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landothemuppet · 3 years

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Far Longer Than Forever (p.p)

Word count: 4737

Pairing : peter parker

Request: YES! ANON I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. The Swan Princess is one of my childhood movie and this was so fun to write. I can’t stop listenning the soundtrack now ! I’m so sorry for the time i took to write this, i had so much work to do with school. But it’s over now and i hope you will like this !

N/A: First, gif not mine but i don’t know who i’m gonna credit on this, i have no clue...This is my first Peter Parker x reader and i hope you all will like it! As always, I remind you that English is not my native language. Don’t hesitate to tell me what you think of the fic! Like, reblogs to support. You can Love you all! xx

Taglist: @angeliquekalampoka @harryhollandsgirlfriend @cedricdiggorysimpp - if you want to be notified of all my future writings you can add yourself in my taglist : here

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As far as you can remember, you've always hated summer. Well, it was partly a lie. You loved the sweltering heat of Queens, the cherry popsicles from Delmar's, not having to worry about what time you had to get up. You liked it but hated the idea of the last two weeks of August.

This year was no exception. You looked at your half-finished suitcase, a grimace on your face. August still meant the same thing, the same routine: having to spend the last three weeks of his vacation with Peter Parker.

summer 2009

Peter Parker had lost his parents very early on, two years ago. He had lived since then with his aunt May and his uncle Ben. It was your mother's idea to introduce you to each other. Aunt May and your mom were friends from college and luckily, they lived in the same neighborhood. Your first meeting with the one who, many years later, would become Spider-Man, took place on his eighth birthday. You were invited to the party when you weren't even at the same school. Aunt May had simply shared his fears about Peter's difficulty making friends after the trauma he had experienced. Your mother, as the perfect friend that she was, had suggested that Peter and you spend time together.

There were 3 kids in total at that birthday party, you, Peter - obviously - and a boy from his school whose mother had forced him to be there, too. It was a fact; you were the only girl and you didn't know Peter at all. Your mother walked up to you, got up to your eye level and whispered

"Can you be nice? May told me she invited Peter's whole class and only this boy came"

You wanted to please your mother so you nodded before approaching the two boys. Peter and his friend were in the corner of the room, their backs turned to the adults. When you tapping the young boy on the shoulder to make you notice by him, he turned to you with a guilty expression. He had buttercream all over the corner of his mouth and he was holding a cupcake in his hand that looked delicious.

“My Aunt May tried to bake a cake, but Uncle Ben bought some cupcakes in anticipation. Do you want one?” Peter asked you in a friendly voice

“Why? Is May's cake not good?

“Uncle Ben says that she is not very good at cooking.”

You let out a little laugh and nodded your head before grabbing the cupcake with a smile. You thanked him and began to taste the little pastry with envy. It was so good! The buttercream was lemony, the cupcake was slightly lemony too but there was a taste you couldn't recognize. You were almost sure you had tasted it before, but you couldn't tell what it was. Peter and the other boy suggested that you go to Peter's room. He wanted to show you the LEGO set his uncle Ben had given him ahead of time and you followed them even though you weren't more excited about the idea.

And you were right. For several minutes, you were pushed aside while the two young boys spoke spiritedly. You complained several times that you wanted to do something else but Peter didn't seem to listen to you, too excited to finally be able to chat with someone who appreciated Star Wars as much as he did.

So you were annoyed and slightly angry with Peter but what broke the camel's back is that you started to not feel so good. Your throat was itching and you felt like your tongue was taking up a lot more space in your mouth, getting drier. Peter gave you a distracted look before his eyes widened. He let go of everything he had in his hands before running to his aunt.

"Aunt May, Aunt May! Y/N's tongue looks like a big, desiccated steak!"

"Peter, don't be rude!" she exclaimed, shocked by her nephew’s words

"No, no come see, she has a huge tongue! I think something is wrong"

Meanwhile, you ran into the bathroom at Peter's reaction. You weren't sure why he had looked at you like that, but you felt that a few things were wrong. In addition, you were more and more thirsty, your eyes also hurt. And that's when you saw your reflection. You were puffy, your tongue had tripled in size, hence this feeling of dryness and discomfort. It was the same with your throat. You started to cry and when May called you through the bathroom door, you fervently opened it.

May and your mother's expression of horror was instantaneous and your mother knew exactly what was causing your condition.

"What did she eat?"

"Nothing..." he tried to escape from being grounded

"Peter, this is very important. What did you eat?"

"We just ate the cupcakes Uncle Ben brought back"

Ben looked at May with guilty eyes. May had put so much effort into Peter's birthday cake and she felt hurt that they had bought some pastries in anticipation. Your mother was impatiently stamping her foot. It was important to know exactly what you had eaten and above all, you shouldn't waste any more time. Peter felt completely helpless. He had only given a cupcake to his guest, that’s all. What was wrong with giving someone a cupcake?

"What were those cupcakes flavor?" your mother said impatiently ...

"With lemon and almonds." he said in a very small voice.

You were panicked. And the eight-year-old that you were was not coping well with stress. Plus, your feeling of being sidelined by Peter and his friend made you feel even worse. So you frowned. You couldn't see a thing but you could feel the torrent of tears escaping your cheeks. You pointed at Peter with rage

"You tried to kill me !!!" you said somehow with your tongue as big as a little tangerine.

"It's not true!"

"Yes! You are a murderer"

And you cried even more before your mother takes you to the emergency room as quickly as possible, apologizing for the scene.

The week later, May forced Peter to apologize for giving you a cupcake, while justifying that he didn't know about your allergy. Your mother forced you to apologize for insulting Peter "a murderer" and accept his apologies.

But you spent the rest of the vacation arguing with the little guy. After all, you didn't want to be friends with a murderer.

Summer 2013

Aunt May and your mom didn't let go, however, and every summer you spent three damn weeks with Peter. The summer of your twelve years, you did not thus escape this eternal masquerade but this year, the tide had turned in your favor.

From the start, you never liked Star Wars. It really wasn't your world. You had always preferred Harry Potter and although Peter had read the books and enjoyed them - which he would never admit to you as that would amount to listing the commonalities you had - he was much more invested in the galactic universe. But on that day, Peter had particularly bothered you. He had first replaced the sugar in your hot chocolate with salt. He kept chanting silly nursery rhymes about you and the downstairs neighbor, insinuating that you were in love: which was not the case. Yes, Peter had been extremely annoying. This time Peter was getting on your nerds by bouncing a small ball against the ceiling as you tried to read your book. Uncle Ben was in the living room watching the sport - you weren't sure exactly which one since it didn't matter to you - so you couldn't go anywhere else to be quiet.

"Peter, stop it."

"Stop what?" he asked by bouncing the ball once more off his ceiling. You could even make out the smirk on his lips.

"That. Stop it! I can't read."

"This is nothing new."

You threw him the first thing you found on his desk, c.e, a banana, which he easily dodged. You groaned in frustration. May and your mother didn't understand when you talked about Peter's attitude towards you. He was a calm child, far too shy at school and interested in everything, especially science. He was looking forward to entering Midletown High School in two years. You hated that nerd side about him. Secretly, you were a little jealous of him for being the smartest in the room.

“I'm gonna hit you so hard you won't know your name anymore”

“ try me, dumbass.”

A few minutes later, he had finally stopped throwing that damn ball, but obviously Peter's boredom was driving him to find everything the most boring thing than the previous one to drive you crazy. This time, he had simply taken his favorite lightsaber - because he had several - and he was poking your shoulder to get your attention.

"Parker, stop!"

"Don't you want to drop this book and watch a movie?"

"What do you want to watch? Star Wars? No thanks ..."

"Oh come on, Y / N! I'm sure you'll like it!"

He patted you on the shoulder once more with his lightsaber.

"Do you want to play this, Parker?" you said before grabbing one of his other lightsabers

"What are you going to do? I'm sure you don't know how to fight with" he mocked.

You have lit the glowing plastic stick and you are placed in the guard position.

"Do you want to bet, knothead?"

He smiled at you and attacked you first. Strangely, this is what most resembled a moment of bond between Peter and you and deep down, you appreciate it. But you also appreciate that possibility of kicking his ass after he's been so irritating. You responded to his lightsaber attacks with ease and joy. It was playful, childish, but it was one of the few times you had fun with Peter. And you really appreciate it. Your two laughs mingled, echoing in the room.

But suddenly, as you were trying to dodge an attack from the brunet, your elbow made contact with his face. Peter's muffled cry of pain echoed and you froze. He was holding his nose with a grimace and when he took his hand away you both noticed in horror that he was bleeding.

"Fuck…"

"Pete..." you started talking

"You blew my nose!" Peter shouted

"I did not do it on purpose!" you defended yourself.

"Of course, you do! You fucking blew my nose!"

"Peter, I swear ..."

But Peter interrupted you by rushing out of his bedroom looking for his aunt who was in the office as she tried to file the important papers, that Ben and her had received this week. You were livid. First, because you didn't mean to hurt Peter on purpose. Second, you couldn't stand the sight of blood and it was literally everywhere. Peter was leaving trails of droplets on the floor of the apartment.

"Aunt May?!? Y/N blew my nose! Damn, I'm bleeding!"

After a brief stint in the ER, the rest of the stay was peaceful as you and Peter avoided each other until the end of the summer.

Summer 2017

Peter was not the Peter you had always known.

Since the death of his uncle Ben, the young man had closed in on himself and was even further away. Always so intelligent and discreet but much more distant. He had stopped teasing you or doing things that got on your nerves. He was minding his own business. And even though you had tried to be there for him, not denying him any of the offers he made to you during your stay ... you found him really ... overwhelmed. Which was still understandable.

But this year was worse than the last. May told your mother that last year Peter got an internship at Stark Industry and attended a seminar in Germany but came back with a black eye. He had been acting most weirdly ever more since then. And you could have witnessed it. In the afternoon, when you were busy, and when it was too hot, when you tried to rest, Peter would disappear for hours. When you caught him sneaking back several times, he made you promise not to tell Aunt May.

And you were starting to have theories about his nighttime getaways. After all, you were 16 and you too had started dating a few boys. But it never really worked. who knows why?! And when you wondered if Peter had a girlfriend, and who she was - he had to have one in view of all his sneaking out - your stomach twisted in a strange feeling. You didn't understand why the thought of Peter having a girlfriend bothered you so much. Over time, you had learned to be friends. It still happened sometimes that you quarreled but the events of the life made you grow up. Your parents had divorced, Peter had lost his uncle. You could tell yourself that you both had grown.

And it was one night when Peter was sneaking back in again that you discovered two secrets.

The first one: He was Spider-Man.

It was around midnight when you heard the sound of the window opening. Since your childhood and this Machiavellian plan of your mother and Aunt May, you had always slept in Peter's room during holiday and more recently in his bed. The noise alerted you and you got up in a sitting position. But the only thing you saw was a foot, placed on this said window, closing it gently. How the hell was that possible?

You were ready to scream but your gut told you to look up at the ceiling. A figure hung on it and you were paralyzed. Were you having one of those weird experiences called sleep paralysis? Delicately, silently, you grabbed the first blunt object within reach. A chemistry book that Peter seemed particularly fond of. The figure stepped on the ceiling as you were paralyzed. The form turned to land on the ground and then stood up, still with its back to you. You got up gently from Peter's bed and walked over. The man in the suit whose color you couldn't see took off his mask and you hit the air in an attempt to shoot him down. Peter turned around so quickly and blocked your gesture easily, like a reflex.

"What the ..."

"Bloody hell".

You both said at the same time. Your big surprised eyes mirrored Peter's. The curly man let go of your hand with an apologetic expression as you walked away from your friend. You turned on the bedside lamp before you discovered his blue and red costume. A very recognizable costume since it was that of Spider-Man. You winced, a look of judgment and incomprehension on your face. Not bothering to look at his face covered with bruises and traces of blood.

"What the ... are you sneaking out to go to a costume party?"

"What?! No…No Y/N I’m…”

“Spider-Man? Great costume by the way” you joked.

For a moment, you completely forgot that you just saw your friend glued upside down to the ceiling. Peter looked at you a little jaded, by the tone of your voice your guess was far from a sincere question but more of a mockery. And right now, the young man needed to be honest with you. He needed you.

"But, I am."

"Yeah that's it. And I slept with the Winter Soldier. You can't imagine what he can do with his metal arm."

Peter cut you off by pulling a web with his web shooter, tying your hands. The feel of the canvas was unpleasant, sticky but above all resistant. You let out a little cry of surprise, not powerful enough to pass the walls of Peter's room. Your eyes looked like two big golf balls, realizing that your friend was telling the truth.

"Omg, You're Spider-Man" you almost spoke too loud.

"Yes and don't make me web your mouth. May doesn't have to know"

"damn, peter. What happened to your face!"

“yeah about that…I need you Y/N, please…”

And without warning, Peter squeezed the spider in the middle of his costume, at chest level. He winced at the action revealing his bruised chest. He staggered a bit from the action, unsure of his legs and the pain in his sides fierce. You might see several bruises and cuts on your friend's body. You were having difficulty swallowing before you told him you were going to the bathroom to get what you needed. Before leaving the room, he made you promise to be discreet and not tell May anything if she ran into you. When you walk back into Peter's room, he's sitting half-lying on his bed, grimacing. You sit next to him, your heart pounding. You never noticed that he was so built. After all, as a superhero, he had to keep fit. But you couldn't deny that it intimidated you. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment and a desire you never knew before. He had his eyes closed, as if trying to make the pain go away. And there, looking at him, you found him pretty. he was so cute that you couldn't help but run your hand through his curls to signal your presence and soothe him a bit. But Peter already knew you were there. He had heard your footsteps, he had smelled your scent, a sweet scent he had grown used to in his later years. He sighed softly, more relaxed. You started to clean the few shallow wounds.

"Does it hurt?" you asked quietly

"Mhmm no, not really."

"Did you win?"

"Ouch..No. Not tonight."

"Sorry." you said more for your gesture rather than the fact that he didn't win the fight against the bad guys.

"No, it's perfect ... it's just a little sensitive"

You smiled but something was wrong. A feeling you've never felt before. You've finished cleaning up Peter's wounds, but your gaze has darkened. As you were about to get up, the brunette gently grabbed your wrist to hold you back. He could hear your calm breathing and yet your heart was racing. He could feel the heat on your cheeks. He too felt that the tension was at its height. Your mind was muddled, he didn't know why, he wasn't a telepath, but he could see it, feel it. Your body betrayed your mind.

"Y/N, what is it?"

"I..I don't know." you lied.

"You can tell me everything."

"I ... Well…Seeing you like this ... makes me ... makes me realize that I ... I'm afraid of losing you."

"You won't lose me ... I promise"

You are ashamed of your vulnerable state. How did you go from hating this boy to having an overwhelming fear of losing him? You looked at those chocolate eyes in confusion and distress. You were now fully aware that the little neighborhood spider was none other than your childhood friend. The one you once loved to hate, tease, fight with over trivia. He was also on the youtube videos, who stopped cars with his bare hands.

“Y/N… you won’t lose me, I promise.”

Peter dared to walk slowly towards you and in a surge of courage, one of his hands circled your burning cheek, his lips rested on yours. The brunette had always had a crush on you without actually admitting it. After all, you had known each other since you were children but... your relationship had been rather confrontational. But for two years now, everything had changed for him. He appreciated more and more your little arguments, your teasing. His thoughts would sometimes turn darker when you lick your lips or when your fingers scratched that point behind your ear, when you were a little stressed.

Your lips moved between them in a harmonious dance and you were now clinging desperately to Peter's slightly sweaty brown curls. Your heart was pounding at a speed close to the point of no return, reluctant to stop suddenly in the face of this overstimulation. But all good things came to an end and you slowly walked away. You bit your lip to get the taste of Peter's back. Your mind wandered, lost in the haze of rushing feelings.

"You..you should rest ..."

You ended up pulling away, swallowing hard. That night you didn't sleep. You have studied every facial feature of Peter, thinking of every event since your friendship. The next day, you fooled that nothing had happened. Too scared of what that kiss meant to you.

Summer 2025

It all happened so quickly. After that summer, the summer of your kiss, you promised yourself that you understood your feelings towards Peter. You weren't going to the same high school and even though you were both on social media, you never dared to contact him. You needed time.

But you haven't had this time. Peter became full-time Spider-Man and then the aliens came to earth, again. The threat of Thanos hovered and within moments, days, hours ... you were gone under his snap.

When you returned to your childhood apartment, you were alone. Well, alone in front of the family who lived in this place now. The man in his forties simply believed you were a drug-hunting teenager squatter. Five damn years had passed. 5 years where your mother had a new life when you had been eclipsed. You were distraught, alone and it was by happy coincidence that you found May at the F.E.A.S.T project. It was a relief for you to find a familiar face again. She had suggested that you come and live in her new temporary apartment, allowing you to finish high school without having to move to the other end of the United States, with your mother. You declined your offer. You wanted to fend for yourself. And surprisingly, you did pretty well.

To be exact, Mr. Delmar was looking for a student to work in his store and was kind enough to greet you in the bedroom of one of his daughters who had gone to college. By the greatest of luck, you've never seen Peter. Or rather, you managed to avoid it for an entire year. You had caught a glimpse of him one day, trying to speak Italian to get a travel adapter and a dual headphone adapter. Did you feel foolish thinking that after so long - could we consider those 5 years to be 5 concrete years? - would it still focus on the kiss you shared? After all, you got away from him after that. And then, everything went in a state of madness.

Every time you turned on the television, you learned that elemental monsters had attacked a different country. They had first started with Mexico and then moved to Europe. Italy, Prague and then London. A certain Mysterio seemed to be taking care of this matter, but you couldn't help but think of Peter. May told you he was supposed to go to Italy. In fact, every time she went to Delmar's for a sandwich, she gave you an update on her nephew's trip. But it wasn't the craziest.

Upon his return ... Spider-man's identity was revealed. You had watched in horror the video of Mysterio, which appeared on the Daily Buggle newspaper, accusing Peter of wanting to be the new Iron-Man. You were listening to J. Jonah Jameson falsely accusing Peter of being a murderer. You knew Peter, and there was no way he had done such an act. The video was bogus, you were sure. When you tried to reconnect that summer, you noticed Peter's girlfriend. Michelle Jones and ... and that's what kept you from approaching him. He was already supported. He had his best friend, Ned. His girlfriend, MJ. And he had May. It was enough, wasn't it?

It was the following year, after a new incredible adventure that you met again.

You worked at the store in the evening. Mr Delmar had asked you to help him out urgently because his youngest daughter had a health problem. You accepted with pleasure. You had offered to babysit his daughter but the loving father he was wanted to be with her. And it was precisely this evening that a thug decided to steal the fund from you.

You were at gunpoint with your hands up in the air when you saw a red and black mass fall behind the thug.

"Hey buddy, I think the bank is across the street"

Spider-Man tapped the thief on the shoulder and dodged a punch.

"But I think I'll arrest you anyway if you went to the bank. You don't seem like a nice guy." Peter joked.

You were paralyzed as your friend, your best friend if you were honest, chained or avoided them with agility. You swallowed hard, unable to move or run away. A gunshot rang out and you smelled a scared little vintage. Peter squeezed the barrel of the gun in his hand, deviating from his course. It made sense now to say that he had simply defended himself against the assault. After a few seconds that seemed like an eternity, Peter stared the offender against a fridge door, immobilizing him. He then turned to you, oblivious to your identity at the time.

"Are you okay there?"

"Peter!"

You didn't give him the chance to realize and you rushed into his arms, hugging him so tight to feel the comfort of his body against yours.

"Uh, yeah, you're welcome. Cuddles are nice but ..."

He paused for a moment and his automated eyes widened. He knew his perfume. The flowery, sweet scents that he had missed so much. Is this possible?

"Y/N?"

You let go of him and immediately put his mask back on. Adrenaline was controlling your actions and god damn it, you needed that touch. You kissed him, bluntly. Your lips crushed against his in impatience, in ardor, but too bad. You needed to feel it against you, to regain the feeling that you had felt, years ago. After a few seconds, you felt Peter's hands encircle your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your heart was exploding, the ardor was present in your kiss. You were even frustrated that you couldn't grab her brown curls with full hands, settling for only the base of her hair. You let out a moan before pulling away abruptly. He had a girlfriend.

"I… I'm sorry. I… Sorry, I didn't mean… MJ… and… please don't blame me."

Peter silenced you with another kiss, shorter this time but so good.

“There is no MJ .... Just you and me ... Far Longer Than Forever”

You looked at him hopefully and then burst out laughing after his words.

"I didn't know you were so romantic, Parker"

"Shut your mouth."

"Make me"

"You are impossible."

"But obviously, you like"

He was going to say something to nag you, he was looking for it but you caught him off guard, placing your lips on his again. You could feel his smile in the kiss and you couldn't help but do the same. Anyone living in the neighborhood present in the street would have a view of Spider-Man kissing the student cashier from Delmar. But you couldn't care less. You had waited too long and the joy you were feeling now was so intense, you didn't want to stop feeling this. It is reluctantly that Peter moved away from you apologizing for the fact that he had to go on patrol again.

"Go save the Spider-Man neighborhood"

"Only if you promise me you'll be there when I get back."

"I was thinking of going to say goodnight to May instead ... But if you want, I have a sleeping bag in the storeroom."

"You are incorrigible .... See you later ..."

"See you later."

You smiled, in a misty state of bliss as Peter disappeared from view. This time, you weren't planning to escape, you wanted to fall into the webs of Peter Parker. You closed the store after the police visit and headed to May's flat. It was late but with her kindness she welcomed you with open arms.

This summer ... was the best in years but the others to come were going to be even more wonderful.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #tom holland #tom holland fic

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notanotherinfjblog · 3 years

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The types as strangers I wish I had known (version 4)

Previous versions: One, two, three

INTJ: She was the first person to show me kindness in a new place. Moving across the country all alone in the middle of a pandemic is not exactly the ideal start of your first real job. So she took it all on herself to take me by the hand, to organise all the things that I had no clue about. She gave me a little tour around the workplace, recommended me places to eat once the pandemic is over, asked me about how I was settling in, remembered little things I mentioned. She was the only person not working from home when I first arrived and so it was just the two of us. She was quiet and reserved as most people here seem to be, and she was awkward in every way when interacting with me. But she tried so hard and maybe it’s just me projecting, but she said her son was in the very same situation as me right now, and it felt like she tried to help me in the way she couldn’t help her son, like she wanted to take me under her wing, but not make it awkward, and then actually making it slightly awkward in doing so. Her heart just felt warm and so did mine when I said thank you.

ENTJ: Everyone knows the classic character of a self-righteous doctor in a hospital show. You know that one. The one that everyone thinks may be hard-working and clever, but heartless and uncaring and egocentric, but a few episodes down the line you start to see that there is more going on underneath the rude attitude. I’ve always believed this to be a stereotypical depiction that is more of a caricature until I met her. She was a doctor at a hospital I stayed in, and damn, she was just like that. She stormed into the rooms, rolled her eyes at a patient whose German was bad, even though she had a thick accent herself, couldn’t be bothered to commit to polite standards of communication like saying hello or thanks, and she didn’t care to wait for just a second when a nurse was in her way and pushed her aside instead. Especially two young nurses were exasperated with her and complained about her as soon as she stormed out of the room. They really made me feel like I had gotten myself into a hospital show as a patient, it was fantastic. And I have to say, even though this young doctor had all of these flaws, she was the only one that actually talked to the patients and explained what was going on, hell she even talked to that woman’s daughter on the phone for a few minutes because the woman didn’t understand the language. Just like on tv, she may have been rude, but at least she seemed like a good doctor.

INTP: My university department held a conference and I was responsible for making sure that all these professors and PhD students didn’t die from their coffee cravings, so I spent most of my time running around with giant coffee cans. And I have to admit, among all the scientists that were roaming the halls, I couldn’t help but stare at him. He was a PhD student from the Netherlands and there was just something about him that did not fit in. You know how professors are often a bit eccentric or strange by normal standards (which explains why we had to explain to an unspeakable amount of them how a coffee can works), so you’d imagine he’d fit right in. But he didn’t. He was his own universe. While everyone was networking, he was studying the research posters in silence. Not because he was too shy, he seemed very comfortable in his own skin. He just didn’t seem to care all that much about other people. I got to listen to a few talks and as he sat in front of me, I saw him play a video game. At an international conference. With professors and colleagues sitting behind him. And he still managed to ask intelligent questions about the talk afterwards. No idea how. Part of me wished I could have talked to him, not because he was cute though he was, but rather because I really could not tell you what kind of person he was. Was he a good person? A bad one? Probably something in-between. But I don’t think my opinion would have fazed him all that much, since to me, he seemed like the kind of person that valued his own opinion on himself the most, and I think that’s a good thing that he’s got there.

ENTP: I had just moved to a different city in a completely different part of the country, and I had just gotten back from my first walk around town. Sounds exciting, but I got back to this unfamiliar flat that I was supposed to call home now and I was panicking. So I stepped out on the balcony hoping the cold air and the stars above could calm my nerves. But it wasn‘t them that did. I stood there in the dark and saw an elderly couple in the parking lot. The woman was in a very similar mental state as me. She was running around their car and was talking about all the things they still had to take care of and things they‘d need, but had forgotten, and her voice got higher and shakier with every word. And then her husband just went and hugged her. She kissed him goodbye three times and every time she did, he let out a little laugh, calm and gentle. He pat her on the back and said that everything was going to be okay, that they would see each other again tomorrow. She kissed him goodbye one last time before she drove away, and I stood there alone in the dark and thanked the universe that I was there at the right time to hear this old man‘s words. For some reason he always seems to appear every time I‘m feeling low and strikes up a little chat with me. And every time he leaves, I have already forgotten what I was sad about.

INFJ: I think everyone pursuing an academic career has this one hero, this one scientist that lit the spark in their heart to dedicate their life to science just like them. I know I have one. So when I started an internship at his lab with one of his colleagues, I didn‘t really expect to meet him. I had seen him around once in a while, yes, but who was I to approach a stranger to tell him what his work meant to me? But then came the plenary meeting that was meant to get more people of the lab to get to know one another - and he approached me. He sat down next to me, asked me about my academic past and future, asked about my current project with his colleague. And I still can‘t believe it. Only a little girl singing in the church choir who is suddenly approached by Beyoncé can hope to imagine what it felt like. He was an internationally renowned scientist, he would have had every reason to look down on the rest of us. Many of them certainly do. But here he was, talking to a little intern from abroad. He was such a genuinely nice person, was sweet and slightly awkward, he even mirrored my weird head nodding that I always do when all the words have left me. He felt like a kindred spirit. I didn‘t tell him what these few minutes talking to him meant to me though part of me wishes that I did, yet still he invited me to the meetings of his research team even though I was not a part of it. And when I came and sat down, he turned around, smiled at me and turned away again, and I can‘t tell you how insane it feels that all of this actually happened.

ENFJ: I’ve written about him before and I will write about him forever. I remember the day our eyes first met in that crowded school corridor almost half of my life ago. I don’t know why neither of us could look away that day, why neither of us could ever look away again from this day on. Somehow our eyes always found each other. I remember the snowy day at the train station so many years later, how he stood there alone in the cold and how he slowly walked towards me, his eyes glued to his feet that abruptly stopped right next to mine. And yet he stayed silent. As did I. So we stood there for an hour waiting for our train, quickly averting our eyes every time they came close to meeting. I remember him looking back at me over his shoulder once we got off the train. He seemed quite flustered that I was about to find out that he had parked his car right next to mine and so he fled. Both of us kept parking our cars next to each other, even when we didn’t see each other for months. But I could never follow him out. He was my own personal mystery. I spent countless nights staring at the ceiling wondering what it was, this strange thing that was going on between us, this little secret that we shared, and I wondered who he really was inside, not who he pretended to be in front of his friends. He was like an island in their midst, always a bit detached, always tucked away behind a smile. Soon twelve years will have passed and still we’ve never spoken a word, but somehow these dark brown eyes still feel more familiar than my own, these eyes that always seemed to look right into my soul. I could have stared at them my whole life. I honestly have no idea what it is that is tying me to him, what it is that I felt back then and what I’m feeling right now. Maybe I’ll never know. I haven’t seen him in three years, but I know our paths will cross again some day. I can feel it in my bones. This story is not over yet. Maybe then we’ll finally be ready to meet properly. Maybe then we’ll finally be able to speak.

INFP: I happened to stand at the window when I saw the new postman approach our letterbox, and so I watched him throw letters and magazines inside - and stop. He moved his head closer to the box and a frown appeared on his face. He backed off, wanted to leave, came back again and didn’t seem to know what he was supposed to do. So he rang the doorbell. As I opened the door, there he was, shy and with slight panic in his eyes. “I’m so sorry”, he said. “There is a sign on your letterbox that you don’t want advertisements, but I saw that too late and I had already thrown it in. I’m terribly sorry. I can’t get it out of the box and so I thought, I should ask if that’s alright.” And my heart just went awwww, that’s adorable. I smiled at him and told him that it was absolutely fine. He seemed so relieved. So he went away and I closed the door.

ENFP: This is for the man with the kind, but heartbreakingly sad eyes who sometimes sits in front of the train station silently begging for money. This is for the grandparents who spent their train ride trying to teach their little grandchildren the numbers from one to five. This is for the old woman who always kneels down in the middle of the train station with her forehead pressed to the ground, keeping still for hours, enduring the devastation of thousands of people passing by without stopping. This is for the woman who knelt down next to a homeless man, who took his hand and asked how she could help him. This is for the man who made faces at the little boy sitting next to him on the train to make him laugh. This is for the anger I felt when I saw the distraught face of a 10-year-old boy coming out of the movie „1917“ at the cinema with his father. This is for the happy little puppy who lives next to the bakery where I usually grab my lunch. This is for the twenty people who decided to all speak a foreign language during a meeting with each other just because I was there too, a total stranger they had never even seen before who is bad at their native language. This is for the creep that asked me in the middle of the street at night to accompany him. This is for the two teenagers who went to buy sandwiches and coffee for a homeless woman. This is for the families I often see sitting at the train stations, sometimes with a baby in their arms, holding a sign saying „Syrian family. We are hungry, help us please.“ This is for the man who yelled at his girlfriend because she gave them some money. This is for the people who play music during everyone‘s morning commute on the train. This is for all the people who approached me speaking in French and started to laugh when I apologised for not being very good at it. This is for Paris, in all its beauty and all its ugliness. This is for humanity, in all its beauty and ugliness.

ISTJ: He was sitting alone on the train, looking out of the window while listening to something with headphones. He was a tall guy in his mid-20s, one with a full beard, long brown hair in a neat ponytail, and a t-shirt of some rock band that I had never heard of. So, I was sitting there, three meters away, minding my own business, when I suddenly heard a giggle. The entire car of the train had been quiet all this time as it usually is, so I looked up and saw this guy trying to contain his laughter. He pressed the lips together, scratched his nose in order to inconspicuously cover his mouth. I don’t know where this sudden burst of laughter came from. Maybe he was listening to an audio book and reached a funny part. Maybe he was listening to a voice message of a funny friend. Maybe he just had a very amusing thought, I don’t know. But I’ve always had a soft spot for people who randomly start laughing in public and get embarrassed about it cause it’s always, always adorable.

ESTJ: She was a PhD student at my university and she was the one who mainly organised the conference that the above mentioned INTP was attending, too. And even though she didn‘t get tired of complaining about how much work this all was, how typical it was of her boss to volunteer to hold the conference at our university and then not lifting a single finger, she was like a fish in the water, not out of it. She observed everything and everyone, immediately recognised little problems or things that could become a problem, she was constantly running around checking everything, and she kept so many things in mind, it was impressive. One of the attendees sat in a wheelchair and as soon as she noticed, she made us rebuild the entire cafeteria immediately so that everything was reachable for her. And in all the running around, all the obligatory smalltalk, all the stress, she still found the time to stand with us student helpers and joke around.

ISFJ: It was 6pm on a Friday afternoon when all of Paris was trying to get home in the middle of a train strike, so the trains that did run were even more crowded than usual. I did not enjoy sharing 5 square metres with almost 40 other people. But then he entered the train and stood right next to me, leaning against the doors without moving, looking like an intellectual in gangster clothes. We were surrounded by noise of people talking and of rails screaming, by strangers breathing onto our skin, and he just stood there unfazed by it all. He radiated calmness like I‘ve never seen anyone do before. Soon it reached me too, filled me up and left no place for any distress or anxiety. He was like an island in the storm that grew and grew and grew until all of the 40 people around him were safe. I felt safe. I don‘t think he has even the faintest clue about how special he is, but I feel like it has been a privilege to have crossed paths with him.

ESFJ: Did you ever meet someone who, on first glance, looks like the perfect example of a jock, just a short guy with bigger arms than he’s tall? But then you look again, take a closer look at him and you realise that his face has goodness written all over it. He may be horribly bad at grammar for a linguistics student and he may be a bit too sensitive for his own good, but he never made it a secret of how much of a sweetheart he really is. And in situations like these, when he talks about how emotional he got as a tutor when his student told him about a dying grandfather because he felt responsible for the student’s wellbeing, in situations like these, when he approaches my friend after a class to apologise for his harsh criticism of her presentation and to tell her that he didn’t mean it that way, to which she gets all confused because she didn’t take the slightest offence to anything he has ever said in his entire life and he mumbles that he may have to stop beating himself up about stuff like this, I just want to give him a hug and never let go.

ISTP: I saw her on the metro during rush hour in Paris, and I immediately noticed her to be different. Everyone else always only stares at their phones or into space, everyone else always look like a tired zombie. She was not a zombie. She was leaning against the doors, shaking her leg in the rhythm of the music she was listening to. She was short and skinny, and not even her punk boots could hide that, but there was such a confidence shining out of her, a confidence in who she was that made her look like a giant. She looked like she‘s probably had it rather rough in life, but it didn‘t break her. She rose to the adversity, rose in spite of it all. She seemed to be capable of so many things. Intelligent enough to go into science if she ever wanted to, vicious enough to end someone who ever dared to cross her, warm enough to love deeply and with all her heart if she let it.

ESTP: It was a hot day and far hotter than a September afternoon ever should be. I was stuck in a traffic jam in the city, melting in my car as were so many others, waiting for that red light to finally turn green. And then he came, a young guy in an ugly shirt and with a hat on his head. He started to cross the street, but then stopped right there in the middle. And he started to juggle. In the middle of a traffic jam on a Friday afternoon, he juggled. Just before his green light turned to red, he bowed down to the cars a few times, and then jumped to the sidewalk and left. Thanks, mate, you enigmatic juggling traffic hero.

ISFP: I met him at a wedding. He was a bald man in his 70s with thick horn glasses and probably the most intimidating person I’ve ever met. Not because he was mean, but because he was so confident in himself and so observant. His gaze constantly changed direction. He took everything in that happened around him, he didn’t miss a single thing that was going on, and still he was calm and sure of himself that everyone at our table felt like they had to impress him in some way. Just by looking at him you knew he must have lived an extraordinary life and he really did. He liked talking about himself. He talked about living in the American desert, on a mediterranean island, in a Buddhist monastery, and on a cruise ship. He talked about the smell of the desert at night, about the taste of oranges picked from a tree. He talked about the people he met, about professors and musicians, about cooks and monks. He talked about how much his village loved him. But he also liked listening to others talk about their own lives. It was obvious that he treated life as an experience, as a journey that cannot be planned or imagined, only lived. When we said goodbye, he looked me right in the eye and told me that he thinks it’s great what I’m doing with my life and that he’s looking forward to meeting me again some day. It felt a bit like receiving praise from a deity.

ESFP: He was a nurse in the accident and emergency department at the hospital and the first person to talk to me while I was waiting in front of an examination room. He was only passing by with a colleague, but he stopped the conversation when he saw me and put his hand on my shoulder. “Aw, sugarmouse, what happened to you?”, was the first thing he said to me. You know, if an unknown man in his 50s is coming towards you and calls you “sugarmouse”, you’re usually not exactly happy, but he was just an overwhelmingly non-threatening guy that called all of the nurses and doctors by kitschy nicknames and radiated warmth wherever he went. He had noticed that I was nervous, and so he came to me and tried to gently put my mind at ease and I was really grateful for it.

#writing this took 3 years #nothing happens during a pandemic but all the more important this kind of testimony to these people feels to me #esfj has actually become a friend of mine by now #isfp is part of my family now since it was his brother's and my mother's wedding #and the enfj guy is the same as in the first version of this post that i wrote 5 years ago #i don't know where he is now or what he's doing but i really hope that his life is filled with love and happiness #i just think it's strange that after graduating i never saw 98% of the people i went to school with again #but the two people i did meet again dozens of times? were enfj and his little brother #sometimes it felt like a conspiracy of the universe and we were just too stupid #every time i think about how we had eye contact while driving past each other twice i think i‘m going insane #mbti #myers-briggs #types as #strangers i wish i had known #intj #entj #intp #entp #infj #enfj #infp #enfp #istj #estj #isfj #esfj #istp #estp #isfp #esfp

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crystalas · 3 years

Text

Junk Yard Talks

A continuation of the Demon Bull Divorce AU. I’ve never done anything like this before so if you have any questions or prompts by all means go for it.

Takes place after Hindsight.

MK, Mei and Red Son are scrap hunting in the junk yard for stuff to upgrade the tuk-tuk and truck, they run into a certain pair of demons.

Junk yard talks

Mei had never thought of exploring the city’s Junk Yard because if she needed any parts for her bike, she could always buy them brand new from the shop but according to Red Son it was a treasure trove of finds. For her it was a treasure trove of smells.

“Especially for prototypes and if you’re on a budget!” he had explained giving MK and a side long glance, “For me at least if a prototype blows up then at least I don’t have to worry about costs!”

“So, what are we looking for?” MK demanded as he inspected a rusted-out van.

“I don’t know that’s the beauty of looking!” Red Son exclaimed “You never know when inspiration will hit you!”

“Hopefully inspiration will hit us without us needing tetanus jabs afterwards” Mei muttered as she navigated around some sharp looking scraps and then glared at MK.

“Don’t give me that look it was his turn to choose what we did for the day!” MK whispered back at her. “I thought you’d be into this being a motor head yourself!”

“When he said we were going to be looking at machine parts I thought he meant shopping not dumpster diving!” she hissed back. And Red Son had begun to rummage through what looked to be a car that had been hit a train, MK kept his hands in his pockets as he looked around. It was weirdly giving him an idea to draw a monster made of junk maybe with an old digger spade for a jaw and rusty chains for hair…he took out his little note book he always kept on him when such idea struck him and began to sketch down the parts he wanted to use.

Huh maybe Red Son was right about inspiration hitting you here.

“Monkie Kid!” a voice demanded “It’s your worst nightmare!”

“Yin!”

“Jin!”

“The gold and silver demons!” the two voices sang before mimicking a rock solo, only then did MK look up and saw the two demons glaring at him crossly as they perched on top of nearby junk pile obviously hoping for more of a reaction that dumb confusion.

“Oi mate!” the gold one growled “It’s considered common courtesy to at least look at your demise!”

“Sorry I was in the zone!” MK apologized as he took out his staff to fight.

“Yeah, well you’re being very rude!” Yin declared.

“Barging into our home, not even acknowledging our sweet introduction; downright disrespectful I’d call it!” Jin cried.

“Hey MK did you find anything?” Mei asked and MK waved her off. “Hey weren’t those the guys who tried to run Pigsy out of business?”

“Yeah, I gotta fight them so give me a minute”

“A MINUTE??!” the two demons roared “You got some nerve!”

“Need a hand?”

“Don’t ignore us!” Yin shouted and MK looked up to see the two demons leaping down prepared to fight and MK prepared to do battle.

“What’s going on Noodle boy?” Red Son demanded as he turned a corner just to see everyone in mid fight pause and stare at him before Yin and Jin took a step back.

“Monkie Kid! Not Monkey King!” Yin grumbled and smacked his brother around the head “Told you we should have written that down!”

“Kid, King it’s kinda easy to mix up!”

“Hey are we fighting or what?” MK demanded “You wanted this!”

“Nah we’re good!” Jin exclaimed “Hey Red Boy how are things?”

“Not bad all things considered” Red Son said “How are you two doing? Last I saw you were on TV trying to out cook Pigsy”

“Yeah, to be fair that was one of our more thought out plans we had…” Jin muttered.

“You know these guys?!” Mei demanded reminding the demons of the humans in the group. Red Son turned around to face his friends.

“Oh yeah we go waaaay back!” Jin laughed and patted Red Son on the back.

“We are probably the first demons to start mixing Tech and magic, these two are great to bounce ideas off with. Speaking of which, how did that improved calabash idea go? Did you managed to get pass that whole melting the victim problem?” Red Son asked and MK perked up at that last bit and saw the two metallic demons giving him an interesting look that was a mix of “don’t you dare tell him about that” and “Please don’t tell him about that”.

“Nah it kinda went belly-up we had to go back to the drawing board ya know?” Yin exclaimed and hustled Red Son away from MK in case the Monkie Kid decided to remind the two that the calabash did indeed work and he broke it when they tried to kidnap him with it.

“Pity” Red Son muttered “The idea of having an entire illusionary world that you can carry on you sounded like a fun idea. To be able to recreate places from memories or even create new locations entirely… you could have made it like a vacation spot for demons!”

“That’s a way better idea than using it as a holding cell for our enemies!” Jin moaned out loud to which everyone except MK turned to stare at him confused, Yin just face palmed.

“Anyway, you looking for anything in particular?” Yin interjected before anyone could question that statement Red Son pulled out a blue print.

“I’m looking to improve this, which needs better suspension…” he began and Yin looked at the blueprint nodded sagely, before scanning the junk yard.

“Yeah, I think I saw a quad bike over there, the engine is totally buggared but everything else is good to go!” he exclaimed Red Son grinned and trotted over with Yin leading the way. Jin watched the two go before glancing back at Mei and MK who were still on guard, sword and staff in hand just in case.

“So…how’s Red Boy been lately?” the demon asked quietly.

“Huh?!” Mei spluttered.

“I mean what with the whole divorce thing going on…”

“DIVORCE!?” MK cried out before being shushed by Jin loudly, he shot a look over to where his brother and Red Son had gone. “Sorry…but divorce? Red Son said his parents were going through a rough patch not ending it entirely!”

“That’s not what we heard on the ol’ demon grapevine, DBK going the whole nine yard on it. that’s practically unheard of in our community especially royalty. If you’re a king and you didn’t like your wife you just got a consort or something…”

“What did they say about Red Son?” MK asked concerned.

“Yeah, I heard you guys saying about mixing up Monkie Kid with Monkey King” Mei asked, all three scanned the area in case Red Son was in ear shot before returning to the huddle.

“We were told that until the whole thing was sorted out Red Son now belong to Monkey King’s court, turns out they meant YOUR court” Jin explained.

“Court sounds so uptight and fancy, I prefer the word team…” MK muttered before getting back on the topic. “Wait so why did DBK do that?” he demanded to which Jin just shrugged.

“No clue…” he muttered.

“How come he never told us? Does he even know himself?” Mei wondered but Jin couldn’t answer as Red Son and Yin came back easily dragging a quad bike that looked like someone had tried to drive it through a boulder and failed.

“Hey look these are practically brand new and we can use the fourth as a spare!” he chirped happily.

“Good find mate!” Jin beamed, “Why don’t you guys stay for lunch? We’re having toad in the hole!”

MK and Mei blanched at the idea of eating roasted toads or something and the demon brothers grinned.

“Oh, come on we’ll be having some spotted dick for afters!” he chuckled Mei nearly gagged at the idea and Red Son gave a sigh.

“Relax Toad in the hole is an English dish of sausage in batter, and spotted dick is a steamed current pudding” Yin and Jin gave a groan.

“Spoil our fun why don’t you?” Yin growled.

“You know how to cook English dishes?” MK asked.

“We travelled to London during the whole industrial revolution, very informative on the top-of-the-line tech at the time and what can we say? The accent stuck!” Jin explained “you found it fun too didn’t you Red?”

“You went too?” Mei asked and Red Son crossed his arms and looked annoyed.

“He didn’t stick around like we did, not after the Spring Heel Jack incident” Yin chuckled and playfully punched Red Son’s shoulder who gave a half-hearted growl.

“In my defence it was the one time and that old bat deserved getting her eye brows singed off, ‘filthy savage’ indeed!” he grumbled “all the other spring heeled jack sightings were not me!”

Notes: I love the head canon that Yin, Jin and Red Son hang out and helped each other with their projects. Also, Spring Heel Jack was a Victorian creepy pasta of a being who could breathe fire, leap inhumanly high and vanish in an instant…sound familiar huh?

#red son #LMK Yin #lmk Jin #monkie kid mk #monkie kid red son #monkie kid mei

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bokutoslittlebird · 3 years

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Hey I'm new on your blog but I'm so in love it 😭💕 I wanted to ask if you maybe could pls do a headcanon/ scenario with the shiratorizawa with a actually chaotic,sweet manager who snaps of one day and shows her rlly angry side because somebody was talking shit about (only a example)Tendou for being a monster or making fun of Goshikis hair ? Like they rlly want to protect their boys. I rlly hope it's not to much :(

It’s not too much at all! I hope these are to your liking, I decided to go with a slightly similar example you gave (also: protect Tendō Satori club? This boy needs a hug).

Protective Manager! Shiratorizawa ver.

-> You’re a blessing to these boys. Everyone loves you. Sweet enough to have everyone obsessed, but crazy enough to know you’re real, if that makes sense. As the manager of Shiratorizawa, one of the things Coach Washijō was worried about was if you had ulterior motives. Words were useless unless you could prove yourself, but like how it was with the boys and matches — show to him you’re worthy of being on the team.

-> It took a couple of months, but you proved yourself one day. At first, you were introduced to the club through Kawanishi, your classmate, so you didn’t know much about the third years. When Tendō seemed down one day, you were kind of confused until Kawanishi explained the situation.

-> Some girls were commenting on how attractive the guys of the school were. When Tendō passed by, they had nothing good to say. It hurt your feelings that they’d be so rude to someone, especially with that person right in front of them! You decided to sit down and talk to Tendō, telling him that the opinion of those girls were shallow and selfish, and that he deserved better. With sweet words, you got yourself closer to the third years, especially Tendō, and proved to Coach Washijō you were there for the team.

-> A few months later, it was Shirabu who had a new girlfriend. You didn’t like her very much, she seemed too fake to you, but didn’t say anything. Shirabu seemed happy with her and the team had no objections to her coming to their practice after school. When she showed up with some friends, however, things got complicated. They were distracting the boys and kept making crude comments about them.

-> One of the girls piped up with a question directed at you, however. It startled you, but you let them go on ahead and ask. Her question? “Which boy are you here for?” The nerve! You glared at her and told her you were there for the team, as they needed a manager, but she just rolled her eyes and told you that was unlikely. It took a lot to not snap at her, instead focusing on the practice match.

-> When Tendō successfully blocked the opposing team (it was a three on three, so he blocked Goshiki’s spikes), you cheered for him as he did a dance. That’s when you snapped. The girls started giggling and joked about how low your standards were if you liked Tendō, or as they said, “that one.” That’s what really pissed you off.

“What the hell did you say?” You practically growled at the girl. Her giggling fit stopped as she glared right back. The girl, Hana, happened to be the same girl who said something rude to Tendō a few months ago. How she got with Shirabu, you have no clue. She didn’t answer you, just looking at you. “If you’re not going to shut the fuck up, get out,”

“No, you’re not the boss of me,” scoffing, she flipped her black hair over her shoulder.

“I said get the fuck out of my gym and don’t be disrespecting my boys ever again. You’re so shallow and insensitive, there’s no reason for cheap bitches like you to be here. So get out,”

“Wow, rude much?” Another girl, Haruka, piped up with.

“Oh? Rude? So calling Tendō a slimy swamp monster isn’t rude, but me telling you to leave because you’re disrespectful is? The only slime creatures are you, so I’ll say it again. Leave,”

“Or what?”

You sigh, putting down the clipboard. You’ve already made enough of a scene, the Coach watching with interest what you’ll do. He probably didn’t expect your hands to pick her up by her collar, heaving her off the bench and towards the door. She trips, falling on the floor as you do the same to her friend. Her other two friends leave, running to the door. “Get up and fucking leave, stupid bitch!” You go to grab her collar again, but Ushijima’s arms wrap around you to prevent that. She’s quickly gone, her friends already left. The slamming of the gym door is what finally has you calming down.

Smoothing your skirt, you nod towards Ushijima. “Thank you. Now back to practice!”

Needless to say, everyone in that gym had a high amount of respect for you. And the Coach had some disappointment as he dealt with the consequences of you instigating a fight.

#shiratorizawa x reader #haikyuu x reader #Mr. Wakatoshi #Mr. Satori #Mr. Tsutomu #Mr. Kenjirō #Mr. Taichi #tendou x reader #Shiratorizawa.hcs #BB.Requests

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ghostlywritten · 3 years

Text

If Only I Had Stayed In The Shadows - Chapter Seven

James Potter x OC

Words: 6k

Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six

"Where have you been last night?" Alice asked as I sat down at the breakfast table the next day.

"Eh...with James," I mumbled, stuffing my face with cinnamon rolls as hers, Marlene's and Lily's eyes bulged in shock.

"What?" Marlene exclaimed, dropping her cup, "Already?"

I furrowed my eyebrows, "Yeah?"

She smirked widely, "You little...who would have thought you to be so quick?"

"Quick with what?"

"Letting him pop your cherry of course!" Alice giggled along with Marlene whilst Lily and I went beet red.

"We did not do that!" I protested, shaking my head vehemently.

"Aww, why not?" Marlene pouted into her cup.

"Because I ain't that easy," I retaliated, shooting her a look.

"What? You think I'm easy?" she asked, peeved.

"Well, you do get along with boys very fast," Alice pointed out matter-of-factly whilst Lily nodded next to her. Marlene grumbled under her breath, "Can you blame me when they basically throw themselves on me?" She flipped her hair and I smiled at Alice's giggling.

"How was your dinner with Potter then?" Lily asked suddenly, keeping her eyes on her porridge with intent.

"Quite nice, actually," I replied, my smile widening as I remembered last night, "We talked about a lot of things until it got way too late."

"Boring!" Marlene commented, causing the red head next to her to snicker. "Is that everything?" Lily asked amused and I raised my eyebrows in confusion, "Have you at least kissed or something?"

"Well, no. I didn't want to," I defended myself.

"Oh please, who doesn't want to snog him or the Marauders in general?" Marlene rolled her eyes, "Except for Lily perhaps." Said person's smile dropped an inch before she composed herself. "Exactly. Seems like he is not that into you, after all." I tried not to frown at her words but that stung quite a lot. So what if we hadn't kissed? Was that even normal on a first date? In fact, I hadn't even known it was a date until the end. I couldn't help but feel insecure now, keeping quiet as Lily awaited my answer. Guilt slowly spread on her face when she noted the hurt I was trying to hide.

"When is your second date then?" Alice asked, breaking the sudden silence between us after she shot a knowing look at her green-eyed friend.

"Not sure," I shrugged, rolling my breakfast around on my plate. I didn't feel like talking about it anymore so I changed the topic, "Marlene, what's up with you and my worst enemy?"

"Oh Adrian!" Marlene immediately perked up and started chatting about her shenanigens, successfully giving me a reason to not talk anymore until breakfast was over and we left for class.

"...and he can be surprisingly sweet. Like that one time we were alone and I was so frustrated because McGonagall scolded me again for not getting a spell right...," Marlene kept blabbering whilst we sat down for History of Magic and I almost regretted opening that Pandora Box of a mouth - just kidding - as she gushed about the boy I resented deeply...on the Quidditch pitch. Outside of it we simply ignored each other, really. I sighed, thinking about how I actually had to get along with him after Christmas when he became a part of Team A.

"Alright there, Cec?" James plopped down on the free seat next to me and I blinked. Glancing back, I noticed Sirius settling next to Remus and Peter sitting beside some Ravenclaw bloke. Weird.

"You're not sitting with Sirius?" I asked in surprise.

"Now, why would I want that when I could sit next to you?" he asked with a grin but raised his eyebrows at the squeals emitting from Marlene and Alice in front of us.

"Cheesy," I commented, trying to regain control of my racing heart.

"Only for you," he winked. What a liar. I knew for a fact that he had always been cheesy. Especially when it came to a certain red head, who right now kept glimpsing over her shoulder at us. Her words from breakfast earlier caught up to me and I wondered once again about our 'boring' first date. I had not even for a second thought about our night that way but what if he did?

Shooting a look at the handsome boy next to me mindlessly chatting about some prank he was preparing whilst taking out his stuff I tried to detect any sign of boredom on his features. He was gesturing animatedly with his hands, which caused him to take longer than necessary to get his books out. It appeared like he was having fun. His brown eyes were sparkling even in the dim light of Professor Binn's classroom and I noticed the golden undertones in his rich-coloured irises. In fact, there were a lot of things I was suddenly noticing in that moment; How his glasses kept slipping due to his excited movements, forcing him to nudge them back up on the bridge of his slightly pointed nose, how his dimples popped up from time to time, accentuating his boyish features in an adorable way and how he ran a hand through his thick hair...every five seconds.

"Oi, Cec. Are you even listening?" the boy in my thoughts complained as he flicked my forehead.

"Ouch, yes I am," I said, rubbing the sore spot. Thank Merlin, he snapped me out of it though, I was getting near obsessed with the analysis of his features.

"Seems more like you were obsessed with my looks," James said with a wolfish grin and I did everything in my power to keep myself from turning into a tomato.

"What? I wasn't!" I almost shrieked, busying myself with my stuff erratically, "You just have a booger on your face, that's all."

"Sure, Cec," he replied offhandedly but I grinned as he tried to inconspiculously rub his nose. "So, I was thinking that the Hogsmeade trip next weekend could be our second date," James suggested and by now I was a master in controlling my spit to stop myself from choking on it whenever he randomly decided to make my heart burst.

'But that meant that he did enjoy our first date, right?' I thought, feeling slightly hopeful as I opened my mouth to agree.

"Hell no," Marlene made a sliding tackle, turning around in her seat, "She can't." I shot her an incredulous look whilst Alice kicked her under table.

"Why not?" James asked, as clueless as we all. Though he looked so cute being clue- Merlin, I was whipped.

"Hogsmeade is a traditional girls' trip," Marlene said matter-of-factly, "You don't want to break a three-year long tradition, James. Trust me."

"I guess not...," he trailed off, probably weirded off by the threatening looks Alice and I were shooting at the brown-haired beauty, "Well, some other time then, Cec."

"Sure," Marlene answered for me again and I was almost speechless.

"What the hell was that?" I immediately bombared her as soon as class ended and I saw the last of James' and his mates' heads leaving for lunch.

"Yeah, what did you do that for?" Alice wondered, "Why would you prevent a second date?"

"Yes, why?!" I asked almost hysterically, "That's probably the only boy in this school, who would be interested in a second date with me," I started slapping her arm with each word, " and...you...rejected...him...because...of...a...tradition-"

"Ouch! Merlin, stop!" Marlene backed away from me, hiding behind Alice.

"-that doesn't even exist!"

"Excuse me, the Hogsmeade trips were always our thing," Marlene pointed out.

"Yeah, as long as you didn't have a date!"

"Irrelevant details," she waved off and I wished I could say her blatant disregard of her hypocrisy would be a new thing, "Besides, I was doing you a favour."

"A favour?" I furrowed my eyebrows, "How does scaring an interested boy away doing me a favour?"

"You are being too easy on him," Marlene said and I could feel the beginning of one of her dating lectures, "You have to make a boy work for you, Cec. Make him prove he is worth your time before you give in. That's what keeps them interested in you. They like a good chase but you were just going to hand yourself in for the next date at the first try."

"You have a great way of making me feel like a slut," I commented dryly.

"You are welcome," she grinned back.

"I wasn't being sirius," I almost groaned, resisting the urge to slap her again. I was being unusually violent these days, "So what if they like a good chase? I've been chasing boys in my dreams for years and quite frankly I'm just glad someone as nice as James wants to go out with me again."

"Nice? James?" Lily snorted, speaking up for the first time since class, "He's rude. And mean. Just look at all the pranks he pesters people with."

"He's just joking," I said, though it was only half-heartedly. I knew he was just joking but even I had to admit through my 'lovesick' eyes that his pranks could be quite cruel. Lily just scoffed, probably having read my mind. With her skills I wouldn't put it past her if she had already managed Legilimency.

"James is the textbook example of boys chasing girls," Marlene continued as if our side-conversation didn't even happen, "Look at how long he chased Lily for without rest-"

"Yeah, and then he gave up," I pointed out, watching the red head shift inbetween her steps.

"-I know, but the point is. He chased her for years! He likes this game." Marlene placed a hand on my shoulder, "I'm telling you; let him chase you a little. Not for too long obviously, but enough to keep him on his toes."

I tried to dismiss her words as crazy but in some kind of twisted way it made sense. And she was more experienced and especially more successful in terms of boys than I ever would. Who was I to argue against her?

"That's the most ridiculous-" Alice started but I cut her off.

"What do I do?" she gave me a shocked look whilst Marlene grinned thriumphantly. Throwing an arm over my shoulder, she started leading me towards the Great Hall for lunch.

"Alright, the first step is called 'Ignoring Him'," Marlene started, walking into the Hall, where the students were busy shoveling their mouths with food and chatting about nonesense, "You don't want to appear as desperate as you have this whole time-"

"I wasn't being desperate," I said indignantly.

"But you were easy," she countered, "Always immediately responding to him. Going on a first date without even a little resistance. Staring at him like a puppy-"

"Okay, okay," I relented before throwing her a look, "I should probably feel creeped out with your stalking."

"But you don't because everyone does a little bit of stalking," Marlene remarked and I had to agree...internally, "Luckily for you, I planted the first step by preventing that second date you wanted to immediately agree on," she gave me a reprimanding look my mother would be proud of, "Now, what you have to do is this: Whenever he tries to initiate any kind of contact, you give him your most disinterested glance that lasts precisely 1,5 seconds and give him the shortest amount of words in only one sentence that you can manage."

I let her words sink in, "Siriusly? 1,5 seconds?"

"I've never been more sirius in my life," Marlene said siriusly and I was strangely convinced.

"Trust me, it works," she said as we walked along the Gryffindor table and I noticed we were nearing the Marauders.

"If you say so...," I muttered, wondering how to do that as James looked up with a grin, turning slightly in his seat.

"Hey, Cec. Do you want to sit-" he started.

"What's up, James?" I waved at him without looking as we passed by to settle a few seats away.

"Oi, that was not bad for a beginner," Marlene praised impressed as we sat down and I almost didn't feel ashamed at the pride that filled me at her words. "Now, don't even dare glance at him once. I will count how many times he looks over."

"Alright." To say, lunch was torture was an understatement. Who knew it could be so hard to not look at someone when you were precisely forbidden to. Human nature; always craving the forbidden. It was natural to say I heaved a huge sigh of relief after it was over.

"Fifteen times!" Marlene squealed as we left, heading towards Herbology, "He was staring almost constantly."

"It actually worked?" I asked in surprise and even Alice nodded.

"Yeah, he seemed pretty confused," she commented and his adorably clueless face from earlier flashed through my mind. I sighed blissfully.

"Of course it worked!" Marlened boasted, tugging my arm into hers, "Girl, I'm gonna make you irresistable."

"Where have you been my whole life?" I asked and we giggled, causing Alice and Lily to shake their heads at us with small smiles.

December came and the first half of the month passed by in a blur of Quidditch, Hogsmeade, avoiding James for fun and dreading the upcoming break. I had yet not received a single letter from my parents as expected but now that the day of my doom was heading closer, I was starting to regret the Gryffindor bravery in me that had decided to write them in the first place, happy that the school would be protecting me from their wrath for at least a few weeks.

"Come on, they can't be too angry," Lily reassured, watching me pace around the dorm. Marlene had started packing a bit of her stuff before bed, which once again reminded me of the school break and I had started to walk around nervously, "It's not like it's your fault that Madam Pomfrey won't take any interns."

"You don't know my parents, Lils," I replied, my voice wavering, "They will find some way to blame me for it." She gave me a pitying look over the book she was reading on her bed.

"But you know that you are not at fault," Alice tried this time as she braided her hair, "That's what counts."

"I don't know, maybe I should have tried harder," I mumbled even though it would have been pointless anyways.

"You bribed her with Honeydukes," Marlene pointed out as a row of clothes were magically folded into her bag. I always wondered why she needed that many clothes if she probably had ten times more at home. "If that didn't work, nothing will."

"I guess, you are right," I sighed, plopping down on my bed and burying my face in my pillow, "I wish I could just stay at Hogwarts."

"Don't say that," Lily reprimanded me, "You should be happy, you have a family to go home to." Her voice softened slightly, "Not everyone does anymore." It went silent as we all let her words sink in. We knew what she was hinting at; people were missing, the newspapers were filled with deaths and strange marks on the night sky. The world outside of school was becoming darker and gloomier, our hearts growing heavy each time the owls flew down from the ceiling of the sky and a student once again ran out of the hall in tears.

No one wanted to talk about it, refusing to let it take over our minds but...we were all scared. Deep down, the fear for our family and loved ones was planted in us ever since we were old enough to know that the word 'War' was not just something you read in books and in past tense. It had been in our presence before we had even started school, a Dark Lord rising up from the shadows.

"I think, I'm gonna head out for a bit," I broke silence, the room suddenly stuffy and lacking air.

"Where are you going? It's past curfew," Lily wondered softly, still in her own mind. She had a lot to worry about, her parents being part of the main targets; Muggles. My heart squeezed harshly at the fear that she couldn't quite mask in her green eyes as she usually did and I wished I knew what to say to help her.

Smiling faintly, I picked up a book, "Just to the Common Room for some reading. You girls go to sleep." They bid me 'good nights' and I waited for them to settle in their sheets before I waved my wand to dim the candles.

The Common Room was empty as usual around this time and I settled down in front of the fireplace, opening the book on my lap. Sighing quietly, I tried to ignore the heavy feeling in my chest as I dove into the story, letting my mind focus solely on it to escape reality for at least a little while.

An hour must have passed before the portrait of the Fat Lady swung to the side, light shedding from the hole. But no one came in. Puzzled, I stared at the hole until I heard the slight padding of several feet, causing my eyes to widen in panic. 'What the hell?'

Suddenly James' head appeared out of thin air and I bit my lip just in time to prevent an ear-piercing scream. "J-James? Wha-"

"Hey Cec," he greeted me sheepishly, Sirius head popping up from behind him and this time I did yelp a little.

"You alright there, Grant?" he asked with a grin as if it was normal to stand around with just a head and the rest of his body missing.

"Can we get out now?" Peter's muffled voice reached my ears.

"Oh, yeah. Sure." James threw off what seemed to be a cloak, revealing three of the four Marauders.

"Uff, finally," Peter breathed out a sigh of relief, "I swear it gets more and more stuffy every time we get under it."

"It's because, your stomach gets wider and wider," Sirius teased, prodding his belly, "Relationships make you lazy, Wormtail."

"Do not," he pouted, causing the taller one to ruffle his hair.

"Come on, let's head to bed," the dark-haired handsome boy announced with a yawn, stretching around comfortably as if it nothing out of ordinary had happened.

"Right, good night, Grant." Peter waved at me, Sirius echoing him as they passed by.

"You guys go ahead," James called after them, his friends waving him off as if they had already known.

"Care to tell me what just happened?" I asked, momentarily forgetting that I was supposed to ignore him.

"Oh, Cec. You should know of our nightly adventures by now," James said off-handedly.

"Not that," I rolled my eyes, pointing at the shimmering cloth in his hand, "I mean that."

"Oh this?" He held the cloth up, light reflecting from it slightly. I wouldn't know how to explain it but that cloth practically oozed magic, "This is an Invisibility Cloak."

"You...have an Invisibility Cloak?" I asked incredulously, eyes shining wide.

"Sure, I do," he said proudly as he came closer, plopping down on the couch next to me. He raised his arm, "You wanna try?"

"Hell yes!" I immediately snatched the cloak from his hands, standing up to dive under it, "Can you see me? Can you see me?"

"Obviously not," James chuckled, squinting in the direction he presumed me to be. I was glad I was only wearing socks as I slowly moved to his other side. "Boo!"

"Woah!" he yelped, jumping an inch as he whirled his head around, a hand on his heart, "Bloody hell, woman!"

I snickered, letting the cloak fall from my head. "This is so crazy!" I remarked as I looked down at my nonexistent body, "No wonder, it's so easy for you to sneak away from any trouble."

"Hey now," James said offended, "It takes a lot of skill to keep quiet under that cloak. Especially if three others are under it with you."

"How does that even work?" I wondered, spreading my arms to test the length of the piece of cloth, "It looks too small for you alone, already."

"Yeah, to be honest our growth spurt has been an issue for a while now," James stated, puffing his chest as he felt his biceps, "Can't help the muscles."

I rolled my eyes. "Sure."

James giggled, his manliness dissovling into nothing and I grinned at his cuteness. "It still works for now." He lifted the hem of the cloak and draped it over himself. My breath hitched at the sudden proximity, his chest only inches away from my face. I had to crane my neck to look up at his only to see him stare down at me with his hazelnut brown eyes, the cloak dimming the lights outside. Sweat was forming in my palms and I hoped he couldn't hear my pounding heart.

"See, you and I fit in here, too," he said softly and I imagined his hand brushing against mine ever so slightly, "We could go anywhere we want now..."

"To the kitchens," I suggested, slightly breathless.

He chuckled quietly and my heart sang in joy at the sound, "Or the Quidditch Pitch."

My eyes lightened up at the suggestion. I had never flown around the pitch in the night. Or over the Black Sea or around the towers of Hogwarts. Just imagining the cool air and the darkness of the night with merely the moon illuminating the world made me sigh blissfully.

"Or Hogsmeade if we need to go to Honeydukes," I thought out loud before I gasped in realisation, "That's how you always got the sweets before the first trip!"

"Busted," James grinned, feeling a sense of pride at the admiring look on my face.

"That's so exciting...," I commented quietly, a smile on my face as I grasped the cloak between my thumb and index finger, feeling the satin touch, "All the awesome things you can do with this."

"You haven't even heard half of it," James remarked with a sly grin before his features softened, the warmth pooling from his eyes, "...We can do all of that together...if you want."

It took me second to detect the slight hint of insecurity in his face as he nervously awaited my answer. Biting my lip to keep myself from grinning too wide I squealed internally. This was probably the first time he kind of asked me out for real instead of just swiping me off to a date as if it were obvious I would say yes.

I wondered if I should decline this time as well like my inner-Marlene was screaming at me to do but one glance at his hopeful eyes made me nod almost eagerly. He rewarded me with a wide smile, his eyes crinkling slightly in excitement. "Shall we go catch up on our Hogsmeade date, then?"

My eyebrows rose, feeling slightly unsure. It was in the middle of the night after all and I had never snuck out of the castle before. "Eh...should we, really? It's late and-"

"Come on, Cec," James soothed and this time I knew I wasn't imagining the brush of our hands as he slightly cupped his around mine, his thumb stroking the back of my hand, "I've done this a thousand times already and never got caught. You can trust me."

I gave in, figuring we wouldn't get caught as long as we stayed under the cloak. "Where could we even go? Everything should be closed by now."

"The Three Broomsticks are always open," James responded as he led me out of the Common Room. I shivered slightly in my pyjamas but welcomed the fresh air in the hallways, the wide open windows letting in a cool breeze from time to time. My heart skipped a beat once again as James draped his arm around me, keeping me close for some warmth.

"Have you forgotten you are a wizard again?" I asked teasingly, pointing at his wand. I knew he could easily cast a Heating Charm. I would have done it myself but my wand was on my nightstand. Come to think of it, it was probably not so smart to walk around without a wand but in my defense I had no idea I would wander around the castle at this time.

"I haven't," James replied easily as he led us down a set of staircases, "But maybe I just want to get closer to you." I blushed deeply. "Especially after it's been so long since you were this accepting of me."

"I do not know what you speak of," I said ignorantly, though I felt nervousness built up in me. Marlene had not told me yet what I should answer if I were to be directly confronted about me playing hard-to-get.

"You've been ignoring me," James stated indifferently but I noticed his jaw clenching as he fiddled around with his wand.

"Not true," I mumbled, quickly changing the subject, "What are we doing on the fourth floor?"

James narrowed his eyes slightly and I knew he would only let me off the hook for now, "There is a mirror at the end of the hallway."

"So?" I pressed as we reached said object, startled slightly that I couldn't see myself in it due to the cloak. 'And here I was hoping to check my appearance,' I thought to myself, brushing a hand through my tangled hair strands, 'Marlene would kill me if she saw me right now.'

"This little mirror hides a way that has led us to a lot of adventures already," James announced gravely as he flicked his wand, causing the mirror to swing to the side and reveal a dark hole in the wall. I raised my eyebrows in surprise, "Does this-"

"Lead us to Hogsmeade? Yes," James confirmed, ducking out of the cloak and casting a silent 'Lumos'. He squinted in my direction before he pulled off the piece of cloth from my head, smiling. "Keep it on, it's gonna keep you warm." And with that he climbed up the secret passageway.

"You could still cast a Heating Charm," I said into the hole before I climbed it up as well, slightly weirded out by my visible hands with my invisible arms. James waited for me, already a couple of feet ahead. I looked back at the mirror. "What about the entrance? One of the Prefects might se- nevermind," I mumbled as he shut it with a swish of his wand.

"When did you learn to cast nonverbal spells?" I asked in wonder as we trudged through the way.

"What can I say? I'm just naturally talented at everything," James boasted unashamedly and I rolled my eyes at the over-confidence oozing from his every pore.

"Alright, Mr. Superwizard," I relented, "Where is this passage leading to exactly?"

"We are underground right now. The passageway will lead us out through a gully near the Three Broomsticks."

"We are going through a sewer tunnel?" I asked, looking down at my socks, "You do realise I don't even have shoes on."

"You do realise I'm a wizard, right?" James retaliated with a grin over his shoulder.

"That's questionable sometimes," I muttered, glad it was dark in the tunnel as my cheeks felt on fire. Finally, after about ten minutes of walking and occasionally dipping into the wastewater (disgusting) James directed the light of his wand towards a ladder. Climbing it up, I was greeted by the sight of snow, wind and the small huts in Hogsmeade.

"Wicked," I breathed, taking James' outstretched hand as he helped me up and took the cloak from me to reveal the rest of myself. I immediately started shivering violently, realising how warm the cloak must have kept me. James took off his robe this time, draping it around my shoulders. "You gonna look dumb to people when you walk around here in pyjamas," he explained before casting a Heating Charm.

I shot him a look, "Who was the one suggesting this out of nowhere?"

"Who was the one agreeing on this?" he asked back as he rolled his Invisibility Cloak into a ball and tugged it under his arm, "Now, come on. Let's get some Butterbeer."

I breathed a sigh of relief as soon as we entered the pub, the wind finally ceasing to smash my hair into my face every five seconds. One glance around showed me how empty this place could be in comparison to Hogsmeade weekends where you could hardly find one empty chair.

"James Potter," Madam Rosmerta, the owner of the pub, greeted us from behind the bar where she was doing some cleaning, "What on Merlin's grave are you doing here again at this time?"

"Madam Rosmerta," James greeted chivalrously as he led us over to her, "Just taking out my future girlfriend for the best Butterbeer worldwide."

"Future girlfriend?" I questioned with a raised eyebrow, trying not to blush at his wink.

"Best Butterbeer worldwide? Well, aren't you a charmer?" Madam Rosmerta commented, shooting a grin towards me as well, "Almost as bad as your other friend. Black, was it?"

"Sirius, yes," James laughed.

The woman shook her head as she took out two pewter tankards to fill them with her infamous butterbeer, "Over-confident, little boy. Too handsome for his own good."

"Sounds like him," I remarked, causing her lips to twitch in amusement.

"Oi that's my best friend you are talking about," James complained as he paid - to my embarrassment - for both of us since I had no money on me. He took the tankards with a thanks before turning to me again, "But you are right." I giggled at his statement before we went to take a seat at the windows, Madam Rosmerta shouting a "If you get caught, I had no idea you were here!" after us.

Settling down, I cupped my tankard with my hands as I glanced at the boy in front of me, suddenly nervous. It had been a while since we had been alone, I was almost not used to it anymore. But James being James knew exactly how to break the silence as he started chatting about how he found out about this passageway and the way he had managed to convince Madam Rosmerta to let them occasionally take a drink here with his friends.

He had begged.

"So, enough about that," he eventually ended though despite his constant talking I had a feeling I could listen to him forever. He had a way with his words and the excitement in his voice that could keep anyone interested in what he had to say. It was an admiring trait actually. I probably sounded like Professor Binn's whenever I talked. "Tell me what's been keeping you so busy that you actually dared to ignore me for so long?" he asked with a teasing tilt in his voice to indicate he wasn't being sirius.

I had a feeling he would confront me about it again, but I had hoped he wouldn't tonight. "Eh, you know. School stuff," I muttered, taking a sip of my drink to prolong my answer. When he still waited for more, I got a little defensive of my lie, "You know, some people have to actually study for their grades."

"Oh please," he waved me off, "You could pass every class with your eyes closed. You are just too scared."

"What makes you say that?" I asked with furrowed eyebrows.

James gave me a look, "Everyone knows you are smart, Cec. Everyone but you," he poked my forehead with a soft smile, "You just get crazy about exams. Like Evans."

I thought back on all the study sessions Lily and I had at the library or the Common Room right before the exams, frantically trying to get everything into our heads. "I guess..."

"It's not like you need to start this early. So, will you just stop studying too much and spend time with me again?" James asked, giving me his puppy look. I resisted the urge to immediately say yes, thinking back on what Marlene had taught me.

"Well..."

"Exams aren't due until a few months. Why would you need to study already?" he almost whined and I cringed at my own lie. Too be honest, I hadn't started studying outside of class besides the assignements we had to do. I was surprised he had actually believed that but then again, I had been spending a lot of time snoozing in the library to escape the onslaught of rumours.

"I guess, I can skip a few study sessions," I feigned a thoughtful look and he beamed, "Or you could just study with me." He deflated.

"Studying is boring though."

I was just glad he thought so, too.

"Not if we make it fun," I pointed out and he gave me a sour look, "You sound like Professor Flitwick," he stated, causing both of us to laugh. We spent the rest of the night talking and catching up on each other's life. We talked about the most irrelevant nonesense but also what had been going on outside of Hogwarts. He stated that his parents were both purebloods but he was still worried they were in danger because they refused to support the Dark Lord. My parents were both magical as well but my mother was Muggleborn, which made me worry for her safety even though she was mostly at work and St. Mungo's could be considered almost as safe as Hogwarts. We ended up trying to reassure the other and I was surprised how good he was at it, filling my heart with ease during the time we spent together as he switched back to a more lighter topic.

I realised how much I had missed these casual nights together and him...I had especially missed him. A lot. It was crazy how much a few months with him made me want to be around him all the time. I had been able to stay away the few weeks due to the exciting imagination of him chasing after me but now that I noticed what I had been missing this whole time I could curse myself for declining him everytime he suggested to hang out or do something together. In a way, what Marlene had taught me had worked against me; now, I was craving his presence more than ever.

"This was great," James sighed, stretching his arms over his head in content as we walked down a hallway to the entrance of the Gryffindor Tower, daringly without a cloak. It was almost 7 am, the others would be starting to wake up. I couldn't believe we had managed to stay up a whole night simply talking.

"Yeah," I agreed, smiling at him as we went through the portrait hole and stopping in front of it. The Common Room was still empty, the fireplace burning with new vigor. The woods must have been replaced sometime over night. I wondered briefly if the Elves were also responsible for that.

"I missed this. Let's do this again...sooner?" James asked almost insecurely and I nodded immediately this time, not wanting to play Marlene's way again. This night showed me that I had just been miserable the past weeks without him.

Looking up at him I opened my mouth to bid him goodnight but his intent gaze made me shut it back tonelessly. His eyes were burning with new vigor just like the fireplace, hazel eyes flickering with gold as he glanced slightly over my shoulder before he drew close, closer than under the Invisibilty Cloak and took my hands in his. I stook stockstill as he leaned down, his forehead grazing mine. "Can I kiss you?" he whispered and hadn't I been so close I probably wouldn't have heard him.

My throat went dry and I barely managed a nod before he placed his lips on mine, blissfully unaware of a pair of green eyes.

Chapter Eight

#james potter x oc #james potter x reader #harry potter imagine #marauders imagine #james potter imagine #james potter fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #marauders #marauders fic #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #Lily Evans #marlene mckinnon #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction

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wreckofawriter · 4 years

Text

Best Not To Cry Over Spilled Milk

Pairing: James Potter x Sirius' twin!reader

Warnings: A shit ton of angst, a little swearing

Word Count: 3,779

Request: @rini-scallison: May I request something? If I may I would like to request something like not so perfect sister but instead it’s with Sirius as the brother (a twin if you may) and the reader is like the perfect daughter and Sirius hates her but she tries really hard for him to have a happy life and there’s a bunch of angst and stuff ! You can add a romance in there if you would like too ! Thank you!

A/n: Okay sooo I'm not sure if this is exscatly what the request was but it's how I interpreted it, I really like it at least, I hope you guys do to. I'm hoping to bang out my last few requests, I'm quarantined till April 12th sooo... (stay safe everyone, love you all <3)

Sirius liked to believe he was a pleasant person. At least for the most part, and considering his background, he thought he did pretty good. He may not have been an angel but he had good friends, he helped those around him and unless your name was Severus, he was usually kind. Usually. Unfortunatly there were two people in this world that could break his carefully crafted exterior in a matter of seconds. They both shared his name.

The first was his mother, someone who in all honesty he saw as less of a human and more of a grotesque creature from a child’s nightmare. In his mind, her black heels were replaced by sharp talons. Her long fingernails were claws of obsidian and her dark eyes had the ability to turn you to stone. She had spent her time in Sirius’ life diminishing him to nothing more than a clone of her terror as he tried to make himself anything but.

The second was a success story. The clone of his mother’s terror. His beloved twin, y/n Black or as many had taken to calling her recently; the Slytherin Queen. And boy was she. She followed every order dispatched to her, obeyed every demand, bowed before the monster that had raised her. She had kept on her blindfold her mother had placed on her the minute she had entered the world. Maybe it only took the twelve minutes which y/n had emerged before Sirius for her to fall under a spell which even the youngest black had started to break from.

Sirius was never sure what happened to you. You always sat with your back straight at the dinner table. You never complained about the corset which was always sinched too tight, you would just let your vision go dark from the lack of oxygen. And it completely infuriated him.

Sirius really wished he hadn’t cared when he had gotten the letter. He really wished he had thrown a party and done something stupid like set off fireworks in the common room. But he hadn’t. He had instead demolished an entire bottle of fire whiskey crying because, fuck it hurt to be tossed aside by the people who were supposed to love you most. The next morning he dragged you into an empty classroom hungover and still smelling of liquor and asked you what he fuck had happened.

You had told him you begged your mother not to, you told a sob story about a sad little argument in which you- the obvious victim -had fought for his place on the banner in your living room.

The truth had been very different, his mother had exposed the fact that it was indeed your idea to kick him from the family, that you were convinced he was a disgrace, nothing more than a bug to squash under your boot. He wished he could believe you not his monster. But he knew you. He knew you so goddamn well. You were his twin. His other half. He saw the way your eyes darted away from his own, you shifted on your feet, how you bit the inside of your cheek. You had lied. You had lied to him and he would never forgive you for it.

“And what is the M.O.M classification of the Phoenix?” Merrythought asked. Your hand shot in the air. “Ms. Black?”

“An XXXX professor, although it did not earn this rating from its aggression but only because so few wizards have been able to domesticate it.” You explained and Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Correct Ms. Black, five points to Slytherin.” The teacher praised, you beamed still sitting straight as a board.

Sirius let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like the words ‘Kiss ass’ earning a few giggles from the surrounding students.

You pretended you didn’t hear him, hand tightening around your quill.

James watched as your knuckles went white, How did your brother still bother you? He wondered.

Sirius leaned back in the chair next to him mumbling something unnecessarily rude. James fought the urge to roll his eyes. When class was dismissed Sirius made a point to pass you as you packed up.

“You’ll make an excellent death eater sis.” He taunted and you paused for a moment but refused to comment.

Sirius left the classroom James followed risking a glance over this shoulder to see you being joined by a blonde boy and the Lestrange sisters. Sirius caught him looking and sneered, “A bunch of future murders. Fuckin’ assholes.”

“You know you could give her a rest, you haven’t even spoken in like a year,” James suggested.

Sirius scoffed, “And who’s fault is that?”

James shrugged, knowing the awnser.

“You know she’s ghosting Reg too?” Sirius glowered, “He always looked up to her too, I have no clue why, but he did. And now she won’t even talk to him.”

Remus and Peter joined the pair as they made their way into the Grand Hall.

“Talking about y/n?” Remus inferred.

“Hard not to when she’s such a bitch.”

James cringed at his friend’s choice of words. “I’m hungry, let's get some food.” He spoke attempting to change the topic.

“Why else would be in here?” Remus laughed.

James cracked a smile opening his mouth to speak but was cut off.

“Oh shit.” Sirius cussed.

“What did you do?” Remus sighed, rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t do anything but can you get me food and meet me in the common room, I may or may not be avoiding Marleen,” Sirius spoke ducking behind James.

“Sure, just get out of here, I really don’t want to hear her voice right now.” Peter cringed at the memory of being yelled at by the sharp toned girl.

“I’ll get food, you guys ditch,” James suggested. The other three agreed to leave the hall as the fourth grabbed four plates filling each and flicking his wand causing them to float in the air surrounding him.

James then made his way from the hall. As he turned out of the door he ran straight into someone, stumbling backward a bit he straightened his gaze to see you, your group of what he supposed were friends sneered at him.

“You guys go on, I’ll catch up.” You spoke, voice monotone.

They silently agreed, leaving you with the curly-haired boy who now pushed his glasses nervously up his nose.

“Hey Potter, I need to talk to you.” James would never admit he was scared of you but he did feel his heart leap to his throat at your words.

“What’s up?” He asked hoping you didn’t catch as the sentence wavered slightly.

You bit your lip glancing down at your feet before looking up to meet his gaze. “I wanted to thank you.”

That is not what he expected you to ask.

“I can’t even begin to say how relieved I am that you took Sirius in. Please thank your parents for me as well.” You seemed almost nervous, “I actually have something for you.”

James could not believe that the words you were saying were actually coming out of your mouth. He had expected you to cuss at him, call him a blood traitor amongst other names and then follow your friends into the hall. But you were thanking him instead.

You rummaged in your bag before removing a red box about the size of a wide bookmark. You held it out to the boy.

James stared at you half expecting you to break out laughing and reveal the joke.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You mumbled shoving the gift at his chest.

“Sorry.” James murmured opening the box eyes widening. Inside was a watch, a damn nice one. It looked to be at least plated with gold, if not solid. Its inside was a scarlet red with three different faces, one of which instead of showing roman numerals around the edge showed the phases of the moon. The strap was a reddish leather, clasp gold as well.

“Here, watch this.” You spoke stepping closer and carefully removing the watch from its velvet cushion. You held it delicately, pressing an almost invisible button on the side. In a flash two delicate golden wings erupted from the sides of the device and James realized in fascination that the watch now appeared to look like a snitch, you paid no mind flipping it over to reveal a small square gap on the back. “It’s enchanted with an undetectable extension charm so you can put just about anything in it.” You explained clicking the small button again.

James watched in marvel as the wings fluttered closed closing the gap seamlessly. “This is amazing y/n,” He whispered looking up at you only to realize you were centimeters away. He could feel your breath fan over his cheeks. It was cold and minty.

“It’s nothing compared to what you’ve done for me.” You reasoned sliding the watch back into its case and stepping backward. “And before you say you can’t accept it remember that I have plenty of money.”

Those were going to be the next words out of his mouth.

“I have one more thing to ask you, James.” You seemed really nervous now, you hoisted the strap of your bag back up over your shoulder. “How’s Sirius? Is he okay?”

You had baffled him once again.

“I know I should be asking him that but ever since last year he would sooner light me on fire than have a civil conversation with me.” You sighed.

The Chaser stared at you, this is not how he thought your conversation would go.

“So is he okay?” You asked again, almost urgently.

“Yeah, he’s fine.” James assured you, “He’s a little moody but overall he’s good.”

“Have his panic attacks stopped?” You questioned.

James who had no clue he even got those nodded, “I think so.”

“Mental breakdowns?”

James ran his hands through his hair, “He gets them every once and awhile, Moony and I help him through though.”

You gave a weak smile and stepped forward wrapping your arms around his neck, placing your forehead on his chest. James froze, slowly letting his arms hold your waist, “I honestly can’t thank you enough. You’re a godsend Potter.” You mumbled. You stepped away a few seconds later crimson kissing your cheeks. “Don’t tell Siri we talked. He’ll be pissed.” And with that, you left.

James felt his heart hammer as he sucked in the air he didn’t realize he had stopped breathing. What just happened?

James had had a crush on you the second you locked eyes centuries ago on platform 9 and ¾. You were the main reason he had looked so long for a certain compartment. A compartment that contained a set of twins, one of which would become his best friend. You had always been very pretty, your strong attitude had aided in that conclusion as well. He thought you were going to be very good friends with him. That was until you were sorted into Slytherin and Sirius soon revealed his rivalry with you.

He had still harbored feelings for you, small ones he chose to ignore most of the time. He never told a soul, passing his feelings from girl to girl. He proved to be quite good at burying them. You also showed just how good you were at unearthing his secrets with a laugh, a wide smile or the save of a quaffle. The feeling of you in his arms rested in his mind for a long time. He dreamt of you, yearned to hold you again. You had smelt like caramel and cinnamon, you fit into his chest as a puzzle piece did to its neighbor. He really wished you hadn’t hugged him.

As your sixteenth birthday approached both twins appeared to be more and more on edge. James was dead set on throwing a massive party but Sirius didn’t seem into it. As the day loomed closer he got jumpy, almost paranoid; as if someone was going to lean out from behind him and throw a bag over his head before dragging him away.

James also began to notice your absences from classes. More and more often you were simply gone, not being anywhere for days before appearing out of nowhere. You always looked so pale when you got back from wherever you had gone, the circle under your eyes always looked darker. He had asked Sirius what was up but got nowhere, he would just lick his lips and say nothing was wrong. A blatant lie.

You disappeared four days before the 3rd and was gone the entire week. Sirius refused to go to classes that week as well, claiming to be sick, which was fair considering he looked white as a ghost most of the time.

When you finally returned it looked as if you had been kissed by a dementor. Your face was vacant of any color, your usually vibrant eyes looked pale, bags underneath them bruised brown.

Both James and Sirius simultaneously tried to convince themselves you just had a stomach bug, that your sunken cheeks were nothing to be concerned about. Both knew they were wrong.

Sirius found you easily. He knew you too well. You always snuck outside, even when you were younger you would always sneak to the park a few blocks away to escape your mother’s rage. Until you learned to play with fire rather than run from it.

He followed you to the greenhouse. You had always liked herbology.

You turned at the shuffle of feet to see your brother, he looked almost as terrible as you did.

“Did you do it?” He asked, his voice sounding so empty as muffled chirps of crickets flowed through the cold November air.

You refused to look up, You sat in the corner of the cold glass house, your knees pulled to your chest, eyes cast on your dress shoes.

“Did you really go through with it?” His voice cracked, he stumbled over his own feet.

You still didn’t answer. Tears had built so thickly in your eyes you couldn’t see. You blinked and they went cascading downwards, raindrops leaking off your chin.

“Answer me y/n!” Sirius cried through gritted teeth, tears of his own threatening to spill.

“We have to get Regulus out of that house.” You spoke so plainly it was hard to believe that the words had come from you. “Fuck Siri they have a new initiation ceremony. He can’t go through with that.”

“Shit y/n/n, what did you do?” His voice was a mix of disgust and despair.

“I don’t fucking know.” You answered honestly.

“Did you kill someone?” He hissed.

“I wish I did Siri, I really wish I did.”

Sirius dropped his shoulders a defeated sigh coming from his lips.

“We have to get him out soon Siri. He is so much more stubborn than you were too.” You whimpered. “I mean you practically disowned yourself, mom just needed a push with you.”

“Why did you give her that push?” Sirius gasped, “Why did you do that? I could have helped you.”

“I saved you, Sirius.” Your sentence broke in half, “I know you hate me for it but I saved you.”

Sirius wiped his eyes furiously, “How did you possibly save me y/n?” He seethed.

“What do you think mom would have done if you were still in that house four days ago?” You asked. You knew he already knew the answer.

“Why the fuck didn’t you save yourself?” Sirius hollered, “Why did you follow every rule she set? Every fucking order she gave you?”

“The Black family needed an heir.” You shrugged tongue darting out to collect a tear from the corner of your mouth. “I knew it had to be one of us, if not you or me then Reg.” you paused, “So I decided it would be me.”

“How? How could you possibly decide that?” Sirius sobbed now standing in front of you. You still didn’t look up.

“It was easier than you would think.” You chuckled darkly.

“It’s not fair y/n.” He stated, “We can still help you. Dumbledore will help, you can stay with James and me. Please y/n.”

“It’s too late and you know it.” You spoke, “Best not to cry over spilled milk.”

“But your life isn’t spilled milk!” Sirius shouted.

“Might as well be.” You shrugged finally meeting your brother’s eyes. They matched your own, puffy and red.

“How can you say that?” The boy spat, “It’s your fucking life!”

“Not anymore.” You sighed. “Look, Siri, in all honesty, I don’t give two fucks about my life right now, we have less than 13 months to find a way to get Regulus the fuck out of that house and then boom he turns 16 and none of this shit matters anymore. So stop worrying about me and start realizing we can still save him.”

Sirius had never felt so incredibly selfish before. You had given away your life for him and for Regulus. What had he given away? He had gotten the life he wanted while you would suffer for the rest of yours. And all you said was ‘It’s best not to cry over spilled milk.’ He suddenly remembered every jibe and comment he had said to you. You had done nothing but bite your tongue as he taunted the nightmare you lived him so he could bask in a daydream.

“I need you to start hanging out with him.” You mumbled, voice raw, “I have been avoiding him, hopefully, it will help. I’m gonna start making up lies about how his grades are slipping and he’s hanging out with mudbloods, maybe dating one.” You sighed, “Reg still wants to impress mom, I need you to get it into his mind how twisted she is. Make him hate her. Make him hate me too, use me as an example.” You paused, “Can you do that Siri?”

Sirius didn’t speak for a long time. You didn’t pressure him to. You stared straight ahead tears still leaking from your eyes.

“Yeah, I can do that.” Sirius finally spoke. He sounded half-dead, deflated. He sounded like you.

“Good.” You didn’t waste a second. You got to your feet wiping your tears and then you walked away.

James sprinted down the halls. He has his eyes peeled to the two names in the greenhouse. He made it free of the castle and saw a figure making their way towards him. He glanced down at the map and saw that it was you.

As he neared you he was finally able to drink in your appearance. Your eyes were bloodshot, you were attempting to dry never-ending teardrops, dragging your forearm repeatedly over your face. When you looked up at him his heart broke. Your bottom lip was shaking eyes so glassy it must have stung.

You dove into his chest, wrapping your arms around him and you began to cry. Your body jumped with sobs as James pulled you closer to him.

He forgot about everything but you as you nuzzled closer to him. He forgot about Sirius, about the tears soaking through his shirt and the dew that had dampened his robes. He only cared about you. You and the fact that you still smelt like caramel and cinnamon, you and your overly soft hair, you and your cold hands wrapped around him.

James nestled into your hair inhaling its intoxicating scent. He then hooked his hands under your arms and lifted you so your hands were wrapped around his neck. You understood and wrapped your legs around his waist your head becoming buried into his neck. He placed one hand under each of your thighs and began to carry you inside. As you made your way through the castle your tears began to slow, sobs turning to whimpers.

James felt his face bloom with deep red roses. His heart was thumping far too quickly. When he reached his destination he only had to pace twice before the door showed its self. The inside of the room was relatively the same as it always was except for the large brick fireplace and massive couch filled with large pillows.

The Chaser attempted to set you down on the couch but your firm grip on his neck and the legs wrapped around him forced him to follow downwards. A fresh blush coated his cheeks. You burrowed back into his embrace and it was quiet for a long time. The only noise coming from the crack of the fireplace and the sound of a faint wind blowing outside.

“Y/n what happened?” James finally asked and you pulled a bit away from him so you could look him in his eyes.

He looked so handsome, his deep chocolate brown eyes were wide with worry, only more magnified behind his round glasses. His cheeks were painted with poppies, his lips plush, and pink. His unruly thickly curled hair framed his face perfectly, a small strand falling between his eyes.

“You know I always had a thing for you.” You smiled weakly, “From the moment I saw you on the platform I thought you were the cutest thing I had ever laid eyes on.”

James wasn’t quite sure how to respond, he assumed he was dreaming.

“I never wanted to tell you, James, I never thought I would. But I need to.”

The room fell quiet again.

“Can I kiss you y/n?” James finally asked his heart near shattering.

You nodded slowly and he let his eyes flutter shut, yours doing the same as your lips gently met. The kiss was so fragile you were afraid it may break. He tasted like pumpkin juice, his tongue slipping into your mouth seconds before you pulled away.

“Y/n let me help you.” James pleaded as you swung your feet off of the couch, sitting upright as you mumbled ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’ quietly to yourself.

“Just.. take care of Siri for me.” You could feel tears beginning to climb back upwards.

James sat up beside you, “Y/n please.” He begged.

“It’s okay James.” You assured him with a watery smile. “You’ll get over it.”

“But y/n-”

You shushed him placing your pointer finger on his lips. He blinked a small tear falling down his flushed cheek. You wiped it away with your thumb.

“You’ll be okay James.” You paused standing swiftly, “Best not to cry over spilled milk.” You murmured over your shoulder as you left the room.

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flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash · 3 years

Text

Irresistible Danger - Part 54

Synopsis: After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 3,305

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

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Allies and Foes

You woke up the next morning to an empty bed, the cooled sheets and pillow telling you that Negan had been gone for a while. A quick glance at the clock showed it was almost 9am, and you lazily stretched underneath the red satin, enjoying the ability to sleep in.

You vaguely remembered Negan waking you up with a kiss to the neck earlier, when it was still mostly dark in the room. He had murmured something about a meeting with his Saviors, and you had responded by turning over and grumbling for him to let you go back to sleep. The last thing you remembered was his low chuckle, and then you were out again.

Reluctantly rolling out of the ridiculously luxuriant bed (seriously, where did he find such a soft mattress during the apocalypse?!), you started getting dressed. Unfortunately, you only had the outfit from yesterday, which wasn’t the cleanest after being out in the woods, but it would have to do until you returned to your own room.

The intrusive thought hit that maybe you could leave a few items of clothing here, so that you had more morning-after options for next time. You quickly dashed the thought, not wanting to get ahead of yourself. Sure, you had now spent the past three nights in a row with Negan, and two of those nights had been in his bed, but that didn’t seem like long enough to start moving in items. Just the thought of Negan doing something so domestic as allowing you to start taking over his armoire and bathroom drawers made you chuckle at the ridiculousness of it.

Though, doing so would mean more events like last night could easily occur, since you wouldn’t have to keep running back to your room for more clothes or other belongings. Your mind flashed to the shower, and what the two of you had done in it the previous evening. How you had gone to your knees and proceeded to blow both his cock and his mind. He had been particularly vocal, his sharp grunts and loud moans echoing off the tiles as he ran shaky fingers through your hair and made you feel like the most seductive woman on the planet.

Still smiling at the memory, you finished zipping up the boots, grabbed Ricardo, and headed out of the bedroom and across his office to the door. Creaking it open a few inches, you peeked down the hall. Seeing that it was clear, you quietly exited the room, shut the door behind you, and speed-walked down the halls and to the stairwell needed to get back to your room. Letting out a little puff of relief when you made it to your own floor, you slowed down the pace a bit, no longer needing to scurry like a roach caught in the kitchen when the lights turned on. Honestly, the fact that you had yet to run into a Savior or wife while making the morning-after trek to and from Negan’s room was really damn lucky and-

“Hey!”

The sound of a voice just as your hand was reaching out for the door knob to your room caused you to jump about a foot in the air. Whirling around, you saw none other than Maria at the opposite end of the hall, waving her hand in greeting as she came towards you.

Crap. Couldn’t the universe have at least let you put on clean underwear first?

Much as you didn’t want to interact with someone at the moment, you couldn’t help but recall the last time Maria had tried to speak with you, in this very hall. It had been after Negan confronted you about the pregnancy test, and you had completely ignored her and rushed past without a word. At the time you had been too emotional to care, but now you knew that she was owed an apology, not to mention the fact that you hadn’t really chatted or hung out with her since the night out at the picnic table. Doing the mental math, you realized that late night conversation had to have been a little over two weeks ago. Yea, you had been a shit friend to Maria lately, and it was totally deserved karma to have her pop up when you weren’t really prepared for social interaction. Well, you would just have to get over it. She didn’t deserve to keep being pushed aside, and you wouldn’t do so to her again.

Pasting on a grin, you opened the door and gestured for her to come inside. She preceded you into the room and settled on the rickety little bed. You tried to nonchalantly lean Ricardo against the wall, in hopes she wouldn’t ask why you were walking around with a weapon so early in the morning. Thankfully, she seemed too busy scanning the meager surroundings to notice. It had been a while since she was in your space, and you tried to take in the tiny room from her perspective, wondering if she found it lacking. You weren’t sure what the wives’ rooms looked like, since apparently Negan wasn’t keen on them having visitors up there, but if it was anything like the fancy clothes they wore then it was sure to be much nicer than your own room.

Just thinking about them made a lump of discomfort form in your stomach. It wasn’t as if you had forgotten about the fact that the man you were developing feelings for had a harem of women he called his wives, but it had been a lot easier to push them to the back of your mind when one wasn’t sitting in front of you.

Not wanting to waste time with small talk, especially when you both were smart enough to know it was a shallow distraction, you dove right in.

“I want to apologize for the other day, when I ignored you. That was shitty of me, and I’m sorry.”

She gave a tiny smile, and you immediately knew that she wasn’t mad. Of course she wasn’t. This was Maria, and she was one of the most forgiving and patient people you had known since the apocalypse began. The fact that she was still willing to even deal with your fickle ass, especially after your last couple of interactions, was proof enough of that.

“It’s alright,” she replied. “You looked pretty frazzled anyways. Everything okay?”

“I don’t know about everything, but things are alright,” you mumbled, almost hoping she wouldn’t hear the words.

You started picking at a stray thread on the grey cotton sheets, unable to help but compare them to the luxury of Negan’s satiny red ones. Ugh, why didn’t you just stay in his bed all morning, instead. You could’ve enjoyed physical comfort and social isolation there.

Able to feel the weight of Maria’s gaze, you lifted your head to look at her. As expected, she was watching you closely, the slightest ghost of a smile tipping one corner of her mouth. “What?” you asked, not rudely, but perhaps a bit impatiently. She looked like she knew a secret that you didn’t, and you wanted her to just spit it out already.

“You spent the night with him,” she stated in a gentle tone, and when you jerked in surprise and opened your mouth to say....well, you had no clue what you were going to say, but thankfully she cut you off. “Which means,” she continued with a raised palm, a silent gesture for you to not get defensive just yet, “that considering how negatively you viewed his multiple wives situation, you must also know he stopped sleeping with them.”

Mouth still hanging open, you stared her down for a few seconds before snapping it shut. Making a “go on” gesture with your hand, you waited for her to continue with wherever it was she wanted this conversation to lead.

She then told you how she had suspected for a while now that the reason why Negan stopped coming to see the wives was due to his interactions with you. Her theory had been confirmed after your late night chat out at the picnic table when you admitted to being in his bedroom, somewhere none of the wives had been allowed to enter.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you whispered, clutching the bedsheet so tightly your fingers were about to go numb.

“Honestly? Because you weren’t ready to hear the truth, and I knew you’d have completely shut down at the very thought of it. You still wanted to see him as a monster, so I figured I’d just wait and see how things played out. See if he’d keep allowing you to get close to him, or if one of you would get spooked and run, so to speak.”

You mulled this over. Was she right? If she had told you a couple weeks ago that he had suddenly stopped sleeping with all of the wives, would you have believed it? Doubtful. And even if you had, never in a million years would you have listened to her theory that his drastic change in behavior was because of the few interactions he’d had with you up until that point.

Much as you hated to admit, Maria had been right to keep quiet about it. Though you did wonder how she thought you had found out. Did she assume Negan had told you? Or maybe she was aware of how Amber had been using Trixie, and had come to the correct conclusion on her own. Maria was intelligent, so there was a good chance she knew more about the goings on around here than people gave her credit for. You wanted to ask how much she knew, but also didn’t want to risk outing Trixie, since she had told you that information in strict confidence.

Instead, you asked, “So now that you think I am ready to hear the truth, is there anything else I should know? Are the others coming up with a plan of how to quietly dispose of me, so that Negan will pay attention to them again?”

You said it jokingly, but were honestly curious to know how they felt about these recent changes. Amber obviously wasn’t your biggest fan, but what about the others? Did they see you as a threat to the luxuries they enjoyed here? Honestly, if the roles were switched, and they were the ones threatening whatever you had going on with Negan, you’d be tempted to sharpen mini-Ricardo shanks and take them out one by one. Your subconscious whole-heartedly agreed, giving a battle cry and stabbing at the air, as if taking out imaginary opponents, while your brain sighed and rolled its eyes.

“Well actually, we did recently have a group conversation about you.”

She said this calmly, but it still made your eyes go wide as you exclaimed, “You what?”

“It was a few days ago. Amber had been throwing a real tantrum after she tried to take Negan a dinner tray, and found him already in his office eating with you.”

Oh yea, you remembered that event, vividly. It had been about a week ago, before his last supply run. It was the evening he had confessed to you about his dead wife, and then Amber interrupted by knocking on the door with a tray. It had been apparent she wasn’t happy to see you there, nor to be sent away by Negan, so you weren’t surprised to hear she hadn’t handled it well afterwards.

Nodding for her to go on, Maria continued. “We let her vent about it for a couple days, since I think we were all hoping she’d eventually let it go the way she does most things that get under her skin. But she was like a dog with a bone this time, and kept running her mouth to all of us about how you were stealing Negan from us, and that if we continued to just sit back and let this happen, we were putting our status here in jeopardy.”

Sweat broke out on the back of your neck at the possibilities of where this story could be going. Just the thought of the wives sitting around talking about you as a potential threat or enemy made your stomach flop, but you stayed quiet and let Maria finish.

“She was really trying to get the rest of us riled up, and then one evening she started telling us all that we better be prepared to start scrubbing toilets for points, since we were willing to just let him toss us to the curb. That was when Sherry finally stepped in and put her foot down.”

“Wait, Sherry?!” you blurted, absolutely shook at this turn of events.

Maria nodded. “Yep. She told Amber that all she was doing was starting unnecessary drama, and that Negan had never given any indication that we would lose our privileges or have to start working for points just because he isn’t fucking us every night. Amber tried to argue at first, but Sherry held her ground. Told her that she’d gladly go get Negan, so Amber could tell him her concerns face-to-face, rather than continuing to make assumptions behind his back. That shut her up real quick, and she stormed into her bedroom and stayed there the rest of the night. I haven’t heard her say anything else about it since. She’s still sulking around a bit, but at least she’s been quiet.”

Your brain was struggling to take all this in, especially the part where Sherry had not only stood up for you, but done so against another wife. Crap, now you really felt like an asshole for being jealous and internally snarky towards her that day in the kitchen, when she took you to the medic after you cut your finger.

“Do you actually think she’ll let it go now?” You had a feeling that you already knew the answer, but couldn’t help asking.

Maria sighed. “I can’t say for sure, but Amber doesn’t seem like the kind of person who is okay with not being doted on. I don’t think she has any particularly strong feelings towards Negan, but she enjoys the status of being a wife. It can be a bit of a power trip, to catch the attention of a man like him, even if for shallow reasons.”

“Yea, don’t I know it,” you mumbled under your breath.

Maria raised an eyebrow, having obviously heard. “I don’t think I’d classify his attention towards you as shallow.”

Giving a huffed laugh and shrug, you tried to play it off. “Yea, well, is anything about Negan easy enough to classify?”

“Probably not,” she said with a shrug. “But that’s part of what makes him so intriguing, right?”

“If by intriguing you mean confounding as hell, then sure.”

Despite your annoyed tone, you were genuinely smiling at this point. Part of you wondered if this should feel more weird than it did, talking to a woman who was Negan’s “wife”, and had most likely slept with him, about whatever it was he had going on with you.

As if reading your thoughts, Maria’s face became more serious. “I hope this doesn’t make you feel like you can’t still talk to me, or see me as a friend.”

If you were being totally honest with yourself, the whole situation didn’t make you feel 100% comfortable, but you were pretty sure that was because of the possessive part of you that wanted him all to yourself. But was that a realistic emotion to even have, with a man like him? Could you be okay with him continuing to publicly have “wives”, even if he wasn’t sleeping with them? And what if he later decided to go back to them? It’s not as if he knew that you were aware he wasn’t sleeping with them at the moment.

Mentally shoving those questions into the padlocked box with the other unanswered questions, you honestly replied, “I’m not totally sure how I feel about all of this yet, but I definitely still see you as a friend, so no worries on that front.”

“I’m glad,” Maria said with a nod. “And in case I didn’t make it obvious, no part of me will be upset if Negan decides he doesn’t want to give us the same privileges anymore. Well, so long as you promise to give me a spot in the kitchen, so I’m not stuck scrubbing toilets beside Amber.”

“Deal,” you said with a laugh, glad that the air had been cleared between the two of you, and that she wasn’t harboring ill feelings towards you for taking Negan’s attention away from her and the other wives. Part of you even wondered if she had spent much alone time with him, since she hadn’t been his wife for very long when he stopped sleeping with them, but some things were just better left unknown. Besides, it’s not like he slept cuddled against any of them all night afterwards, or let them in his bed...or his shower.

Your subconscious was feeling awfully smug at that thought, nose in the air as it strutted around with a superiority complex. Meanwhile, your brain was pointing at the padlocked box of questions in annoyance, a motion which the subconscious purposely ignored.

You chatted with Maria for a bit longer, the conversation much lighter and more frivolous than before. It felt good to just hang out and discuss random topics, the way you had when the two of you were surviving for weeks out in the woods together. You might’ve each taken very different paths when it came to Sanctuary life, but it was a relief to know that the connection you had formed prior to coming here surpassed those differences. You also appreciated that she didn’t push for more information about you and Negan, and didn't even mention his name again.

When she left a little while later, a glance at your watch showed that dinner prep was in about two hours. Grateful for the chunk of alone time, you finally changed into fresh clothes and propped yourself up in bed with the copy of Harry Potter. You smiled when removing the little piece of paper you had torn from your notebook as a bookmark. While this one was blank, there was a second little piece of paper that was bookmarking a place closer to the beginning of the book. This piece of paper you had marked in pencil with the letter N, and it held the spot where Negan had stopped reading yesterday morning. You had stuck it in there after he left your room, the book having been face down on your side table where he placed it when you woke up and distracted him. Hoping that he’d return to reading it, especially if you kept his place, you couldn’t help but mark his spot.

Just the thought of his possible reactions to some of the plot twists had you smiling, at the same time as a devious thought crept into your head. If you made sure to get him hooked on the first book, he’d definitely have to find copies of the other ones in the series to share with you, right? There’s no way someone can read the first book and not need to also read the rest.

Both subconscious and brain nodded in agreement at this theory before cuddling up on either side of you, so that they could also see the opened book. Diving back into the story with a contented sigh, you immersed yourself in the magical world, not planning a return to reality and all the awaiting unanswered questions until it was time to head downstairs for dinner prep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

#negan #negan fanfics #negan fanfiction #negan x reader #negan x you #twd #the walking dead #ash writes #irresistible danger #the walking dead negan #twd negan #slow burn #fanfiction #fanfic #negan's thirst squad

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katnissmellarkkk · 3 years

Note

I *DEMAND* part 3 of shattered pearl. I repeat. I *DEMAND*.

Hahahahaha omg. Well, I decided to legitimately dig through the archives of my writing drafts and found chapter three of the Peeta-Wasn’t-Hijacked fic. It’s been given like 1,000 different names on different sites. I’ve never loved any of them. And I don’t really think this is my best writing ngl. But I also figure ... why be so stingy, ya know? If I have an incomplete draft, that I probably won’t finish, why not post a little bit? Especially since I literally left everyone and their brother who were reading this fic on a cliffy for over a year.

With that said.... I wrote this part like ... 15 months ago? 14 ? 13 ? Something like that. And I haven’t edited it since so ... yeah! Here’s a small chunk of chapter three! 🥳🥳🥳 Hope it’s better than I remember it being!

But it’s lacking something and it’s only then I realize, what I’m searching for inside Gale’s mouth, is the spark that only Peeta’s ever ignited in me. I keep waiting in vain for the warmth that started in my stomach and then rose up and exploded in my chest, for the craving that no matter what I couldn’t manage to satisfy, for the thrilling, almost hysterical, tingly feeling, to overcome me and leave me lightheaded in a completely foreign way. A way that couldn’t be attributed to lack of oxygen.

But it never does. I pull back and wipe my mouth carelessly on my arm and sigh, already sensing Gale’s demeanor taking a nose dive at my lackluster reaction.

I’m not disappointed when I look to see his expression. His eyes are frustrated, his mouth is downturned, his eyebrows are pinched together. And I feel as bad as I knew I would. Because no matter what, I’m hurting someone I deeply care for.

But how I feel upon seeing Gale’s face isn’t even comparable to the amount of remorse that fills me, that overtakes my entire being, when I see Peeta standing in the doorway, having watched our entire exchange.

I yelled his name as he disappeared down the hall. I tried to rip out all the needles and wires connecting me to the machines and the stiff, sterilized bed but Gale used all his strength to push me down flat. I was overpowered and exhausted and my left side was screaming mercilessly, and I don’t even know what pain was the bruised lung and what pain was my hurt ribs and what pain was my heart violently smashing into the pit of my stomach.

All I know is that if I had been able to reach Peeta before he evaporated, I have no clue what I would have said to him.

What I could have said to make it alright.

Gale tried to talk to me again after that but I entirely tuned him out, no longer caring if I wounded his feelings, or anyone else's for that matter.

It seems like no matter what I do, no matter how careful or cautious or preemptive I try to be, someone still got hurt in the end.

I wish I could just shut out the world, like I did during those first few weeks in Thirteen. Hide inside closets when I had a flashback. Shove myself into a minuscule crawl space with every nightmare. Refuse to speak to anyone who wasn't Gale or my family. Only eat when my mother nearly forced me. Show no remorse for how rude or how clinically insane I came across.

But now there was an agreement in place, an agreement I made to protect the victors—namely the one who just disappeared down the hall on me—and the people who had no voice on their own. The people who’s only chance was a half-crazed, shell-shocked, battle worn seventeen year old girl, who was just gunned down on national television.

Even if I wanted to retreat to some safe haven inside my head—if such a thing even existed for me—like Annie Cresta, I knew it could never happen.

For me, that wasn’t an option. If I don’t fulfill my duties to Coin, Peeta, Johanna, Annie and probably countless more people will suffer. The districts would undoubtably suffer. Gale would suffer. My mother and Prim would suffer.

I was proven right when later that same night Plutarch came to visit me again. I'd been lying on my side to avoid having to see Gale, who was still soldered to my bedside. My good side was thankfully opposite his seat.

When the Gamemaker spoke I thought I would be forced back to work. Forced to head back to the rebels and engage in their plans.

And I was resigned to it, well aware all along that I wouldn't be given the luxury of time to grieve the hurt I just caused Peeta. Or even the pain I knew I was inflicting upon Gale. The constant seesaw my heart was bouncing up and down on.

I was endlessly thankful that I was still pumped with morphling when Plutarch said that I was needed in Coin's office, because it heavily suppressed any real emotion I had brewing deep inside.

Morphling can cause you to let down your guard sometimes, make you say or do things you wouldn't otherwise or allow things to happen you'd ordinarily have the sense to stop. But it also causes all your severe emotions, all your heightened feelings, to dull as well. And for that, in light of everything that had just transpired, I was eternally grateful for.

When the doctor had removed all the needles from my arm, and I had been given a robe to go over my hospital gown—which, shockingly, was even uglier and thinner and itchier than the gowns they gave in the Capitol hospitals—Gale escorts me down the halls, through the corridors and to President Coin’s office.

I don’t speak to him the entire time. Looking at him makes my stomach churn with remorse and regret, though I’m not even sure who those feelings are directed towards. I’m not even sure how to articulate the way I feel right now.

And, as much as I try to force him out of my mind—as much as I do my best to rip him out from wherever he crawled beneath my skin and flooded into my veins—I inexplicably miss Peeta.

In more ways than I even know how to decipher. Even inside my own head.

I thought that feeling of longing would have ebbed away once he was rescued from Snow and his twisted mansion, but even knowing he’s safe here in Thirteen, I still crave his presence next to me.

I still want him next to me almost all the time.

It’s at least partially attributable to the fact that for so long, it was me and Peeta against the world. He has been my partner in this whirlwind rollercoaster since the first games and, even when I feel like every single aspect that could potentially go wrong has, sometimes it seems like I couldn’t have gotten luckier with who was chosen that fateful reaping to stand by my side the entire horrific ride.

I wipe my eyes as inconspicuously as I can but Gale sees and almost instinctively puts his hand on my shoulder. And proves he knows me better than I give him credit for. “I’ll talk to him, Katniss.”

“Don’t,” I immediately hiss. “You’ll just make it worse, Gale. He-he,” I struggle with explaining what I want to say and I curse my best friend for even addressing my moment of weakness because now I have to go talk to Coin, looking like an unstable mess—with a near bullet wound—and I blurt out the very first thing I can think of. “He doesn’t even know you, okay? You’ll just-“

There’s no malice in Gale’s voice as he softly replies, “Well, he was fine when I went and saw him before you woke up.”

I stop now, dead in my tracks. “You saw him? After I was shot?”

He nods slowly. “Yeah, I felt like should check on him. I know...” He pauses and looks upwards and I recognize, once again, this whole thing isn’t easy for him either. “I know he means a lot to you. And I heard what happened when he saw you go down. So I went and checked in on him...” He stops again before shrugging nonchalantly. “He was calmer by the time I saw him. He was nice. He’s always been nice.” At that Gale rolls his eyes. “Too nice. Probably why Snow wanted to hurt him.”

I start walking again, moving ahead of him a few paces. “You’re not helping,” I state, my voice a monotone.

“I’ll talk to him,” Gale offers again, running to catch up.

“Please don’t, okay? Just let it be. I don’t even know if he’ll speak to me, I don’t want to have to worry about what you’ll say to him.”

I vigorously shake off his hand on my shoulder when he tries to comfort me again, and feel him root into place as I make the rest of the way to Coin’s office.

And I wonder if I hurt him now too.

I wonder if I managed to completely annihilate them both from me in one night.

Much to my surprise and, to be completely honest, my utter disappointment, Coin doesn’t want me to head back out and fight for the rebellion. She doesn’t want me to even film more propos.

Plutarch does, but his ideas now are pretty frivolous and have more to do with him being still stuck in the fantasy of putting on a good show and less to do with fighting for the good of the country.

Coin simply says, “You did your job, Miss Everdeen. You united the districts,” in her calm, disingenuous—completely unsettling—tone.

And argument I put up is met with a simple shake of the head and a pursing of her lips. All indisputable rejections, her cold, blank eyes telling me wordlessly that in no way could I sway her once her mind was made up.

Still doesn’t stop me from trying though.

“I want to help the rebels,” I plead, looking to Boggs behind Coin’s chair, his face still stoic but his eyes giving me a look that isn’t altogether dismissive.

That was something. It was more than I was getting from either Coin or Plutarch.

Coin though brushes off my words and cuts me down infuriatingly quick with a single sentence. “Plutarch wanted to see Peeta earlier, talk about some propos. But when he sent for him, one of the doctors working with Peeta said he wasn’t having a good day.”

Her tone is smooth and pleasant enough but there was an undercurrent to her words that she knew I would hear. “Do you know how Peeta is? I would have thought with your waking up this morning, he’d be in better shape than he was but if you two aren’t getting-“

“Me and Peeta are fine,” I snap, not liking whatever she’s implying.

She nods, slowly at me, choosing her next sentiment carefully. “Well, let’s hope so. We need both of you now to remain the faces of this revolution. And I wouldn’t want you to do anything rash because of... problems between you and your... between you and Peeta.”

I’m shaking my head, feigning certainty, before she even finishes. “That’s not why I want to help the rebels,” I insist firmly.

“Irregardless, Miss Everdeen, we don’t have a job for you. You aren’t qualified to go into the fight and we no longer need your propos to unite the districts. Your job is done. Thank you for your help.”

And I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I’m being definitively dismissed now. Indefinitely.

I don’t make any effort to keep my cool, instead choosing to storm out of the room, slamming the door cacophonously behind me and wonder why I let that woman get to me so much. Why her words and implications slice me open like a knife.

Why no matter how much I try, I just can’t like her.

Something about her rubs me the wrong way and, once again, I wish Peeta was here with me in the room, because he of all people could understand what about Coin felt off and strange and so familiar.

I curse myself again, as I suddenly miss him even more than before.

Unable to force myself to put my focus elsewhere—especially now that Gale is surely angry too—I change directions and head towards the recovery room.

I don’t even knock before entering. I push the door open, only to find him sitting on top of his bed, a sketchbook in hand, a lot more tranquil than I pictured.

He looks up as I enter—and then, simultaneously freeze in the doorway, like the coward I truly am inside. Before he can speak though, I blurt out, “I know you’re mad about me kissing Gale and I don’t know how much you saw or heard, but it wasn’t... it wasn’t exactly...” I stop because once again, I’m unprepared and out of my element and have no rhyme or reason in what I’m trying to say. I don’t know the right thing to say. I never know the right thing to say.

Maybe if I did, I wouldn’t screw always everything up. “It wasn’t,” I finally force myself to continue, off his patient and somewhat bewildered glance. “It wasn’t what I wanted... I didn’t want it to happen. I don’t, I don’t even know what-“

He finally puts me out of my misery now. “Katniss,” he speaks my name along with a sigh. I watch carefully, feeling a lump build in my throat, as his blonde brows furrow over his baby blues.

He shakes his head, slow and calm. Far more reasonable than I ever anticipated. “I’m not mad at you, Katniss,” he promises, with all the genuineness in the world.

I bite my lip, befuddled by his words. “But... where have you been then?” Why did you leave me? A small voice in the back of my mind demands.

He shrugs, his gaze falling down to his bed now. His demeanor is almost embarrassed, I realize with a start.

“I wanted to give you and Gale space. I’ve been practically mauling you since you woke up so I thought-“

“But I didn’t want you to leave,” I abruptly burst out, unable to shove the words down any longer.

A pang of embarrassment shoots through me though, for the pathetic crack, evident in my tone. And I mentally berate myself.

Not for the embarrassment. For the pathetic crack itself.

And for the fact that somehow I’m the frenzied one here and Peeta is the voice of reason.

Which used to be our norm but after everything that’s transpired, I would have thought things would be reversed by now.

He just stares at me for a long moment, carefully considering his next words.

Finally, he opens his arms slowly and utters, “Come here,” in a tender murmur and I practically fly into his arms before I can second guess the offer.

I feel my injured side screaming as I curl up like a ribbon in his arms, but I surpress the wince to the best of my ability and instead bury my face in his shoulder, breathing in his sweet scent like a mad girl.

He softly presses his lips to my messy locks, carefully massaging the back of my head soothingly. “I’m sorry I ran away,” he whispers, barely loud enough for even me to hear. “I was just embarrassed. I know—I’ve always known deep down—that it’s not right for me to constantly hold you to the things you said in the games. Or to project my own feelings onto you.”

“You didn’t,” I refute venomously, my brows knitting together.

“Katniss, I know you and Gale have had something between you for a long time.”

“Gale was just a friend until me and you came back from our first games. Maybe he wanted to be more even before, I don’t know, but I never felt anything romantic for him. I swear.”

“You don’t have to defend your feelings to me,” he states softly.

“I know, it’s just...” I sigh, moving to sit upright across his thighs. “No matter what I do, it’s wrong. If I say I’m confused, you’re both hurting. If I say I want to kiss you or sleep with you or just be with you, I’m leading you on because I can’t-I can’t make any promises about my feelings right now, because I don’t even know up from down anymore. And if I say I do or don’t want to kiss Gale or be around him or hunt with him still, I’m hurting him or giving him the wrong idea or telling him the wrong things, and it all gets confused and there’s an entire rebellion that I’m the face of, and now I don’t even know if I’m a part of that, but Snow and his followers all hate me still so I know family still won’t be safe until this is all over. And you. You and Johanna and Annie went through the ringer over me. And Gale gets upset whenever he sees us together—it hurts him to see us—but I can’t always seperate you two from one another and I just-I don’t know what I can do. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Peeta lets me rant the whole entire spiel out, his hand slowly moving in circles to rub my back, from the top of my spine down to my backside. “Katniss,” he whispers once I’m done. “You don’t have to defend yourself to me. I get it. You’re under immense pressure. The last thing I want to do is make things harder on you.”

“You’re not,” I say, shaking my head insistently. “You’re not making anything worse, Peeta. It’s-it’s not you.”

“Okay,” he concedes and unconsciously wraps me up tighter in his arms. “Just relax, okay? Relax and breathe.”

I quiver and quake against him. “I don’t think I can.”

I barely realize I’m crying until Peeta leans down to kiss my tearstained cheek softly. “Katniss, it’s okay. I’m not mad. And Gale shouldn’t be. If he is, then that’s on him. The rebellion isn’t just your responsibility. Do not let them put all that weight on your shoulders. I know they already have but it’s not all your responsibility. And no one is going to let anything happen to your mom or sister.” He pushes my hair away from my forehead, pressing his lips there for a long moment. “Or you. I promise I will not let anything else happen to you.”

I swallow hard as he rests his forehead against my temple. I squeeze my eyes shut in hopes that it will make my head stop spinning somehow. Deep breaths to center myself fail miserably and in the end, I feel my bruised ribs and lung disagree with the movement and ache worse than before.

Peeta feels me cringing against him in pain and remains careful as he shifts, reaching for something off his bedside table.

I’m in too much pain to react as pushes off my robe and tugs my hospital gown down in order to slide against my skin, his hand holding it firmly to my side.

The icy temperature brings some sort of relief to me almost instantly, and I let out an audible sigh of relief, feeling my rigid body relax even a minuscule amount for the first time.

“I don’t blame you for having feelings for Gale,” Peeta murmurs, drawing my attention back to our conversation and away from my painful left side. “And if you want to be with him, I won’t hold it against you. I’m not going to lie, I’d be ... sad but... it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t still be your friend. It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t still be at jere for you however you needed me. There’s no ultimatums here, Katniss. I’m still here for you, even if you’d rather be with Gale.”

I pause for a long moment, absorbing his words. He’d be willing to be my friend, even if I hurt him? Even if I chose someone else over him? Even after everything we went through, even after all the ways he’d been abused because Snow could see how much I care for him? How much I need him. He’s still willing to put it all aside and be there for me, no strings attached.

And I try not to compare but my brain draws the conclusion almost involuntarily, and I can’t stop myself from realizing that, in the same position, Gale would likely not be telling me the same thing.

I burrow my face deeper in his shoulder, shutting my eyes in exhaustion.

Peeta catches me off-guard, moving my hair aside to kiss my neck, eliciting a flare of heat in the place where his lips brush my skin, and I may not know exactly how I feel, but I know in that moment exactly what I want right now.

“The only person I want to be with tonight is you,” I whisper honestly, looking up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to somehow understand an emotion I don’t know how to admit. “The only person I want right now is you, Peeta.”

#everlark #thg #hunger games #my writing #asks 🦋#everlurked 🌸✨

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bookstantrash · 3 years

Text

A/N: This is an idea that has been living inside my mind for a really long time and I finally gathered courage to write it. But I’m a bit of a perfectionist, so every time I read and edited it I always found more and more faults in what I had written, so I said “To hell with this, I’m gonna post it before I delete the whole thing”

This ended up being way longer than what I had imagined and I have no idea how I feel about it. So buckle up folks, because this is going to be a ride.

In which she makes a friend

After almost three months living in Illyria, Nesta could not recall a single conversation that had lasted for more than three minutes or that had been longer than two sentences. Not that she cared much in holding meaningless conversations about the weather and whatnot with the few Illyrians bold enough to talk to her. Because few were those that tried to talk to her, those that were not scared of her, whose voices did not whisper Other or Witch whenever she bothered to leave the house she now lived in.

So when Nesta sat on the lonely stone bench in front the house – the weather had given a break and gone from “insufferable bone cold” to “tolerable chilly” – to try and calm the raging fire in her veins, a sign that her power was trying to break free, a sign that she was close to breaking and destroying everything around her, she was very much surprised to find an Illyrian child walking towards her.

It was not unusual to have a few Illyrians knocking on the door sometimes, given that she now lived with him due to her sister’s order long ago in Velaris. But since her babysitter had gone to Cauldron knows where, to do Cauldron knows what a week ago, no one had come knocking on the door asking for that overgrown bat. Adding the fact that his house was a little secluded from the rest, Nesta could not imagine why that child was coming over.

“Good...good evening” the Illyrian greeted, stopping in front of her.

“He’s not here” Nesta said, eyeing the child in front of her. The boy – Nesta supposed it was a boy, not older than thirteen, with its short cut curly brown hair, bandaged hands, muddied clothes and scar free wings being the only clue she had – shifted nervously on his feet.

“I...I’m not looking for the General” the boy said “I heard there was a Witch living here. I take you are her”

For the second time of that day Nesta found herself surprised. The boy in front of her had called her a Witch in her face, something most did not.

“I wanted to ask for a spell” the boy’s voice had lost a bit of it’s previous nervousness, and he had squared his shoulders, wings slightly flaring “I don’t have much, but I’m ready to give anything in return”

‘You can’t possible have anything to give me’ Nesta thought, glancing at his ripped and dirty clothes.

“I’m no Witch” Nesta said, getting up and turning her back at the kid, making for the house’s door “Go back to your parents”

~•~

The next day, when Nesta was coming back from a walk in the woods – there was something about the ancient trees and the wilderness that helped her control her inner turmoil — she was baffled to see yesterday’s boy waiting for her.

“I’m sorry for yesterday” the boy blurted out before she could send him away “I didn’t want to offend you. I’m Kaelin”

Nesta’s only answer was a blink.

“I...I only said you were a Witch because that’s what the others said you were” Kaelin’s ears turned pink, no doubt embarrassed to admit listening to gossip.

“I don’t blame you” she said, and Kaelin’s eyes lit in surprise.

No. Nesta did not blame the boy for thinking her a Witch. Because long ago, before the war, before the empt void inside her was as big as the ocean, before she heard her father’s neck crack, she had declared to that annoying camp lord Devlon that she indeed was a Witch. But now, even though her powers were as loud as a beast’s roar in her ears, she did not want to touch them. Could not touch them.

And nothing, not even the hopeful look in Kaelin’s light brown eyes, would make her touch the wild beast that lived within her. She would not give the boy false hope. She would not fail another child. Not again. Not ever.

“If you have problems maybe you’d better tell your parents about it, instead of reaching for witchcraft”

After all, even thirteen year old Illyrians must have foolish mistakes that they would rather not tell their parents about.

“I don’t have parents. At least not anymore” Kaelin’s hard and sorrowful voice was enough to make Nesta resist prying further into his problem.

“I see” was the only thing she said, and she once again turned her back at him, entering that lonely and sad cabin, even though she was feeling rather inclined to talk, a feeling she had not felt for the longest time.

~•~

Kaelin appeared on Nesta’s door three days later, with a black eye, bruised cheek and a split lip that didn’t stop him from smiling and giving her something wrapped in brown paper.

“I thought about it and I realised that my apology was lacking” he started talking non stop, not giving Nesta a chance to say anything except gape at him and the gift on her hands “Father always said to treat everyone nicely, unless they were rude to you. He said it was what mother believed in”

Nesta could only nod and unwrap the paper to discover a pair of gloves.

“Did you steal them?” She asked, connecting the dots between the gloves she held — surely way out of the kid’s status of affordable — and his beaten face.

“No!” Kaelin replied, a bitterness in his voice “I know I’m just a lowly orphan but I’d never take something from another one in such an unhonoured way”

Nesta just grossed her arms, waiting for his explanation.

“One of the boys from the high families arrived at training with new boots” he gave a sly smile “I fought him for them”

“You did what?” Nesta’s voice rose and she was holding herself back from shaking the boy until he was back into his right mind.

“Fighting between Illyrians is not prohibited. But it’s best if you don’t get caught” Kaelin replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Nesta felt her temper rising.

“You. Come with me” she grabbed Kaelin’s arm and took him inside before he could protest.

She made him sit on sofa in the living room while she went searching for the medic supplies she was sure Cassian had. Once she found it, she went back to Kaelin and started treating his cuts, mumbling the entire time about how stupid and reckless boys were.

“This is nice” he said, wincing slight when Nesta touched his bruised cheek.

“What is nice?”

“Having someone take care of you” he answered “I... I didn’t know my mom. She died shortly after I was born. Father said she was quite fragile”

Nesta trying to not let show how his words affected her. She remembered another woman, dying in a lonely bed just a few years after her youngest child had been born.

“He died in the last war. Against Hybern” he practically spat the late king’s name, hate filling every syllable.

Nesta finished treating him and started organising the materials, to keep herself busy and have an excuse to buy time to know what to answer him. She had never been good at consoling others. And she didn’t know why, but she was afraid her bluntness would end up hurting Kaelin.

“He was a hero” he said firmly, his eyes shining with defiance “He may have been just a mere foot soldier but he was at the front line, keeping Hybern’s forces back”

“I’m sure he was” Nesta replied, trying not to think about who may have said otherwise to him, hurting a child who had nothing “But would he like to see his son picking meaningless fights?”

“It was to get you a gift” Kaelin looked down and poked at the sofa “I’m sure he’d have understood. Besides, I have to fight and stand out if I want to have a shot at the Rite”

“You mean the Blood Rite? I thought everyone participated” Nesta had gathered little information about the Illyrians for the time she had been living in Illyria. There were no libraries, no bookstores, and the books Cassian had about the Illyrian culture and history were scarce and outdated.

“The very one. You are not obligated to become a warrior, but that’s the path most of male Illyrians take. Not that we have many options to begin with” Kaelin’s voice had became serious “Most of the males from the richer families are bound to participate, but the rest.... we end up being mere foot soldiers. Expendable. So no point in making us take part in it.”

At his words, Nesta could not help but think about Cassian. He too was an orphan but had risen to be Rhysand’s Commander and had seven siphons. From what she had heard and seen at the war, that was rather unusual.

“It’s worse for females” Kaelin added quietly.

She knew that. Saw how females were treated on the rare times she got out of the cabin. A scarce number trained. And she did not know a lot about training, but was sure it was not near enough to make them part of the Illyrian army. Or even defend themselves were the worst to happen.

Nesta opened her mouth to say Cauldron knows what — she had to say something, she could not let the boy leave with such dark thoughts — when a loud noise interrupted her.

It was a sound Nesta knew quite well from her time as a human living in a shabby cottage.

A sound she had become reacquainted with after being Made. After that day at the battle field.

The sound of hungriness. The sound of someone who was starving, and had been so for quite a while.

And it was coming from Kaelin.

The Illyrian boy beside her blushed a deep scarlet, trying — and failing — to come up with an excuse. But Nesta knew better. She knew the signs of starvation. Saw them in herself. Had seen it in her younger sisters, when they were not older than Kaelin.

Thin wrists. Sunken eyes. Cheekbones way too sharp. Up close Nesta could properly examine Kaelin and notice that the boy was all bones and little muscle, his skinny built not a consequence of slow metabolism to gain weight, but rather the fact that he did not have enough sustenance to make it possible.

“I have way too much food stocked here. I was supposed to be living with an adult warrior that can eat for five people “ Nesta began, cutting Kaelin’s blabbering “It would be a crime to let it all get wasted”

Leaving him no window to reply, she took hold of his arm, hauling him towards the kitchen and making him to sit down while she gathered whatever food she came across. And she had enough fire in her eyes — she may or may not have lost a little bit of control of her powers due to her racing emotions — that Kaelin did not dare say a word, but just sit quietly and eat what was put in front of him.

~•~

Nesta’s routine had suffered a slight change after that evening. For the past month and a half, Kaelin had been having a meal with her after his training. Every day.

She had made sure to make it clear that she was expecting a visit from him after his activities were over.

He did not dare argue with her.

Today, however, was an unusual day.

Kaelin was late.

Almost two hours late.

Nesta had come to know Illyrian boy better, and one thing she learned about him was that he detested to be late. For him, his promises and commitment were everything, reminding her of another Illyrian she knew – which had not come back in two months. Not that she missed or was worried about him.

She tried and failed to convince herself that Kaelin may have been held back by training. But she did not know why she felt a strange feeling. Her powers were restless, more so than usual.

The air and the trees around her seemed different.

She felt it deeply in her bones.

As if the Cauldron itself — hidden far far away in a island that did not exist in any map ever written — dreaded whatever future thread the Mother was knitting.

As if something had been woken.

As if the winds of change had gone from a light breeze to a tornado, ready to wreak havoc in Illyria.

Nesta could not hold herself back any longer. She needed to know what was happening. To know if that strange song that spoke of a power strong and ancient was connected to Kaelin tardiness.

So into the woods she went.

She walked and walked, until the song in her ears got louder and a new sound appeared, a sound she would not be able to hear were it not for her fae ears.

The sound of someone whimpering.

Quickening her steps, Nesta followed the cries of pain until the wall of trees around her gave way to a small clearing.

And there, lying curled up in a ball, was Kaelin.

“KAELIN!”

Nesta ran towards him, falling on her knees beside his body.

“What happened? Did somebody hurt you?” she smelled blood, and feared the Illyrian whose boots he had “won” had gone after him for payback.

Her mind was racing, her thoughts overlapping themselves. She recalled another winged body, laying on the ground. She recalled another child, crying in pain due to its empty stomach, who had not seen food for weeks.

She would not fail anyone ever again. That had been her promise to herself.

“Kaelin...” Nesta slowly touched his arm, trying to soothe him “Talk to me. Tell me where it hurts”

Kaelin whimpered, slowly uncurling his body and tucking his wings. He clutched his abdomen, and Nesta dared to try and touch her power.

She would touch that dangerous beast if that meant she could help the young boy in front of her.

And so she tentatively reached inside herself for that source, trying to recall if any training she’d had with Amren may assist her in the current situation.

She scanned Kaelin’s body, and that’s when she noticed the small drops of blood beneath him. But her powers had not detected any wounds. No, he was not hurt.

However, she finally found the origin of the bleeding. And Nesta momentarily lost her breath.

Because she knew the reason why Kaelin was in pain.

“You are not a boy” she breathed.

Kaelin was a girl.

A girl who had had her first period.

A girl who was passing as a boy. Training like one.

And when Kaelin finally meet Nesta’s eyes, brown eyes shining with tears, she cursed the Mother for whatever future thread she had knitted.

•

Tags: @sayosdreams @thewayshedreamed @sjm-things @perseusannabeth

#sarah j maas #sjmaas #sjm books #sjm fanfic #nesta archeron

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king-finnigan · 4 years

Text

5 times Jaskier didn’t realize Geralt was giving him a gift for his birthday and 1 time he did

As part of my 500 followers celebration! Masterlist

***

Jaskier practically falls down on the chair opposite Geralt, giving his cheering audience one final wave, before he turns his back to them, dumping the coins he earned on the table, setting his lute down next to him gently.

“Well, that went swimmingly,” Jaskier says, and Geralt rolls his eyes at his wide grin, but can’t stop a small smile from appearing on his own face, as well.

“Hmm.”

“Oh, please, Witcher, even you can appreciate a good performance when you see one, no need to be so dismissive of my charms and talent.”

Geralt rolls his eyes again. Usually, he would’ve simply hummed noncommittally, and dropped the subject for the evening, but today’s Jaskier’s birthday. It’s been nagging at him all day, especially because Jaskier hasn’t even said anything about it. He knows humans like their birthdays, like to celebrate another year lived in this damned world – and he would’ve expected Jaskier to be prancing around all day, demanding special treatment and gifts and attention.

But he hasn’t. And that confuses Geralt. It’s not like Jaskier’s forgotten when his own birthday is – hell, he let the date slip a few months ago, so he certainly remembers, but he simply hasn’t mentioned anything about it, today. He doesn’t even seem particularly happy about it.

If anything, he seems almost sad. Which makes matters worse, because what kind of human is sad on their own birthday? Certainly not the kind he expected Jaskier to be, of all people.

So he’s conflicted. On one hand he wants to say something, but on the other hand, Jaskier doesn’t seem to be in the mood for it.

Also, he doesn’t really have a gift he can give. Hell, he doesn’t even know what kind of gift someone expects for their birthday, it’s been so long since he’s celebrated one.

He does get an idea all of a sudden, and clears his throat. Jaskier, already distracted by a fair maiden on the other side of the room, turns back to the Witcher, eyebrows raised. “Something the matter, Geralt?”

The Witcher purses his lips, shakes his head, decidedly staring at his own ale, instead of meeting Jaskier’s eyes. “Uh… You’re right. Good performance.”

He looks up right in time to see Jaskier’s face light up like the morning sun, and the bard reaches across the table, softly pushing at Geralt’s shoulder, leaving a trail of fire in his wake when he pulls back again. “Why thank you, Witcher! I knew even you could see that.” He throws Geralt a wink, before he downs his ale, standing up and sauntering over to the lady on the other side of the room, who welcomes him with open arms. He doesn’t have the strength to watch them leave, so he retreats to his own room, and hopes the compliment he gave is enough of a gift for Jaskier. At least this year.

II.

It’s Jaskier’s birthday. Geralt only remembers because the bard seems sad again, which means that, unfortunately, this time he’s as unprepared as he was last time.

So he spends the entire morning desperately looking around, searching for ideas for a gift – though, he comes up basically empty-handed. What he does notice, though, is that Jaskier seems to be limping slightly.

He frowns down at the bard from where he’s sitting on Roach, before he pulls her to a halt. Jaskier walks a couple of steps more, seemingly lost in thought, until he realizes he’s walking alone, and turns around, looking confused. “Why have we stopped?”

“What’s wrong with you?” He closes his eyes, mentally cursing himself when Jaskier’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, face indignant.

“Ex- excuse me, Witcher, but-“

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he interrupts Jaskier before the bard can go on a long, offended tangent about how absolutely rude and uncaring of his feelings Geralt is, or something similar. “You’re limping.”

Jaskier shrugs, the slight hurt disappearing from his face again. “Ah, well, yeah, I sort of sprained my ankle this morning when I went to the river to wash off. It’s nothing really, but- Geralt, what are you doing?”

Geralt’s feet hit the dusty path, and he steps to the side. “Get on Roach.”

“I- what?”

He resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Get. On. Roach.”

Though still clearly very confused, Jaskier obliges, and gets on the mare. “Not that I don’t appreciate this, but- why? You never let me ride Roach.”

If Geralt could’ve blushed, he would’ve right now, as he takes Roach’s reigns and starts walking again, pointedly looking at anything but Jaskier. “You’ll just slow us down.” A blatant lie, but he hopes Jaskier won’t be able to tell. At least the bard seems a little less sad now, and he hopes that it’s enough of a gift for Jaskier. At least this year.

III.

The next time, he’s still very unprepared, and he starts to doubt that he ever will be. He’s also run out of ideas for gifts for Jaskier, and frantically tries to figure something out before the day is over. But it’s well past dinner time, and he still has no idea what to do.

Worse than that, he has no clue where the hell Jaskier even is.

Well, until he walks out of the inn, and hears a raised voice coming from the alley.

Well enough, there Jaskier is, against the wall, three men surrounding him, shouting something about how the bard slept with their sister or something like that – because of course he did. Honestly, it’d be a miracle if Jaskier could stop sleeping around in every town they come across for a week.

He rolls his eyes, the little tendril of fear that had been awakened in him at the sight of Jaskier getting threatened by three men slowly dying down when he sees that none of them have weapons. Really, the only thing they can do is beat the bard up a bit. Though, unfortunately, that doesn’t mean Geralt won’t step in – he always fucking does, for some reason.

He walks forwards. “Gentlemen, what seems to be the problem?”

One of them turns towards him, fear creeping into his slightly rancid smell. “He slept with our sister, Witcher.”

He looks at Jaskier, eyebrows raised, and the slight guilt and exhilaration in the bard’s eyes tells him the men are right.

He sighs. “Not possible, he’s been by my side the entire night.”

“But Witcher-“

“Are you saying that I’m lying?”

The three men look away. “No, sir. We’ll… we’ll go.”

“Hmm.” He watches as the brothers hurry past him, before turning towards Jaskier, who’s smoothing down his clothes.

The bard looks at him with a shit-eating grin, and Geralt rolls his eyes again. “Thanks, Geralt! Knew you’d come save me. There does seem to be a slight problem, though…” He looks down at his bare feet. “I forgot my shoes in her room. Maybe I should go back and-“

Geralt shakes his head, then turns around, motioning for Jaskier to follow him. Any other day, he would’ve let the bard fetch his own shoes back, but today is not just any day, he knows. “I’ll buy you a new pair,” he grumbles. He hopes that it’s enough of a gift for Jaskier. At least this year.

IV.

The next time it’s Jaskier’s birthday, he’s a little bit more prepared – but only barely, still. He’d realized that it was coming up soon a week before the actual day, and had gone to the market in a dingy nowhere town shortly after that, while Jaskier was busy at the inn, cleaning his lute. (Geralt hadn’t been sure in which way Jaskier was cleaning his lute, but he’d decided that it didn’t matter.)

An old woman at a jewellery stall had told him humans liked objects for their birthdays – preferably expensive. Unfortunately, they were short on coin, so Geralt had asked the lady what kind of non-expensive gift he could give his long-time travelling companion and friend.

She had pointed to a ring, silver and engraved with waves. It had cost him a fair deal of coin, still, but he’d taken it – after all, silver protects against monsters, and he figures it’s both practical and, as Jaskier prefers things, nice-looking.

However, that did leave him with one question: when and how is he going to give it to the bard?

It’s been plaguing him all day, that simple matter. At first, he thought it best to give it at breakfast, but they had been attacked by a small pack of Drowners, so that hadn’t been an option. After that, he decided it would be best to give it at lunch, after they had arrived at the next small town. Except, Jaskier was nowhere to be found – at least, until Geralt walked past the blacksmith, and heard soft gasps in a familiar voice coming from behind the building. He’d walked away as quickly as possible, ignoring the small jab in his chest.

And now it’s already dinner time, and Jaskier’s performing and showing absolutely no signs of stopping, even though it’s well past midnight. So should Geralt give it to him afterwards? Or should he wait until tomorrow? Or should he toss the ring away, dig a hole in the wet dirt outside, bury himself in it, never to be found again? He decides the last option is the best one, but unfortunately, he doesn’t have a shovel and there’d be no one to take care of Roach.

Eventually, he decides to just head to bed. All this worrying and the heat of the tavern has got his head pounding, and frankly, he can’t wait for all this gift-giving bullshit to be over. He’s a Witcher, for crying out loud. Witchers don’t give gifts. Except he still bought a silver ring for Jaskier, last week.

He sighs, downing his ale, heading up the stairs. He pauses for a second in their shared room, when his eye falls on Jaskier’s bag, sitting in the corner. He strains his ears, hears that Jaskier is singing ‘Toss a Coin’ – which is always the last song for the evening – and decides he has to hurry up. He quickly opens the bag, burying the ring at the bottom of it, before he closes it again.

He’s barely stood up again, when the door to the room opens, and Jaskier walks in, lute in hand, grin on his face. “Ah, Geralt! Was wondering where you went…” he muses, setting his lute down in the corner, pulling his slightly sweaty doublet over his head. “So, what’d you think? Another stellar performance, I presume.”

“Hmm.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Geralt rolls his eyes, and quickly takes off his clothes, laying down in the bed. After a short while, Jaskier joins him, laying down on the other side. He doesn’t say anything except a “goodnight, Geralt”, and his mood seems unchanged – still slightly sad – so Geralt assumes he hasn’t found the ring yet.

A few days later, his eye is caught by something glistening in the afternoon sun. It’s a silver ring, engraved with waves, on Jaskier’s right hand, and Geralt barely suppresses a small smile at the sight. The bard seems in a particularly good mood as well, and Geralt hopes that it’s enough of a gift for Jaskier. At least this year.

The next year, he’s prepared. A month beforehand, when they stop in Oxenfurt for a few days, he goes to a little shop, tucked between two tall buildings while Jaskier catches up with some old friends in a tavern nearby.

He buys some bath salts that smell of roses, some soap that smells like red berries, some lavender oil against irritated skin, and, for good measurement, a lemon candle. It’s a pretty hefty sum, but he buys it all anyways – he tells himself it’s because they’ve been doing well monetary-wise lately, not because Jaskier’s smile is worth all the money in his purse and more.

Once again, he still doesn’t know how he should give it, though, and he simply hides it in Jaskier’s bag on his birthday again. He keeps a close eye on the bard, that evening, as he rummages through his bag for soap and bath salt, after Geralt suggested they could afford the luxury of a bath tonight, and offered Jaskier to go first. The bard had looked at him weirdly, but Geralt had pretended he didn’t notice.

“Oh!” Jaskier exclaims, as he fishes rose bath salts and berry soap out of his bag. “Huh. Must’ve forgotten about these.” He shrugs and stands up, closing the door to the adjacent bathroom behind him. Geralt smiles softly as he hears Jaskier getting into the bath, hears him humming softly. He seems in a good mood – more so than he did this morning. Geralt hopes that it’s enough of a gift for Jaskier. At least this year.

+ I

This time, he’s prepared months in advance, when they visit Novigrad. He finally has an idea of what Jaskier might want for his birthday, and as soon as the bard is gone to find a tavern to perform in, Geralt hurries to the nearest instrument builder.

There, he buys an expensive set of lute strings – once again, because they’re doing well monetary-wise, not because he wants Jaskier to be happy and is willing to pay any price for that. As soon as he gets back to the inn, he hides them at the bottom of his bag, smiling slightly when he imagines Jaskier’s face when he gets them. Though, he’ll need to find a way to actually give Jaskier his gift this time. Or maybe not. Maybe he’ll chicken out again and hide it in Jaskier’s bag, waiting for the bard to find it. He’ll see.

It isn’t until a few months later, on Jaskier’s birthday, that he knows for sure he’s going to chicken out again.

At least, that is, until Jaskier starts rummaging through the Witcher’s bag. Geralt pales, his heart sinking to his feet, and he’s ready to tell the bard to get his fucking hands out of that bag, for the love of the gods.

But it’s too late.

“Geralt, have you seen my chemise somewhere? The white, frilly one, with the metal buttons and-“ He stills, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape as he looks down into Geralt’s bag.

Geralt can only stare in horror as Jaskier pulls the lute strings from the bottom of his bag. “Geralt, why do you have these in your bag?” He doesn’t give him time to answer. “And they’re expensive as w- Geralt why do you have expensive lute strings in your bag?”

If Geralt could’ve blushed, he would’ve, and he looks away. “Uh… They’re uh… For your birthday, today.”

Jaskier simply stares at him, eyes wide. “How do you know it’s my birthday?”

Geralt shrugs, rubs at the back of his neck, trying to get rid of that uncomfortable feeling in his spine. “You told me, a few years ago.”

“And you remembered.” He says it flatly. “Even though I don’t celebrate it, you remembered that one time I mentioned my birthday years ago.”

He shrugs again, looks away.

“Wait, then why would you give me something this year, but not all the other years?”

Geralt bites the inside of his cheek, still looking at anything but Jaskier. “I did, but-“

“You did? I don’t remember…” This time Geralt does look at Jaskier, and sees the bard staring at him, so wide-eyed it’s almost comical. “The soap,” he whispers. “I didn’t buy that myself, you did”

Geralt nods, then shrugs.

“And the ring? That was you, too?”

Geralt nods again, and Jaskier shakes his head.

“Why the hell didn’t you just give it to me, instead of sneaking it into my bag like… like some- some reverse thief?”

“Because I thought you didn’t want any gifts. You always seemed so sad on your birthday, and you didn’t mention it, so I figured you don’t want to celebrate it.”

Jaskier suddenly laughs, and stands up, lute strings clutched to his chest as he walks towards Geralt. “I’m always sad because I don’t get any gifts. I never did. My parents were horribly against it, saying I would get spoiled or something, and I never mentioned it because I didn’t think you’d give a shit.”

Geralt feels a sharp pang in his chest, as the realization kicks in. “But I do give a shit.”

Jaskier laughs again, looks at the lute strings, still in his hand. “Clearly. I just wished you would’ve said so sooner.”

“I thought you knew.”

Jaskier scoffs, looks at him with eyes the colour of the sky and a smile that would make the sun hide away in shame. “Well, I didn’t. If I did, I would’ve kissed you sooner.”

Geralt furrows his brow. “Wh-“ His breath hitches in his throat when Jaskier lays a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer, their lips separated less than half an inch – so, so painfully close, but not yet touching.

“May I?” Jaskier whispers.

Geralt doesn’t respond, but merely closes the gap between them, kissing his bard softly. Jaskier smiles into the kiss, and the witcher can’t help but smile as well, as he pulls his bard closer. Too soon, it’s over, and they’re leaning their foreheads against each other, breaths intertwining.

“So,” Jaskier whispers to him. “When’s your birthday?”

Geralt grins. “Don’t even think about it.”

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #500 followers #drabble #5+1 things

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ko-fanatic · 3 years

Text

Blood, Guts and Chocolate Cake

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Danganronpa

Pairings: IshiMondo

Summary:

Mondo Owada, the Ultimate Bodyguard, is entering a four year contract with one Kiyotaka Ishimaru, the Ultimate Idol. It makes sense, two Ultimates put together for their high school careers, and he could use the steady pay check to send home to Daiya; those medical bills were a bitch, and it was his fault the accident happened in the first place.

It was supposed to be easy, guard the cutesy, clean-cut idol from perverts and stalkers, no big deal! However, the world's perception of Kiyotaka Ishimaru was far different than what the young idol had become. During the first few months before even stepping into Hope's Peak, he's more worried for the young boy than he's ever been for anyone before.

TW: Alcohol, and eating disorders (both restrictive behaviours and B/P), mentions of disability, underage sex/sexualisation, drugs

The hallways of this damn building were too long.

That was definitely the first impression Mondo got, being led down said monotonous hallways by a young woman with an expression which implied that she simply wasn’t paid enough to care about small talk. Not that he had any room to judge, hands shoved in his pockets and a permanent scowl on his face. He might’ve been going to review an upcoming contract, but the best thing about his position was that there was no need to be all smiley; Hope Peak’s choice for Ultimate Bodyguard was all the credentials he needed at this point.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel a bit intimidated by how long he would be working with these record label types. He couldn’t deny it made sense - hire the Ultimate Bodyguard to protect the Ultimate Idol, sound logic; it was just that a four year contract was… a lot. That wasn’t even thinking about the fact he was going to be glued to the guy’s hip for all that time, having to get along no matter what. Would he even have time to make friends of his own? Doubtful. Still, a paycheck was a paycheck, and he’d have to go to some highschool anyway, so kill two birds with one stone.

He’d never had an issue smiling through vapid celebrity bullshit before. It was going to be an easy ride, too; from what he knew, the guy was as prim and proper as they came. Real boy next door image. Easy to take care of, and mainly just telling overzealous fans to back the fuck up. Simple.

His inner monologue was broken by an abrupt stop, the woman only sending a bored glance his way before knocking. The door was pushed ajar with the quiet muttering of “Mondo Owada to see you, gentlemen”, before he was unceremoniously shepherded into the room.

It was just as big as you’d expect from a building like this, with a gargantuan desk and several business-types sitting across from him. They were even backlit by a floor-to-ceiling window showing Tokyo in all its glory - like some cheesy ass movie. Still, taking a cursory glance around the room, he couldn’t see anyone fitting the description of “teen idol”, let alone Ishimaru himself...

“Owada-san, good afternoon!” One of the men greeted cheerfully, clasping his hand in one of those firm yet professional grips he’d gotten used to since rising up in his career, “My name is Shiro Kamei, and these gentlemen are Kenshin Aki and Yutaka Hayashida. We’re Kiyotaka Ishimaru-san’s managers.”

“Well, that answers one question,” He shrugged, not sugarcoating his words, but not being as rude as he certainly could be, “But I don’t see Ishimaru-san around. If I’m meeting with anyone, I personally think it should be with the guy I’m gonna be with 24/7, for the next four years.”

“Of course!” Kamei-san chirped, far too cheerful for his taste, especially considering the stench of ass-kissing that followed it. Not sincere, but too many meetings like this one had trained him to swallow down the vomit that threatened to spew from the fakeness of it all.

“Ishimaru-san will be here soon,” Hyashida-san intoned, temperament a bit more palatable than Mr Chipper, “He’s a rather busy young man, being an idol of his caliber. Dance practice is just wrapping up, any minute now, so we can use this time to have a little chat - go through expectations for your role and such.”

Mondo managed to stop himself raising an eyebrow at that. Like he wasn’t the best bodyguard in Japan. He guessed it was something needed for a job of this sort, not temping or whatever, and so he settled down for a bunch of timewasting jabber.

Or, it was, until a certain request caught his attention.

“We also expect him to be kept out of, well… trouble…”

“Thought he was a cutesy, innocent kid?” He frowned, sitting a little straighter in his seat, attention piqued, “I’m guessing he’s the kind to get mouth-breathers and creeps, huh?”

The three men looked a little more caged at that remark. A couple cleared throats, a few tugged collars and cuffs, awkward air.

“Yes, there have been incidents, but nothing previous security couldn’t handle,” Aki-san informed, “The issue is a recent change in attitude. Nothing much, but tugging on the leash more than necessary, if you understand my meaning.”

He did. Part of him wanted to object to the idea that a sixteen year old needed to be kept on a leash at all, but idol shit was full of PR.

“So boy next door is going through a little rebellion, and you want me to make sure it stays on the DL,” He shrugged, “Got it.”

“I wouldn’t put it like that, Owada-san -!”

Kamei-san was interrupted by several short, sharp raps, door opening to reveal the man of the hour.

Ishimaru was pretty, no denying that. His eyes were what really caught everyone’s attention; bright, wide and doll-like. That said nothing about his facial structure - cheekbones and jawline and everything prominent - or his barbie doll-esque frame. He was probably one of the slimmest people Mondo had ever seen, at least in person. Well, and outside of a hospital. The media went absolutely gaga over his thigh gap, his lithe abs and delicate hip bones.

He personally prefers a little more meat on the bones, a little less fragile, but he guessed it was an idol’s job to appeal to the masses.

“Good morning, everybody!” He beams, but honestly? The sunshine emanating from him is a lot warmer - a lot more real - than Kamei-san. He actually had to take a second to come back to himself, knocked off equilibrium. The power of the Ultimate Idol, for you.

“Kiyotaka, this is Mon -”

“Mondo Owada,” He cuts in, wanting to introduce himself, cut the preamble, and offers his hand to shake, “‘M gonna be the one guarding you.”

Ishimaru gives him a once over, and for two seconds he thinks he sees a smirk pull at the corner of the young man’s lips, but he soon brushes it off as a trick of the light.

“Thank you so much for accepting our proposition, Owada-san!” He grins, and Mondo hates his little bi heart at that moment. Ishimaru clasps his hand. He can’t help but feel that they’re too calloused for a pretty boy idol, but he doesn’t dwell on it, “I hope we get along well!”

He’s loud, but the words are sweet, and Mondo relaxes a little bit. Easy job, as he thought.

---

Mondo was proven wrong in a matter of three days into his contract. He’d certainly been proven wrong far quicker than that before; however, in terms of sheer what-the-fuckery-is-this, this situation took the cake.

The train journey to the first tour destination wasn’t bad, if tedious. Kid spent all his time reading, and Mondo had no clue how he didn’t puke all over the place from staring at the pages. He’d looked at his phone for about five minutes and was ready to lie down and accept his death.

… Trains were not his prefered method of transportation…

Ishimaru had passed on the sandwiches on offer, but so did Mondo. No big deal. Those things sucked ass, and maybe the kid was more nauseous than he seemed. Wish that was him, considering he was pretty sure his face was pale green.

Settling into the hotel was fine, as was the tech set up in the venue. Stress emanating off everyone, but pretty normal as far as that shit was concerned. Ishimaru was dragged between costume fittings, tech run throughs and other things that just passed in a blur.

No, what really proved to Mondo that the pretty boy idol was going through an actual rebellious phase, was what he walked in on at 11:56pm, night three.

He’d gotten up due to a serious inability to sleep. Seriously, did he manage to get jet lag without even switching time zones? Nah, didn’t work like that. Maybe it was second hand adrenaline from the performance being tomorrow. Ishimaru might not make his kind of music, but the guy had this infectious enthusiasm for it all. He’d be backstage, too; premo location to see everything up close. He couldn’t help the slight smile on his face, in spite of how tired he felt.

Any fleeting, fuzzy feelings disappeared, however, when he walked into the main area of their hotel suite.

There stood Ishimaru, back to him, very much not dressed for bed. His jeans were so tight they looked spray painted on, not to mention the sequined top that cut off to show a tantalising flash of milky pale skin.

“Where’re you off to?”

His question seemed to startle the kid, who practically jumped three feet in the air, hand clutching his chest as he whirled on him.

“Fuck, what’s your problem?” He gasped out. Mondo couldn’t help but let his eyes widen, having not heard the boy swear since they met. Admittedly, it was only a few days, but Ishimaru just gave off such an innocent vibe. He’d questioned if the boy even knew a swear word for a while.

“The guy I’m meant to protect is running off into the city at midnight, and obviously didn’t plan to tell me,” He answered bluntly, “So, come on, where’re you trying to slink off to?”

“None of your business,” He sniffed, shoulders squaring, “And stop… talking to me like that. Like I’m a child. It’s annoying as shit.”

“Alright, sor-ry, jeez,” He apologised, hands up in surrender, “Let me just grab my coat and -”

“No!” Ishimaru ground out, “I’m going out, you're staying here, and my managers are none the wiser, got it?”

Oh, that sneaky fucker. While Mondo was all for personal freedom, no way was the scrawny kid going out there to get attacked and murdered in some urine soaked alleyway. For one, it’d completely fuck up his plans for the next four years - no money to send back to Daiya, and he seriously doubted Hope’s Peak would want an Ultimate Bodyguard who let the world’s most popular idol get murdered in a matter of days.

“Yeah, no, not happening, kid,” He shut down, reaching over the boy to get his coat, only for hands to press against his chest, stopping him.

“What do you want then? Money?” Ishimaru asked, looking up at him through his lashes. Fuck, the kid really went all out with the makeup; smokey eyeshadow and liner, glossed lips, the whole deal, “Or I can suck your dick?”

He nearly choked at that, face hot as hell and probably an embarrassing shade of red. “N-No! What the fuck?!” He yelled, only earning a shrug in response.

“Look, I need to go out - alone,” Ishimaru began again, arguing a point Mondo simply wasn’t going to agree with, “I need to get a little fucked up, railed into some guy’s mattress, and then I’ll come back. I’ll be here again before sunrise.”

“Tugging on the leash more than necessary”, his ass!

“Sorry, you're talking to the wrong guy,” He dismissed, doing his best impression of Daiya’s you done fucked up voice he could, “Back to bed. Don’t think you’re sneaking out, either. I’m just gonna stay out here all night, make sure you don’t go and get yourself cut up and dumped in the river. Y’know, my job.”

“Fuck you,” Ishimaru spat, storming back to his room with a mutter of ,“Asshole…”

If Mondo knew one thing, it was this… He’d really had no idea what he was signing himself up for.

---

A/N:

WOW, it's been a while since I've written for this fandom. Thank you Taka and Mondo for being an adorable pair of dumbasses and dragging me right back into DR. Hopefully, I'll add to my old fics too, but I've got lots of new ideas I want to play with (Including two other talentswaps and two AUs!)

For now, Ouran fics are on the back burner, I'm afraid. I'm sure I'll be back to them soon enough, but I'm a bit burnt out in my OHSHC obsession, so we'll see.

Also, as always, comments really help and if you want to take any of these concepts and run, go for it! All I ask is a credit and a link if possible! :)

#danganronpa #Dangan Ronpa #dr talentswap #idol!Ishimaru #bodyguard!Mondo #ishimondo #Kiyotaka Ishimaru #mondo oowada #blood guts and chocolate cake series #my fanfiction

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geekygoddesss · 4 years

Text

You (Part 9)

Summary: After Tom breaks the longest relationship he’s ever had, both of them seem to handle the breakup in a completely different way.

Words: 8k

NOT CORRECTED - possible typos along the text.

January 20th - Two weeks and a day after the break-up

There could be more than one reason on why he was waking up so early that morning.

It was hard to know what was happening to him right away, because he was really confused and not feeling his greatest enough to wonder why the hell was he even awake at this time. He didn’t know what time it was, but it felt early. Maybe it was that light coldness that ran through his bedroom, or the unusual silence that overpowered the room a moment ago, he had a feeling that he should be sleeping at this time, but whatever was happening, something was calling for him at unusual timings and he really was not in the mood to talk to anyone or even worst, help anyone.

He really felt like shit.

No exaggerations intended, he felt like real shit from the moment he opened his eyes and he didn’t know why. His body wasn’t prepared to go through another day.

Again, he really didn’t know what it was that was waking him up at this time, maybe because he was just waking up from the deepest of his sleeps and it was hard to acknowledge the world around him, but also, it was like everything was happening at the same time, and it made him completely confused for a good minute, confused enough to make his head spin.

At first he thought it might be that pressuring feeling in his stomach, one that felt painful and stronger than any other time, it was atypical and he couldn’t guess what was the reason for such an uncomfortable feeling; then he thought it was that constant tossing and turning, coming from someone laying right beside him, he couldn’t remember who was, just bits and pieces, but whoever that was, they were moving a lot for his liking; finally, and after a good minute of thinking about it and stupidly ignore it, he came to the conclusion that it might be because of the barking of his dog coming from outside the room, sounds that were muffled by his closed door, but still were just as uncomfortable. That was definitely what was bugging him, it couldn’t be any other thing, Tessa’s bark wasn’t the quietest of bark’s, even with the door being closed it was annoying.

He had the moral duty of getting up to go see what was happening, it was his dog after all, if the world was falling apart outside his window maybe Tessa would be the reason why he would find out about it, he couldn’t just ignore that something was happening and making her react, he had to get out from the bed and take a look.

It was more difficult than it seemed.

At first it was easy to turn to shake the covers out of him. His body was reacting slowly, slower than he’d like, but it was too early to be awake and he couldn't properly function. The second step was to open his eyes, thing that became a little difficult at first, but that after a couple of blinks and a bit of rubbing, it was done. Now he had to deal with the rest.

Seeing the real world open in front of him made him realize of a couple of things he wasn’t aware of. And all of those seemed to be equally as inconvenient.

Number one, He was very naked.

Number two, there was a girl sleeping right beside him, whoever that was, her face looked familiar, but it didn’t matter, it was a girl.

Number three, and more importantly, he had a boner, a painful one, and he really didn’t know where that was coming from. It was just… there.

He didn’t know what situation to manage first, everything was happening at first and he didn’t know what to do. Leaving all the unconformities aside, he decided it would be a wise decision to prioritize things, so with a bit of effort and quick thinking, he grabbed his side of the covers and placed them over his lower body, reached out for the pair of sweatpants he usually stored under the bed (for especial situations and emergencies), and with a couple of swifts moves, he sat on the bed and slid them on; trying his best to avoid the small pulsing feeling in his head, and moving on to see what the hell was happening outside his door.

His feet felt cold as he walked towards the door, he wasn’t the one who usually walked around the house barefoot, and adding to the series of annoying feelings, this was definitely one of them. He tried his best not to be noisy as he moved around the room, he didn’t want to wake the snoozing girl in his bed, but also didn’t feel like bugging himself with noise when he was already dealing with so much first thing in the morning, he tried to be discreet and quite. It was better for everyone.

The first thing he noticed when peeking outside of his bedroom (almost afraid that something big would pop up) was Tessa’s tail moving around like crazy, as her paws moved around and jumped in place while she continued barking at the door. He figured out the matter sooner than he thought, mostly before he heard the sound of a door knock just seconds after seeing Tessa acting crazy. It was pretty intuitive.

He really didn’t want to see anyone right now…

He really hoped it wasn’t any of his neighbours, though, they hated him already, he wasn’t in the mood to treat with any of them at the moment.

“What’s up, Tess?” he said quietly, leaning down to touch her back and calm her down a bit “Stop that” he mumbled, making her quite down and moving her aside, as he moved forward to take a look through the door’s peephole.

It was hard to focus on the image in front of him for two main reasons, one, the first thing that crossed his sight was a big mane of hair showing right in front on him, which made him doubt on who could exactly be, since he had a couple of options, but once he looked closer and thought about it, he didn’t even need to ask for a double check, because there was only one person he knew that had such a piece of hair, soft and prominent, and the second he knew who that was he just wanted to get it over it, because he sensed trouble and he wasn’t sure he could deal with it right now.

The moment he opened the door and peeked to see who it was, seeing those blue eyes looking directly at him made him confirm his theory, the guy in front of me was unquestionably more handsome and looking better than he could possibly be at this time. He was wearing a small smile, dark clothes and suitcase right behind him, he really couldn’t guess what he was up to, it was difficult to think, but he had a lot of questions and not many answers.

“Morning” Frank greeted, a side smile showing in his face as he gave a single wave.

He had to blink twice just to make sure he was seeing things right, he didn’t really expect Frank to be passing by his apartment at this time, especially when it was the only person staying there was just him.

Tom nodded once. “Morning, hi” he mumbled, hiding behind the door and rubbing his eye, in a poor intent to have a clearer view. “what a surprise, how are you, mate?” he asked, raising his eyebrows softly.

He still wanted to be friendly, after all, he was like family for him, he’s known Frank for a while, he deserved nothing but a nice treatment from his part.

“I’m good, how’s it going?” Frank nodded as he shrugged.

Tom nodded back. “Good, good, good, it’s all good...dandy, you know?” he answered quickly, trying to get a smile out of him but not really being able to, he was barely a person now.

He was not going to lie, this was becoming fairly uncomfortable for him.

Small talking… not his jam.

He had a problem he needed to solve now, he had a girl sleeping on his bed and he definitely needed to put some clothes on, he couldn’t be chit chatting and making short talk with his girlfriend’s cousin, he needed peace and tranquility, and he wasn’t getting any of it.

He needed to solve one problem at a time. Somehow he wasn’t half into the conversation and he already felt like he was losing his time, he had nothing better to do, but still had shit to get done. He needed to get this out of the way.

“Can I help you?” he kindly asked, pressing a small smile out of him as he looked up at Frank.

Frank smiled back. “My cousin is running out of supplies and she’s -like- driving me crazy, I just need to fill this thing” he mentioned, pointing at the suitcase beside him. “Do you mind?”

His mind flashed and woke him up in less than a millisecond.

How could he not notice until this day that she hasn’t sent anyone for her stuff?

And she had to do it now? so early? And at the worst possible moment?

That was anything but nice, he didn’t want her to be picking her things at all, but he didn’t want to be covering things like a high schooler either, just like he was about to do… the different was, he really had no clue how he was going to manage that. This was ridiculous.

Why did everything had to happen to him at the worst timings?

“No, I don’t, absolutely” he answered fast as he looked back and mumbled. “would you give me just one second? I’ll move Tess to the bathroom and she won’t bother you, it’s just a second” he excused, moving to close the door.

“She knows me, I don’t mind” he reminded Tom, making him stop in place before he closed the door in his face.

“But she barks and I don’t want the neighbours to be complaining later, you know…” he tried to explain, laughing awkwardly “Just a second, I’ll be back”

He didn’t even gave Frank the chance to say something or stop him from letting him into his apartment, because the moment he closed that door he found himself rushing into his bedroom, swearing on everything he could and finding himself so torned over stupid things that it was hard for him to think straight about anything.

First thing he had to take care of, that girl, he had to get rid of her in some way. Doing that without being rude seemed difficult, but he had 0 time to be worrying about how could he make everything more smooth, he just had to get shit done before letting Frank in, not be loosing time and making everything seem more weird and suspicious than it already was.

He climbed onto the bed and sat right next to the girl, that even with the noisy environment around them seem to still be sleeping soundly and in peace, like a baby. He felt bad. He didn’t want to be bothering her after he brought her here, he didn’t want her to be freaking out or worrying on why he was doing this shit. He didn’t want to do this now. It was hard to get himself to explain the situation when it was this sudden and this inconvenient.

Either way, he would end up looking like an asshole no matter what he said, he knew that already.

“Hello there” he mumbled quietly, leaning into to shake her body slightly in an attempt to wake her up gently. “Wakey Wakey” he mumbled, shaking her gently a couple of times in an attempt of waking her up.

Good thing of living for so many years with a girl, he knew he would be expecting two things when waking a girl up: one, a pacific and quite behaviour, and two, a very angry one he shouldn’t question much. He already knew how to manage both situations, so he felt pretty lucky, it made the job a lot easier.

The girl stored on the bed just a couple seconds later, he felt grateful that she actually woke up quickly. She opened one eye and looked at him, closed it again, sighed, opened both eyes with a lot of effort and smiled at him a beautiful smile.

She was in a good mood. Good.

“Hey, you” she mumbled, smiling at him as she leaned on her elbows. “What’s up?”

“I am so sorry” he instantly mumbled, before saying anything else “but can you please come with me for a second?” He rushed, leaning in to grab a shirt from his side of the bed and passing it to her without giving much context.

She frowned, clearly feeling concerned by his behaviour and sensing something was off. He didn’t want to be throwing her off like this, but he had no other option, he had to present things with honestly to evict confusions, the situation was already pretty stupid, he didn’t want to make it worst.

“What’s going on?” She asked as she grabbed the shirt without saying much and slid it over her head.

“My girlfriend’s cousin, if he sees i’m with someone he’ll probably choke me, so, It’ll just be a minute, stay there” He explained, grabbing her hand and leading her to the bathroom that was only a couple steps away from his bedroom. “Stay here, It’ll be quick, I promise”

“Girlfriend? Excuse me?” She asked, frowning as she looked up at him, not looking very happy about his statement.

“Ex!” he corrected himself once he noticed all the nonsense that came out of his mouth “ “It’s complicated, sorry, I forget, I just- Ah, one minute”

He didn’t think he could babble this much until all the words finally left his mouth, whoever this girl was, she didn’t look convinced enough, and he could only blame himself for being so bad at speaking and producing, but he could only hoped she cooperated with him, because otherwise it would have been a very uncomfortable situation.

“Sure” she narrowed her eyes, sat down on the toilet seat and crossed her leg over the other “but you own me breakfast”

He let out a deep sigh. “Thank you” he said with honest words, moving forward and closing the door.

That was easier than he thought, he thought, some others might as well put up a fight, but this seemed pretty reasonable, that was good. One less thing to solve on the list, now he had to deal with the most obvious one, the one that worried him the most.

He looked down.

His boner, it was showing, it wasn’t hiding. This was not normal.

It was too painful and noticeable, sweatpants were not working as well as they usually did in other situation, this time was odd and very out of hand, he didn’t know why, but he just… couldn’t relax, and it showed, it was embarrassing. He didn’t even know why he was like this, it usually happened, but he could manage this kinds of things easily.

Why was it not working?

Why didn’t it go down?

“I don’t have all day!” he heard Frank’s voice yell from outside.

He could have sworn something in his head had blown off the moment he heard that. It was like everything was happening at the same time and he just couldn’t think, maybe because it was too early, or how strange he felt, but his head wasn’t really working right and he was… sweating, he didn’t know why he felt like this, it was weird.

He ran to his front door, wanting to get this all of the way already and letting Frank in the apartment. He didn’t even care about his little (big) problem, he just wanted to kick some stones out of the way so he could be left alone and try to figure what the hell he could do to stop feeling so weird, but having other people around him while this happened was stressing him out, and he was sure this didn’t help the situation in any way.

“Sorry, come in” he apologized, letting Frank inside his home and moving aside, giving him the greenlight to make himself at home.

He knew Frank knew that he was onto something, because the moment he stepped in the apartment the look he shot his way and burned him alive was not very discreet, in fact, he could have sworn it was completely intentional, to make him feel bad on purpose for acting so weird, but that wasn’t his fault, it was just… the timing, it was completely wrong for everything.

“Tessa’s out” Frank pointed out, looking down and waking into the living room, like it was usual.

Tessa.

He completely forgot about moving Tessa somewhere else.

Good thing she knew him already, because she was running around and jumping at the sight of his presence, so it was a good thing. At least she wasn’t going to bark because there was a stranger inside his house or something.

“Yeah” he sighed deeply “it’s just-”

“Oof, boy, calm down” Frank sighed, interrupting him completely and making him stop in place at such a gesture.

He didn’t even need to ask, he was already blushing.

Frank laughed at him shamelessly as he leaned in to caress Tessa’s head and at the same time looked over at Tom’s pants, that were obviously showing too much and he couldn’t do anything about it. Frank found it hilarious for some reason, and didn’t even try to mask the fact that it was there and he was looking at it, he was such an open person that he didn’t even mind acknowledging its presence openly, and that was so embarrassing. This was embarrassing.

He couldn’t believe this was even happening.

“I hope that’s not me, I’m taken” Frank laughed, standing up straight as he shamelessly stared at him, laughed some more and shook his head at the joke of the year.

And he couldn’t calm down, not even now.

“No- no, no, no, no, no” Tom stuttered right away, shaking his head and finding it hard to speak. “I’m into other things”

Frank laughed. “Oh boy, don’t I know that already” he let out, took a step forward and palmed his back twice. “just, uh, I’ve got class, if you don’t mind, where’s the closet?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in question and showing him a small smile.

Tom pressed his lips together. Almost wanting to give an explanation before he went in to whatever he had to do, but something inside of him told him maybe that wouldn’t be a good idea, maybe it was better to shut up and let it pass.

He would do that, he didn’t know what else was viable, anyway. So he shut his mouth, closed his eyes and pointing towards his room, silently giving Frank permission to go over there and get whatever he needed.

“Merci” He thanked, palming his back again and walking directly to his room.

Something inside of him told him that maybe it would be a good idea just to stay back and let him look for whatever he needed inside of his room. The other part of him thought of that girl, just sitting there inside of his bathroom and waiting for a green light to come out, and feared that Frank would cross paths with her at some point. The other part of him (deep down) thought: maybe it would be nice to go an have a talk with Frank, after all, he thought if there was anyone who knew about his girlfriend’s state, that was him, he knew her better than anyone in the world, he must know what is going on inside her head most of the time. He was dying to know what she was up to and how she felt, maybe it was that time to have that conversation and he should go ahead and ask him.

Now, now is the time.

It was the smartest thing he could think of at the moment, going up there with Frank would assure him two things: making sure he wouldn’t go anywhere he didn’t need to, and talk to Tom about (Y/n). In his head it seemed like a good plan, so he would carry on with it.

With nothing else to say or do, he just went up to his room right after Frank. He walked slowly and discretely, following his steps until he made it into his room and set up the suitcase in front of the giant closet before him. Tom just sat down on his side of the bed, looked down at his lap and took in the deep silence that was summoned in the room. He just sat down in there and shut his mouth, it was hard to bring himself to say anything when he couldn’t even think straight, all he could do was sit there and watch him move around his bedroom with freedom, like he was specifically instructed where to look and how to move around, because he clearly was, and he seemed to remember every detail.

The silence was so pure and dense you could cut it with a knife, none of them had anything to bring up into a conversation, and there was some clear tension above them that wasn’t letting any of them act like they used to do when everything was in peace. At least on Tom’s side, he didn’t really feel capable of bringing something into the table, something over them was winning and intimidating him to the point of keeping him silent, it was very unusual, but it was happening, and it was the reality of things they were facing.

But even when Tom wanted to get some words out of him, he just couldn’t, because he couldn’t think. That suffocating pressure inside of him was so annoying and exhausting that not only was he sweating but he was also finding it difficult to be coherent with himself and what he’d like to say. He didn’t want to seem like a fool after that weird encounter, especially with the record he was already creating for himself; he wanted to have a descent conversation with Frank, someone who was so close to get and was also the most honest person that inhabited this planet, it was a big deal, he didn’t want to fuck up. He had to keep is head clear and relax in order to produce a decent conversation… he just had to relax.

He breathed in...and then out.

In, then out.

In, out.

In…

It was not working, it was not even helping in the slightest bit. He didn’t know what was happening. He was starting to feel something was seriously wrong, and he couldn’t get his finger on what exactly was doing this effect on him.

Last night was pretty much blurry, if he could only remember...

“Why didn’t she come here herself?” he found himself saying out of the blue, breaking the ice from all sudden and just getting words out of his mouth just like so.

This was one of those times when he would feel like something bigger than himself and that was looking down at him was writing down his words and making him say them out and clear, like he was an actor on his own life, and he had to recite everything that he was told to, in order to get to places and situations. He didn’t know how he got himself to say that, but he did, he walking into sketchy conversation easier than he thought he could.

“Because she doesn’t want to see you, genius” Frank mumbled, getting a couple of clothing items in his hands and leaving them over the bed “Also, she’s busy, she wasn’t going to waste her time coming here”

“Oh” he mumbled, looking down at his hands as he said. “I mean, I wouldn’t have mind...” he spoke, a nervous chuckle escaping from his lips as the words left his mouth.

“Yeah, but she kinds of wants you to be out of her perimeter” Frank explained, looking at him and shrugging. “I don’t know if you understand it”

Somehow it seemed like Frank tried to paint a picture to a little boy in order to understand a situation.

He was not in any way a little boy, and he understood this situation to perfection. He created it after all, he knew exactly what was going on and how he was standing in this whole deal. The least he could do was try to make things right and care while they were dealing with this, he didn’t want to be the bad person between them, and he didn’t want to know she was doing bad, because he loves her and all he wants for her is the best of the best. He just wanted to know how she were, that was all, at least in the slightest bit, he wanted to care for her in everything he could.

“Is she really mad?” he asked quietly, not bothing to look up at Frank at any moment.

He heard him hiss at his question.

“She said you’d ask” he mentioned, being careful with his tone as he kept digging in the closet. “and I should be saying that she hates your guts, but that’s not true, I should also be saying, she’s much better alone, but she’s a nerve wreck and I am not a liar, and I also should be saying, you should really go relax because this is getting creepy and I’m oddly feeling the need of getting out before I see myself involved in this” he said, now turning his tone into a more confident tone as the conversation scaled.

It was hard for Tom to focus from one point of the conversation to another. When he looked up at Frank, he noticed he was looking at him with a teasing smile, almost trying not to laugh at him, and made him turn his attention back to the problem inside of his pants, that even when he wished for it to not exist at the moment, it was there interrupting the situation in the worst way possible.

It was making it impossible to have a normal conversation.

“You’re extremely attractive, by the way” Frank mentioned, winking at him and going back to his businness.

He sensed that maybe all this teasing and mentioning the obvious in the conversation was only done on propose to annoy him, and it was, but not in a bad way, not in a good way either. He just found himself conflicted to maintain a normal environment while being like this the entire time.

“I am relaxed, Frank” he made clear, reaching out to grab a pillow to cover himself. “Just-“ he tried to say, signaling him to turn around and continue doing whatever he had to do.

“Okay. okay” Frank raised both arms, turning around as he was told to and not saying anything else “she specifically asked for her yellow hoodie, and I see… anything but that, where is it?” he asked, looking around, as he grabbed more things from the cabinets. “Geez, how many clothes does she have? This is too much, now I get why you have two closets, How did you allow this nightmare?”

For some reason Tom found himself chuckling at that question. It was a very good one.

“I bring her hoodies from everywhere I go, we always collect a thing or two from around, mine is just as big and we have space, it’s a win-win” he shortly explain, shrugging as he looked back at the big closet in front of him. It was true that maybe their closet was a bit too big for only the two of us, but for them it was the right amount of space for them to store the best memories and things they could found joy on.

Clothing was one of their common joy, along other things, but this was one of the most meaningful for both of them.

“This is impossible, I’m just taking the important things” Frank sighed, taking a couple more things from one cabinet, as he turned to look over his shoulder and muttered. “Hoodie?”

Tom nodded. “That’d be on my side, last one” he pointed towards the left door and allowed him to continue. “you might want to take the black skirt that’s right under it, or the jeans” he mentioned, just putting the fact out there and letting him decide.

“Why?” Frank asked, in a bit of a confused tone, but still following his instructions.

Tom shrugged. “I don’t know, she looks cute when she wears it all together” he mentioned shyly “I like it on her”

“Right”

Maybe it was stupid to say so, but he had to admit that he would miss seeing her throw that specific set of clothing on her in the mornings, right before leaving for school and he also had to leave for anything he had for the day, he would miss those moments. It was the little things around him that made him miss having her around, maybe this was one of them, and seeing that Frank was picking up so many memories didn’t make him feel any better, in fact, he was feeling very nostalgic right now.

It was really happening, he thought, she was leaving, she was picking her things. She could leave for real.

He took a moment to watch Frank collect everything he was commanded to from the floor and close the closets door as he packed everything inside of that suitcase. He took a peak at her side of the closet while it was still open, a lot of her things were still there, good, but she was slowly getting everything back to her, and it felt weird, it was like slowly he was becoming more alone that he ever expected.

As Frank finished collecting everything inside of the case, he grabbed it in both hands and placed it up in the bed while it was still open, revealing all of the unorganized pieces of clothing he just grabbed, all placed everywhere and ready to go. It was a shame just to look at that, he never thought he would even be staring at this, so soon.

“Sorry for the mess, but this is quicker” Frank excused himself, standing in front of the suitcase laying on the bed and starting for fold everything in, so it would be more or less organized.

Tom waved a hand, not minding it at all. He didn’t mind about him some extra couple minutes to organize himself, after all, he was just doing a small part of the job, this was only a little piece of work.

“So…” Frank mumbled, as he grabbed the yellow hoodie and held it between is hands “Are you going to tell me why is it still standing, or not?”

Tom pressed his lips together.

Apparently he was not going to be able to have a normal conversation until that topic wasn’t covered. Frank was either evading the topic, or just trying to embarass him more than he already was.

He didn’t even care anymore, he wanted this topic to be over, not be asked about it again for the rest of the morning, if it was even possible.

“Because I can’t relax and you’re here, give me a break” He groaned under his breath, not finding any other good explanation, mostly because there wasn’t one.

Frank laughed. “You’re straight, why would my presence prolonge your erection?”

“Because I took a pill and now it doesn’t want to go down”

Suddenly it all made sense.

Suddenly he remembered all of it.

Now that is what was happening.

The human mind was incredible. He couldn’t remember about that fact just as easily as that, but his mind just popped that memory out of nothing and now he was regretting every single part of his decisions. All of them.

Suddenly he was able to remember how Harrison was inviting him out last night, how they were drinking and having a good time, and he told him before he left the bar the trustiness of the effects of that blue pill, and how it turned a good night into a better night from one moment to another.

He remembered to be drunk enough to accept that stupid proposal. Stupid.

He couldn’t even believe he was up to that. He was such an idiot.

“You’re kidding” Frank scoffed, stopping in place.

“I wish”

There was no doubt that she will be hearing about this story once he confessed it all, but it was the sad truth of this situation, it was really happening. He felt very ashamed.

“Say no more!” Frank yelled, covering his mouth with two hands as he laughed at his small confession, apparently finding it to be the best joke he’s heard in the entire day “That’s on you, oh man”

“It’s not supposed to do this!” Tom argued, pointing at the problem, suddenly feeling completely frustrated.

“Thomas” Frank stopped him, taking a moment to sit on the bed and look at him with the small bit of seriousness still left on him. “I don’t want to be a pain in the ass, or put my nose in your business, but you do know that Viagra is only supposed to be given if necessary, right?” he asked, again, acting like if this was a joke and holding a laugh. “And I don’t think you need it, I know that from facts”

Tom couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “I know, I know...” he mumbled.

“Then how...”

“Harrison told me it would only last a couple of hours and that it made you more... energetic” he tried to explain, as if that was reasonable enough, or even valid. “I didn’t thought I would wake up like this”

Frank rolled his eyes harder than he could ever do it, that is when he knew he was too innocent to handle something like Viagra, he was a kid trapped in the body of a 23-year old adult, he didn’t know about life, he was naive enough to think that would make sex better for him, like if he needed that at all.

Stupid.

“Bro, Morning woods, it’s normal; if the drug is still on your blood you can’t do much, you are the problem in this equation” Frank explained, moving over to keep organising the case as he kept speaking. ‘How many?” he asked, clearly examining the situation.

Tom tried to remember well… Remember if he wasn’t having some kind of overdose for being an idiot.

“One” he mentioned quietly.

“Okay, an hour before?” Frank asked.

“Right before the act”

The biggest laugh left Frank lips after he spoke.

Tom wasn’t sure if he was enjoying this or not, on his side, this was not even funny, but apparently after being an idiot and having a bad time, people laugh at you, and they enjoy it, it’s like revenge.

“You idiot! you haven’t drain it, at all, your penis could literally fall off from that shit!” he exclaimed, laughing even more as he spoke. Tom hands went cold and he turned to look at him.

Did he just say....

“I’m kidding, actually, it’s not that dangerous on a normal dose” Frank said, after finishing his stupid (and not funny) joke. Tom was really stressing himself over this. “How was it anyways?” Frank asked raising his brow.

He wished he could explain it clearly, but he couldn’t remember how it was exactly. He remember feeling normal, and then, a couple minutes after, feeling like a rush was going through his body for a specific amount of time, his heart beating, his body telling him to move. He didn’t know. It was a mix of thing, he couldn’t get a grip on any specific detail.

“Weird” he explained, trying to be clear. “You’re chill one second and the other is like... like the shot of adrenaline you’ve never had” he remembered, trying to bring back to his mind that weird memory… but he could only gather bits and pieces.

“Dear god” Frank hissed at that story. “Geez, my balls hurt just from hearing that, oh man”

Tom couldn’t help but glance at him for a second. If that was supposed to be some moral support, it really wasn’t helping…

“You’re a nurse, aren’t you?” he asked, once that fact came to mind “How do I… you know”

It was only wise to ask something like that, because he didn’t want to be hearing later that the only thing he could think of doing was the one thing he wasn’t supposed to do. He just wanted to make sure. He’s never been or heard of any horror stories from this, so he might as well ask someone who might have some notion on the human body, before he got into places he couldn’t control.

“There’s only one way out, buddy, you know it already” Frank reminded him with a smile.

“Meditate, relax, let it out”

Nothing he didn’t know already. Good to hear, but at the same time, very weird.

“Thank you” he nodded his way, offering his smile as a small thank you.

Frank nodded back. “I think I’m done” Frank stated, staffing all the clothes on top of the case and pressing them in, closing it quickly as he said. “Thanks for making my day, and also, have a nice meditation” he winked, pulling the case his way and walking back.

He didn’t even give Tom any time to say anything else, he just grabbed what he needed and made his way out, leaving him with one half covered topic and a couple questions still unanswered, questions that he needed to get over with before going on with his day. He could just be left like that, he needed answers.

“Hey, Frank! Hold on” he exclaimed, jumping off from his bed, following Frank before he could leave his bedroom and stopping him in place.

He needed to get things clear between them.

“Yes?” Frank mumbled, in a bored tone.

Tom stopped for a second, not really finding the right words to say to get out of this situation.

“Can you give me advice?” He asked softly, trying to be delicate with the situation and as reasonable as possible.

“On what? Exactly, I’m getting creeped out again” Frank mumbled, standing up straight.

“Well” Tom sighed, trying to find the right way to say it “Leaving this aside and all that just happened” he started. “How is she? How is she doing? Do you think it’ll be a good time to call her soon?”

Maybe those were a lot of questions at the same time, but it was really everything that was on his mind, he felt like maybe it was right to leave it out there, before it was too late.

“What for?” Frank asked, now in a serious tone.

Tom shrugged, now really starting to get nervous. “Talking, catching up, you know” he explained shortly. “I don’t know if you know about the other night, I feel like too many things were said and maybe now we aren’t on the best terms...”

“Uh huh” Frank nodded, listening carefully to his vague explanation.

“I know she’s probably busy, can’t blame her, I’ll be busy too in a couple of days, but what’s on my mind is... do you think maybe I should call her or something? Before I left town” he asked, hoping to be careful enough to get a yes for an answer.

Deep down he hoped he would, even when it was very idealistic.

“What. For?” Frank asked again, being more harsh with his words.

Tom went speechless at the hardness of his words, he didn’t know how to answer that politely, so he didn’t, he sensed that he might have asked things he shouldn’t have, and now he was being told off for it.

He couldn’t have said anything else to elaborate on his question, because right when he was about to speak, Frank stood up straight, looking taller and more serious, making him shut up without saying a word.

“Listen, she starts working tomorrow, she is nervous, saturated with things to do, and over the moon for this shit; over my dead body you’re going to step in and mess up her mind, right when she’s one step ahead of a nervous breakdown” he warned, sounding calm but at the same time making his warning clear like water.

Tom sighed. “Mate, I’m worried, I want to know what she’s doing, last time we saw each other we argued, I feel terrible” he excused.

Frank scoffed. “You did this, I’m just representing her side of this break, If you expect me to tell you you’re allowed to call her, I’m sorry, but you’re not” he stated, starting to walk out, but Tom stopped him.

He couldn’t leave yet.

“I can call her now if I fucking want” Tom let him know, just making that clear.

“Yeah, right” Frank warned, taking a step (and just a step) towards him. “Hear me out, if you’re worry is you’re leaving town without saying goodbye, then fine, leave her a message or something, but make it short and sweet, buddy, I don’t want you to fill her in with your bullshit, she’s stressing enough and doesn’t want to hear from you, at all: It’s not a good mix” he mentioned, very quietly “but if what you want is fix things, right now, then go take a fucking walk, because if I hear your voice, hear that you spoke to her or see you coming anywhere near her perimeter, I’m going to punch your bloody face so hard, I’m going to break your pretty nose and I’m going to feel better than ever, I don’t even care; and I don’t care how much it’s worth or who’s going to sew me, I’m warning you now, you come near her and you’re toast” he warned, being very clear as he whispered. “I used to box, do I need to say more?”

Tom gulped.

He could have sworn his veins went cold from hearing that, it was seriously intimidating. He feared that it might be true and not just something to scare him off.

Frank didn’t offer joke about things like this.

“Then, when it will be a good time?” Tom asked quietly.

“Oh gosh, ask yourself that, how many girls will you be able to fuck before my cousin makes some time in her precious agenda, so she can hear your bullshit... hm...” Frank said sarcastically, making his way to the front door. “You have my number, when your head is clear, you can call me” he mentioned, opening the door and mumbling “Au revoir, handsome”

Tom closed his eyes, his voice was hard and completely serious, he just couldn’t believe he has come to a moment when someone like Frank would speak to him like this.

He was just left standing in the middle of his apartment, speechless and blank, not being able to anything else but to pity himself and be left alone, like it was now usual. Because he was alone, and he couldn’t help but to feel terrible about it.

And he couldn’t even ask about her… his girl.

Turning his head to the side, he was able to see the girl he invited in peeking her head through the bathroom door and looking for him, waiting for an answer. He almost forgot about her, if he was honest. She was his company for the night, and he almost forgot about her… he was terrible.

“Sorry, that was my ex’s cousin, it’s all clear” he excused, walking back to his room as quickly as he could and going to attend the half naked girl inside of his bedroom.

He wanted to be a good host, at least.

“No worries” she chuckled. “Do you happen to have an Advil? My head is messed up” she asked, reaching down to grab his dress from the bedroom floor and sliding it over her head.

“Yes, of course” he nodded, walking straight to his nightstand and going to pick a couple of those.

If there was one good drug he kept with him, that was Advil. It helped with everything, unlike other things… the least he could do for that girl was to offer her one.

“I think you left your phone in the bathroom, it’s ringing” she said shyly, walking towards him slowly and handing it to him.

He frowned for a second, looked back at his nightstand and realized that, in fact, his phone wasn’t there and he never noticed. It must have been silenced.

“Thank you” he smiled softly, passing her the small pill and taking the phone in return.

At first he thought it must have been Frank the one who has been blowing his phone off with calls, since apparently he was the one to think it would be a good idea to show up at his home so early, but once he checked his message, he was able to realize a couple of things he wasn’t aware of before. One, his phone was indeed blown off with messages, and number two, it wasn’t Frank, but his parents calling, and it seemed to be like he was forgetting something, and not only that, he apparently was already late, like he was for everything.

It wasn’t even a surprise, he already felt terrible about it.

Golfing day, it was the family golfing day.

And he forgot… Idiot.

“I’m so sorry” Tom spoke softly, directly referring to the girl as he said. “it was a good time but I have to ask you to leave, sorry, Lori” he mumbled.

He didn’t want to know how he was able to remember her name. He just wanted her out.

“Lola” she corrected him softly.

“Yes, sorry” he snapped out of it, turning to her and trying for once to be polite. “Taxi, do you need a taxi? Here’s some cash for the taxi, and breakfast; sorry for the bathroom thing” he spoke quickly, taking a couple bills from his nightstand and handing it to her without a single hesitation.

Again, he didn’t know what he was doing, he just wanted her out.

“No need and no worries” she chuckled nervously, sensing the weird environment around the room. “I live across the street, don’t worry” she shrugged, picking up her thinks as she asked. “Are you alright?”

“No” he simply answered, shrugging her way and looking away from where she was. “Close the door when you’re out”

Somehow, she felt like it was her responsibility to make that question; but just like it was her responsibility, he felt like it was his responsibility to be honest with her, and he would be, because he didn’t feel like covering things up with lies and just wanted to be left alone. As easy as that.

He heard her sigh.

“Thank you, by the way, it was a great night” he thanked her softly, before she would think otherwise.

“Thank you, hottie” he heard her mumble, as she stepped back. “see you around”

It was only a matter of time until he was left alone again. He took a moment just to stay there and wait to hear the door close behind her until he was completely alone inside of his apartment. Like always.

A million thoughts ran inside of his head, and none of them were any good. After what he did, after what he has said, he just felt like the worst person in the world, at least for his girl, he felt like the worst person in her life, and he didn’t like that. He felt alone, and terrible… it’s been a while since he’s felt like this. He deserved it.

No matter what just happened, he just had to deal with his misery.

Today he had to do what he always did, what he lived for. He had to put on a happy face and pretend. It was what he did best, and today was not exception.

Maybe with that he will believe he wasn’t this alone, but it would be a lie… just like all of the things he’s learn to say so easily.

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