the stage where the young man with the guitar was now engaging the patrons sat around the stage. 

 As the singer started playing and fading into his song, Virgil almost forgot about Mr. Sexy Scientist. No, who was he kidding. There was no way he could actually forget about him. Not with him being so damn attractive. Not with him being so damn close. But, his focus was preoccupied just enough to take his mind off the man, if only for the moment. 

 That was, until a sound escaped the man, pulling Virgil’s attention back to him once more. Why is he so good looking? Life hated him. That was all there was to it. Putting such a gorgeous, put together man at arms reach only for Virgil to not have any chance in hell with him. The sound that left the man, however, had Virgil’s curiosity piqued. It was definitely a scoff that he had heard come from the well dressed man. 

 “Not a fan of this kind of music?” Virgil asked, before he could think better of it. He took note that the other had pulled out a book and was presumably reading it. He didn’t even look up at Virgil when answered his question. 

 “Not a fan of music, actually.” 

 Virgil raised a brow. There was no way he had heard correctly. “Sorry, what now?”

 The man looked up this time, a wry sort of expression on his face. It was the look of someone who had had this conversation on more than one occasion and didn’t find it any more enjoyable than he had the first time. Virgil felt bad, but only a little. He was more curious and so offered an apologetic shrug, but continued to look at the man expectantly. 

 The man sighed, marking the page he had been reading with a finger and set the book in his lap. His eyes found Virgil’s and it was all he could do to not look away. Swallowing hard, Virgil waited to hear what the man was about to say. 

 “I’m just not a fan of any type of music. It’s just… not my thing. I guess, classical counts as music and I do enjoy that when I am writing but in the general view of what is music these days, I really can’t say any of it has my appreciation.”

 Virgil frowned. How sad to not like any music. The man looked ready to return to his book but Virgil found himself not wanting the conversation to end just yet. Grasping for something to talk about, he took note of what the man had said. 

 “Writing?”

 The man nodded. He continued to watch Virgil but was obviously not about to offer any further information without being prompted. 

 Just my luck. The most gorgeous man walks into my life and unwittingly challenges all my anxieties. 

 “What do you write?” 

 Maybe he was an author? 

 “I’m a poet.” Suddenly a hand was offered to him from across the coffee table. Virgil took it at the last minute, shaking it and trying hard not to focus on the fact that they were technically holding hands. Too soon, the man pulled his hand back. “Logan Wright. I don’t expect you’ve heard of me but you’ve most likely come across a few of my poems. They’ve been used in various media.”

 Virgil could only nod, unsure of what to say. A poet! Not only that but a poet who doesn't like music. As a lyricist, Virgil was of the belief that lyrics were poetry put to notes in order to make a song—to make music. 

 The man went back to his book and Virgil watched him for a few moments before letting his attention return to the performer. The guy was not the best singer ever but played the guitar like a boss. Still, Virgil could hear the potential and knew well that this man could have a musical career hands down as long as he kept at it. The biggest draw to a singer like this one was that the words could be felt with his voice. That was a quality that so many singers didn’t have but the very quality that proved Virgil’s belief. 

 He knew he shouldn’t care. He knew well that the likelihood of him ever seeing this man—Logan—again was slim to none. Yet, he couldn’t keep his attention from returning to the man. Every few glances, he would see the other wince or grimace. Virgil wanted to feel offended on the singer’s behalf but instead, he just felt pity for Logan. 

 The time soon came when Logan stood and asked by him once again. This time Virgil was quick to stand and smiled shyly. 

 “Hope you have a good day.”

 Wow, could I be any more lame?

 The man smiled, however, and nodded. “Likewise.” 

 Virgil then watched him as he headed out of the shop and back into the world. 

 A few seconds passed, Virgil wishing he had asked for his number or something. Not only that, but the knowledge that the man was missing out on something that was inspiration for millions of people… that just didn’t sit right with him. If only he could spend a few days with Logan… show him what he was missing out on. Prove to him that not all music was bad and so much of it told a story. 

 Fuck.

 Before he could talk himself out of it, Virgil rushed through the shop and out the door. He glanced in the direction the man had gone, his eyes falling on his retreating back. 

 “Logan!” he called out. The man stopped and turned, tilting his head in a cute manner. Virgil didn’t focus on that, instead starting toward him as the man started back, distance closing between them. 

 “Can I help you?”

 Virgil blushed, suddenly unsure of himself. Was what he was about to propose stupid? Whatever. He would never know until he tried. 

 “Give me a week.”

 Logan snorted. “I’m sorry, give you what?”

 Virgil blushed and rushed on. “I mean… in there. What you said about music? Give me a week to prove you wrong.”

 Logan blinked and slowly smirked. “And what makes you think I’ll even be here a week?”

 That stopped Virgil in his tracks. It never even occurred to him that the man was out of town. He felt himself frowning and was about to apologize when the man spoke up again. 

 “I mean, I will be, as it turns out, but it is intriguing for you to just assume so. Still, your proposal has me curious. I don’t know exactly how you plan to change my mind, but I do like experiments as much as the next scholar. I do have somewhere to be at the present, but if you give me your number, I will text you.”

 In the next moments, Virgil gave Logan his number and watched as he walked away. He had no idea how he had managed it, but now that was the least of his worries. 

 Virgil now had just under seven days to change the mind of a very hot, intelligent, and opinionated poet. 

 To say he had his work cut out for him was definitely an understatement.

    ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆

Disclaimer:  The author does not own Sanders Sides or any of the characters found therein. They are also not affiliated with Thomas Sanders, Joan Stokes, or the Thomas Sanders team. Only the complete story as it is written is the property of the author and is not to be copied or reposted without express permission from the author.

#analogical #logan sanders #virgil sanders #ts art #sanders sides #thomas sanders #patton sanders #patmile #remas #thomas/remy #other possible ships #i don't know which at this time #| analogical ;; #| patmile ;; #| remas ;; #m&p au #| au (mine) - music & poetry ;; #| m&p ;; #| creator - analogicisms ;; #| breathtaking worlds mapped by their words ;;