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lozzypoz321 · 3 years

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Word count: 2.2k

A/N: I’m so sorry I haven’t posted in so long!!! But I am quite surprised that my current 200 followers (wow) haven’t unfollowed by now but this is my 200 celebration fic even though I’m a bit late- also I’m sorry if this sucks I just haven’t written in ages! Please bare with me! Kindly proofread by @canadianhufflepuffavenger 💗

Warnings: angst, past break up

Your real dad

Steve tightened his grip around your draw-string bag that he had convinced you to part ways with, as you, him and your mother made your way into the tower. He was dreading the reunion with Bucky after not seeing the team for about 2 weeks. You were practically bouncing on your feet to see your real dad. While Steve was there watching you treat your dad like a hero but not even spare him a glance.

Your family relationship was complicated yet simple at the same time: you hated your mom but tolerated her, loved your dad with all your heart, hated your stepdad as much as he tried, treated Peter like your brother and Thor exactly like your uncle.

Why did you hate your stepdad so much?

Well, first of all, he pretended like he was your real dad and tried to do all of the things with you that you and Bucky did together. Second, he always stole all your moms attention and made you feel like you were alone (whether he meant it or not)

The elevator door dinged, indicating that the three of you had reached your floor where currently Bucky, Thor, Tony, Natasha and Sam were hanging out, waiting for your “family”. The others were in the kitchen, trying to get a sneak taste of the food that had been ordered.

“Dad!” You yelled and raced up to the super soldier, he broke out into a grin and picked you up off the ground to invade you into a bone-breakinghug. “Hiya doll face.”

You grinned back at him and got down from his arms briefly to run across the room to retrieve your drawstring back so you could show your dad your new spiderman action figure that had been bought by your cousin Peter.

“Look! Look!”

He smirked slightly at your excited demeanour as you held up the toy as high as you could while jumping up and down for him to see. Once he’d figured out who the character was, you had already gone running off to see what Wanda and Vision had baked in one of the many kitchens.

“Hey Buck” Steve acknowledged as friendly as he could, it wasn’t that the two ‘friends’ hated each other, but there was definitely some tension in the room as the two sat parallel. Tony cleared his throat and mentioned something about having a cough as he quickly left the room.

“I better see where he got off to” Natasha and your mother said at exactly the same time, not wanting to experience what they thought was about to go down.

“Hi Steve” the older soldier greeted back, not sure what the intentions of the conversation were exactly. In the tower, the history between both soldiers and your mother was known but not really spoke of- Bucky dated your mother for quite a while (almost four entire years), and got her pregnant with you, but- as everybody was sure to know- all good things must come to an end- and the two broke up on good terms. That was before Steve Rogers himself got involved at a certain billionaire’s party when they realized they were (and this is in your mother's words) “meant for each other.”

“I’m erm, here to speak to you about something.” As if the awkwardness present in the room was no longer enough before, by now it was almost too much. Thor and Sam took the most obvious hint and left the room in search of something else to occupy their time.

“Well, you’re free to speak-“ Bucky was interrupted by the loud sound of laughing from behind the wooden door and almost instantly after a hushing sound. The two men had completely different reactions to this, Steve was utmostly confused, both eyebrows scrunching together, while Bucky’s face held a small smile. He knew exactly who was trying to eavesdrop and it just proved how much Steve did not know his stepdaughter from the fact he didn’t immediately know. “(Y/N),” he called out, the humour evident in his voice, “Parker, we know you're out there.”

“Awww, Peter you gave our secret identities up!”

By now Steve had caught on to the two of you and laughed lightly, trying to cover up the fact that his only chance to ask Bucky his question alone, was interrupted.

The wooden door creaked open, revealing Peter, dressed up in his spiderman suit for dramatic effect and you with a bandana on, which you thought made you look like a ninja and you held your action figure tightly in your left hand.

“(Y/N), you know it’s rude to eavesdrop” Steve scolded you, trying to be firm. You ignored him and shrugged your shoulders before going to follow the scent of Chinese food.

“Doll,” your dad stopped you “don’t ignore people, you know not to do that” he stood up from his spot on the sofa and began to also make his way to the kitchen, you right beside him muttering a small “okay dad.”

Steve tried not to let his heart sink as his best friend walked away. He would just have to try and get Bucky alone at another point in the night. If he didn’t get an answer, then he would have no use for the small box that was sitting in his trouser pocket.

“Bonjour,” Clint greeted the two of you as you both arrived for food, the island set up with enough plastic plates for everyone (Tony couldn’t be bothered with hiring people to wash normal, expensive ones multiple times a day)

Your mother smiled at you from the other side of the kitchen, but she was immediately confused when you didn’t smile back. The reason you had not, is because you had a feeling you knew exactly what question your stepdad had for Bucky and did not at all like the sound of it.

“Fries?” Bruce offered, tilting the box of food towards you. You nodded gratefully and grabbed a handful. The conversations at the table were mixed; Thor ranting passionately about the food at his home planet, Tony mumbling something about not even being hungry anyway (you thought he was just being salty since he didn’t get his Shawarma), Bucky and Sam having a silent argument across the table, and Peter was busy singing Christmas songs in his best Santa Claus voice.

“Have a holly jolly Christmas, and in case you didn’t seeeee” Natasha rolled her eyes dramatically at the teenager making everyone laugh.

“Hey don’t get annoyed at me! Everyone loves Christmas!”

You used to love Christmas before your parents separated and you weren’t allowed to spend the holiday with your dad.

“I don’t like Christmas,” your dad shrugged half mindedly while taking a sip of his soda. Peter looked at him like he had two heads and exclaimed in shock, “that impossible!”

“It ain’t kid,” Bucky chuckled while your mother shifted in her seat uncomfortably, realizing the reasoning.

While you worked your way through the pile of noodles, Thor’s incessant ranting came to an end, and the teenager had seemingly run out of songs, the group of superheroes decided to hang out in the living room and watch a movie before you, Steve and your mother had to go home.

“Which one?” Nat asked the room while holding up two movies, the nightmare before Christmas and the corpse bride. Both Halloween movies, neither particularly scary.

“How could one have a nightmare on the day before Christmas? Surely that is against the rules of the Holiday Christmas, that is based on happiness?” Thor asked, earning a quizzical look from you. “Stop tryna act like Shakespeare big man” Tony laughed while grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoving it all into his mouth.

Steve ignored the billionaire, and while no one seemed to be paying attention he directed his attention to Bucky, swallowing nervously. “Hey Buck, can I speak to you for a sec outside?”

Confusion spread over the soldier’s face for a split second before complying and getting up from the couch with Steve as discreetly as possible as to not raise suspicion from the rest of the team and you.

“What’s up?” He asked once they’d reached the hallway outside, he didn’t know what was up with the younger man but he could easily tell that he’d been acting nervous around himself and your mom.

“Um, I have a question, you don’t have to say yes or no or anything-“

“Your ranting.”

He stopped and thought for a second, wondering how to put it. “I know it’s been complicated recently, and I know this might make it worse with all your history with (Y/M/N) and (Y/N) but I really do love both of them and since (Y/M/N)’s parents passed a while ago, there’s no one to really ask for their blessing so I guess I’m here to ask you, can I have your blessing to propose to (Y/M/N)?”

Bucky stood emotionless for a second, not knowing how to react. He wasn’t sure whether to be happy for Steve and support him or to be angry. He had both reasonable attributes for each option but was cut short when he heard the sound of a door banging against its hinges on the floor above.

Both of your dad’s eyebrows scrunched together, who was that? Everyone in the tower knew not to do it because Tony despised it, and everyone with a brain knew that when Tony got annoyed, bad things happened.

Then almost instantly after the door entering the living room revealing an awkward Loki “I’m sorry to interrupt this conversation but your daughter slash stepdaughter, just ran upstairs in tears so if you could quickly wrap this little moment up, it would be greatly appreciated”

Bucky’s heart stopped, why were you crying?

He and Steve completely forgot about their previous conversation and quickly headed upstairs, nearly running Peter over in the process coming from the toilet. But just as they reached the door where you normally stayed when you came for sleepovers, Bucky stopped and put a finger to his lips.

“I think I should go in.” Instead of arguing, and saying that it would be good ‘bonding time’ to get you to like him, Steve silently agreed and let your dad go in.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he gently closed the door behind himself, instantly catching sight of you sat on the carpeted floor, furiously wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie.

“Hey, hey, don’t hurt yourself,” he took ahold of both of your wrists and set them down on your lap, “why’re you crying doll?”

Tears continued to stream unapologetically down your cheeks, you didn’t know how to tell him. That you had snuck out of the living room to see where the two had gone and then eavesdropped into their conversation, and once hearing your stepdad (who you did not like at all) was going to become a permanent part of your life, ran off crying.

“I don’t wanna talk about it” you shook your head, making him sigh. “Please tell me, I wanna know why. You trust me right (Y/N)?”

The simple nod was all he needed, yet his heart still ached. Seeing his only daughter in tears and didn’t trust him enough to tell him why? It was heartbreaking for him. “I don’t want him to marry mom,” you quietly admitted, “the only reason I’m still allowed to see you is because she thinks I still need a father figure, so now he’s gonna be here forever I won’t be- I won’t be able to see you anymore.”

He sighed deeply, trying to find a way to comfort you. “You will, I promise. I’ll always be apart of your life doll. No one can ever take you away from me because you're my daughter and I love you so so much, m’kay?”

You sniffled and wiped the final tears from your cheeks. “Okay.”

Before you could both get up and return downstairs to finish the movie, Bucky stopped you and lifted you up to whisper something to you.

Once he had finished you pulled back and nodded hesitantly, realizing that you should put your grudge behind you and face a fear.

Your dad and you returned outside, Steve waiting patiently while resting on the wall, gently smiling at you to make sure you were okay.

“Go on doll,” Bucky quietly urged, making you take a deep breath and just go for it.

“I give you my blessing to marry mom.” Steve’s heart skipped multiple beats as his brain tried to process what you had said. You’d finally accepted him into your life?

He broke out into a grin, trying to form words to thank you without seeming like this meant the absolute world to him. “Thank you (Y/N). I appreciate it so much.”

Bucky was proud of you for taking a leap and letting Steve into your life when you were scared. He realized at that moment that even if you did have a dad and a stepdad at the same time, he’d fulfilled his role already.

Taglist: @marvel-ous-hobbit @snarky--starky @rae-is-typing @stargazingfangirl18 @canadianhufflepuffavenger @herecomesthewriterwitch @every-marveler-ever @hera-the-writer @lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @rooskaya-yelena @deephideoutmilkshake @kidney9-9 @js3639 @am3l1a-24 @bonkybarnes107 @ilovemarvel-andcats @sapphireplums @deannawallacee @keenmarvellover @garbage-potato @mollbt @spookybooisa

#dad!bucky #bucky x daughter!reader #bucky x child!reader #steve x child!reader #steve rogers x daughter!reader #bucky barnes x daughter!reader #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #avengers x child!reader #avengers x platonic!reader #bucky x y/n

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wzrd-wheezes · 3 years

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Dumb Love - George Weasley x Reader

A/N : Hey!! I’m finally back. I’ve been super busy recently so heres a short lil fic just to get me back into the swing of posting again. Enjoy!

1.1k

Warnings: Mentions of food. Swearing.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @fredweasleypls @wand3ringr0s3@28cnn @weelittleweasley @parseltongueswriting@lumos-barnes @whizboyhalo @bolaurel @harrysweasleys @pxroxide-prinxcesss

“I’m just getting fed up, Freddie.” She rested her head in her hands and stared into the fire.

“He’ll click eventually,” Fred reassured her, “To say that he’s actually really clever, he’s a bit bloody dim sometimes.”

“You got a date to the ball yet, Georgie?” Fred asked as the group sat down for breakfast. He shook his head.

“I was going to ask Katie, but someone swooped in there before me,” he said, shooting a look at Lee.

“You snooze you lose,” Lee shrugged, “How about you Y/N? Any lucky lad asked you yet?”

“Nope,” she pushed the food around on her plate, “I’ll probably just go with Ange, I don’t think anyone has asked her yet either.” Fred glanced at the other two quickly.

“Sorry to ruin your plans but, erm, I asked her to go with me last night and she said yes.”

“Oh.” She replied, trying not to look disappointed that her best friend had got a date before her, “I’m not sure then.”

“I’m sure that one of the Durmstrang boys will ask you, Y/N,” said George sympathetically, “I don’t mind being your wingman,” he winked.

She didn’t want him to be her wingman. She wanted him to ask her. She had had a crush on George for a little while now and they were always closer than her and Fred were. They always seemed to be flirty with each other and George could be a bit touchy-feely sometimes.

“Why don’t you just ask him!” Angelina said as they were getting ready for bed that night.

“Because, Ange, if he says no because he doesn’t like me like that, then that’s four years of friendship gone down the drain.”

Angelina sat on her bed cross legged, looking at Y/N.

“I can tell Fred I can’t go with him anymore if you want. We can go just us two?”

“Merlin, no,” she sat down to face the other girl, “that’d break his heart.”

“Want me to have a word with him? I can ask Fred to drop some subtle hints?”

“Subtle?” Y/N laughed, “Fred is about as subtle as a brick!”

“Why don’t you drop some hints then?” Angelina said, raising an eyebrow at Y/N, “You know, be a bit more flirty or something.”

She tried. She tried and tried but George wasn’t catching on at all. It was a sunny afternoon and they were all sat in the Common Room when Angelina came bounding in.

“Hey, Y/N guess what!” she sat down on the sofa next to her, “I heard one of the Durmstrang boys talking about you earlier.” Angelina shot a look over at George as if to gauge his reaction.”

“Oh, really?” she asked, “which one?”

“Erm, short, dark hair,”

“Not really your type that, is it, Y/N?” Fred quizzed, giving her a knowing look, “I’ve heard that you’re more into taller blokes.” He cocked his head quickly towards George. Y/N looked over to Angelina, she must have told Fred.

“Well, someone tall narrows it down a bit doesn’t it?” George said, “Helps us with our search.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

A few weeks had passed since they had last spoken about the ball. Y/N and Angelina would speak about it occasionally and Ange would try and convince her to just ask him herself. To which Y/N would refuse immediately. She was running out of hope and it was only a matter of time before George went with someone else. Merlin, Y/N felt like anyone would be lucky to go with George. He was funny, intelligent, not to mention the fact that he was exceptionally attractive. She groaned and shook her head; she really did like him.

It was one afternoon when they were on their way to Quidditch practice that George brought up the Yule Ball again.

“Is there not anyone on the Quidditch team that takes your fancy, Y/N?” he asked her.

“Hmm, the Beaters are the only ones that are my type really,” she hinted, sneaking a glance at George. She was really laying it on thick now. He must have noticed.

“Oh, really?” he said, turning to look at her, “It’s a shame that Fred has already asked Angelina. Although I suppose there are the other houses Quidditch teams…” he trailed off. Y/N rolled her eyes so hard that she was sure they were going to roll into the back of her head. George couldn’t be this oblivious, could he?

“I’m afraid, Y/N,” Fred said when she recounted the story to him later on in the Common Room, “that you have picked the twin that doesn’t have the flirtatious charm that I do,” he waggled his eyebrows at her and chuckled.

“I’m just getting fed up, Freddie.” She rested her head in her hands and stared into the fire.

“He’ll click eventually,” Fred reassured her, “To say that he’s actually really clever, he’s a bit bloody dim sometimes.”

George and Lee joined them in the Common Room a little while later.

“Where have you two been,” Angelina asked, “You better not have been pestering those Beauxbatons girls again,”

“I didn’t pester,” George insisted, “I just got rejected. Numerous times.”

“It was a bit sad really,” said Lee, earning a dirty look from George, “On that note, I’m going to bed, I’ll see you all later!”

“Us too,” said Fred, getting up.

It was just Y/N and George left in the Common Room. The fire was still flickering and Y/N was still staring into it intensely trying to stop the tears falling.

“You okay?” George asked, “Sad about not finding a date to the ball yet?” Y/N nodded in response.

“I mean, I haven’t got a date either yet so I suppose we could always go together,” he shot her a hopeful look, but she didn’t catch it, “Nah, that would be weird wouldn’t it?”

Y/N let out a short laugh and George gave her a quizzical look. The tears had started to edge their way out of her eyes.

“Listen here you little shit,” she sobbed, smiling through her tears, “I really fucking like you and for the past few months I’ve-” George cut her off.

“Wait. You like me?”

“George, I’ve literally been flirting with you constantly for months now,” she wiped the tears off her face with her sleeve.

“Merlin, I thought you liked Fred.” George let out a sigh of relief.

“Fred?”

“Yeah, I mean, he’s the one that the girls normally like. But I thought that you liked him so I thought asking another girl to the ball would make me feel better because I couldn’t go with you,”

“But you just said you thought it would be weird if we went together,”

“I didn’t want to feel like you were only going with me because you couldn’t have Fred,”

“Bloody hell, Georgie. I like you. I have done for months now.”

“So, will you go with me to the ball, Y/N?” he asked, turning to face her and taking her hand in his.

“Of course I will.”

#george weasley #george wealsey fanfic #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #fred and george fanfic #fred and george #weasley twins #fred weasley #harry potter fanfic

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botanicials · 3 years

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wish this was the full part, but here is a sneak peak of falling in love at a coffee shop. the first few rough paragraphs. coming soon! littles will be posted until then ❣️

falling in love at a coffee shop

i. (sneak peak!)

October 13

The cold NYC wind is forgiving for once, all things considered. You had just spent your evening watching over seven sugar high eight-year-olds that had decided finger painting was the ideal after school activity. It was laborious at times and their parents probably weren’t too pleased, but the kids were happy.

Your phone is warm against your cheek as you walk, owing to the Disney Favorites playlist you were asked to play- and Eloise skipping nearly every song that wasn’t sung by Elsa or Moana. Your mother’s words are insistent in your ear: plane tickets, dinners, graduation details.

“It isn’t for another… what? Four months? We’ll figure it out.”

You hear your mother sigh. “I’d rather plan everything out now, the end of the year brings me enough stress as is.”

“It-“

“And what is it with your graduation ceremony being in January? Such an odd time. I mean, right after the holidays? Don’t they realize we might want a bit of a break?”

You laugh lightly at that, eyes spotting the familiar rusting sign hanging up ahead. “Um, has to do with my hours and the kids’ semester ending. I don’t know. Tickets should be cheaper, they usually are after Christmas.”

“Suppose that’s a positive.”

“Definitely a positive- I’ll call you later, I’m grabbing some food so I can hurry up and get home. There's an apron covered with paint in my bag and I’m convinced it’ll stain everything I have inside.”

You begin to unwrap your scarf from your neck as you near closer to the mahogany red door, turning to push it open with your side. “You put an apron covered in paint in your bag?” She sounds incredulous.

“It’s rolled, mom. I’ll call you later.” You repeat.

“Soon.” She says, and you hum before finally ending the call.

A gust of warm air hits the chilled skin of your face when you enter, along with the strong aroma of brewing coffee and a hint of vanilla. You move quickly to close the door behind you, not wanting to disturb anyone with the reality of what they’d have to endure once they leave.

“Welcome in.”

Your eyes follow over to the voice that called out, to catch him take a quick glance at you before turning to meet your eyes again.

He’s not much taller than the familiar college students that work here, but judging from his shoulders, his build is clearly much larger. Atop his wool baby blue sweater is a- definitely used -burgundy apron you’ve seen time and time again. Who you haven’t seen, however, is him.

Once his eyes flicker to the new customer in front of him and back to you, you realize that you’d completely ignored his greeting. And hadn’t moved from the door?

You find yourself sending a clumsy smile before moving across the hardwood floors to stand in line behind the short balding man repeating his order.

Your phone is in your hand a moment later, needing a distraction as to not ogle at the pretty green-eyed barista any longer. Your thumb instinctively lands on Instagram, as much as you wish it hadn’t.

A selfie of an old friend from high school.

A photo of someone’s newborn. The third you’d seen this month.

The conventional food flat lay.

You hear the man in front of you make a second order of two dozen bagels for a big meeting tomorrow morning. “Hoping for a promotion,” he says, a clear smile in his voice. You silently wish him the best. With bagels from Coldwell’s, he was bound to make a good impression.

You’ve been coming here since the beginning of your junior year, finding the cozy café to be a home away from home. You’d discovered it after moving out of your dorm, it was an unmistakable upgrade from the campus coffee shop you were forced to visit every morning.

Thick floor to ceiling windows on one wall, exposed brick and a menu on another; coupled with the bulbous string lights, numerous plants hanging from the ceiling and perched on shelves with the occasional vintage record.

There were unspoken sections inside; couches and low tables for group study sessions, a line of comfy booths along the back for brunches and dates, a few tables with mismatched wooden chairs for those who’d rather spend some time alone. It was always clean and well kept, and during Christmas, it smelled of nutmeg.

Depending on which barista had their phone connected to the speakers, the shop was either playing Spotify’s Chill Lofi Study Beats or smooth jazz, both welcomed by the regulars that filtered in day-to-day.

You hear the last drop of the bagel slicer when your phone buzzes faintly. Milo: We should go for breakfast one morning. When are you free? :) That message alone was enough for you to stuff your phone into your bag. Jesus Christ.

You watch the man’s scuffled loafers as he makes his way out, the arm free from two large boxes lifting to wish his barista a good night. Speaking of, he’s got a welcoming grin on his face when you step to the counter. There was no doubt he was recalling your odd entrance.

“Hello.”

His eyes are bright, they remind you of a dewy morning in a garden - and you wish you were in the right state of mind to watch him the way he was watching you. “Hi, um”, your eyes fly up to the menu as if you weren’t sure of exactly what you were getting. “Are you still selling those bottled fruit drinks? I usually get them in the morning.”

“The Pressed ones? Got a few in the back but I’ll grab one for you. What flavor?” You take a second to inwardly scold yourself for focusing too hard on the way he’d flavor, there was no second-guessing on whether he had an accent or not from moments ago.

“Blackberry,” you say, sending a small smile.

He taps at the screen of the POS, his lips tucked into his mouth as you reach into your bag for your wallet.

Not there. No. Not that pocket either.

You frown.

“So, a blackberry Pressed, anything else?”

Your head is nearly inside of your purse as you move your belongings around, cautious of smearing Crayola paint anywhere. “Please, a blueberry um...”, you flip the apron to stick out a bit and allow you more room to see, careful not to squeeze it too hard, “bagel?”

A beat of silence.

“You sure?”

Your head snaps back up to find the barista- Harry, his name tag reads, it suits him -smiling at you, teasing.

You laugh at yourself a bit before buttoning your bag closed. Your wallet was nowhere to be found; which would frighten you if you hadn’t already left it in the classroom twice this week. “Yes-. Yeah, sorry my brain is like, fried from studying.”

“No, yeah totally get it,” he says. Tot-ally.

You find yourself contemplating on whether you should tell him to completely scrap your order or give in and finally figure out how ApplePay works. He scratches at his chin. “Erm.. cream cheese?”

You have some at home. “No, thank you.”

He nods and you take a glance at the tiny hoop earring that catches in the overhead light as he does. You’re just about to resume digging in your bag to check one more time, when he surprises you by saying something that isn’t your total. “What are you majoring in?”

You readjust. “Education. I want to teach 3rd grade.”

“Do you?” His smile is wide and you notice the dimples that sink into his cheeks. Because of course, the guy has dimples.

His genuine happiness takes you by surprise and you laugh. “Yeah, I graduate this year. Well- hopefully. Still have to pass my finals.”

He’s still tapping at the POS- definitely taking much longer than normal, but you don’t mind. Thankfully you had nowhere to be for once.

“M’sure you’ll do great.” You smile, despite the fact that his eyes were still on the screen in front of him. “I um, I graduated just last year,” he looks up to see your eyebrows rise in question. “Film.”

“Film?” you repeat. “I.. Honestly, I can see that.” The earring, the eyes, his style. It made sense.

Tap. Tap. You catch the price going down.

“That because I’m working at a coffee shop?”

“That- What? No, no. I-“

He lets out a boyish giggle and shakes his head. “Only joking. That was a bit of a dig to us film majors, hm?”

“A little. It just makes sense,” you continue. “You look like a film major.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s a compliment,” you say, and his lips twist to fight a smile.

“I’ll take it,” he says, slipping a glove onto his left hand. Your eyes immediately take notice of the cross etched next to his thumb. “Total comes out to $3.21. I’ll go grab your-“

“You didn’t have to do that.” You’ve ordered this countless times, and though Anne let you have your things for free when no one else was around, it’s always come out to $6.78.

Harry only frowns, shaking his head. Don’t worry about it. “I’ll go grab your drink.”

“Sure. Thank you.”

The second he disappeared into the kitchen you’ve seen so little of, you quickly lift your wrist to try and figure out how this stupid watch worked.

You told yourself to test this out at some point, but you just haven’t had the time. The pad of your figure taps and swipes against the tiny screen, nothing screaming pay with me!

Not that app.

Not that one either.

Had you even set it up?

You hear the door smack lightly against the wall. “Alright here’s- oh,” Harry stumbles upon return, eyebrows drawn together. “Did the card not work? There’s a chip at the bottom-“

“No, I was- I left my wallet at work and I’m trying to..” You point at the card reader. “Does this have Apple Pay?”

His eyes flicker between your watch and the reader before nodding. “Yeah, you’ve just got to..” he leans over the counter a bit and his hand hovers over yours. “May I?”

With confirmation, his nimble fingers press lightly into the inside of your wrist, tilting it toward the reader. His touch is soft- he’s excessively gentle despite only adjusting your hand. He moves his thumb to double click a button on the side of your device, the palm of his hand brushing the side of yours.

The both of you look up at one another, eyes meeting in much closer proximity than any time tonight.

You can’t possibly pick up a guy at a coffee shop. Right?

Ding!

You look down at your wrist that’s still in his hold, your tiny screen now displaying a successful checkmark.

He swiftly pulls his hand away, the gloved one quickly grabbing your bagel as the other grabbed a waxed baggie. “Sorry-“

“No, thank you.” You can’t help but let out a clumsy laugh at the moment the two of you just shared. Silly, you think to yourself.

“To go, yeah?”

“Please.”

He smiles, eyes focused on the screen before the printer hums to life and begins to spit out your receipt.

You watch as he works the bagel slicer and toaster without conscious thought, large hand pulling off his glove before taping the flimsy paper to the front of the bag. He’s sliding your items over to you to grab when you speak once more.

“And thank you again, for the discount.”

He only shakes his head, lips turning down into a funny looking frown. “Don’t worry about it, really. Good luck on finals.”

You smile gratefully, managing to hold your juice and bagel in one hand as you make your way back over to the door. “Thank you! Have a good night.”

“Bye, love you—“ He practically chokes on his own spit, turning quickly to cough steadily into the crook of his elbow.

You were halfway out of the door when you heard him, and now you stare, amused as the cold wind nips at the left side of your face. “Love me?”

“I-“ His nose crinkles, and he coughs one last time. “Sorry, I-“ You watch as he visibly relaxes once his focus is back on you and not on trying to breathe correctly.

Your head is tilted to the side, an obvious glint in your eye.

He lets out a breathy laugh before trying to continue. “I don’t-” Your eyebrows rise as he stumbles. “- love you. I just- I say it to friends a lot and I guess it… slipped? I don’t know-“

“I’m teasing.” You call out over the wind that blows through as you push the door open wider. You can’t help but laugh to yourself as you move to leave. “Don’t worry. Bye, Harry.”

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secretsickysideblog · 3 years

Text

repentance & rest-oration

“I didn’t know you got migraines,” is what he decides on. “I didn’t either,” Fugo scoffs. “Started after... well .”

“Yeah,” Mista nods, “after, well. Yeah.”

while struck with the misfortune of a migraine, fugo receives a visitor. (post-purple haze feedback)

(sicktember day 4 - headaches/migraines)

The first time Fugo had developed a migraine, only days after parting ways from the rest of his gang and Passione entirely, he had decided it was some form of karma. He’d laughed, bitterly, before realizing that only worsened the pulsing in his head. And then he’d managed to fall into a fitful rest in an alleyway between a bar and a restaurant.

Now, six months and change later and waking up in a bed with a familiar pounding in his head, Fugo would like to say the pain is lessened by the comfort of an actual apartment. But it isn’t. It’s always just about as bad as he remembers, and even though he’s repented for his poor choices as evidenced by the scars permanently brandished on his cheeks, the poor luck of regular migraines hasn’t seemed to leave him.

Fugo groans softly, rolling over and shoving his face as far into his pillow as he can manage. Even with the curtains drawn shut, the light only serves to worsen the pounding in his head. He takes a deep breath to quell the roiling nausea in the pit of his gut. It does little to help, and Fugo tangles his fingers in his hair as he fights the urge to crawl under his bed and die there.

There’s a knock, distantly, and at first Fugo thinks he’s started hallucinating; when it comes louder, he pieces together that somebody is knocking on his front door. Which means that he is, unfortunately, obligated to haul ass out of bed and answer. He huffs and slowly, carefully rolls out of bed, and he takes his time in standing to avoid having the world spin too much.

A third series of knocks, and if there’s a fourth, Fugo’s certain he might go berserk and stab something. (Or himself. He’s survived it once, what’s another knife to the gut going to do?)

With as much aggravation as he can manage through how disgustingly weak he feels, Fugo throws open the front door. And standing there is none other than Guido Mista, dressed formally in his new-and-improved business garb; it’s been about two weeks since he swore fealty to Giorno, and he still isn’t used to the new colors on the two of them.

Fugo blinks, confused. The last time he saw Mista approach him in-person on his own volition was when he was getting a revolver aimed at his head in point-blank range.

“If you’re here to kill me, do it quickly. Quietly, please,” Fugo croaks, stepping away from the front door to allow Mista entry. He leans against his table, squeezing his eyes shut and gingerly massaging his temples with the pads of his fingertips. “Oh, death sounds great.”

“Woah,” Mista puts his hands up in mock surrender, gun tucked safely in the crotch of his pants, as usual. “I come in peace. I just came ‘cause it’s almost three and Giorno and I haven’t heard from you all day.”

“Wasn’t aware you were anticipating hearing from me,” Fugo snarks, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. It’s true; usually, he hears from Giorno over Mista and it’s about a lead to follow. He works alone now, for the most part, with the exception of Sheila E. If Fugo ever contacts Giorno or Mista outside of seeing them personally, it’s brief.

“Well, no, but you didn’t come by or bother to call.”

“Usually, if I’m needed, you call for me,” Fugo takes a couple of shaky breaths before standing up straight and opting to curl up on the couch instead with a quiet, “I need to sit down,” mumbled beneath his breath.

“I guess I was just used to you taking initiative to interact and had a nagging feeling something was wrong, okay? Sue me,” Mista shakes his head. “I was right though, obviously. What’s up with you?”

“Migraine,” Fugo buries his face in his hands. “I think I might vomit. Or pass out. Or both, and then subsequently choke on my vomit and die.”

“Nothin’ I haven’t seen before.” Mista rolls his eyes. The two lapse into silence, and usually, this wouldn’t matter, but usual for them is seven months ago before the fall of any normalcy they’d come to build up together. Mista, honestly, isn’t sure why he decided to check in on Fugo--the two of them have taken careful efforts to do the opposite of what they’re doing right now.

Admittedly, Mista may have come to reconcile. It’s been two weeks. It’s about time the two have a conversation that isn’t about dead bodies, be it of friends or foes. But now is, obviously, not the time, and Mista’s not exactly sure what to do other than stand here and try and tuck away everything he’d intended on saying in favor of saying something more useful (which, in this case, might just be nothing at all.)

“I didn’t know you got migraines,” is what he decides on. “I didn’t either,” Fugo scoffs. “Started after... well.”

“Yeah,” Mista nods, “after, well. Yeah.”

He considers leaving, which is probably what Fugo wants him to do. But briefly, he considers that maybe Fugo could use a friend. Ex-friend. Colleague. Whatever the hell they are now--some sort of company, some sort of support. Fugo had gotten his family ripped out from under him just like Mista had whether the latter enjoys admitting that fact to himself or not.

So after a moment of hesitance and a long exhale, Mista approaches the couch and sits on the opposite end from Fugo. Not close to him, but closer than the doorway.

“Stress, probably,” Mista suggests. “I try not to be stressed, so I wouldn’t know. But Gio gets headaches sometimes when he’s overworked.”

“I’m not overworked, ” Fugo snaps, but he immediately regrets it. He bites back the rest of his statement--’ I don’t do enough anymore’-- in part because he doesn’t have the energy to argue it, but equally because he fears Mista would agree. And although he knows, in his heart, that it’s true, he dislikes the idea of hearing someone else say it. With the severity of the throbbing pain bouncing along the walls of his skull, Fugo is about to cry for reasons entirely unrelated. He does not need a reason to cry tears of sadness. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”

“You’re good,” Mista shrugs, “well, clearly not good, but. You know...what I mean.”

“Yeah.” Fugo would laugh if he had it in him to. “I know what you mean.”

“Do you want me to, erm…” Mista scratches the back of his neck. “Do you want painkillers or something? A cup of tea?”

Fugo picks his head up, eyes narrowing in Mista’s direction, and not in defense towards the light hitting them. “Am I hallucinating? Are you offering me help?”

“Oh, don’t be an assbag. I’m packin’ a gun, y’know.”

“I am well aware, thank you,” Fugo chuckles breathily. And then he sighs. “Do you mean it?” “I wouldn’t offer it if I wasn’t serious. That’s a pretty lame joke, if you ask me.”

Fugo considers it--considers, mostly, saying no and shooing Mista out of his apartment to continue to keep him and all of the grief he reminds him of away. But he is freshly out of painkillers and if he were to stand long enough to make a cup of tea he might keel over. A harsh wave of pain nearly constricts the back of his throat into a gag, and Fugo decides that he really does not have a choice in the matter.

“...Alright,” he agrees, reluctance clear in his tone. “If you really don’t mind.”

Mista makes a move to stand, but he lingers for a moment. He looks Fugo over with this odd seriousness to his expression, though this goes unnoticed by Fugo himself who has buried his face back into his hands. And gingerly, with the tender cautiousness of touching fragile old china, he cards his fingers through Fugo’s hair--just twice.

Fugo doesn’t want to admit the way it seemed to curb the intensity, for just a moment. He tells himself it’s a fluke.

“I’ll be back, okay?” Mista goes through the effort to whisper.

“Okay,” Fugo whispers back.

As he hears Mista's footsteps recede, mindfully quieted, Fugo dares to think that maybe karma isn’t so black-and-white.

#pannacotta fugo #guido mista #migraines #headaches #headaches & migraines #sickfic #sick character #jjba fanfiction #jjba sickfic #purple haze feedback #post-phf #post purple haze feedback #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo's bizarre adventure sickfic #sicktember2021

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pluviophile-bookworm · 3 years

Text

HSMTMTS 2x9: so dreaded, so exciting, 'Sword!' (yeah, I went there, I've been thinking about this scene - you know the one - since yesterday for some reason)

After two computer malfunctions and a very tough, very sleepless night, here I am with a third attempt to write this post. The universe is against me today. Is Mercury in retrograde or something? Ugh, I just want to get this over with already. And I haven't even managed to see half the episode yet. You better like this cursed post because it's taken me two hours at this point, and will probably take another to finish - and that is if nothing goes wrong this time. Please bear with me. This is my reaction to HSMTMTS 2x9, take 3. Let's hope and pray it's the last one.

I'm normally [unpopular opinion alert] a very spoiler-positive person (it's the combination of anxiety and ADHD and a bunch of other stuff, I suppose), but for this one I've been refraining from looking at the tag all morning, so by now I'm simply bursting with impatience. But before we dive in, I need to get some stuff off my chest.

Some pre-watch thoughts and feelings (let's see how well they will have aged by the end of the episode):

Seriously, what is with whoever writes this show? I know it's impossible, but I feel like they've been toying with my emotions specifically all season. Like:

Ah, so you were a Rini shipper last season? Great, now we'll make them obnoxious and borderline toxic to the point where you actually want them to break up, but then their old chemistry will be back just for the breakup scene so that you can cry your eyes out over the one couple you couldn't stand - even though you can't seem to relate to a single song from Sour, we'll make you feel like you do for a hot second. At least it will remind you that you loved Ricky.

So you say Redlyn own your heart and soul? Great, we'll make you dread something going wrong with them for a week straight, and mess up your sleep schedule beyond repair over it. You're welcome!

We heard you said Rodfini give you life? Perfect, how about a big Seblos fight? And would you like a side of questioning your choice to stan Carlos with that? Because what is life without a little anxiety, a bit of doubt of your ability to read people, and a pinch of existential dread, right?

Ah, so you claimed not to ship Portwell romantically, is that right? Brilliant, we'll make you ship them and then we'll use that to torture you, too.

You've been excited about ABF and Asher Angel guest-starring ever since they were announced? Magnificent! We'll make you hate ABF's character to the point where you can't even look at him, and we'll make you call him names you thought yourself incapable of uttering. And as for Asher, you'll be left waiting for him until the last third of the season, and then you'll dread the possibility of hating his character, too. Do you love us yet?

Oof! Right then, I've got that out of my system. Time to dive in.

Miss Jenn playing around with the backgrounds is, like, 90% of the people who had online school this year, and honestly, I love that for her.

Wait, why is Nini first on this call? Are they going through with the Rose thing? Cos like, the song is nice and all (and, might I add, much more to my taste than nearly all of Sour, don't @ me), but if they use it, it will get them disqualified. They’ve been told that! Gosh, please let me be wrong about this.

We get it, Carlito, rich and fancy and over-the-top is kind of your thing, but have you stopped for a second to think about how others will feel about this? Especially Seb, whom you claim to care about. Seriously, though, I love Carlos and would not hesitate to die for him, but I’m getting the feeling that, unlike my other favourite (you know the one), he wouldn’t do the same for me. Oh well, he’ll figure it out. He’s just a kid. Give him time.

Wait, Milky White? Is that an Into the Woods reference I smell? Cool! If I had a cow, I’d totally name her Milky White (or Gertrude, but don’t ask me why). I just hope they don’t have to, like, take her to the market and exchange her for magic beans, if you catch my drift.

Ahhhhh, Caswell cousins content! We love to see it!

‘You guys are watching, like, old old movies’ WTH, Nini (or is it Nina)? Scary Movie is literally younger than me. But what do you know about it, you 21st-century baby! Ugh, I don’t know why I’m being so hostile today... must be the lack of sleep. Hope it doesn’t influence my reactions to the episode so dramatically as to make me forget how much I love this series. Because I do.

Yay! Big Red is here! I can finally smile. And did Ash just say they’re soulmates? Because yes they are! Ahhh my heart is going to explode.

‘Nini, have you heard from [Ricky]?’ Yikes, awkward... but of course, Big Red can be counted on to save the day here, too.

Ok, so that was a cool cold open. Time for some nice in-person scenes, though. I did not spend all of three semesters doing online school just to have the characters of my favourite series do the same.

Wow, Gina is really embracing that French accent thing! And I really don’t want to think about, erm, ‘Napoleon over here’ right now, but I really think the fact that she’s doing it better than him will be another piece of evidence towards my theory of fake-French!Antoine... ugh, I said his name. Oh well. Back to Gina. Too bad the French thing didn’t work out for her.

Ahhhh, Portwell with Ash in the background! And Ash is going to paint EJ’s nails! I feel like he’s going to end up loving that, despite what he says right now. But seriously, I just love how comfortable these two are with each other. Can you blame me now for shipping them as friends? Well, I mean, it’s obvious they will be more than friends, and somehow, despite the amatonormativity of it all, I’m here for it.

Wait, was that Asher? That was Asher, I’m 100% sure of it. And Gina said ‘a sign’ and then looked at him, even from the back... what am I supposed to think and feel here? I’m confused. Moving on.

Ahh, poor Ricky being a burrito... good thing that breakup scene last time reminded me that I love him, because the entirety of the season before that was very good at making me forget that.

Wait, did she say ‘the Bean’? As in, that Bean? The infamous Bean? LOL.

‘So the only time you two talk to each other is to gossip about me’ Boy, did I feel that. I once got my hands on my dad’s mobile and I... kind of went through his texts with mum. Yep, all about me and my brother. At this point I feel like they’re only together because of us. But this is getting too personal. I’m here about the episode, not to rant about my family. Moving on.

Yikes, looks like Nini’s got writer’s block all over again. Am I supposed to feel sorry for her? Because I kind of don’t. I mean, no hate towards her, none at all, but that entire scene just felt awkward and unnecessary. And not just because it’s her first time going live. That I can understand. What I don’t understand is why the writers can’t seem to do anything creative and interesting with Nini. Olivia is being wasted there. Idk, that’s just how I feel. Again, no hate.

Ahhhhh it’s Asher! And well, he’s not Jonah, but I kind of really like him as Jack. I wonder if that will last.

So is it just me, or is anyone else not quite sure how to feel about Ricky’s mum? I mean, their interactions seem kind of awkward and strained, but that’s how it’s supposed to be given their recent history, and yet something just doesn’t sit quite right with me.

‘You there, Muse? It’s me, Nini!’ Ah, so it’s Nini again? I didn’t get the memo. Gosh, this episode is kind of really underwhelming. The most exciting thing so far (but not nearly as exciting in practice as it was in theory) – Asher and Sofia’s on-screen reunion. The second most exciting thing? The thought of Ash painting EJ’s nails. Everything else? Kind of ‘whatever’. Is this what I tossed and turned about all night? Totally not worth it. This episode better get, like, 300% better right this instant. It’s just not worth all the frustration and excitement and dread so far.

Looks like my prayers from just now have been heard! That improv scene was hilarious! Guess it was lucky that Miss Jenn had them do improv before this moment. But I need to know more of Jack’s backstory now.

Ok, so that was awkward! So Kourtney is talking to Howie again, I guess. And I guess I know now what Carlos did that was all public and no subtle. Still, what’s wrong with posting photos from your holiday? Guess I don’t exactly know yet what Carlos did to piss the others off so much.

Great, now I’m tempted to google butterfly faces. Good thing I’m not eating anymore. *** Ughhhhh this was a mistake! Please don’t ever look a butterfly in the face if you want to stay sane. Don’t be like me.

Ahhh the Duke sweater! ‘Is that your boyfriend’s?’ Well, not quite yet, it’s not... *screams in Portwell*

Oh, now we’re talking! But seriously, Ricky? The ‘my friends think’ card? Why don’t you just say ‘I think’? It’s clearly something you’ve thought about a lot. I feel like I’m going to love this scene or cry over it or both.

Ooh, therapy. It’s not just... basically the entire fandom... who says it now. Please tell me that means Ricky will be going to therapy at some point. Says the girl who is currently firmly refusing to go to therapy in favour of hyperfixating on HSMTMTS and getting back into the good old practice of having imaginary friends... yeah, I’m one to talk.

My, my, my! Seb has really had it now. I mean, it was about time, but... not quite like this. My heart is starting to do some weird stuff, I can feel it. I might need to lie down.

Ok, so as much as I envy North High for getting to see so many shows on BWay – basically living out my dream – stalking East High on Instagram and being shady about them taking a well-deserved break... just goes beyond all limits. I mean, if you’re so into Broadway shows, you should know as well as I do what happened the last time a certain founding father did not take a break. Maybe you’re the ones in need of a break here.

Nini on the call with the Caswell cousins, though... ‘I’m obsessed with both of you’ – first relatable thing she’s said or done all season. And EJ playing with old toys is pure gold.

Oh, so Jack’s dad is a pilot. Makes sense, I guess. I’m kind of intrigued by this guy. Just as long as he doesn’t try to come between Portwell before they’ve had the chance to happen, you know...

Ashlyn might need to stop swooning over Nini’s songwriting or Big Red might get jealous... I mean, I would not have pinned him as the jealous type before 2x7, but ever since then... I guess insecure + dating a girl like Ash = the jealous type. And although that looks good on him, I’d bet anything it doesn’t feel particularly pleasant on his side. So... wait, why am I talking about Big Red? He hasn’t even got anything to do with the scene at hand. But then again, there’s been so little Big Red content in this episode that I seem to be trying to make up for it. Still. Stay focused.

Ooh, so Big Red did edit that video! Is there anything my boy can’t do? Ok, now I feel like he’s even more criminally underappreciated than he was before. But let’s look at the video. I’m curious to see the whole thing because that sneak peek from yesterday simply hasn’t been enough.

That was... really, really cool! I love how they took the ‘when they go low, we go high’ line from last time and run with it. Now if only they were putting as much effort into BATB... North High wouldn’t know what hit them.

Hmmmm... I guess Gina and Jack could be what I originally wanted Portwell to be... really cool friends. Unless it’s one of those ‘airport magic’ things. Oh well. It probably is. Was that all we’re seeing of Asher here? I did not wait 2/3 of the season for this. Though it was nice.

Ooh, Ricky’s solo song... why is there more Rini chemistry in this song than there was in all the season? Not counting the breakup scene, of course. Also, I feel like it’s just as much about him and his mum as it is about Nini. Some say music is the best therapy. I think they might be right. And no, I’m not crying. You are.

The granola bar, though... this episode might have been very underwhelming in the first half, but... it delivered in the Portwell front, and the music was *chef’s kiss*, so I’m willing to let it slide that the advertised Seblos ‘big fight’ was not touched upon nearly enough. Maybe next week...

Ok, now that we’re done watching the episode, let’s see how my feelings from the beginning have aged:

The Rini breakup: apparently, along with reminding me that I love Ricky, it has rendered me unable to look at Nini. What’s up with that? If this is some sort of tactic along the lines of ‘Olivia might be leaving the show so we’re making you hate her character so that you won’t miss her’, it’s not really working. Because I don’t want to hate Nini. Believe me, I don’t.

Redlyn: ok, so there’s nothing wrong with them whatsoever - we even got a ‘soulmates’, which I loved - but first they’re being swept under the rug, and then the antis come at us with that ‘their relationship is underdeveloped’ nonsense. Individually, though, I liked them in this episode (even if there was a significant shortage of Big Red), and Ashlyn collaborating with Nini again was cool, but... what I really wanted to see was her painting EJ’s nails. Did she even get the chance to actually do it? Maybe next week.

Seblos: I’m still failing to understand exactly what Seb thinks Carlos did wrong (please enlighten me if you did catch that, I’m kind of slow), but he (Seb) does have reasons to be mad at him (Carlos)... and at other people, too. Still, if you want to have a fight between two people in a relationship, you could do much better than whatever this episode was. Maybe next week. I notice I’m saying that a lot. Guess I’m putting a lot of hopes on 2x10. I just pray it doesn’t disappoint.

Portwell: boy, am I happy that my frustration on this front did not age well! What I mean is, apparently they’ve decided to bless us, not torture us for once. Even a rather disappointing episode like this one had to have some sort of silver lining. And Portwell is it.

Asher as Jack: well, luckily I didn’t hate him, but... it’s kind of the opposite problem. I loved him and now they’re taking him away from me. Guess I just can’t win here. Oh well. At least he didn’t have the screen time to get in between Portwell...

All in all: 2x10, my hopes and prayers are with you!

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footballxwrites · 3 years

Note

So I just read this insta post on the Man City player Rodri where he’s actually studying for a business degree and is super down to earth. So maybe you could do one where you’re with Mason Mount but meet Rodri at a coffee shop or something and he knows you cos you run a Super successful company at 22 and also cos of Mase and he seems very down to earth and intelligent. You really liked the conversation because it’s rare to see a footballer like that, given that you’ve been in the football world forever cos of Mase. You go home and tell Mase about it and how it was nice to see this kind of mentality and be able to have a different kind of conversation with a football and doesn’t give two flying fucks about money and social media. It was a nothing conversation and you forgot about it but Mase gets super jealous ans insecure and starts looking at open university colleges etc and reading books on business ans finance instead of playing FIFA etc. you obviously notice this change in behaviour and ask him about it so he comes clean and is super vulnerable, please make it angsty and cute 🤍 sorry if it’s a bit long 😪

apologies for how long this has taken me to write, but I hope this was something you had in mind! Enjoy x

“Is this seat taken?” you heard a voice gently say as you titled your gaze to the stranger, his face lighting up in sudden realisation, “oh you’re Y/N” he continued, not thinking twice about taking the free chair beside you. “Yeah that’s right” you laughed, puzzled as ever wondering how you he even recognised, “you look so familiar...famous?” you asked the guy who handed you a smile and gently shook his head. “I guess I am, well I don’t like to think I am but...yes I’m a footballer, play for Man City” he went on to shyly say as the light bulb in your head clicked, “yes! you’re Rodrigo, I thought I’d seen you before”

“But can I ask how you know me?” you questioned, still surprised as he stared down to the sheets of paper that were spread across the table, most of it probably seeming nonsense to him as it was mainly just business plans and developments, “oh I’ve heard about the new company you’ve opened not far from West Minister and I of course know Mason” he nodded, immediately turning back to the piled paperwork, invested as ever. “Ah yeah fair enough. I didn’t think you’d be that interested in the business sector” you smiled as he was grinning, the happiness clear as day in his soul, “well I’m actually studying a business degree, in between all the football and that”

“Oh wow that’s amazing. I would be lying if I said I was not surprised” you giggled as you opened the many folders stacked on the table and gave him a closer look into your job, him bombarding you with questions which you didn’t in the slightest mind answering, excited that someone could finally take pride and an interest in what you do...with was more than could be said for your boyfriend.

—————————————————

“It was nice to escape the footy talk for once” you sighed, falling onto the settee and snuggling up to your boyfriend who let out a hummed reply, not in the slightest bit bothered by your conversation you had to share, “and he was actually really lovely to talk to, different you know, not like the typical footballer” you rambled, filling him in on all the details of you day and not caring whether he was listening anymore. “And how was your day Mason? Ah yes it was great to ask for asking, bit tired from training but overall content” he interrupted in the most sarcastic tone he could possible, “alright alright twisty knickers calm down” you laughed, shaking your head as he let out a huff and picked up the empty bowl of cereal on the side, taking it to the kitchen in an obvious mood about god knows what. “Ok then” you whispered to yourself before dragging your feet to the kitchen where he was stood washing up, his back to you but a clear frown still sat on his lips as you gazed upon his reflection in the window, “you coming to bed then” you smirked, kissing down his jaw, attempting to get him into another type of mood, “I’ll be up in a minute” he said, not playing along to your act to which you gave up and headed upstairs, hoping he was just knackered from his ‘stressful’ day.

—————————————————

“Should smile more, it’s good for ya” you laughed, yawning as you wondered into the kitchen the next morning having slept like a baby, not even realising you boyfriend had been up for a good 3 hours before you even moved a muscle in your king bed. “Hmm? Oh erm yeah just still got a bit of headache from yesterday” he smiled before quickly shutting the lid of his laptop as you passed the table, clearly hiding something from you. “Go back to bed then, got a free day haven’t you?” you suggested, wrapping your arms around his neck and pecking his lips, your eyes glued to shut laptop, wondering if you wanted to know what he was keeping from you, “yeah i might actually, gonna have a shower first” he softly grinned, before sighing and dragging himself up the stairs. “You seriously not been on the PlayStation today, that’ll make a change” you shouted in disbelief with a laugh to the floor above, “I know shock horror eh, but Nah I’ve been busy this morning” he called back down, which got you thinking...

“What are you hiding Mount” you muttered, waiting till you heard running water from the bathroom before you found yourself taking a sneak peak at his prized laptop, spotting a few of your books from back in Uni that you used to study with, not having a clue how they got there because you haven’t used them in a good year and a bit. You were greeted with multiple tabs opens, half of them ready to apply for finance courses at local universities and to be honest you were concerned, I mean why is your boyfriend, a professional footballer who is making millions a year looking to go back to basics and get a degree? None of it made sense...

“You’re going to tell me exactly what in the hell you are doing” you said, leaning back on the chair with crossed arms as he walked back in, fresh out the shower, his curls fallen light over his head as he stood with widened eyes, stumbling over his words. “Nothing I was just looking out of interest, don’t make it out to be something that deep” he shrugged, playing it off as if you could be fooled as easy as that, “right yeah course because you’ve been interested in my work before-“ you said with a half raised voice as he let out the loudest groan, “FINE, well these two years we’ve been together I’ll be honest I haven’t a clue what your job and company is apart from it’s ‘business’ which is very very ranged...I just wanted to know more about you, my girlfriend, is that such a bad thing” he shouted back, collapsing on the chair in defeat. “What so you were planning a trip to Uni just to find out what I do for a living” you said, unconvinced, knowing he wasn’t giving you the entire truth, “well you seemed so interested about Rodri and his out of football life, just thought you’d appreciate me that bit more if I made ‘an effort’ every now and then”

“What are you going on about Mason?” you sighed, shaking your head in confusion, his jealous arse chatting a load of shit as per usual, “oh shut up...you’re joking right, this is about that conversation I had with him at that cafe isn’t it” you laughed, remembering telling your boyfriend the harmless chat last night, not thinking anything of it as like I said...it was harmless and not a big deal. “I wanted to be more involved and know about your work life, you know all the ins and outs of mine...I just wanted to be able to appreciate your career like you do mine” he mumbled as your expression softened, “bloody hell what are you like, you don’t have to go off and do a degree to know about my job, just ask it’s a simple enough question” you giggled at his innocence, moving to straddle him as you cupped his face, giving him a small kiss of reassurance.

“All I meant yesterday was it was a nice change to speak to someone in the same working sector as me who can relate to what I’m talking about and it not seeming gibberish to them, you know it’s like you and Ben rambling on about the training drills and special sports terms and me not having a clue what any of it means” you smiled, stroking a hand through his damp locks, “ok fair enough, but I’d love to be able to understand what you day for 9 hours a day, 5 days a week” he grinned as you nodded. “It’s a deal Mr Mount, I’ll take you through it all but you have to be focused mind because this shit ain’t easy...still, I appreciate the efforts you were willing to go to for me” you teased with a wink, making him go all shy and sweet once again🤍

Here is the article about Rodri if you’re interested 👇🏼

#football #footballer #football blurb #footballer imagine #mason mount #chelsea fc

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calypsoff · 3 years

Text

Eighty Six.

This sucks so bad, like this whole situation is horrible. Like Robyn really pushing through with this, she could at least come back home. I am not that bad, I made a mistake let me make it up to her but she is adamant in staying with Mel, Rorrey picks up Rylee and brings her here to me, I haven’t seen Robyn since we landed. That was a whole week ago, I have nothing to do but be at home and just run my business that Rorrey is of course helping me with, it is so kind of him to help me with everything. I was wondering if he hasn’t got better things to do then look after me but no, he said he doesn’t mind, he enjoys my company. Getting this home I didn’t think of moments like this, having to get down the steps by sliding down on my ass, it’s a whole mission but I don’t have my wife to help me. The bedsheets haven’t been changed since she’s left so this is fun, I can barely make the bed too, she did everything for me, literally did everything. But Robyn on the other hand, she is having fun since I have broke my leg. She has been out every night, I am seeing pictures of her out, I am jealous because she looks so well, she looks so happy and acting like I am not giving her heartache, but I am sorry. She does do one thing, cleans my clothes and sends them to me but still, I miss her a lot. Rylee is not filling the void at all “I can always hear you coming down” Rorrey laughed as he ate his cereal “I am not carrying you like that, I nearly died” I chuckled, we are dumb “I hate it because like by the time I be getting to bed I burn off all my food, then I be hungry again” shaking my head “should text me, I will bring you some food” nodding my head “I am glad you’re here though, thank you” it is nice of him “it’s fine, but I will say this. You need a cleaner to come, the home is getting dusty” I sighed out, he has a point “let me call Robyn” I joked “you want your head on a plate” Rorrey laughed “she would have your head nigga” he isn’t wrong.

Rorrey can cook, I have to give it to him. He’s been cooking for me every day “I’m gonna ring my dad, finally” Rorrey cheered “stop dodging your parents, they only want the best for you. Just tell them, you messed up” he laughed, I sighed out. I haven’t exactly told my parents about what happened to me, and that my leg is in a cast, I didn’t even tell them about Robyn and I falling out meaning that she left, they know we was arguing but not that she left the home, so this will be fun “son, I am working” oh he is, I forget that he does “sorry; you on a break or something. I really need to speak to you” the line went silent, that is a disapproving silence because I think he knows that I have fucked up more “Christopher” my dad said “yeah” he knows me well “I have time” I chuckled a little “so erm, yeah. Robyn isn’t living with me anymore; you know when you asked. I lied, I have been on tour with Drake all that time and not seeing my daughter, I didn’t spend Christmas with them either. I spent it alone at the house, she is with her friend. I didn’t spend new year with her either, I went out to Tyga’ new year party. But then we met up in New York, like Robyn had been trying to prove a point to me, a point I was ignoring so what happened was I heard drake admitting he was playing me all this time, that he wanted Robyn. I lost my temper and chased him, and we both fell down the steps and I broke my foot so now I am back home in a cast with a semi naked man in my kitchen” Rorrey laughed out “what is funny about this situation Chris, I am angry with you!” my dad didn’t like the joke at the end, but it was funny to me.

This is why I didn’t want to tell my dad any of this, I know what the reaction would be like, he can be so dramatic at times “I am in shock, so the times you have been calling me and your mother you have been single and going around places, like where? You spent New Years where?” my dad is angry as shit, I am glad I am not in VA, he would beat my ass “you stupid boy answer me!” he shouted “just like Canada and then toured with Drake to like near enough every city in the America, and went to parties and on the New Year I spent it with Tyga, and then stayed at his home” I mumbled “is any of this ok!?” he is shouting a lot “no dad, I understand what you are saying. And I know none of this is normal or good, I thought I would tell you because you needed to know” Rorrey cringed, I think he can hear my dad going crazy “we asked you, me and your mother facetimed you and you said we are ok but then it comes together, I asked to see Rylee and she wasn’t there, you are so stupid. Your wife has left you and you did all this!? You know how stupid you look, you aren’t no Picasso Chris, you are in the same position as me. You have a beautiful, respectful wife and she has left you and you do this!? She has left you Chris, how does it feel, I would be losing my mind over your mother, and you are pointless and pathetic, sitting there in her home in a cast. I am angry with you Chris, very angry, she has giving you so much life and opportunity and you give her shit, I was here! I was here when you were speaking to her. I didn’t raise that; you aren’t my son because I didn’t raise such a disrespectful boy. I kept saying jail changed him, yes jail did play a part but not every part, now you are plain stupid!” putting my head down, I am going to take it because he isn’t wrong, what can I say, I fucked up “first thing Chris, first thing in line is your wife is always right. When your wife says that friend is no good, he is no good! You don’t look the other way, he wanted your wife, and you didn’t listen, you heard the opposite, you practically blamed your wife in this. You judged her, I didn’t raise that no. I didn’t, I am so angry at you. That is your family Christopher, you left this home disrespectful, and you got there even worse” my dad would have beat my ass, I am glad I am not there at all.

I remained silent; I respect my dad so much. He is my everything and what he says is right so I wouldn’t back chat him like that “so now what? You have a broken foot, and my grandchild is where? I can’t believe you allowed your child to be away from you that long, you have the perfect opportunity to be there for her every day where I had to work, I am jealous of that, but you did that? So where are they now? What are you doing to fix this” chewing on my bottom lip, oh boy. This next part is going to be fun “she is with Mel, she bought me back home and said she isn’t coming home. We have been back for a week, and she has been out every night, what can I do with a broken foot dad!?” I spat “everything! You move the world, if the world stops you, you move it. What haven’t you learnt Chris, you knock on that door, you be there. Women will push and push and push until they can’t, and they will stop. You fight Chris, what do you want!? Do you want Robyn?” nodding my head “more then ever, I miss her so much, but she is really not wanting to hear me, you know?” Rorrey pointed at my plate before walking off, nodding my head at him “she doesn’t want to hear you, doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to see you. Do you expect her to come to you? A week alone is too long, you disrespected your wife and then more, you need to be there Chris” my dad is right “I have been laid back” I mumbled “moving aside how I am angry at you, you better. I mean it Chris, you fight for her and show her that you mean it. She loves you Chris, it’s so hard to find love and you got it, this is what you do?” I feel so bad right now.

Rorrey is quiet with me, he knows I needed time to think and just digest what my dad was just saying to me, he said a lot and honestly I do deserve it, I fucked up big time “I can’t eat, but thank you” I said “it’s cool” I feel bad I am wasting it “I upset your sister, but you are here for me? I just find it crazy, you know?” Rorrey smiled a little “my sister loves you Chris, if she didn’t I wouldn’t be here. She asked me to be with you, to stay with you because she didn’t want you to be alone, she is caring for you from afar but the longer you wait around it will get boring and she will see you as nothing, my sister doesn’t wait around, and I am shocked she is for you, but she is loves you. She said it’s me he upset, not you. She asked and I came, I am not going to get involved because honestly, it’s not like you cheated but you need to learn how to talk to my sister too, I don’t like it either, but we move forward” Rorrey is a good man “thank you, you think I should go to Mel’ home?” he chuckled “why not, your daughter is there. As long as I can drive your car then nigga I am down” I chuckled “of course, you can take it whenever” I don’t mind him driving them at all “Robyn is going to be fake annoyed to see you but ride the wave brother” I need too.

Everything is so tiring, meaning that I have to drag my leg around. Climbing into my Urus car was dreadful btu I got there “you know what Rorrey, I think I am going to get Drake back. I am going to air him out for this, what you think?” I need to get his advice, he knows his shit “why not, he hurt you. Maybe you can’t do anything meaning like beat his ass, but you can surely air him out for this shit, it is so childish and petty you know” that means I can, I have been deleting all the posts of Drake, everything. All traces of that nigga, I really fucking hate him for what he has done to me. Going onto my Instagram, I have a little something written out, I want people to know what kind of nigga he is, he is a bitch ass nigga, and it may be long as fuck this post, but niggas need to know that he ran from the fade he was going to get, going to my drafts. I have all this written out, I just needed Rorrey to say I should, and I should. Reading over the post that I made ‘Always believe and trust in your wife when she says the nigga is a bitch nigga, your wife knows who is real and who isn’t but y’all king is a bitch nigga. Someone that can’t handle rejection and then runs from a fade. I know y’all seen me with a cast on my leg, that is because this bitch @champagnepapi ran down the stairs because he couldn’t fight me, this nigga thing he could take my wife, this sick motherfucker that caught herpes from a stripper thinks he could be with my wife! I ain’t even going to get you nigga don’t worry; I am done with you and your sly team that lowkey hate each other. You can come at me with anything because I know I didn’t do anything on that tour. I just need y’all to know that it wasn’t some accident, if you ever look at my wife again I won’t miss’ pressing send on the post anyways, I don’t care anymore.

Stood behind Rorrey as we waited on Mel or whoever to open the door, they are taking their time anyways “they see me here ain’t they?” Rorrey laughed shaking his head, the door opened eventually “sorry, we were pointing on who was going to answer. Come in..” Mel dragged out “what a pleasant surprise, you came along?” nodding my head “to see my daughter” I sad, Mel moved out of the way to let us in “she is playing, well I say that but she is on her playmat” I hate these crutches so fucking much, making my way inside “Robyn is not here by the way” Mel added, I sighed out. I want to ask where, but I will anyways “where is she?” I had to ask “a meeting, so it’s just me, Tina and Rylee” I can wait for her, I need to be persistent in this. I need to get my wife back, I am so excited to see her, I love Robyn.

My mind really hasn’t been on Rylee at all, and it sounds bad of me, but I am just waiting for Robyn to come in, she is looking amazing. Like her body is just looking so good, she is doing the most of course but I need to get her back, stop her showing off her body like that I mean I ain’t like other niggas seeing it but who am I to be overprotective like that, I just need her back “this dumb bitch took us to the damn ghetto” my head shot to the door seeing Jahleel first “what you mean, what she done now?” Mel asked, “she wanted food and then we took a turning, we had her fans chasing us” my smile grew seeing Robyn all smiles, she is smiling and that is making me smile “I was hungry” she said, then she noticed me and her smile went “got lost?” she said, I cleared my throat “I came to see Rylee” I pointed out “should have asked, I could have delivered her to you” licking my top lip “I thought I would save you the trouble” the whole room is so silent, they are listening to us both and watching us “I prefer the trouble” she sniggered “clearly, anyways I am going to change” she walked off bag in hand, she is so fine and she looks so much more happier, maybe it’s me I don’t know but she is very vibrant, I am not sure what to do.

#chrianna fanfiction #chrianna #chriannaff #chrianna ff #fanfic #fanficiton

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etoileholland · 4 years

Text

Love showed up at my door

Based on the iconic Jonas Brothers song

Pairing: Tom Holland x female reader

Warnings: none, but it’s cheesy ;)

Word count: 1.3k

Summary: Tom and Harrison fell in love with the pizza girl, and now they’ve been eating a lot of pizza

A/N: Yes I have uploaded this about six times because the tags are not working and I am sorry.

It started one unsuspecting Thursday in New York, when Marvel was filming a scene from Spider-Man 3 off of 86th and 2nd Avenue in Manhattan. Tom was busy filming, and half a day and a lot of filming later, he and Harrison trudged to their trailer before collapsing on the couch.

“I swear man, I’ve never been more exhausted and famished in my life.” Harrison remarked as he slightly turned his head to see Tom sprawled out. “You know what sounds really good? Pizza. I could go for some pizza right about now.”

“Good idea. Hey, let’s order pizza from Vinnie’s down the way. It’s suspiciously cheap but super good and quick.” Tom suggested as he flipped himself over onto his back.

“Is that how you would be described if you were a male escort?” Harrison smirked and was met with a pillow being thrown at his face.

“Shut up and order the damn pizza.” Tom groaned as Harrison ordered online.

“Okay it’ll be here in about 10, so we just need to hold out until then.” He stated while Tom nodded his head.

“Wake me up when it gets here.” He added and Harrison agreed to do so.

About eleven minutes later there was a knock at the door, and Harrison mustered up the last bit of energy he had to walk to the door. He opened it up to see you, and his jaw dropped.

“Oh hello.” He ran his fingers through his hair, while lightly clearing his throat.

“Hello to you too. You ordered two large pizzas, one pepperoni with extra cheese and the other Hawaiian, correct?” You asked, while he began to nod his head profusely.

“Cool, it’ll be $11.56 please.” You stated as you handed him the pizzas, but he stood there frozen.

“Oh I, um, don’t have any money on me. Hold on a second.” He closed the door slightly and ran over to Tom before pushing him off the couch.

“What the hell-”

“Shut up, the pizza delivery girl is super pretty and I don’t have any American cash so give me a twenty.” He begged and Tom jumped up to open the door to see what you looked like.

You were standing there looking like an angel, and your hair was in a ponytail with little tendrils of hair framing your face. He began to choke on air as he saw you smile, and he knew that he would be ordering from Vinnie’s more frequently.

“Hello, um hi. I have twenty pounds, erm dollars for the pizzas.” He said and you smiled.

“That’s good, otherwise I would have to eat these pizzas by myself.” You laughed as Tom guffawed.

“Wow you are funny, and extremely beautiful.” He gasped, holding his hand over his mouth.

“Thank you, here’s the change and enjoy the pizzas.” You waved, making your way down the steps of the trailer.

He closed the door and leaned against it, before letting out a sigh. “God must be real, because she is clearly an angel among us mortals.” He said longingly and Harrison laughed.

“Did you see the way her eyes flickered under the trailer’s fluorescent lights? She’s gorgeous.” He added and took a large bite of a slice of pizza.

“I never thought I would say this but I think Vinnie’s may just be the best pizza, to like, ever exist.” Tom said as he grabbed a slice of pizza and folded it in half, before taking a large bite.

“Wanna have pizza tomorrow night?” Harrison asked with a grin and Tom agreed.

“Oh well be having it every night.”

—

“You know Holland, your suit is getting to be a tad bit too tight, and is that a pot belly I see?” His personal trainer Matt inquired. Everyone had noticed how sluggish and out of breath Tom had been recently, and it definitely didn’t go unnoticed by Matt.

“Maybe, I’ve been eating a lot of pizza recently.” He added as he patted his stomach and let out a burp. “Oh god I feel sick.”

“Yeah you don’t look good, why are you constantly getting pizza then? You know you’re supposed to be on a strict diet.”

“I-” burp “know. It’s just that the pizza delivery girl from Vinnie’s pizza is so gorgeous so Haz and I have been ordering from there every night to see her for a few minutes.”

“Suddenly that makes sense. Okay well do you even know her name?”

“It’s Y/N and gosh she looks like an angel. She smells like vanilla mixed with pizza which sounds utterly disgusting but she’s beautiful so it’s okay.” He rambled as he took a seat on the bench press. “Do you mind if I sleep here for like an hour because whew am I already out of energy.” Tom wiped his hand across his forehead and Matt laughed.

“We haven’t even done anything, you just walked in here a few minutes ago.”

“And that was too much physical energy for today.” He held up his pointer finger and Matt rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, just no more pizza for like the next year, you got it?” Matt crossed his arms in front of his chest and Tom did a thumbs up.

“You got it dude.” He replied as he curled up in a ball on the bench press.

—

“You know Tom, I’m starting to worry about your health. You now have acne, and your face is red and puffy. Also do you have a pot belly now?” You remarked as you stood in the doorway of the trailer.

“Maybe. But it’s okay, I’ll burn it off eventually.” He patted his stomach and let out a groan. Harrison was sprawled out on the couch and you could see that he was wearing sweatpants that accentuated his newly acquired love handles.

“Right, well for the safety of you both, I’m not going to give you the pizza.” You shifted your weight to your right leg as you continued to hold onto the boxes. “Actually, why have you been ordering pizza every night for the past two weeks?”

“Because we wanted to see you.” Harrison replied, but it was muffled due to the fact that his face was buried in the couch.

“Really? That is the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.” You put your hand on your heart and gave a little pout, which only made Tom melt. “But you know that this isn’t the best quality pizza, and you may need a coronary bypass surgery after this.”

“I know, but we wanted to see you, even if it meant putting our health on the line.” Tom rubbed the nape of his neck and you smiled.

“I care about you both, so if you want, you can call me, but not for pizza. Just in general.” You set the boxes of pizza down and pulled out a business card from your pocket. You then grabbed a pen from the end table and wrote your number on the back of it. You handed Tom the card as he looked down at it like he won the golden ticket.

“Thank you. Hey would you, um, want to go on a date with me?” Tom hesitantly asked and you only smiled.

“Oh honey you’re adorable, but I’m already in a relationship. However, I would love to be your friend.” You stated while Tom looked down and nodded. “And besides, I only took the job to help pay for school but I’m graduating. I’m moving out of New York next month anyway.”

“That’s fair, thank you for everything, and good luck with your post graduation life.” He added and you smiled.

“Thank you, I would love to hang out with you guys soon, but now I’m going to take this pizza back. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.” You took a few steps closer to the door and stopped. “Try eating a salad for a change.” You reached for the door handle and waved, and Tom waved back.

“Will do, bye.” Tom closed the door behind you and let out a sigh. He turned to look at Harrison, who was halfway off the couch.

“It wasn’t worth it mate, was it?” Tom asked and Harrison groaned. “It might sound cheesy, but I wanted her to stay.” He replied, his voice still muffled.

“Me too mate, me too.” He walked over to Harrison and patted him lightly on the shoulder. “Let’s order from that vegan place from down the street.”

——

Additional A/N: as always, requests and prompts are open! And let me know if you want to be added to the taglist 💛

Mes anges (taglist): @scarletxwidow @starkissedholland @fangirlwithasweettooth @lmaotshollandd @musicalkeys

#tom holland #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x female reader #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland blurbs #tom holland one shot #tom holland writing #tom holland fanfic #harrison osterfield #tom holland and you #tom holland prompt #mine #text #marvel #tom holland oneshots

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remedialpotions · 3 years

Text

all these people think love’s for show

This was written for the 2020 Incognito Elf exchange on the Harry and Ginny Discord for the amazing @katie-with-the-tea. Katie, I hope you have a fantastic holiday! ❤️💚 Special thanks to @thedistantdusk for organizing the event, which is no small feat!

Title taken from "peace" by Taylor Swift, because I am forever basic and proud of it.

ao3

Harry’s not unaccustomed to seeing his face splashed over the front page of the Daily Prophet. It’s a weekly, if not near-daily occurrence, and it has been since the end of the war. They are obsessed with him. They snap photos when he’s out for a pint with Ron or visiting Madam Malkin’s for a new set of robes (because as it turns out, it’s possible to go on the run for nine months at the age of seventeen, live off mushrooms, and still go through a grow spurt). They print speculative editorials every time he has to go to the Ministry - which is frequent, since he works there, though they prefer to disregard that. They run interviews with people he only tangentially knows - the Eyelops employee who once sold him Owl Treats, perhaps, or the Hufflepuff who was Head Boy when Harry was in his first year - who share embellished tales of their interactions with The Chosen One.

At this point, it’s almost weird when they aren’t talking about him.

Mostly, though, he’s managed to shield Ginny from taking the full brunt of it. She’s a hero in her own right, and he knows that a sighting of the two of them together is guaranteed to sell more papers than the Prophet can print in a day. He spent the summer hiding out with her at the Burrow or at Grimmauld Place, which proved effective, and so far, they haven’t missed out on too much. Of course it would be nice to take her out for dinner or even just walk through London holding her hand, but the reality of his life means that isn’t exactly an option. After everything, he’s just happy to be with her at all.

But today, it’s different. Today, when the post owl flies in through the fireplace and drops a fat bundle of newsprint directly onto Harry’s mug of tea, it’s not just his bespectacled face blinking back at him. In fact, the sight before him makes his stomach sink into his shoes.

“Nice,” mutters Ron from across the kitchen table as he uses his wand to siphon up the mess. “All they do is deliver papers all day, you’d think they’d have better aim.” He pauses and narrows his eyes at Harry. “You all right?”

Harry wants to respond, really he does - he knows Ron is prone to assuming the worst when he goes all quiet like this - but maybe Ron should assume the worst, because that’s how it feels. Words are failing him.

The photo, which moves in a terrible, taunting loop upon the page, is from yesterday, when he had been foolish enough to think that he could sneak up to Hogsmeade to see Ginny without being spotted. He followed all of his own unwritten rules, too. They didn’t go to the Three Broomsticks or to Honeydukes, but instead stole away to a secluded grassy knoll just behind the Shrieking Shack, where he believed that its macabre reputation would shield them from prying eyes.

And it had, but he made the mistake of kissing her hello in the middle of High Street (having not seen her in weeks, he hadn’t really been able to help it), and now, taking up the entire front page of the Sunday Prophet, is a long-lens closeup photo of their lips locking together. Over and over and over again.

Harry tosses the paper down onto the table and leans back in his chair. At this very moment, that same paper is surely arriving in the Great Hall, landing on the long wooden tables and making a spectacle of the most precious relationship in his life.

“Fuck’s sake,” laughs Ron, blinking in surprise at the photo. “Not exactly subtle, are they?”

“I should have used the cloak,” Harry mutters, mostly to himself, as Ron picks up the empty mug and carries it over to the stove. “And I should have met up with her somewhere different, I don’t know why I thought I could Apparate to the middle of town on a Saturday afternoon and not get caught - or I should have just stayed home. I should have known better.”

“They’d have got you some other way,” reasons Ron as he refills the mug with boiling-hot tea. “It’s unavoidable at this point, really, innit?”

The fact Ron’s right doesn’t make the truth sting any less. Where Harry goes, photographers follow, and if it was only his life it affected, he could live with it. But Ginny deserves better. Most of the horror Ginny has been through has been his fault, and now that it’s over, she deserves calm and happiness and peace.

If only he could offer that to her.

“How come this never happens to you and Hermione?” Harry asks irritably as Ron plunks the mug down in front of him. “Oh, cheers.”

Ron shrugs and picks up a slice of toast. “It does, occasionally,” he replies around a bite, “if it’s a slow news day. But the difference is that they’re not usually looking for us. They’re always looking for you.”

“And now they’ll be looking for Ginny too.”

Ron nods, morose. “Yeah.”

“Fuck.”

Like he always does, Harry writes to Ginny that afternoon, but today the parchment is filled with apologies, promises to do better, ideas on how they can meet up without being seen. He doesn’t try to reassure her, because there’s nothing to reassure her about: this is his life. There is no sense sugarcoating it; she needs to know what she’s got herself into by being with him.

By the time he’s finished his letter, the sky has gone dark, and he ambles down to the basement kitchen with the intention of sending his letter off with Pigwidgeon. But just as he reaches the staircase, he pauses. He might just be imagining things - it wouldn’t be the first time - but he’s almost positive he’s heard his name just now, coming from the general direction of the fireplace.

“Harry?”

There it is again, louder, more insistent, and alarmingly familiar. His stomach just about leaps into his throat as he thunders down the stairs and darts across the kitchen to the fireplace.

“Ginny!” Indeed, her bright, beautiful face is hovering there above the grate, and the sight of her squeezes his heart with fear. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Well, hello to you too,” she quips, good-naturedly shaking her head.

“How are you doing this?”

“I’m in McGonagall’s office,” she says as though this is something she does every day. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

His stomach turns over. She’s here to chuck him, he’s sure of it. She’s seen the paper and she’s decided that the hassle isn’t worth whatever benefit there is to dating him (if one even exists).

“Oh,” replies Harry, resigned as he drops down to the floor in front of the fireplace. “All right.”

Ginny tilts her head curiously to the side. “You look like someone’s just died,” she observes. “Is everything okay?”

“Well - I - erm - you go first,” he stammers out. “What’d you want to talk about?”

She squints at him, perplexed, then says, “Apparition lessons are starting tomorrow. The thing is, there’s so many people signed up this year - y’know, since we didn’t have them last year at all, it’s sixth and seventh years - that there isn’t room in the Great Hall so we’re doing them in Hogsmeade instead.”

Harry nods, unsure how to respond. If she’s chucking him, this is an odd way to begin the conversation. And if she’s not, then he’s not entirely why it’s so urgent to inform him about her Apparition lessons.

“So since the lessons are in the morning, McGonagall said we could stay in the village for lunch if we wanted to, so you can visit again.” The excitement on her face is painful to behold. “I just didn’t think a letter would make it to you in time, and I really want you there.”

Relief rushes through him - she is definitely not breaking up with him - but it is quickly replaced by guilt, because she looks so happy and so hopeful, and he loves her so much, and he doesn’t want to have to say what he’s about to say.

First, though, he leans forward and kisses her softly on her soot-tinged lips. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Ginny blinks. “Oh.”

“Just, with what was in the paper today-”

“Oh, that,” interjects Ginny. “Yeah, I thought it was ridiculous too-”

Guilt grips tighter at Harry’s chest. “I know, I’m so sorry. I had no idea they were even there, but I should have known to expect it by now-”

“But I still want to really see you tomorrow,” she says, looking earnestly up at him.

“I do too, but…” He lets out a long, slow breath. “It just isn’t a good idea.”

Ginny looks up at him again, an intensity in her eyes this time, and then nods decisively. “Right. I’m coming in there, can you pull me through?”

“Gin - you can’t just leave school-”

“What’re they going to do, expel me? Come on, pull me through.”

Her hand rises up from the grate. Harry grasps it and tugs until she materializes fully in front of him. As she steps out of the fireplace, she brushes off her robes and then drops down onto the cold tile floor beside him. Her right hand slips over his left and pulls it onto her lap, and their fingers entwine together automatically.

“I’ll be honest,” says Ginny, the tip of her thumb rubbing along the back of his. “I didn’t love the picture in the paper.”

“I’m so sorry-”

“Stop apologizing.” Her quiet voice carries immense patience; affection for her bubbles up inside of him. “I didn’t love the picture, and the article was…” She casts her eyes up to the ceiling in search of the right words. “Creative at best. But I also wasn’t surprised by any of it. I’m mostly amazed it hasn’t already happened.”

“That’s because we never used to go anywhere together,” Harry points out, and she nods her agreement. “But Ginny, it’s only going to get worse. There’s always going to be pictures and articles that make things up, it’s just part of my life. I just, I never wanted it to be part of yours.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” says Ginny, “but that’s completely stupid.”

Harry lets out a sputter of startled laughter. “Oh, is it?”

“Of course it’s going to be part of my life,” she tells him, eyes fixed on his, “because I chose to make you a part of my life. I didn’t have to get back together with you, you know.”

Despite himself, Harry laughs again. Somehow Ginny manages to make everything better, easier, lighter. He expected an awful, painful conversation, and instead they’re holding hands and laughing.

“I’ve always known what I was getting myself into,” she goes on. “People talked when we were together last year, too.”

“A little gossip from Romilda Vane is completely different from the Prophet printing things every day - which they’ll do, by the way, now they’ve got pictures of us together.”

Ginny shrugs. “So let them. I mean, if they’re going to do it regardless, then we shouldn’t stop living our lives.”

This is difficult to argue with, but there is still one nagging fear at the back of Harry’s mind, because now he has further proof that Ginny really is in this for the long haul with him. The wizarding world has been watching him since he was eleven, and he doesn’t expect that all of this public attention isn’t going away anytime soon.

“So, what about…” He looks down at their interlocked fingers, studying the way they fit together as though designed that way. “I mean, what if we - erm - got married, and - and had kids?”

Harry forces himself to meet her eyes and finds that same intensity burning there, the thing that kept him going on long, cold, hopeless nights in the tent, the very last thing he saw as he faced his own death.

That, and maybe just the slightest hint of a smile.

“If we have kids?” she repeats softly.

“Yeah, well - you can’t pick who your parents are, can you?”

“Maybe everyone’ll be bored of you by then,” Ginny offers up, inching closer to him and resting her head on his shoulder. “And if not, we’ll deal with it.”

“All right.” Harry angles his face towards hers so that their lips brush. “Just know that I wouldn’t blame you if you decided you’d like a quiet life.”

Ginny’s nose crinkles. “Sounds boring,” she says. “I’d rather have you.”

Their lips meet again, lingering together in soft, gentle kisses, and when Ginny pulls back to catch her breath, Harry realizes he has one last question.

“What’d the article say, anyway? I never even read it.”

Ginny sits up straight. “You haven’t read it?!”

“I was too angry!”

“It was rather brilliant, actually,” she says with relish. “It spoke a lot about what a scarlet woman I am, having had three whole boyfriends in my life-“

“Naturally-“

“But apparently now I’m even worse, because now…” She paused for dramatic effect. “I’m the one you’re cheating on Hermione with.”

Harry laughs and rolls his eyes. “As if Hermione and Ron weren’t just down the road from us?”

“Yeah, well.” Ginny planted a cheerful kiss on his cheek. “Let them say what they want.”

#harry potter #ginny weasley #2020 hinny discord incognito elf exchange #taylor swift

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jadekitty777 · 3 years

Text

The Thoughts We Carry

As promised, I had one entry near completion that I hoped be ready to post for @fairgameweek2021. I spent the last few days this week not getting enough sleep just to make the deadline (ssh I know it’s after midnight. Summaries are hard, okay?). I’m sorry I won’t have anything else ready in time, but I hope you all enjoy this one!

Day 4: Separation/Reunion

Dedicated to: @chiherah

Rating: K

Words: 6K

Summary: “I know everybody to some extent,” Qrow once told his nieces, and he hadn’t precisely been lying. At least, when it came to knowing other huntsmen in the four kingdoms, that is. Clover Ebi was just one of probably five-thousand examples. Yet, just as all shamrocks are clovers but not all clovers are shamrocks, all huntsmen are acquaintances but not all get to be friends.

That was why, upon arriving to Atlas, Qrow could tell there was more weighing on Clover’s mind than the Grimm addled streets of Mantle or Solitas’ fighter jet filled skies. More crushing, even, than the now-known threat of Salem on the horizon. A burden so great, it altered old routines and shadowed bright smiles.

And, as Qrow regarded the Aceops’ hasty roster change, he knew the solution to his friend’s plight was not one he’d need to seek, but one he’d need to bear.

Ao3 Link: The Thoughts We Carry

There were a few unanimous truths that came with being a huntsman:

The work was dangerous to the point most knew their future was beelining for a parking space in a graveyard.

Never falter in the heat of battle.

Keep bandages on hand because stemming an injury can extend a life from a few seconds to a few minutes.

Always know the best foods to forage in case civilization is too far or – worse yet – wiped out.

Pack light as work will require travel. It will require travel a lot.

Of all of them, the one Qrow was most familiar with was that last one. So much so, the towns he visited were just as much old friends to him as the people within them were. Vale and Patch were like playmates from primary school that were never forgotten no matter how much time had passed. Higanbaga was that party dude from university that always knew how to show him a good time. Atlas was that annoying classmate that he got stuck with one year on a group project and he was forced to put up with. And Mantle…

Mantle was that one struggling friend he knew could be doing better, if anyone would give it a break.

He felt that feeling in every swing of Harbinger, slicing through Grimm as he sidestepped potholes in the concrete and litter whirled up around his feet. Witnessed it when he peered through the city’s ever-present shadow to keep the kids in his line of sight, straining his ears to listen for the rest that shouts just blocks away nearly drowned out until they mysteriously stopped.

Despite knowing what it likely meant, he didn’t focus on it. He sheared through another Sabyr, and spun on his heels. Took in visual information in half a second: Weiss partially down an alleyway with Ren. Yang at his six. Blake a bit behind her. A Grimm leaping right for her.

His hand moved before his mind did, aiming Harbinger’s shotgun as Blake did the same with Gambol Shroud.

Another shot got it first.

A buzzing blast of green energy, not quite aura or dust, cleaved the beast in two. Similar shots rained from the sky, making quick work of the rest until the street was clear. The lampposts’ harsh red glows faded back to their calming yellow. From above, a drone expelling more green light rocketed up to the sky. As it hovered in the light of the moon and slowly floated down to ground level, its shape became more apparent and he could make out the features of a young girl with long, curling locks of ginger hair. Something about her was familiar.

It wasn’t until he heard Ruby’s choked gasp of “Penny?” that it clicked.

About a thousand questions rolled into his mind at once, but it was clear from the way his niece was suddenly bowled over by the enthusiastic android and the tears began to flow, that they’d have to wait.

After all, it wasn’t every day a cherished friend returned from the dead.

The other kids crowded around quickly, but Qrow couldn’t help but look to the one who lingered awkwardly on the sidelines, Oscar fidgeting with his cane the way Oz used to.

Something welled inside him that tasted a little like regret.

Not every day indeed.

It seemed ages before they started to make their way back to Pietro’s shop. Penny was deep in explanation on her miraculous revival, explaining how her memory chips had been recovered and her body repaired. In the back, Qrow let most of it float over his head. He wasn’t the only one.

“This is so… unexpected.”

He side-eyed Jaune, the blond’s face a mix of emotions that were hard to pin down. He couldn’t even begin to guess at what the other was trying to process. The joy of Penny’s return? The bitter unfairness it couldn’t happen for another that had been lost that day? The sorrow that Pyrrha now would never know that she hadn’t killed the android and could never make amends?

Whatever it was, it was definitely too much to handle on a regular day. Add two grueling battles, multiple aura breaks, and a long flight to Atlas on top of it all, it left little energy to deal with much else.

“But not unwelcome.” Qrow replied, catching his attention. “You don’t have to question the good things you get in life kid. You do that and you won’t stop to enjoy them.”

It was relieving it pulled out a small, but genuine, smile on the young man’s face. “That’s unusual advice coming from you.”

That’s because it wasn’t his.

Before he could think to respond, his sharp senses caught Ren tensing up. A sign he was detecting something.

His fingers were already halfway to his weapon when he heard it.

“Ah, and here I thought we had a problem. But it’s just Qrow again.”

His hand fell, a groan emitting from deep in his chest as he turned towards that painfully familiar voice. Sure enough, Clover and his poster squad of soldiers were heading their way. “Oh great, it’s you.”

“Salutations Captain Ebi!” Penny greeted with a salute.

"You know them Uncle Qrow?" Ruby asked. He could feel her curious stare burning through his cape.

"Yeah. They're Jimmy's attack dogs.” He scoffed at them. “Though considering we cleaned up this mess, they're more bark than bite."

Clover laughed, stopping just a few feet away. "You haven't changed a bit, have you?" He thumbed back the way they had come from. “Guessing you’re also the flyer of the unidentified Manta a mile west here, huh?”

“Uh, well,” He spluttered a bit, not sure how to explain that.

He didn’t have to, as the second-in-command spoke up for him, “I can’t believe you!” Harriet spat, quick in her temper as she was on her feet. “We almost deployed hostiles on that ship. You could have at least radioed in!”

“Well, see we woulda. ‘Cept our radio was on the fritz.” Yang stepped up beside him.

His other niece flanked his other side. “We didn’t mean to cause a stir, really.”

Qrow didn’t know whether to be proud of their synchronization, refined from years of getting out of groundings together, or concerned for their physical wellbeing as Elm’s eyes lit up with recognition.

“Oh Qrow, don’t tell me these are your cute little nieces!” She was in his youngest niece’s space almost instantly, shaking her hand with such enthusiasm Ruby looked a little dizzy. “I’m Elm. Qrow’s told us so much!”

“He has?”

“Oh yes, once he gets going, he can never shut up about you two. It’s endearing.”

He did his best to ignore the teasing nudges Yang gave him or the flush working its way up his neck.

“Wait, hold up a second.” Another of the soldiers interjected. “You’re the Qrow Branwen? You don’t look anything like what I thought you would.”

As his eyes met with the other’s, Qrow realized with a start he didn’t know him. “And you are?” He spat a bit harder than he meant to.

He felt a little bad when it made the Faunus shrink back a bit, his wagging tail slowing. “I, erm-”

“Oh right, you haven’t met. This is our newest recruit, Marrow Amin. He’s a bit fresh, but has been an outstanding addition.” Clover spoke up, clapping a hand on his shoulder like a proud father. It was the slight twitch at the side of his mouth that gave away he was trying very hard not to drop his smile.

The kid definitely didn’t notice, his tail wagging at full speed once again.

Qrow decided to shelve it for now.

Thankfully, the quietest member was quick to draw all the attention his way as Vine cleared his throat and spoke over them, “As pleasing as this reunion is, I believe taking this discussion away from the middle of the street would be more comfortable.”

“Right.” Clover nodded, straightening up. “The General is expecting our report and, though unanticipated, I’m certain he’d be happy to accommodate your arrival.” He tipped his head towards Weiss. “We’ll contact your sister on the way in as well. Lieutenant Schnee will be relieved to know you made it back safely.”

Despite the propaganda recordings still running on loop overhead, Weiss couldn’t hide her happiness. “That would be wonderful.”

“Sooo, when you say accommodate, you mean beds? And food?” Nora piped up hopefully.

Elm grinned. “Mess hall is always open. All you can eat!”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Oh, I like you.”

In the corner of his eye, Qrow could see Ruby shifting uncertainly. He rested a hand on her back reassuringly. This wasn’t what they’d hoped for. They had wanted to gather more information before they approached James. But it’d be suspicious not to take it and the last thing they needed was for things to go south when they were so close to the finish line.

They would just have to hope they hadn’t lost James’ loyalty like they had Leo’s.

“We could certainly use it.” He finally said. “Lead the way boy scout.”

Though sleep came fast that night, Qrow didn’t rest easy. Despite the exhaustion weighing him down, his mind refused to quiet, whirling over and over again on an anxious loop. James’ flawed plans for Amity if they didn’t tell him the truth. Oz’s deceits. The relic still resting out in the open. Salem’s unknown course of action.

Normally, when his brain was this busy, he’d drown it in alcohol. Let everyone else figure it out as long as he could get some rest from it all. But that wasn’t an option anymore. He wouldn’t allow it to be.

That was how he found himself dragging himself out of bed at the crack of dawn and wandering down the already bustling halls. Anywhere else, he’d say it would be weird to be walking past so many people so early; but Atlas had the majority of its’ facility and students on a strict military schedule. Something about how it taught basic discipline and the sleep regimen was good for promoting better health and performance.

It was a crime against sleeping in is what it was.

Despite the fact his last visit had been well over a year ago, Qrow had no trouble navigating the uniform halls, finding his way to the Ace-Ops’ quarters in record time. He knocked twice, only having to wait a few seconds before the door was flung open. The cartoon flamingos on Harriet’s pajamas seemed to mock the rest of the academy already starting the day.

It’s tactical, Clover had told him once when he’d questioned the special treatment.

Privileged, Qrow had corrected snidely, ignoring the multitude of night crews given the same benefits.

Sometimes it was just fun to see if he could get a rise out of Mr. Perfect.

Speaking of, a quick sweep over Harriet’s hairline told him he was nowhere in the room. He did spot the others though, seated around the dining table. Elm had her hair wrapped up in a towel and a piece of toast in hand. Vine was sipping on tea and scrolling through news. Marrow was giving him that same starstruck look from yesterday, a spoonful of cereal only halfway on its journey to his mouth.

“Boy scout ain’t here?” Qrow asked.

Harriet quirked an eyebrow. “He’s in the garden.”

On a Tuesday? That was new.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Guess I’ll be on my way then. See ya.” He gave her a nod of farewell, heading down the hall.

“Hey, Branwen!” He paused, seeing Harriet leaning out the doorframe, her stare almost challenging. “If you start antagonizing him, I’ll kick your ass.”

That was… also new.

He smirked. “Like to see you try speedy.”

She only scoffed. From within, he heard Marrow pipe up, “Hare! You can’t say that to-” The rest of it was cut off by the door closing, but he had a feeling it ended with ‘The Qrow Branwen.’

He started down the hall again, the foreboding that had been weighing on him since last night quickening his pace.

It didn’t take him long to get to the garden. Natural to Atas’ standards, the room was as grand as could be. Twice as large as the training facility, the greenery filled every inch of space, broken only by specifically designed pathways students or staff could traverse. Some ran to small manmade ponds with wooden bridges built over them where koi fish would swim underneath while others led to displays of delicately trimmed hedges shaped to look like animals. As there was no plant life in Solitas’ ecosystem, everything in the room had been imported. Desert roses from Vacuo, sage bushes from Vale, black pines from Anima. There were even some sunflowers he’d brought years ago from Tai’s little patch at home, still valiantly clinging to life among the rosemary bushes.

Practically on autopilot, Qrow went down the right-most path which wound along to the far side of the garden, where the trees grew taller and the branches hung down like arms reaching out for a hand, close enough for him to reach up and touch. There was one in particular, a lone willow, which had become a popular hiding spot due to its’ thick, curtain-like tresses. So much so, that it had become better known as the Kissing Tree. Though it was too early for anyone to be there now, more than once, he and Clover had stumbled upon a pair of students trying to sneak in a private moment between classes.

To say nothing of the numerous times when the tree was empty and Clover would always wink at him and say, “Looks like there’s room for two.”

The first time, Qrow had been too shocked to respond. Every time after, he’d wave him off and say, “As if you could handle me.”

Clover would laugh and they would continue on, sometimes to the exit.

But more often than not, it was on their way in to the pen.

Compared to the rest of the room, the five-foot, stock panel metal fencing was a bit of an eyesore. Doubly so with the glowing blue devices placed on every post that would activate if anyone without clearance attempted to enter. Hence why it was kept in the back.

But for Clover, it was the best place in the entire garden. Qrow could already see him to one side of the cage, sitting on a bale of hay, gently grooming a lop-eared rabbit resting in his lap while another dozen of various breeds hopped about his feet. The soldier was humming a peppy tune, so lost in his own world he didn’t notice Qrow at the gate.

“Annabelle’s eating your laces.” He announced as he tapped his scroll on the gate’s scanner.

Clover jerked a bit, but not enough to disturb Dumpling, who only thumped his back leg for his attention to continue. He rested one hand on the lop’s back, shooing Annabelle away with the other, “Lil’ menace.” Before acknowledging Qrow with a nod and a “Good morning.”

“Was looking for you.” He replied, shutting the door behind him.

The second he had, Jynx honed in on him like a missile, torpedoing across the pen in seconds to race excited circles around his feet. Clover watched the antics with a teasing smile. “Somehow, I only half believe that.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Qrow carefully stepped around the dwarf rabbit and as he made his way over, plucked a daffodil from the treat container kept on a high-mounted shelf. He sat beside Clover on another hay bale, Jynx wasting no time as she leapt onto his legs and flopped onto her side. So content she was, she didn’t even bother to lift her head when he offered the flower, just munched it down when it got close enough to her mouth. He rolled his eyes, running a hand through her soft, black fur. “Still lazy as ever.”

“She can’t help it if she takes after her handler.” Clover pointed out as he returned to his brushing.

“Making fun of yourself over there, boy scout? ‘Cause I ain’t the parent here. I’m the uncle who spoils her rotten.”

Normally, they’d go at it for a while like this, trading verbal blows that were about as harmful as throwing a handful of feathers at one another would be.

Today, it was clear his friend wasn’t in the mood when he only hummed and said, “I suppose.”

In the quiet that followed, it gave him a chance to really look the other man over. Though he was prim and proper as ever, with clothes neatly pressed and boots shined enough to reflect the light, his face told the true story. Between the deeper lines under his eyes and slight graying at the base of his crew cut, Clover appeared as if he’d aged a decade overnight. Burdened by the weight of worlds’ most damning secrets.

Ones that he knew only got worse the deeper the hole was dug. Qrow felt so far under at this point, he wasn’t sure he’d find the sky again. And the worst part was, the only action he had left was to choose if he wanted to toss the next person the shovel.

Regardless of his convictions to be as candid and brusque as possible to his friends and family, the idea of burying Clover along with him was terrifying.

A quiet chattering drew his eyes back to Jynx. Her eyes were half-closed in blissful contentment, unaware and detached from the woes of her people. He rubbed a finger between her ears, the way he’d learned she liked all the way back when she was small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. Back when she was so tiny, they’d almost missed her when clearing out the illegal dust testing facility deep in Mantle’s suburbs five years ago.

The mission had been a spur of the moment thing. He’d been tracing one of Salem’s subordinates when the Captain approached him. He still recalled how Clover had buttered him up as he explained that with one of their teammates sick, he was in need of a fifth and he ‘just couldn’t think of anyone more suited than Qrow’.

He wouldn’t say it worked or anything but, well, it just so happened the person he was looking for was also said to be someone of ‘scientific talent’. He’d taken the job completely on the merit of it being a potential lead, but if Clover wanted to shower him with compliments in the meantime, who was he to complain?

Next thing he knew, he was knocking a needle-wielding chemist unconscious and lifting guinea pigs out of overcrowded cages.

It took nearly the entire day to clear the facility. Most of the animals were either unaccustomed to being handled or traumatized from it, and it was difficult to recage them without risk of further injury. It was eventually left to the animal experts that had to be called in. Yet, despite the mission being technically fulfilled, Clover had been stubborn to leave, trying to find ways for them to contribute and becoming agitated if anyone tried to derail him.

Even at the time, when Qrow hadn’t yet known the younger huntsman well, he’d understood the behavior was unusual for the other man. It was hard to say if he simply became driven to assist, his soft spot for animals painfully clear, or if it was some mild form of Hunter’s Shock, the stress and horror of the situation putting him into a repetitive state.

Whatever it was, it was clear they were stuck there until the job was done.

So, mostly trying to look busy while staying out of the way, Qrow had found himself lazily strolling through the basement’s already emptied cage ring when his eyes, sharpened by years of looking down the barrel of a shotgun, caught the almost undetectable movement of hay breathing. Sure enough, brushing it aside revealed one of the smallest rabbits he’d ever seen – though she certainly had the loudest cry when he picked her up.

Like a mother responding to a distressed child, the Captain came running. Though his expression was quick to melt when he spotted them, easing into a smile for the first time that afternoon.

Lucky Number 13, Clover had cooed to her while Qrow cradled the shaking thing against his chest. He’d carried her the entire way back to Atlas, afraid she’d get lost or injured among the other hundred animals they’d rescued. At some point, she’d bonded with him.

“More like imprinted!” Tortuga had joked whenever the subject was brought up.

Keeping the rabbits after the mission hadn’t been planned, but Clover had managed to pull enough strings on Jimmy’s iron heart that the General had come out of it thinking he’d thought up the idea all along. The pen was made in record time and the recovering warren was introduced to their new home. Within days, each rabbit had a name, a toy, a bed and enough treats to hibernate a grizzly bear. Mostly provided by the Captain himself, though some of the other facility and students had donated to the cause.

They were officially presented as a wildlife addition to the garden – they were unofficially and more truthfully known as Captain Ebi’s pets.

Though the rabbits didn’t need constant care and the gardeners attended to their daily needs, Clover still swung by frequently, fitting them into a daily routine he kept to like clockwork. Monday and Friday mornings were given over to training. Tuesdays and Thursdays to team-building with the Ops through sharing or even making breakfast together. Weekends and Wednesdays were reserved for garden visits.

The reason for the change was obvious, but Qrow wasn’t quite ready to ask.

“So. Jimmy told you.” He stated instead.

Clover nodded. “Yeah. He did.”

“And… how are you doing?”

He’d been twenty years younger, when he’d been in Clover’s position. Barely graduated, when he took that first walk through the vault, Ozpin spinning grand stories and waving magic to life before his very eyes. He remembered how terrified he had been. He was just some feral kid from the forests of Anima who could barely figure out how his own Scroll worked. In what possible way was he up to the task of saving the world?

After being in the fold as long as he had, he quickly learned even people more capable than himself all tended to feel the gravity of the job.

Even someone as confidant and unshakable as Clover was not immune, his sigh long and drawn out. “Honestly? It’s a little overwhelming. I actually thought, that uh,” He laughed embarrassedly, “James had lost his mind.”

Qrow blinked.

Maybe the world really was ending.

“I woulda paid money to see that.” He teased.

Clover pinched him. “Oh shut up.” The lack of brushing made Dumpling start to fuss again, but rather than continue to pamper him, Clover set the lop back on the grass, before he lent back, letting out another of those long sighs. “I’ve been thinking a lot about how when I was a kid, I used to think the only way Atlas could possibly stay in the sky like it does was from magic. Then I grew up and the academy taught me different. It’s… terrifying, realizing how easy it’s been to lie to a whole nation’s worth of people.”

“Guess that means you agree with Jimmy’s plan then.” Qrow surmised.

“You don’t?” He challenged back, frowning. “We have thousands of people roaming these halls, none of them knowing that a few floors down lies one of the most powerful objects in the world. Don’t they deserve to know that one day they might be in charge of protecting it?”

Shifting uncomfortably, he averted his gaze, mumbling, “I never really thought about it. I trusted Oz to make those kinds of calls. And now he’s-” He felt his chest tighten, guilt a healed-over bruise pulsing on his knuckles. “Gone. Again.”

“I can imagine how lost that makes you feel.”

“I mean, I guess.” He grumbled, if only to save face.

But deep down, he knew Clover was right. Qrow wasn’t like him, or Oz, or James, or Summer or even Ruby. He needed someone to guide him on the right path. He screwed up things enough merely by existing – he couldn’t make it worse by trying to also make critical decisions.

Maybe it was that thought that made him add, “Starting to think I wasn’t cut out for this whole gig. All I’ve done is drag my nieces and their little friends into this whole mess and nearly got ‘em all killed. Isn’t really comparable to ‘restoring world communications’.”

“Yeah, I suppose being on the front lines at Haven and ensuring a relic didn’t fall into Salem’s hands is a bit more impressive.” Before he could even try to argue, Clover placed a hand on his shoulder and said, “We’ve all had to make some tough calls lately, but I know those kids were in good hands when one of the best huntsmen in all of Remnant was at their side.”

He could feel a blush creeping up his neck. “You’re just saying that because you’re completely starstruck with me.”

“I am.” The admittance was said with absolutely no hesitation, the man’s smile growing. “Qrow, some of my very best missions have been the ones I’ve gotten to go on with you. I admire you. Not because of your skill, but because you’ve never let the job change you. You scoff at your own fame and you don’t take missions looking at lien signs first. You do it for the right reasons, every time. I think that’s amazing.”

The blush was definitely on his face now.

Worse yet, the doubts and worries that had weighed on his mind for days now seemed to lighten, just a little bit.

Gods be damned, how did he always do that?

With no idea how to respond, he mumbled out a soft, “Thanks” hoping it came out more sincere than awkward.

“Anytime.” Thankfully, Clover backed off a bit, focusing back on the rabbits at his feet, picking up Bolt. Having gotten his name from how skittish he was, the cottontail took time to calm enough so he could be brushed.

Long enough for Qrow to compose himself before he spoke again. “So, how have things been otherwise?”

“They’ve been…” His shoulders fell, “Rough.”

Any doubts Qrow might have had before about the Ace Ops’ unannounced replacement crumbled right alongside Clover’s normally strong posture.

He shut his eyes, taking in a deep, bracing breath. As he focused on his friend once more, it was with all the unexpecting kindness he could muster that he asked, “Do you want to talk about him?” For a split second, Clover looked just like the rabbit in his lap – ready to sprint as far away as he could from danger. So Qrow quickly added, “You don’t have to, if you’re not ready.”

Silence blanketed over them like a snowstorm, cold and desolate. The kind of weather that blew in fast and came down slow, pressing everything into such an unnoticed hush most didn’t notice their homes being covered until they looked up and saw they were six feet under. That’s where Clover seemed to be now, stuck inside and standing at the front door, uncertain if he was prepared to create the unavoidable mess it would take to dig his way outside.

Only this time, Qrow had given him the shovel. He just had to use it.

Leaving the soldier to sort out his emotions, Qrow idly pet Jynx, fingers scoring through her sleek black fur.

And he waited.

His gaze drifted to the ring of Cypress trees that bordered outside of the pen.

And he waited some more.

When Clover finally did speak, it seemed a struggle, the words fighting their way out. “Can you imagine how it was for us that day, when we watched our own Knights turn on Vale’s citizens? It was like a nightmare. We didn’t know what had happened. No one did. Without James to explain – to speak for himself – the council started shutting down units left and right. The AKs, the paladins, even our Manta Flyers. We had to rip out billions of lien in automated equipment just so we could fly down to Mantle.”

As if he were a Flyer himself, Bolt suddenly leapt out of his lap, landing back on the grass below. He quickly crowded himself between Orion and Sirias, trusting the giant Altexs to protect him.

Clover just let him go, dropping the brush beside himself as he shook his head. “By the time we got there, the city was overrun. Normally, we’d have enough firepower to deal with it. But James had brought most of the troops with him. Even when they came back, none of them were allowed to deploy to the field until they got questioned. It was a mess. Students and soldiers were kept in lockdown. James was incarcerated. It was months before we learned anything. And every day the public was kept in the dark, every day people feared the other kingdoms would come for us, was another day Grimm surged to our borders.”

It was a familiar story. Beacon’s fall shook the world in a brutal way, leaving no Kingdom untouched. Borders closing. Grimm everywhere. The peace between nations suddenly balancing on a delicate string, just waiting for something to break it.

Yet of everything that had come after that one, awful night, it was the personal losses that struck the hardest.

“I kept telling my own team to just… hold on another day. That things would get better soon. But then-” Clover choked for a second, having to swallow hard. “We got a report of a nest of Centinels in the basement of an apartment complex downtown. We were still cleaning up some stragglers nearby, so I sent Harriet and Tortuga ahead. It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes before Harriet started radioing in. ‘The building came down!’ she kept screaming. I’d never heard her so panicked.”

Qrow sucked in a sharp breath and for a second, he was right there with the other huntsman. Except, for him, it was with a scroll in his ear and Oz’s grief-filled voice shattering his soul as the headmaster told him one of his closest friends wasn’t coming home.

The flash of memory faded as quick as it had come, but the heaviness in his heart stayed as Clover pressed on.

“She told us that some Centinel acid had melted through a supporting wall. Tortuga had been slowing the damage while Harriet tried to get all the occupants out in time. Any other day, they could have done it. If we weren’t all running on empty, I know they could have. Instead, they were only halfway through when suddenly, it all just came down. Harriet was outside when it happened.” Clover lent forward, hay crunching under his grasp as he clutched onto it. “The whole time I was running to their position, I kept telling her everything would be fine. I’d use my luck and we’d pull him out and he’d probably laugh at us for worrying so much. Never knowing it didn’t matter how much luck I had.” He chuckled. It was a hollow, broken noise. “He was already gone. The pathologists said he’d died instantly.”

Then that chuckle turned into a sob.

Knowing better than most that there were no words that made this part easier, Qrow did the only thing he could as he slid a hand along the other’s back and tugged him close.

It was a quarter to nine by the time they were getting ready to leave. Clover gave one last cursory check to the food and water while Qrow mentally counted the warren for a fourth time – they didn’t need another incident like when Snowblossom escaped and terrorized the lavender field. He’d finished his count by the time Clover was ushering him through the gate.

He’d finished it again when it locked behind them.

As they started around the first bend of the path, he almost couldn’t fight the urge to go back just to be safe.

Luckily, Clover was a great distraction. “So now that you’re in Atlas, what do you and your entourage plan to do?”

“Uh.” Was that a trick question? “Help with Jimmy’s pet project, obviously.”

“Besides that. It’s not like we’re going to work you all 24/7.”

Qrow wouldn’t mind if they did. At least, for him. Free time seemed… dangerous, when he’d used to fill it with taking shots at the nearest bar. Really, the more he thought about it, the more he realized he didn’t really do much else. When he was bored, he went to a bar. When he had a day off, he went to a bar. When he was looking to have fun, he went to a bar. When he didn’t want to see people, then he skipped the bar, got a six pack, and drank himself to oblivion.

Shit.

He was going to have to find a hobby, wasn’t he?

In the end, he shrugged, replying glumly, “Guess we’ll have to figure it out.”

“What about training?” Clover held up a hand in a gesture of peace as Qrow frowned at him. “Not you. The kids. There’s going to be a lot ahead for all of us and the sooner we get used to working together, the better. And, well, considering their age I’m sure some of them are still rough around the edges too.”

He snorted, but didn’t argue that fact. Really, all of them were incredibly skilled, but that didn’t mean perfection. Ren was still flaking in the stamina department. Weiss had to work on her spatial awareness. Jaune needed, well, everything. After years of being a combat teacher, it wasn’t hard to pick out the kids’ flaws. To say nothing of Oscar who, without Oz as a crutch, probably would be better off if they just shipped him into a witness protection program.

It was time that worked against them all. Ideally, it’d be best enrolling them back into school, were they could finish off their graduate programs and gain the wisdoms of various professors who could help them hone their talents. But, seeing as that wasn’t in the cards, he supposed getting some pointers from some of the best Atlas had to offer was a decent replacement.

“I’m sure they’d like that.” Qrow could already imagine how Ruby would bounce off the walls at the idea of getting trained by real huntsmen. As if he were chopped liver, or something.

(He could also already picture her waving his complaints away. “Uncles don’t count. You’re obligated to do nice things for me.”)

“Great! We can work out a schedule once you’re all a bit more settled.” Clover was practically glowing, as if he couldn’t wait to start penning things in on his calendar. Dork.

Yet, he’d take this much happier, lively Clover over the despairing, grieving one he’d just consoled any day of the year.

In fact, the air was so much lighter than it had been, as they rounded another bend and the willow tree came into sight, he was already preparing himself for the other man to drop his usual line, retort already on the tip of his tongue.

Yet, as they came level with it, Clover did something even more daring as he reached across the space between them and caught Qrow’s hand in his.

He stared down at this grand declaration, then up at Clover himself, meeting questing, hopeful eyes.

Heart racing, he curled his fingers over Clover’s, and despite the other’s rounded knuckles or his own lanky fingers, despite mismatched calluses and hairline scars, despite the rings or the gloves, they seemed a perfect fit.

Perhaps, Qrow wouldn’t be so bored in Atlas after all.

#qrow branwen #clover ebi #fair game #fairgameweek2021 #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

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helloalycia · 4 years

Text

kiss me again // rory gilmore

summary: you're new to Stars Hollow and find yourself making friends with your new neighbours, the Gilmores. You certainly didn't expect to develop a crush on your new friend.

warning/s: none, just fluff tbh

author's note: i've got a handful of rory gilmore imagines written from like a year or 2 ago? wanna post them eventually so they're out of my drafts lol

masterlist | wattpad

"Thank you, Mr. Danes, this means a lot." I smiled appreciatively at the older man.

"Luke," he said, offering a small, almost-forced smile. He seemed very serious, but nice nonetheless. "You can call me Luke."

"Luke." I nodded and stood up from my seat at the counter. "When would you like me to start?"

He wiped down the counter as he said, "Tomorrow after school good for you?"

I grinned eagerly, excited to start working at Luke's diner. "Tomorrow after school is perfect. I guess I'll see you then."

He merely nodded and I took that as his confirmation before leaving. Getting a job was something I'd been meaning to do since moving here last week.

My parents and I had moved to Stars Hollow and I was still getting to know the place, but Luke's seemed like a friendly enough place to work. I'd only worked once, and that was at my local coffee shop back home in Chicago, so that experience must have made Luke consider me. I preferred being self-sufficient, and my parents definitely didn't mind, so a job was what I was after. And now I had it!

Settling in here wasn't too bad. The town was definitely different to my old one – everyone was too friendly here. Not that that was an issue, but it did feel strange.

I was riding my bike through town, smiling as I saw the mayor – Taylor something or the other? – in a small debacle with some woman. She seemed amused as he threw a mini tantrum. I didn't know too many people just yet, but some people at school had told me about Taylor. He was a character, alright.

I left my bike by the gates to our new house and headed inside, calling out for my parents.

"Mum?! Dad?! You home?!"

A moment of silence, before: "In the kitchen!"

I headed to the kitchen, past the moving-in boxes full of our stuff, and saw my mum sat at the kitchen table, hunched over some papers. She smiled as she saw me walk in.

"How was Luke's, honey?" she asked as I leaned down to give her a kiss.

I smiled as I remembered the good news. "I start tomorrow! Awesome, right?"

"Aw, sweetie, that's amazing! I'm happy for you. Your dad's at work, but I'm sure he'll love to get a call from you."

I nodded. "Thanks, mum."

The next day rolled around pretty quickly. School wasn't very exciting, but I was settling in well which was a good sign, I guess. After school though, I headed straight to Luke's with a bounce in my step. First day jitters took over a little.

"Y/N, hey!" Luke greeted when I walked in.

It wasn't very busy in here, since the lunch rush had ended, so Luke was filling up the salt and pepper shakers at the counter.

"Hey, I hope I'm on time," I said nervously, offering a small smile. "I was running a little late."

He waved his hand dismissively. "You're all good. You can leave your bag in the back, Caesar will show you where, and then I'll get you started on the basics. Serving coffee."

I chuckled. "Awesome."

I rounded the counter and headed into the back (Luke had given me the tour yesterday), where Caesar showed me where to put my bag, and also gave me an apron. Was it nerdy of me to get excited over the apron? Because I was.

When I returned to the front, Luke pointed to the coffee maker.

"You like coffee, Y/N?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I pursed my lips into a sheepish smile. "Will I get fired if I say no?"

He shrugged and handed me the pot as it finished brewing. "I'm not bothered as long as you can serve it without spilling it."

I accepted the pot and nodded confidently. "That I can do."

He nodded and got back to the salt and pepper shakers. "Okay, well, just refill anyone who asks. If anyone orders food, write it down and give it to Caesar. Deliver the food and that's really it. Pretty simple, so don't worry about screwing up or anything."

I nodded. "Gotcha."

"Can I get some coffee over here, please?" a customer called out, to which I perked up at.

"And that's my cue," I joked as I went to the customer.

Luke suppressed a smile and we both resumed with our jobs. This went on for about twenty minutes and I managed not to break, spill or drop anything. I wasn't exactly clumsy, but sometimes nerves got to me. Unsurprisingly enough, this was a pretty easy job, so it was going well so far. Then again, it had only been twenty minutes.

The bell rang signalling someone had entered, but I had my back to it as I collected some food from Caesar.

"Luke! If there isn't coffee cup waiting for me, I will most definitely melt into a puddle of stress!"

As I delivered food to this strange yet polite guy, Kirk, I caught a glimpse of the loud customer who had entered. A young woman and possibly her younger sister were seated at the counter. Luke didn't seem bothered by their cheerful, noisy presence (which he usually was with others), so I presumed they knew each other well.

"Lorelai, in case you didn't notice, the diner was pretty quiet until you walked in," Luke said knowingly, though he was filling a cup for the woman anyway.

"Yeah, mom, why can't you be more like me? Quiet yet adorable," the younger girl wearing a school uniform said with an adorable smile.

The woman – Lorelai, who I recognised as the woman laughing at Taylor yesterday in town – was smirking at her daughter (how was she a mother when she looked so young?!) as Luke rolled his eyes and gave her a cup of coffee.

"Luke?! The oven is doing something weird!" I heard Caesar shout from the back.

"Uh oh, that doesn't sound good," Lorelai said teasingly.

"Can I get a coffee over here?" a customer called from the other side of the diner.

"Luke!"

"You might wanna check that out, Luke," the younger girl said with a laugh. "And a cup of coffee would be great."

"Yeah, I know," Luke said, growing irritated with Caesar's yelling. He looked around before saying to me, "Can you brew another pot of coffee whilst I see what Caesar's shouting about?"

I smiled and nodded. "You got it, boss."

As Luke headed to the back, I went behind the counter to make some more coffee.

"Luke hired someone new?"

I turned around as I heard Lorelai mention me. She smiled brightly my way.

"Uh, hi, I'm Y/N Y/L/N," I introduced with a nervous smile. "I just started, like, twenty or so minutes ago?"

Lorelai seemed impressed as she looked at my apron. "And not a coffee stain in sight. I'm impressed."

I chuckled. "Yeah, I guess so. Though I can't guarantee the apron will make it by the end of my shift."

Lorelai laughed before saying, "I haven't seen you around town before. Are you new?"

"Yeah, my family and I moved to Stars Hollow last week."

Lorelai nodded as she took a sip of her coffee, before widening her eyes and saying, "You're beeping delivery driver people!"

I smiled with confusion and quirked an eyebrow. "Erm, sorry?"

Lorelai nudged her daughter, who was staring at me with her bright blue eyes. "Remember? Beeping delivery driver people?"

The daughter, who zoned back into reality and looked to her mum, nodded slowly. "Yeah, yeah."

"I'm really not getting this." I laughed nervously as I checked the coffee pot. Almost done.

Lorelai sat up straight and smiled. "You moved in down the street from us. Your delivery driver was beeping really loudly for some reason, hence beeping delivery driver people."

I snickered. "Ah, that makes sense now."

"I'm Lorelai Gilmore," she finally introduced with a grin. "And this oddly silent clone is my daughter, Rory."

I grabbed the pot of coffee and said, "Oh, well, nice to meet some neighbours. I'm Y/N, as you know." I stopped in front of the daughter, Rory, and said, "Did you want some coffee?"

Rory looked at me, seeming a little speechless. I felt nervous under her intense gaze, wondering if I had food on my face or something, but waited patiently.

"Rory, sweetie, anything alive in there?" Lorelai joked, shaking her daughter's arm.

Rory cleared her throat and smiled awkwardly. I could no longer meet her eyes because they were too intense and I felt like she was judging me for some reason.

"Sorry, uh, yeah, coffee. Coffee would be great," she finally spoke.

I chuckled a little and grabbed a cup from underneath the counter. After filling it up, I said, "If you guys need anything, just let me know."

I went back to filling up other people's coffees and dishing out food, all whilst paying a little attention to the Gilmore girls who were tucked into unreciprocated banter with Luke. I also stole a few glances at Rory – she was strange, quiet, but intriguing. Also, I was sure I felt her looking my way at times.

"Y/N, you free?" I heard my name and turned around to see Lorelai waving me over.

I headed over, setting the dirty plates at Caesar's, before standing behind the counter. "What's up?"

Lorelai smiled mischievously. "Rory and I were wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner. Well, you and your parents. You know, a little neighbourly welcoming into town."

Rory almost choked on her coffee before spluttering out, "We were?"

Lorelai ignored her. "So? What d'you say?"

I shrugged. "I guess so. But like, you don't have to. I don't want us to be a bother."

Lorelai waved her hand dismissively. "Pfft, nonsense. As long as you're okay with chinese takeout."

"Hmm, I'm not sure about chinese," I joked.

"I can settle for Italian, but that's my final offer," she played along.

I laughed. "Italian sounds great."

"Great! We'll see you, say... tomorrow evening? Our house is the one with the mailbox that says Gilmore."

I nodded. "Thanks. We'll see you then."

Lorelai smiled before standing up with her daughter. She left some cash on the counter, including a tip, before waving goodbye. I waved in return, even to Rory who seemed awkward and shy.

After my shift, I told my parents about Lorelai and Rory and the dinner invitation, and they seemed up to it, so that's where I found myself the next day at dinner.

"Please don't embarrass me," I begged a final time as we approached the door.

"What do you honestly think we're going to say?" my dad asked with a chuckle. "That you didn't sleep in your own bed until you were 7?"

"Or that you wore the same Mickey Mouse shirt every day for 2 weeks in third grade?" my mum added.

"Or that you arrange your bookshelf by favourite protagonist?"

"Or that–"

"Okay, I get it!" I cut my mother off before she could finish. "Geez, next time I won't say anything."

My parents both pulled me in for a side hug as I grumbled to myself. I really hoped they wouldn't embarrass me in front of these new people. It was a small town and I was sure word would spread if I did something stupid.

After what felt like forever, the front door finally opened to reveal Rory in a lovely dress and cheery smile.

"Hello! Please, come in," she said politely, stepping to the side. "I'm Rory Gilmore."

My parents walked in, earning a smile from the younger Gilmore, and I followed behind, only to meet her eyes and receive a nervous smile.

"Ah, Rory, yes," my mum said kindly. "Y/N mentioned you. I'm Y/M/N, Y/N's mum and this is my husband, Y/D/N."

"Lovely to meet you, Rory," my dad said.

Rory blushed a little before saying, "You guys can take off your coats and I'll hang them up for you. You can go straight into the kitchen and my mom should be there with the food."

"Thank you, dear," my mum said as she handed her coat over. My dad and I did the same before we all went to the kitchen.

"Hey, Lorelai," I said as I walked in. She was setting the food out on the table when she saw me.

"Y/N, hey," she said, smiling my way, before her eyes drifted to my parents. "And these must be the parents! Hello! I'm Lorelai Gilmore, mother of Rory."

Everyone got acquainted and we all took a seat in the kitchen to indulge in some good old pizza.

"I hope this is okay," Lorelai said as we all tucked in. "I'm not exactly the best cook, so I figured you can't go wrong with takeout."

"Not the best is an understatement," Rory added. "It's either pizza or death by food poisoning."

Lorelai shoved her daughter playfully as we all laughed.

"This is fine, Lorelai," my mum said with an amused smile. "Pizza is a go-to in our house too, what with Y/D/N and I working a lot and Y/N insisting we eat pizza all the time."

"Hey, pizza is beautiful and you've never complained before," I defended, earning chuckles all around.

"What is it you both do, if you don't mind me asking?" Lorelai asked, and cue the boring job discussion.

My parents were realtors which meant we moved around a little, and it was cool, after you hadn't heard it a million times over. I was more interested in Lorelai's answer. She worked at an inn just outside Stars Hollow which was interesting. Her bubbly persona was totally understandable now.

"So, Y/N, how are you settling in at school?" Lorelai asked, and it took me a moment to realise she was talking to me.

"Hm? Oh, school."

She suppressed a laugh. "Bored you already? That can't be good."

I felt my cheeks heat up with embarrassment. "No, gosh, no, sorry. I just got a little lost in my thoughts... School is good. It's just school, isn't it?"

My dad rolled his eyes. "She's modest. She's brainy this one. Already enrolled in the debate team, started up as a librarian and staying back at lunches to help her English teacher. She loves school."

"Remember that thing I said outside before we walked in?" I said to my dad with a sarcastic smile. "This is it. This is what you're doing."

Lorelai laughed. "Hold on, hold on, let me guess. You guys got the 'don't embarrass me' talk, too?"

"Nailed it," my mum answered.

I sat there smiling with embarrassment as they laughed at mine, and now Rory's, dismay.

"So, Rory, you go to Chilton? You mentioned earlier on," my dad switched the attention from me, thank god.

"Uh, yeah, just started actually," she replied with a nervous smile.

"Well I hope everything is working out for you," my mum told her. "You must be very intelligent."

Rory seemed embarrassed as she nodded in response. Her cheeks were a bright red in contrast to her blue eyes.

The parents mostly made conversation as Rory and I stayed silent and listened, chiming in every now and then.

Eventually they seemed to notice though, as Lorelai said, "Why don't you guys head into Rory's room? Rory, honey, you can show her your books or something."

"Uhh..."

"You don't need to do that," I assured her, noticing her awkwardness.

"She's fine," Lorelai said, nudging her. "Go on."

"Go on, Y/N," my dad urged, doing the same.

Rory and I, practically forced to mingle, stood up and I followed her to her room, which was connected to the kitchen. I could hear my parents and Lorelai making their way to the living-room, probably with wine, and so I knew we wouldn't be leaving for another half hour or so.

Rory closed the door behind us and motioned to the room. "This is it, really."

I looked around at her spacious room. It was very clean and seemed very organised, which made sense because that was just the vibe Rory gave off.

"It's cute," I complimented with a smile, hoping to ease the awkwardness. "Clean. Organised."

She merely smiled, her cheeks still a little red from embarrassment.

I stepped in a little more and noticed her bookshelf. "D'you mind if I take a look?"

"Feel free," she said before taking a seat on her bed.

I browsed her bookshelf and immediately noticed it wasn't organised alphabetically. Nerdy, yes, but I was curious.

"Is there a reason for the way you've ordered your books or...?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound like a loser.

She chuckled. "Oh, god, okay... I'm not crazy, honest. But yeah, they're currently organised by the publishing date."

I chuckled and looked to her oldest book, pulling it out. I didn't recognise it, but I opened it and saw it was published in 1956.

"Wow, old," I said, putting it back how I found it. I turned around and hoped I didn't offend her by laughing. "I organised mine by favourite protagonist, so you're definitely not crazy."

The first real smile I'd ever seen from the girl appeared on her lips and I'd be lying if I said it didn't weirdly make my stomach do somersaults.

"You can sit on my bed, I won't bite," she said, feeling a little more comfortable with me.

I pressed my lips into a smile and took a seat beside her. "So, care to share what the deal with the mayor is around here?"

She laughed and her eyes sparkled when she did. "Oh, boy, you're gonna need some popcorn and a recliner for this one."

–

After that evening spent at the Gilmores, it made settling in a little bit easier. Of course Rory wasn't in my school, but I'd always see her at Luke's right after, since she'd stop by when the Chilton bus dropped her off. I obviously worked there, so that was kind of our way of seeing each other and developing a friendship.

Plus her and Lorelai lived on our street so we'd see them around a lot, especially in town. I got to meet a few other townspeople too, thanks to Rory, who offered to give me a tour. She even introduced me to her best friend who goes to my school, Lane.

At first, Rory seemed shy around me, but I think it was just because she didn't know me very well. Now she seemed alright which was cool because she was pretty awesome. And she gave me this funny feeling when I was with her – I didn't know what it was, but it felt nice.

"Are you alive over there? Hellooooo?"

I zoned back into reality as Rory waved her hand in front of my face to grab my attention. I immediately noticed her laughing at my dismay, that funny feeling becoming present again.

"Yeah, sorry, I'm just a little tired," I explained. "I stayed up trying to finish some science homework last night only to realise it was Friday night and I had all weekend to complete it."

Rory laughed once again, her eyes widening with amusement. "Why are you like this?"

I shook my head. "I honestly don't know."

"You know what you need?"

"Don't say it," I said, smiling at her cocky smirk.

"Coffee." She looked to the counter. "Luke! Please can we get another round?"

I sighed as Luke came round to refill our cups. "I've never met someone this obsessed with coffee, you know that?"

"It's a gift," she winked playfully, before taking a sip of her coffee and completely unaware of what her wink did to me.

My gaze flickered down to my cup, which was filled with some freshly brewed coffee.

"You know, I'm so sure you didn't like coffee," Luke commented once he filled our cups.

I nodded, ignoring the glare Rory was giving me from across the table. Instead, I looked up to Luke and said, "I'm not a fan of it. The only time you'll probably catch me drinking it is when I'm, well, with Rory and she's forcing me to."

"Hey, I'm not holding a gun to your head, am I?" she asked with disbelief.

I smiled with amusement.

"I can bring you some tea if you want," Luke suggested monotonously.

"Don't you dare," Rory threatened jokingly.

"Tea would be great," I muttered to Luke, who nodded and went to fetch me a tea.

Rory seemed fed up. "What can a girl do? Being betrayed is not how I saw our lunch beginning."

I chuckled at her adorable facial expression. "You're being dramatic."

"Can Lane take any longer to arrive? I don't wanna lose my appetite when the back-stabbing begins," she continued over exaggerating.

"Rory!" I laughed at her exaggeration. "Quit it."

She gave me a 'what can I do?' look, making me roll my eyes. Luke returned with my tea and removed my coffee, which only made Rory sigh extra loudly.

"Lane's arrival would be good right now," I agreed teasingly.

Just on time, the door to Luke's rang and in walked Lane, who joined our table in an instant.

"Sorry I'm late, you know how my mom can be," she apologised, before looking between us both. "What did I miss?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but Rory beat me to it.

"Not much," she nodded, "Y/N here was just planning to bury me alive."

"I'm not even going to bother," I gave up before sipping my tea. I glared at Rory playfully adding, "Mmm, lovely."

Lane snickered. "Gosh, you're both so childish."

"She started it," Rory retorted, pointing her finger at me, making me smack it away lightly. She continued nonetheless. "Leading me on in this fake friendship, pretending she liked coffee when she's a tea drinker!" She said it with such feigned hostility that I couldn't help but laugh.

"I thought she knew," Lane said to me. "It was literally one of the first things you said to me when we met at Luke's."

I shrugged. "Yeah, well, you're not madly obsessed with it, so it was kinda easy to tell you. Rory on the other hand..." I gave her a knowing look, to which she pursed her lips at.

"You could have told me still," she continued, shrugging indifferently. "I wouldn't have judged."

"Like you are now," Lane added with a laugh.

I suppressed a smile as I said, "When we first met, Rory, you were the epitome of awkward and shy. I thought you didn't like me. So you totally led me on with false impression. But you don't see me complaining, do you?"

"What? That doesn't sound like Rory," Lane said with a knowing look.

Rory began to blush behind her cup of coffee as I glanced her way.

"No, that was definitely Rory," I said, sure of myself. "She just sat there, at the counter, not saying a word. I half expected her to insult me with the odd stare she was giving me."

"Really?!" Lane was in disbelief before looking to Rory. "That's so unlike you!"

Rory tried to wave her hand dismissively. "It was a bad day, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," I agreed, though I was smiling teasingly at her. "It all worked out though. That dinner at your mum's was a good icebreaker. Even if you didn't want me there."

Rory avoided my eyes as she smiled with embarrassment. "I never said I didn't want you there."

I laughed. "You didn't have to. Your mannerisms said it all."

Lane looked like she'd just uncovered a rarity as Rory blushed into her cup. Meanwhile I couldn't stop the butterflies in my stomach as Rory seemed super flustered before me.

"You girls ready to order now?" Luke asked, approaching our table. And thus the conversation was over.

Eventually, over time, I was figuring out what all of these unexplainable feelings around Rory were. I just hadn't wanted to face the truth at the time, but they began to make sense when I took time to truly think about it.

There was one time specifically though, when I thought she may have felt it, too.

I was sat down cross-legged on the floor of Luke's pantry. I was unpacking some canned goods onto the lower shelves of his stockpile when I heard a knock on the door.

I turned around with confusion, since it was only supposed to be me here, but relaxed when I saw it was only Rory.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" I asked her as she approached me. "I thought you'd be out there with the rest of the town."

She sat next to me on the floor as I continued to place the cans neatly on the shelf.

"I was, but Lane had to go and my mom's still at work and I realised you still weren't there, so I came looking for you and Luke sent me here."

"Oh, so I was your last choice of person to hang out with," I teased, pretending to be hurt. "Nice."

I looked up for a moment and saw a beautiful smile on her face as she rolled her eyes. I blamed the weird lighting in here that made me think of her in any way other than as a friend, but I knew deep down it wasn't the case.

"Why are you back here, Y/N?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "It's Friday night and you're stacking tinned cans."

I nodded as I moved to grab the next box. "True, but Luke– well, you know of Rachel, right?" Rory nodded. "Well, she's here and Luke obviously wanted to spend time with her, so I told him to hang out with her tonight and I'll finish these last few boxes off and lock up for him."

"That's sweet," Rory said, watching me.

I shrugged. "He looked happy. And you know how rare it is to see Luke happy."

Rory chuckled and looked down to her lap. "Very true."

"I'm almost done here," I said, meeting Rory's gaze. "You don't have to wait up."

Rory shrugged. "I don't mind. I can help, too, if you want."

"I don't see why not," I answered, before pushing an open box in front of her. "Just unload these and stack them on this shelf here."

She nodded and got to work, a comfortable silence between us both.

"You've been in Stars Hollow for a few months now," Rory suddenly spoke up.

"Yeah," I agreed, unsure where she was going.

"You like it here?" she asked casually.

I nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. I mean, I've got a job, made new friends, my parents are happy... it's great."

Rory nodded in response. "Yeah, that's cool... so, how's school? You like it?"

I shrugged. "Sure, it's alright. It's just school, really."

Rory nodded again, all of her attention on stacking. "Anyone there who you like? You know, like, like like?"

I almost laughed. "Excuse me?"

She chewed on her lip whilst remaining her casual attitude. "You know, has anyone caught your eye."

I couldn't help but let out a quiet chuckle. "No, Rory, not really."

She nodded and it went quiet. I presumed it normal until she spoke up again, this time looking right at me.

"But like 'not really' as in there may be someone? Or 'not really' as in nobody?"

I stopped what I was doing and noticed how conflicted she seemed. "'Not really' as in not really, Rory."

She bit her lip and nodded, looking down again.

I rested a hand on her wrist and asked, "You okay?"

She licked her lips and nodded, her eyes flickering from her wrist to me.

"You sure?" I asked again, furrowing my eyebrows. "You seem a little puzzled... it's funny, don't get me wrong, but a little worrying."

Her eyes looked up to mine and I noticed how bright they were, even in this badly-lit pantry. They lowered to my lips and I tried to convince myself I was imagining it, until suddenly I felt her lips against mine.

Rory Gilmore was kissing me.

One hand was holding my cheek as the other was pressed to my leg as she kept her balance close to me. I closed my eyes, beginning to kiss back, until she suddenly pulled away, her eyes wide like flying saucers.

"Oh my god," she muttered, moving further away from me.

"Rory–"

"I'm sorry," she apologised, quickly standing up. "I've got to, erm–"

"Rory," I said, standing up and trying to move forward, but she stepped back.

"I just realised I have some homework to do," she said, her eyes still wide with surprise. "Yeah, I guess I can't hang tonight. Sorry."

Before I could say anything, she ran out of the pantry and I was left alone realising how much I really wanted her to kiss me again.

–

That evening, I left a voice message on Rory's answering machine – nothing too specific in case Lorelai heard, just that I wanted her to call me back. Of course, I received no call and the next day, I was still left pondering our kiss.

She must have liked me, right? You don't just accidentally kiss someone. So why was she avoiding me?

I didn't want to pressure her to speak, but I also deserved some answers. I didn't try ringing again – it was obvious she didn't want to call, so I gave her some space the next morning. I did some homework, nipped into town to see if Rory was around – a mere glance is all, and then rang Lane to ask if she'd seen Rory about. Of course, she hadn't, so I ended up back at my house debating whether or not to stop by her house. Eventually my thoughts ate away at me and I stopped by.

When I knocked on, it was Lorelai who answered.

"Oh, hey, Y/N," she greeted with a smile. "You wanna come in?"

I smiled politely. "Erm, that's okay. I was just wondering if Rory was in? I had something to talk to her about. This book she was interested in."

Lorelai nodded. "Well, she decided she suddenly wanted to take a trip to the book store in town."

I sighed. "Ah, that makes sense." Of course she'd be in the one place I didn't check.

"Is that all?"

"Yeah, thanks a lot," I said, nodding. "See you later."

Lorelai waved as I walked down her porch steps. "Bye, sweetie."

I grabbed my bike and cycled back into town, trying to ignore my raging heartbeat and unsettled stomach. The anticipation was only growing the closer I got to the book store.

After chaining up my bike, I headed inside and smiled at the shopkeeper before going down the first aisle of books. It was pretty quiet and I only saw like three people here. I was starting to lose hope that Rory was even here until finally, I caught sight of her in the back corner of the store, her head deep in the blurb of some book.

I took a deep breath before stepping forward and clearing my throat. "Erm, hey, Rory."

She jumped, startled at my presence, and dropped her book. "Y/N, hi!"

I apologised as I picked up the book she dropped. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Rory, who I noticed was looking everywhere but at me, waved her hand dismissively. "Scare me? Nah, you did no such thing." She made every effort to avoid touching my hand as she accepted the book I held out to her.

I nodded and chewed on my lower lip. "Oh... well, erm, you didn't return my call last night, or, well, today..."

She chewed the inside of her mouth as she busied herself with putting the book back. "Yeah, sorry, I was going to, but I forgot."

I nodded awkwardly, watching as she ran her hands over the spines of the books clumsily.

"Don't you think we should talk?" I asked, lowering my voice a little. "About what happened?"

She swallowed deeply, looking down at her shoes. "Yes, talk..."

I decided to say something, knowing she wouldn't. "Look, I don't think you're the kind of person to do something and not mean anything by it. You're too clever for that."

She stayed silent, sucking on her lower lip nervously.

"You kissed me, Rory," I finally said, making sure I wasn't too loud. "You kissed me and then ran away."

"Should I not have?" she suddenly asked, looking me in the eyes.

I blinked. "Huh?"

She didn't look away. "Should I not have ran away?"

I cleared my throat and broke the eye contact when I felt myself growing nervous again. "Erm, well, I guess, in an ideal scenario, I would have liked it if you stayed...."

"Really?"

I nodded, risking a glance at her, only to see a small smile tugging at her lips. "Really."

She nodded slowly. "I would have liked that, too."

I mirrored her small smile, feeling those butterflies in my stomach again.

There was a pause in conversation, as someone walked past us. But when we were alone again, I spoke up.

"I've never done this before," I admitted shyly. "You know, liking a girl."

Her eyebrows raised hopefully. "You like me?"

My smile widened. "I thought that was obvious when I kissed you back?"

Her cheeks reddened a little. "Right, yeah... well, I'm new to this, too."

I admired how beautiful she looked right now, eyes darting around nervously, her smile shy and hidden, and decided to just go for it.

I glanced around, noticing we were still alone, and stepped forward, closer to her, before grabbing one of her hands gently.

"Why don't we figure this out together?" I asked quietly, meeting her curious gaze. "Because all I know is that I've been wanting you to kiss me again since you did last night at Luke's."

Her eyes brightened. "You– you have?"

I could feel my cheeks heating up with embarrassment as I nodded. "Yeah."

She smiled down at me and grabbed my other hand, pulling me closer to her. After a quick glance around us, she pulled me close and kissed me like she did last night. Except this time it wasn't hesitantly, but rather confidently and passionately. She moved her lips perfectly against mine, making my brain melt into a pile of mush and my heart beat excessively at her touch.

It didn't last long because we were both still nervous someone could see us, but it lasted long enough to leave me breathless and staring at her dumbfounded.

"That was..."

She nodded, her face as flushed as mine. "Yep..."

At the sound of someone approaching, we immediately let go of each other's hands, but when I looked up to meet her eyes, I saw an honest, caring smile on her lips and I knew that we could make this work. Somehow.

#rory gilmore #Rory gilmore x reader #Rory gilmore imagine #gilmore girls #Alexis bledel #Rory gilmore x female reader

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kennahbunny · 4 years

Text

Harry Potter Preferences Pt 2: Relationship Development

Disclaimer!: If you haven’t read my other HP Preference “How you guys meet” then this won’t make much sense. I also plan on making a single imagine for each of the boys for their storyline, so please be patient. I have to brainstorm then write drafts for each story then finalize, then edit, then post. So it’ll take a while to say the least. I also have so many ideas about a crossover with different shows! AHH! I’m so excited! Also, I’m posting these stories on Wattpad and Tumblr.

Part 1 Masterlist

Harry: After you helped him with his potions homework that one night. He noticed you more every day, he kept an eye out for you hoping to see you say thank you and hopefully make it a regular thing. When he did see you, it was in a class where he couldn’t just get up and talk to you and when class was over you seemed to disappear when class was dismissed. He was determined to talk to you, and when you weren’t in class when he saw you, you were surrounded by your girlfriends, laughing, gossiping. A week went by when he finally saw you alone, he took his chance to ask you for a study date. Harry wanted to know, you were so kind to him, you didn’t seem to care about him being the chosen one. He felt like he could talk to you, open up and talk about his past without somebody asking about ‘you know who’.

Months pass and now you’re close friends and your feelings for each other grew even more but neither one of you wanted to ruin the amazing friendship that you had. Every Quidditch match you went to for him, you weren’t as close with him as the golden trio they had their special bond. What you guys had was special, he kept telling Ron how he felt about you and how afraid he is to ask you out just cause of the fact that you might say no and that you don’t feel the same. Boys, right? So a week passed of you two being awkward, both contemplating to admitting your feelings and eventually, it gets to the point where you finally build up the courage to ask him.

You notice Harry in the courtyard with Hermione and Ron, you run up to them thinking, 'Oh what the hell.’ “Harry!” They all turn their heads when they recognize your voice, they say their hellos but your mind was on one thing. “Hey, Harry can I talk to you for a sec?” Hermione and Ron share a knowing look, Harry nods and says sure. I pull him to the side,

“So what is it that you needed to pull me aside to say?” You gave him a nervous smile, “Would you like to go to Hogsmeade?”

“Like all together? Sure.”

“No, like just us on a date?” He smiled, “I thought you didn’t like me like that. To be honest, (Y/n) I’ve fancied you awhile and was too afraid to ask you and I’m so glad you did.” You were so relieved you kissed him on the cheek, then blushed once you realized what you did. “Oh, sorry.” He didn’t say anything, he just simply returned the kiss and said he’d see you this weekend.

Ron: Days after the party Ron couldn’t shut up about you, it was starting to get on Harry’s nerves and Hermione’s not because she was jealous or anything she thinks you would be good for Ron, it’s just Ron couldn’t go one conversation without mentioning your name. For example,

“Ron, did you get that Transfiguration homework done?” Hermione asked.

“No, but I bet (Y/n) probably did, she’s so talented and smart. Did you see her today? She’s so pretty an-,”

“Ronald!” Hermione snapped her fingers in his to snap him out of his trance, “I get it, you fancy (Y/n) but that’s not what I asked.” she huffed, “Just man up and go ask her out.” Harry nodded, “Yeah mate, it’s getting old at this point.” He patted Ron’s shoulder and nodded in (Y/n)’s direction. Ron noticed and instantly stiffened up, his heart raced every time he saw you. So that’s what he did, well that’s what he attempted to do…

It ended up being a complete disaster… When he approached you at the entrance of the great hall, he froze but it was too late you already saw him and waved, excited to see him and get a chance to talk to him again. “Hey! I’ve been meaning to chat with you again,” You meet him halfway, you can’t help but smile every time you see him. There was just something about him that made you happy, meanwhile, in Ron’s brain, it looked like that one scene in Spongebob where his brain was on fire and there was mini Spongebob’s running around screaming. Yeah, that was what it looked like. Ron blackout, but from (Y/n)’s p.o.v his words came out fast and all jumbled.

“Uhhh… erm, Hiwouldyouli-want-tomaybegoonadatewithme?” He was visibly nervous, he swaying side to side, and you could guess his hands were clammy. You felt bad for the guy, you fancy him too.

“I’m sorry?” You gave a sympathetic look towards him, trying your best to understand what he just said. You think you heard the word date? He took a deep breath and tried saying it again,

“Would you like to go on a date with me? Please?” Ron wanted to punch himself for being such a git, he was thinking this is going very bad and he was so lost in his thoughts that he barely heard (Y/n) says yes.

“What?” He looked confused, “Did you say yes?” You giggled at his nervousness, “Yes, I’d love to go on a date with you.” He has a goofy smile on his face, “Great, so this weekend?” You nod eagerly.

Draco: The past few weeks, you dreaded going to potions class. Every day it spiked up your anxiety levels to the max, you try to stay as calm as possible but your thoughts keep running in circles about how good Draco smells and other things, then you tell yourself to snap out of it and by the time you do you’ve missed a section of very important notes or you knicked yourself with the knife when you were supposed to be cutting some ingredient. Damn. Before you swapped partners you were the 3rd best in class, right behind Draco who was behind Hermione. 'Maybe Snape did have the right idea putting use together, he probably thought we’d make a good pair considering how smart we both are. He’s probably disappointed with how many mistakes I’ve made since working with Draco, and Draco must be annoyed with my clumsiness. Why do I have to have a crush on such a git?! Merlin, I need to get a grip.’

When I’m not messing up it seems like Draco enjoys my company? Or isn’t completely annoyed by it anyway. We get along well enough,

“Hey, erm, do you have any plans later tonight?” I turn my head to look at Draco. 'Did I just hear that right? Did Draco Malfoy just ask me out?’ I turn my head to see Snape going over our homework from last week,

“Um, I just have some homework from other classes to go over but other than that I’m free. Why you ask?” I whisper back unsure of what his intentions were? These past weeks, Hermione has told me Draco hasn’t been harassing her as much which I find strange but I’m glad about that. “No reason, well it’s just that you could use some extra studying and I thought you’d enjoy my company.” 'Ugh, why do I like this guy?’ “Uh, thanks? We could study together after dinner, that’ll give us a couple of hours before curfew. Sound good?” He nods then goes on with class like that conversation never happened. 'What the hell just happened?’

Fred: Ever since that prank you pulled on that Ravenclaw word spread and still no one knew who pulled it off. Of course, there was an announcement saying that the staff knows who done it so they might as well come forward and accept their punishment but weeks went by and nothing happened, no surprise there. The only people who knew were Fred, George, and your two dormmates. Fred was so proud of you, well everyone was but Fred especially. After that prank you caught yourself spending more time with the Weasley twins and you started to develop a crush on Fred. There was something about his personality, he was so easy to talk to aswell.

Free period, I finally get a chance to breathe. “(Y/n)!” Noo~ I turn around to figure out if it was George or Fred calling my name so I know who to knee in the balls, they know not to bother with my “study” time. I just want to go to my common room and take a nap, that’s it. The time I waste talking to whoever, there goes how many minutes of sleep I lost.

Oh, it’s Fred. “Oh, hey Fred.” I move to the side of the hallway so I don’t get crushed by the stampede of students. Damn, he’s cute. “Hey, (Y/n) I was wondering if you wanted to join me and a few of my other friends this weekend at Hogsmeade?”

“Sure, I’d like that. May I ask why the sudden interest in me?”

“Well, if you must I fancy you” You’re taken back “Really? You fancy me?,” You pointed to yourself, “Not Angelica? Because I heard she fancies you, also I’m so boring. I don’t understand why you would fancy someone like m-”

“(Y/n)! I fancy you alright and there are reasons I fancy you. The more time I spend with you the more I fall for you. I find it adorable that you take naps after classes and one more thing you’re not boring! You’re hilarious, you’re so carefree and that prank idea you had was genius! So please stop being so down on yourself and please come to Hogsmeade with me this weekend” The entire time he was caressing your face, it was sort of difficult to focus on his words when you were so lost in his eyes.

You can’t stop smiling, so you just nod a yes, “Great, now will you let me join you for a nap. I could use one right about now.” You looked confused, “Wait, I thought you didn’t have a free period today?” You raise your eyebrow in confusion.

“You’re right I don’t but it’ll probably be boring and I would most likely fall asleep, so why sleep there at an uncomfortable desk when I could be cuddling you?” You laugh as he sends you a wink, “Who said anything about cuddling?” “I just did.” You laugh some more, “Now cmon slowpoke time’s a-wasting.”

George: The Yule ball was still a while away so you were glad George asked you when he did. On our date, we found out a lot about each other and we have a lot in common. And you became a little bit less mysterious to him and his feelings grew more for you. You had no idea what he had planned for the date so when he told you to meet him at the Astormany Tower at 11:00 pm you were a bit anxious, to say the least.

You try you’re best to walk quietly so you won’t draw any attention from a prefect or worse Flich or Mrs. Norris. It was freezing out so it was really difficult to look cute while not freezing to death. So just opted for a hoodie and some skinny jeans, you tried your best with your makeup skills, you decided to keep it natural and you left your hair down. You kept fidgeting with your hair and hoodie strings as you make your way up the tower’s stairs. At the top of the stairs, you see his read hair almost immediately, you also notice a blanket spread out on the ground with a woven basket sitting next to him.

He still hadn’t noticed you, and an evil idea popped into your head. You closer you snuck towards the less control you had of keeping a straight face, you couldn’t help a huge grin. You make a growling noise as you grab his shoulders quicky,

“Merlin!” George jumps up from his spot, “he turns around quickly to see me laughing. He can’t help but laugh as well, "Well hello to you too,” You calm down from your laughing fit and finally admire the scene George laid out in front of you. It looked absolutely beautiful out tonight, the stars were out and the moon was bright enough to light up the tower. You were at a loss for words, that was until George offered you a seat which you gladly accepted. The rest of the night was filled with laughter, endless talking and food lots of food. That date was only the beginning of something great.

Neville: Second year, you became friends, you always stood up for him against Malfoy or any other person that gave him a hard time. Third-year, he started to develop a crush now that both of you were changing, growing into your bodies. There was something about you that changed that only he truly noticed, you were more confident in yourself. You were before last year but you’re even more so now and it made him care about you, even more. Now it’s year four, a full two years later and talk about the Yule Ball has come into full effect. The talk about the ball is stressful but so is this essay for Muggle Studies.

You help him with his self-esteem problems, you’re his outlet when it comes to his feelings about his parents and his grandmother. Neville tells you things that he just can’t with his grandmother, every day you two grow closer but you’re too scared to admit the way you feel to him because you think he just sees you as a friend, nothing more than that. You like the way things are and you don’t want to risk anything by saying something you might regret.

“Hey, Neville,” You guys were sprawled out on one of the couches in the Gryffindor common room You guys tend to take up the whole couch which annoys some people, you were laying on your back while Neville was sitting properly on the couch as you were using him as a footrest. You tap him with your foot until he lifts his head from his Herbology book he was lost in.

“Hmm, yeah?” He glances at you then goes back to his book, “Ugh, Neville~~~ I need your help with my essay. Can you please reread it, I feel like I can do better with it.” He closes his book, to give you his full attention, “Alright, hand it over.” You hand him your paper, he takes a few minutes going over your paper and you take this moment to gaze at him. You think about how attractive he’s become since you first met him, he’s truly becoming a man and damn do you wish he will take you to the Yule ball.

“(y/n), did you hear me?” You snap out of your thought and come back to Earth, “Huh, sorry I was spacing out.” He laughs, “Well yeah that’s because you’ve been up all night and getting up early in the mornings to finish this essay.” He hands back your essay and starts to push your legs off his lap. You sit up, eager to what he has to say, “Well how is it? Does it more detail? Does it sound good enough, do I need to edit it anymore-” “Alright, I’m going to stop you there.” He turns to face towards me, grabs my hands and pulls me in closer. “It’s perfect. Now go to bed.”

Cedric: Every week you and Cedric would meet at a tree near the Black Lake and you’d swap books. You’d give him a muggle book and he’d give you one that he’d think you’ll love, and every week you’d talk for hours about how much would love or hate that book. He found your passion for books to be adorable, he found it so cute that you’d rant about how much you’d dislike a certain character or how a different character deserves to be treated better and that they’re misunderstood.

You were ranting on and on about how Luce from Lauren Kate’s “Fallen” doesn’t deserve Daniel because she treats him horribly for some reason?. He stopped listening after a while because he was too distracted by the way the sun hits the back of your hair. It sort of had a halo effect and he thought you looked absolutely stunning, he always thought you looked amazing even if you didn’t. He is so captivated by your beauty that his silence didn’t go unnoticed by you, you thought you were boring him so you stopped taking about starting blushing.

“Sorry, am I boring?"Cedric being the gentleman he says, "Oh no of course not, I just love how passionate you are about these things. It’s one of the reasons I fancy you.” He gave you one of his signature smiles. You stared at him dumbfounded, “Sorry what? Did you just say you fancy me?” You really couldn’t believe your ears. He sat up from his laying position to look at you properly, (Y/n) would you like to go on a date with me?“ Cedric hoped deeply that you would say yes, with a hopeful look on his face your mind was racing with questions. "Well? What do you say?”

“Uh, yes, of course, I’ll go on a date with you.” You were so happy you didn’t care what was the reason he’d fancied you but your mind did quickly fill with insecurities. “Ced?” He smiled, he loved the fact that you already have a nickname for me. “Yes?” “Why do you want to go on a date with me? I swore you like Cho?” He gave you a confused look, “Cho? I don’t fancy her at all, she’s pretty and all but you’re who I’m interested in. I feel like I already know you, you are so down to earth and I want to get to know you more. I need to get to know you more or I feel like I might explode, there’s something so captivating about you and I can’t put my finger on it.”

You were at a loss for words, and before you knew what you were doing you hugged him and he returned the favor within seconds. “I never have had someone say something so sweet about me like that, and that speech how can I say no?”

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meowdymista · 3 years

Text

Van der Driscoll Pt8

Part 7 - Masterlist

Part 9

This is somehow only 3800 words long, possibly because I killed three pages of flashback and squished it into a handful of paragraphs. BUT there’s no in game script this time (hooray!) so hopefully will be a bit more of a fun read.

Gentle reminder that the only reason I’m still writing this discarded one shot is because @memekingofwwiii and @artisticpoet replied to the original post three months ago. Any feedback always goes a long way, and if you wish this project had died back at the beginning, you have them to blame #sorrynotsorry

***

“Miss LN, if you do not quit your incessant pacing, I will tie you to the mill stone in Rhodes and rent you out as a donkey!”

Your apology is empty and Miss Grimshaw’s scowl tells you she knows it. Hosea folds down the paper, pressing precisely over the creases before setting it aside. “They won’t be long now, I’m sure of it.”

O’Driscoll’s had intercepted Mr Pearson on his way to Rhodes with the message that Colm was proposing a truce. They claimed it was better to rally together as a dying species than to let the Pinkertons pick off smaller groups fighting amongst themselves.

That wasn't your primary concern. The thought of the O’Driscoll’s so close to camp rattled you, and shook Kieran like an oversized jelly. There was a chance they wouldn’t see through your altered appearance and you could slip past them, but for Kieran who rode with them for two months... To be shot on sight would be a mercy, and both of you knew that that wasn’t the O’Driscoll way.

Dutch announced that as doubtful as the proposition was, he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity to put the past behind him. Assigning Micah as his number two and Arthur as back up, the trio rode out of camp despite the shaking heads and words of disapproval.

“We’ve been in worse situations before and got out of it,” continues Hosea, his bright eyes tired. “Arthur’s the best shot in camp. He’ll take care of any trouble before it starts.”

You hum in acknowledgement before dismissing yourself. You haven’t told anyone about the vibrantly vivid dreams you’ve been having. Abigail has told you in the past that she had them a lot whilst expecting Jack, something to do with the raging hormones, but you can’t shake the dread that’s become sediment in the bottom of your heart. There is something about the way Dream Micah is relentless in his beatings... the way he sneers at every missed punch from Dream Arthur… the shine of moonlight on the infamous double action revolver with its custom black and red grip, and the flicker of fire highlighting the etching Vengeance is hereby mine. To know Arthur is out there with Micah’s only cheerleader is unsettling to say the least. What if it’s not the chaos of change? What if these dreams are a premonition?

You shake the thought of Dutch’s polished boots crushing Arthur’s outstretched fingers from your mind. A dream, you tell yourself firmly. A dream and nothing more.

Stripping to your undergarments, you wade out into the lake in search of a distraction. There’s an island not too far from shore. You could be alone with your thoughts there if you took the boat out, or even if one of the horses wanted to take a swim, but the nagging in your stomach has tied a knot to the centre of the camp. You can’t wander far for fear of the Dream Arthur’s beaten corpse welcoming you back.

“Miss Thomas, I-” Kieran squawks loudly from the shoreline, staring up awkwardly into the evening sky. You sigh and retreat enough to stay underwater whilst remaining within earshot. “I-I’m sorry, M-Miss, I didn’t think you was- that you were-!”

“It’s fine, Kieran. Pass me the towel on that rock?” He obliges, eyes still scouring the heavens like a lost monk until you’ve tied it around your waist and shrugged on one of Arthur’s old shirts. “You heard something?”

“Should I have? Oh, about Arthur and Dutch. They ain’t back yet. I was- I was just wanting to, erm, to check how you was feelin’ with the whole… Colm... thing.”

You consider lying. It would be an appetising distraction to feed him a cool indifferent nature and watch him squirm in paranoia, however you’re not sure how much longer you can fight the burn of madness at the edge of your mind.

“Scared shitless,” you admit eventually, the corners of your mouth tugging downwards despite your best efforts. “Not even for Arthur being gone, but… if they know. If they know the truth, or if they find out about…” Your fingers touch the soft curve of your stomach. “About Arthur and... I don’t know what I’ll do. What we can do.”

Kieran nods quietly, clearing his throat as his eyes dart over the shore, like a rabbit catching the scent of coyotes on the wind. “Colm burns through men like cigars, but Lord knows what them O’Driscoll boys’ll do if they get their hands on us.”

“We’ll be dead if we’re lucky,” you mumble, turning a smooth pebble in your hands before skimming it over the water. “The lucky ones… they go quick.”

You can feel his gaze burning into the side of your skull, but you try to keep your posture indifferent. You know what he’s going to ask before he even inhales.

“What happened with Peader? Was it quick or…?”

“Quick.” You skim another stone as your heart battles its way into your throat. You don’t have the energy to feign ignorance this time. “I made sure of that.”

“What- what he do?”

Shadows move around the camp, indifferent to your whereabouts. Taking a deep breath, you begin to tell the story honestly, hoping that perhaps if you acknowledge and repent your sin out loud, whatever God there is out there will return Arthur to you.

You tell him about meeting Peader in a quiet saloon on the outskirts of Blackwater - a place where even the cobwebs had moved on in anticipation for the new place opening on the main road. How Peader swooped in, landing on a chair opposite you, his grin brighter than a beacon from his day drinking.

“Yull never guess the shit I just got us. A boat with a shit tonne o’ gold is docking here end o’ this week. Minimum security, no guards, easy pickings. Can you believe it?”

“No,” you scoff, stifling a yawn. “Ain’t no such thing.”

“Tha’s what I said, but this feller I was talkin’ to was from the bank. He was sayin’ that it'd be the steal of the century if anyone pulled it off. They’d tried hiring security, but no one was taking ‘em up on it. Said it was travelling too far, was too high risk of being hit, so they decided to play it all poker like and just send the ferry anyways.”

“And you trust this feller?”

“Sure, as much as anyone else I meet on the street.”

“How’d you know he isn’t setting us up? Or that he really works for the bank?”

“Bastard was dressed up all fancy. Had the same chain on his waistcoat you see ‘em all wearing and the stupid twirly moustache. Ain’t many jobs that afford a man a belly like his. He reeked of paper and safe codes, trust me.”

You tell Kieran how the saloon was empty apart from the bartender and a man catching a nap in a booth across the room, neglecting to mention the way his white hat sat low over his eyes and the thick blond handlebar moustache twitching in sleep. You do tell him the details of the job - that Peader reckoned you’d need at least five men to carry the gold, plus a couple more for shooting. You even tell him when the ferry docked - a date black on your tongue - and how your panic was exacerbated with rising frustration when Peader began to bite back at your doubt, accusing you of doubting him, of stealing the credit for past jobs he’d arranged.

“Obviously some other outlaws got wind of the same tip you did. It’s not the first time we’ve crossed paths with folk like us - and with the law tightening up the way it is, of course we’re gonna start stepping on each other’s toes-”

“Look, I get you have your day trips or mini vacations and the like. I get you’re a good shot an’ all, but you’ve gotta stop lyin’ to me! Knocking me out and keeping the take for yourself-”

“There was no take, Peter, because I was hauling your heavy ass out of their way! Them Van der Linde’s are a better shot than either of us, an’ between a few dollars and a can of vegetables or an extra gun at my side, I’ll choose the latter every time.”

You take a deep breath to slow your quaking heart and keep your emotions from getting the better of you. Your voice cracks as you recall following your friend outside for him to tell you Colm had come by camp earlier that week asking for you. His black eyes fiery, the stubble on his face uneven from his last shave... The proper use of his given name was lost on the wind whistling over the plains, because Colm had personally promoted you. You, who had no prior experience with weaponry before Peader took the time to show you.

Your vision fades to black. The panic, the total contrast to your good friend, everything accumulates to cast darkness over your sight. You know this can only end one way, and it’s too painful to consider. The pearl grip in your hand is cool at first touch, but quickly grows hot as your ears ring with bullets fired.

The stallion rears and bolts west of town.

Kieran must realise he’s openly gawping as he quickly clears his throat. “W-was that the same ferry these fellers hit?”

You nod, swallowing hard. “Guess the idiot that told Peter didn’t keep his trap shut.”

“I heard he was working with them Pinkertons?”

You shrug sadly. “I might have… twisted the truth a little when Colm asked about him. Made it sound like he was a snitch… with hindsight he would have got us all killed, but he knew too much about me. Suddenly, with Colm asking after me, he had motive to dig deeper and find out the truth. I couldn’t risk it.”

You catch Kieran’s hand hesitating in the corner of your eye, before he decides the comfort would be improper and instead puts it back into his own lap. “I’m sorry to hear that, Miss. Sometimes we gotta make choices an’... an’ we just have to live with what comes afterward.”

You hum in agreement. Kieran takes a deep breath, clearly about to say something else, when you hear a horse whinny in the distance. Apologising hastily, you jump to your feet, relief flooding you as you hurry back up onto the grass in time to see the Count and Baylock trotting in with their owner’s sat tall astride them.

“So?” calls Hosea from the front of the crowd gathered by the hitching posts.

Dutch shakes his head once, sighing. “We ain’t got shot at least.”

Your ears strain for further movement, your stomach dropping every passing second as the chill of your recurring nightmare creeps down your spine. “Where’s Arthur?”

“Calm down, Guinevere, he’s probably off doin’ somethin’ or other.” Micah smiles all smarmy. “Probably watchin’ our backs, being the little hero that he is. He’ll be back before long.”

Hosea mirrors your frown of concern. “You ain’t seen him?”

“He’ll be fine, Hosea,” Dutch sighs, waving his hand dismissively as he strolls back to the large white tent on the shore. “He always is.”

You shiver violently. Arthur never lets the group disperse after a job until everyone is accounted for. One night after a few too many bottles of whisky, Karen had told you how Arthur had to be all but dragged from Blackwater during their hasty retreat into Ambarino. Eventually Dutch had ordered him to scout ahead for somewhere to camp so that they didn’t need to worry about losing their sharpest shooter to any law catching up to them.

You pull yourself away and head back to the waters, trying to hear any gunshots or further movement beneath Hosea’s continued dispute.

“I see Micah and Dutch are back?” You shrug at Kieran’s hesitant observation. “I’m sure he’s fine. You seen him with a gun?”

You drop the towel and sink your head under the water as soon as you’re able to, effectively ending the conversation. When your head next breaks the surface, Kieran is gone and your towel is folded neatly in his place.

You don’t sleep that night. You can’t sleep. Despite the luxury of space for your expanding body and the warm Lemoyne air acting as a blanket in its own right, you’re still unable to rest without his body heat, without the weight of his arm around you, pressing against your back, the itch of facial hair on your exposed skin.

Every little movement has you sat up expectantly. There is no need for privacy without Arthur’s preference for hidden intimacies, so you’ve rolled up every wall of your tent to keep lookout. The fires in camp are dying down to ash as Micah caresses his knife with sandpaper nearby.

“Yes, Miss LN?” Micah smirks. “Can I help you?”

“What have you done?” Your voice is barely a whisper. Micah’s breathy laugh matches your volume - the most manners he has shown you since you met.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Where is Arthur?” You’re stood behind him, your fists shaking at your side as you try to contain the terror of the unknown. “You must know something.”

“Guinevere, I’m sure your white knight will make an appearance eventually.” Shaking his head, he chuckles and turns back to the wisps of burning ash. “I mean, unless another princess has taken his attention. What’s her name? Maggie? Molly?” He throws you another look over his shoulder. “Or was it the queen that took off with someone else? I ain’t ever really had the patience for fairy stories myself.”

“He wouldn’t just disappear!” you argue, setting aside your confusion at his jibes. “This is Arthur. What did he say after you left Colm?”

“He told me he needed a little less mollycoddling from his baby carrier.” He scoffs, his pale grey eyes meeting yours in the last of the light. “How do I know? It ain’t no secret we ain’t the closest of buddies. Maybe he’s done a John and got cold feet, hmm? Now leave me alone!”

When the sun eventually rises, you pull your blouse and skirts over your underclothes without bothering to wash. With a fist full of pins to fix your hair out of your face, you hurry over to where Miss Molly is applying a faceful of powders.

“Jesus wept!” she gasps, stepping back as though your dishevelment was contagious. “What happened to you?”

Looking up at the interruption, Dutch marks his page and sits up. “Something the matter, Miss?”

“Arthur’s still not back.”

He rolls his eyes, body relaxing and book already reopened with his finger finding where he left off. “When you’ve known Arthur as long as I have-”

“I’m not saying he doesn’t disappear for days, I just want to know what happened after you saw Colm.”

“Why? Has your escape plan backfired?” The thick moustache twitches in fake humour. “Maybe your O’Driscoll charm has paid off and Arthur’s switched sides, taking your place as Colm’s number two.”

“Arthur would never betray you like that,” you argue, but the flash in the leader’s eyes makes you question the degree of betrayal felt when you were brought into camp. “You all rode off together. You must have seen him leave to cover for you? What happened when you met back up?”

“He’d already left, Y/N. It was clearly far too underwhelming for him. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like a little quiet. Some of us still have to earn our keep, you know.”

Not wanting to waste energy on a force as strong as Dutch, you busy yourself with chores. You feed the chickens, you feed the horses, you darn socks, all whilst watching the treeline. Even Miss Grimshaw’s fury cannot stir you away from the outskirts, and so by midday, with confidence in your position as most detested in camp, your decision proves easy.

“Kieran, do you have a spare saddle?”

The jittery head snapped up, gaping at you. “Going out, Miss?”

“To look for Arthur. I’ll be back, I promise.”

“You can’t go alone, Miss, especially not- not in your condition.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, no small feat with your lack of sleep. “I looked after myself before, and I can look after myself again.”

“Mr Morgan will kill me if anything were to happen to you.” He licks his lips, his hands wringing the corner of his jacket. “Lemme grab somebody to go with you-”

“Kieran I said I’m fine!”

“I- I- I can come. Jus’ gimme a minute to saddle up Branwen.” He’s itching with anxiety. “Shit, I don’t wanna think what Mr Van der Linde will do if we go off together.”

“Something wrong?” Charles watches you both closely as he pauses his stroll back from guard duty.

"Arthur’s not back yet. I’m going to look for him.”

His gaze slides over to Kieran, then shakes his head. “I’ll come with you. It’s best you stay here, Kieran - one missing O’Driscoll is less concerning than two.”

“A-Are you sure, Mr Smith?” The relief is palpable. “Then Y/N take Branwen. She’ll do you right.”

You try to keep your tics of impatience internalized whilst the men fix the horses. Hosea seems to be watching you in the distance. You almost believe he gives you a nod before acting as a distraction to Dutch, allowing you to lead Branwen out of camp behind Charles and Taima.

“Do you know where they met with them?”

You shake your head clear, digging your heels in to ride up alongside your companion. “The Heartlands, I think, but I don’t know the exact location. Can’t be further than Valentine.”

“I think you’re right about Valentine - there’s no real vantage point past Emerald Ranch. Dutch talked like Arthur was a surprise, so he would probably need a good hiding spot with a clear view.”

“Must be further out than Dewberry Creek… they wouldn’t have taken so long to get back.”

Charles hums in agreement. “Let’s head that way anyway and get up on a ridge. There’s a whisky tree with quite the view, might help us narrow our search.”

A long silence stretches between you. It would have been comfortable if it weren’t for the intrusive thoughts, the ghost of imaginary gunpowder tainting your nostrils, the burning images of Dutch’s boot crushing his outstretched fingers…

Just a dream.

You arrive at the summit and draw your binoculars, scouting the horizon, desperately trying to pick between each grain of dirt.

“I reckon we should take each of these points.” Charles gestures to each summit on the horizon. “If we take them one by one, we’re sure to overlap their meeting point, and maybe find some clues.”

You mumble in agreement, chewing on your lip as he focuses his strong brown gaze on you.

“Did Arthur say something about this to you?” he asks finally.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been on edge pretty much since they mounted up… Is everything alright between you?”

You laugh, albeit shakily, at the prospect of something coming between you. “We’re fine. I just keep having some real bad dreams and... “ You exhale loudly. “I’d feel better if I knew where he was.”

Charles nods and doesn’t press for details. He’s like Arthur that way - unwilling to speak unless necessary. You let the silence coddle you again as you descend and re-ascend another peak.

“Y/N!”

You hurry to him at the first syllable of your name, cursing the ache of your muscles slowing you down. Charles is crouched by the rocky edge, examining the ground closely.

“Reckon this could be our man?” he asks, gesturing at the disturbed dirt. Yes, you realise, it very well could be. The length of the disturbance was almost Arthur’s height - especially if he had rested on his elbows to watch over. You try to picture his broad shoulders and envisage the same broad distance.

Could there have been a scuffle? There’s not enough disturbance for him to have leaned back onto his knees and stood up - one of the arms is smudged, like he had rolled over. The inconsistencies in the outline… had he stood up and walked all over where he had been lying, or was someone else here?

Charles seems to share your doubts as he points out the multiple horse tracks. “Either this spot is popular with the locals, or there’s been a group here in the past couple of days.”

“Dutch and Micah split off earlier down the track - Arthur came up here alone.”

Charles hums again, fanning the panic in your gut. “Did they meet up again afterwards?”

“Did they hell!” you scowl. “Neither of them would tell me what happened after they parted ways.”

Charles sighs, mounting Taima gracefully. “The tracks seem to double down this way.”

You follow, enveloped again in the silence bar your thudding heart. At the bottom, you find an old camp. Charles decides it’s about a day old. You don’t really say much before spotting the blood not much further away. Alarm bells are ringing and you’re feeling faint.

I guess I saw you an’ the mess I might leave you in one day.

“Y/N?” Charles’ round face surfaces before your eyes, his forehead furrowing. “Are you alright? Here, I have some water…”

“They got him, didn’t they?” You can feel your stomach turning, but you haven’t eaten since they left the day before. “The blood - it’s Arthur’s, isn’t it?”

“Could be animal’s blood,” counters Charles calmly. “They might have set up camp nearby to save carrying the carcass.”

You try to stand, determined to keep searching, but Charles holds you down by your shoulder. “Rest. Kieran was right - Arthur won’t be happy if he finds you in this state.”

“Provided he comes back!” you argue, but you can feel the world spinning around you. As if already aware about your lack of sustenance, Charles pushes a bread roll into your hand, and you begin to eat wordlessly.

“Are you strong enough to ride?” he asks eventually.

You nod, brushing crumbs from your clothes as you look out towards the setting sun. “How far do you reckon they’ve got?”

“We’re going back to camp.” You whisk around ready to protest, but Charles steadies you easily. “Falling off your horse is one thing, but it’s completely different when you're carrying a child. I’ll come back for him, but for now let’s get you safe and pick up some reinforcements.”

You reluctantly agree, even if it’s just for the way your mind rattles as he helps you mount up. Charles rides close beside you, ready to grab you when you sway too precariously. The ride back is much slower than the ride out.

Hold on, Arthur. They’re coming.

#van der driscoll #rdr2 fic #rdr2 fanfic #kieran o'driscoll #red dead fic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #kieran duffy #meowdymista

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itzagothamcitysiren · 4 years

Text

There’s Only Us Left Now

I wanted to post this over the weekend but we kept having issues with our internet and whenever I had the time to post I had no connection of course :( but here’s chapter two!

I Had a Dream I Was a Vigilante’s Side Kick pt. 2

The look on Halley’s face was almost unreadable as she stared down at the boy’s outreached hand. She looked at it before looking back up to him. She was silent and didn’t make any indication of shaking it like he hoped her too. Instead she reached back to unzip her backpack and placing the folder she thought she would have need of inside. She let the bag drop onto one of the two chairs placed in front of the desk before taking a seat in the other.

Crossing her arms against her chest, Halley eyed the February snowfall off to the side and outside the window. She turned her attention back to this Tim Drake with an expectant look. The boy’s eyes widened slowly retracting his hand awkwardly. He sat up straight, almost fumbling in his chair as if to make himself appear taller.

“Right, um-,” He cleared his throat. “Like I said, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve been-,”

“Stalking me?” Halley cocked an eyebrow up, cutting him off. She sank back into her chair and let the venom drip out of her mouth. “Yeah, I noticed.”

“Only recently,” he mumbled to himself. He’d been tailing her for weeks, waiting for the right moment to finally reveal himself. He caught Halley’s glare at his words and looked at her nervously. It was as if she’d pounce on him at any moment. He cleared his throat again, giving her a defensive smile and placing his hands on the desk, “I’m sorry. I’ve never done this before. Let me start over,”

“Let me stop you right there Tim Drake.” She waved her hand to break his stumbling. “I can see that you’ve never done this before,” she agreed with him. “I’ve got some questions of my own so I’ll go first and show you how it’s done.” She let her hands grip the armrests, squeezing them to try and keep her mind straight. “Who do you work for? Why are you following me? And tell me about that notebook you had back at the café?”

“You saw it?” Tim gasped but pulled a straight face on when she shifted. “Right, back to business,” he nodded trying to sound serious. “Well in that order,” he started casually as if he was answering the simplest questions in the world. “I work for myself. I’m following you because 1.) You were the easiest to get too and 2.) You also seemed to be the most approachable but I’m starting to rethink that with the way you’re looking at me-,” Tim trailed off, catching himself as her glare only grew as he rambled off again. He coughed into his fist and sat back again. “And that’s my research notebook. You see I-erm, I know about you and the others.”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” She didn’t know why she was going to try to deny it. She knew he knew. Why else would he go through all this trouble to bring her here? She for sure knew what she saw in that notebook.

“I won’t say it out loud. I get it; secret identities and all.” Tim promised leaning in and hushing his voice as he spoke.

“What do you want?” She rolled her eyes begrudgingly; the kid was smarter than she thought apparently. “Money? Revenge?”

“Oh god no. That would be so obvious.” Tim chuckled, haven’t thinking about how his actions could be interpreted that way. “I want neither of those things.” He held up his hands and gave them a shake. He placed them back on the desk, folding them together. “No, I just want in.”

“I’m sorry?” Halley squinted at him, “You want what?” Giving her head a shake, she looked as if she didn’t hear him properly.

“I want in. You know? Like in the family business.” He said leaning in further. He hushed his voice even more as he clarified. “I wanna be like how you were; like Dick Grayson and Jason Todd. I want to be a Robin.”

Halley let her mouth drop open and stared at the kid speechlessly. She felt her heart pump up and out of her chest and throat. The back of her neck started to sweat and the hairs on it raised. She looked around the room feeling the walls close in as she wished he’d gone to Dick or even Bruce with this. She probed at her ear as if to clear it out.

“You want to be what?” she asked softly, knowing damn well what he had said but couldn’t stomach it.

“Robin.” A wide smile appeared on his face as he repeated what Halley really didn’t need to hear again. “Robin; I want to be Robin and I want to work with Batman.”

It took Halley a couple of moments until she found herself able to respond with words but even then it was just none coherent curses with a couple of questions thrown in. Who the hell was this kid? And who was he to think that he could just follow her around for days and then trick her into this. Who was he to think he could just request to be a Robin? Robin wasn’t something you could just ask for. No, it was something that was fuckin’ earned.

“Look kid,” she started, standing up from her chair. She towered over him making him shrink back into the chair. “I don’t know what you’re on about but no. You can’t be Robin.” She cut her hand through the hair to get her point across further. “I’m not even the one to make that decision. But I know the guy who is and I know that he would also say no.” She looked down at him baffled. She bit her lip before looking off to the side and continuing. “I don’t know how you found out about us but believe me it’s a waste of information. Take it from me when I tell you it’s not worth it to be a Robin.”

“Batman needs a Robin!” Tim stood up, raising his voice slightly. He slammed his hands onto the table causing Halley to look up at him. “And he needs you.”

“No he doesn’t.” She shook her head firmly. She took a step forward, daring him to speak again. She get her voice steady and strict, not raising it like he had, “Batman shouldn’t have a Robin.”

“Robin keeps him balanced and grounded,” Tim did dare. “Even the people who are grateful for Batman noticed how he’s more violent and reckless now; for the last two years. Ever since Nightshade and Robin disappeared.” He bit his tongue when Halley looked up at him dangerously for mentioning her and Jason’s former names.

“Jason Todd didn’t die in a skiing accident did he?” Tim pressed, knowing he was already walking on a very thin line but decided not to back down. “It was something Robin related wasn’t it? That’s why you stopped being Nightshade and why Batman is the way he is now?”

“Enough,” Halley slammed her own fists down onto the desk like he had but much, much, harder.

The objects on the desk shook and unsettled the boy. Halley raised a hand to grip the bridge of her and let out a shaky breath. She tried to calm herself having not wanting to elevate the situation any higher. She looked up at him. The notebook she saw days ago caught her eye. He left it placed in front of him. Without hesitation and in a blink of an eye she snatched it up as he let out a cry of protest. She held it tightly in her grasp and out of his.

“You’re going to drop this,” she pointed an accusing finger at him. “You’re never going to seek any of us out again, you hear me? Trust me kid, you have no idea what you’re talking about and need to just drop it.” She said before reaching for her bag.

She began to head towards the door but stopped with a sigh. Her hand was about to touch the doorknob before she turned around to face him again. She frowned, seeing how his face showed an array of emotions. He looked genuinely defeated. She let her shoulders drop but kept her firm demeanor while at the same time showing some compassion.

“You’re right; Jason didn’t die in a skiing accident.” She swallowed hard. “He died because of the Joker. The Joker kidnapped him. He tortured him, made him suffer, and then he killed him.” She said, trying to keep the anger out of her voice but struggled. “That’s what happens when you’re Robin. You’re just a pawn to use against Batman.” She frowned bitterly. “So when I say Batman shouldn’t have a Robin I mean it. Batman should not have a Robin.”

Halley’s body was in autopilot. She didn’t wait or give a chance for Tim to respond, ending the conversation right then and there. Her feet pulled her out of the room and out of the wing of the building only stopping when she reached the outside of the building. Her movement picked up again after a minute of collecting herself and steadying her ragged breathes. She aimlessly walked through campus, shaken by the conversation and replaying it over and over in her head. How could such a naïve kid figure out about Bruce Wayne being Batman?

She thought about it until she found herself in a park that was near the college. She sat down at one of the benches, feeling more than mentally exhausted. She felt a spark of energy when she realized she still held onto the notebook in her hand. Her body was starting to not feel so numb but still felt heavy as she cautiously opened it. She scanned through the sloppy penmanship until she came across the page she caught a glimpse of back at the café. She used it to backtrack through the kid’s train of thoughts until she found out what outed them.

“Dammit, Dick.” She swore as she let the notebook close.

Of course the kid had to have seen the Flying Grayson’s years ago. Of course he seen Dick perform the Quadruple Somersault way back when. Of course Dick fuckin’ Grayson was one of the only people in the world able to do the move. And of course Dick fuckin’ Grayson was dumb enough to still perform the move today but as Nightwing.

Halley brought her thumb to her lips gently gnawing at it in thought. It really wasn’t that hard to put together if she really thought about it. She was honestly surprised that Bruce was able to hide this secret for as long as he did. Once Tim figured out that Dick Grayson was Nightwing it made sense to look to Bruce Wayne who was really the only one rich enough in Gotham to be the masked crusader. Bruce Wayne also happened to have two children, a boy and a girl, who also happened to be around the same age and build of Batman’s Nightshade and Robin. It was quite obvious if you looked past Bruce’s well-acted playboy-billionaire persona.

“Ugh,” she groaned, letting her head fall back in frustration.

She knew she should tell him about this or at least give the information to Alfred. What if this kid didn’t listen to her? What if he somehow got to Bruce? And what if Bruce was foolish enough to actually take him on. She groaned again, knowing that she would have to look into this Tim Drake. She had to figure out why he would want to risk being Robin.

She stood up from the park bench and instead of heading back to campus headed in towards the city. She remembered the way to her destination like she’d been there yesterday even though it’s been years since she’d actually step foot anywhere near the place. She knew she still had access knowing that even with her hanging up the cape and tights Dick would never restrict her access from his safe house in Gotham.

She quickly entered the code to get in. Once she was in it lit up showing off the display of extra Nightwing gear and tech. She smiled fondly at them but only for a moment. She had to get to work knowing that Dick would be alerted that she used her code to get in and would probably be calling her within the hour. Cracking her knuckles she started the computer and started her search on Tim Drake.

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manage-mischief · 4 years

Text

Conjunctions

Summary: I wrote this drabble for @blisfvll on tumblr's writing challenge. Thanks for giving me a prompt for inspiration! I've been having a bit of writer's block lately so it was good to get creative. (also the next chapters of Regulus Black and the Darkest Shadows will be up next week, sorry for not posting this week my beta and I have both been insanely busy!)

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Read on AO3 or FF.net

“Lils.”

“Hold on,” Lily said, holding up a finger. She was deeply engrossed in her Transfiguration textbook, doing some last-minute review before her morning exam.

“Lils.”

“Mhm.”

“Lily!”

The sudden shout shocked her. She dropped her book, exasperated. “What?!” she spat—a bit harsher than intended—at her boyfriend who was sitting across the breakfast table. James’s eye widened.

“You’ve got your elbow in your porridge…”

Lily realized her left elbow did feel a bit wet. She looked down and, sure enough, she had been using her oatmeal as an arm rest. She cursed under her breath before swiftly cleaning herself up with a flick of her wand. Sirius, James’s best mate, snickered.

“Merlin, Evans,” Sirius teased, “Stressed out much?”

Lily rolled her eyes, but stuffed her book in her bag anyways. Sirius did have a point. She’d studied enough. Still, she could feel her leg bouncing wildly with nervous anticipation. This wasn’t just an exam: it was a NEWT. It was one of a series of tests that would determine the rest of her life. Her job, her happiness, her ability to support herself and a family…Lily shook herself out of her spiral of worrying. It wouldn’t do her any good.

“You should eat something, Lil,” said James, kindly. “Erm…maybe not that porridge though…”

Lily smiled in spite of herself and plucked James’s bagel out of his hands. “Thanks,” she muttered with a mouth full of warm bread. James feigned indignation.

“Oi, Prongs, that’s the price of dating Lily. She steals your food,” said Sirius, as he proceeded to swipe a sausage from James’s plate.

“A bargain price to pay for Lily’s affection,” said James. “But not for you, you wanker!” James locked Sirius in a playful wrestling match, attempting to retrieve his stolen food from Sirius’s fork. The two boys caused quite the ruckus, drawing the attention of many of the surrounding students, who had suddenly noticed their cutlery dancing across the table as the two boys fought.

“Stop hurting me, or I’ll write your mum!” Sirius wailed, stretching his arm just out of James’s reach. “You know she loves me best!”

“Hey!” said James, “I know it’s true, but hey!”

Remus, who had been quietly observing the scene, struck out with lightning fast reflexes and grabbed the fork from Sirius’s hand, promptly popping the coveted sausage into his mouth with a satisfied grin. James and Sirius looked properly affronted.

Lily chuckled. “Boys,” she muttered. She smiled gratefully at James. He and his friends never failed to cheer her up.

“I had to fight back!” James earnestly explained. “It was a matter of honor!”

“You don’t have to explain yourselves to me,” said Lily. “I know Remus just can’t resist grabbing Sirius’s sausage.”

Remus choked on his pumpkin juice, red as a tomato. James and Sirius laughed heartily.

“Evans! I knew there was a reason we kept you around.” Sirius nodded at her, approvingly.

“Merlin, Lil! See, this is why I love you!” James froze as soon as the words left his mouth. His eyes widened in shock, as did Lily’s. Her face flushed as red as Remus’s had. She was speechless.

Remus cleared his throat. “C’mon, Sirius, we’ve got to get to that…thing.”

Sirius stayed put. “No, I wanna know…Ow!” The table rattled as Remus obviously kicked the other boy in the shin, flashing a warning look.

“Oh,” Sirius stammered, “oh yeah. Right. The thing. Let’s go, Moons.’”

The two boys departed, leaving James and Lily alone at the breakfast table. Neither would meet the other’s eye. Lily tried to force herself to say something, anything, however, her vocal chords stayed obstinately stiff. She was too shocked. After a few seconds silence, James stood. He looked mortified. “You know what,” he said, hastily, “I’d better go help them with the…thing…Good luck on the exam, you’ll ace it I’m sure…I’ll see ya later, yeah?”

“James—” Lily tried to call after him as he rushed from the hall. She felt awful. She hadn’t said it back. She should have. She’d wanted to. But, she had been so surprised and, in the moment, had panicked. And now, James thought she didn’t love him. Before she could ponder her mistake any further, the bell rang. Dammit. It was exam time. This debacle would have to wait.

---

The exam had been a breeze. Lily was relieved. Now, she had a week before her next NEWT. And, this meant she had time to brainstorm how to make it up to James.

She was laying on her bed, making random objects float around her head. She had no idea what to do. James was always the hopeless, dramatic, romantic type. And, frankly, he was usually the one apologizing to her. If their roles had been reversed, he’d have concocted some elaborate scheme to win back Lily’s affections—likely involving plots, dramatics, and the help of his gang of friends…His friends…that was it! Lily shot up from her laying position, invigorated. She was concocting a plan. Yes, yes, Lily now had a grand plan to declare her love for James Potter. She dashed down the stairs, clear on what she had to do next. In order to perform her grand, elaborate gesture, Lily would need the help of James’s best friends.

Luckily enough for Lily, the boys were all lounging in the Common Room—sans James. Lily knew he would be at Quidditch practice for the next hour and a half. Hopefully, this would give her enough time to organize her gesture.

“Remus!” Lily called out from across the room. “Sirius! Peter! I need your help!”

“Well, if it isn’t ‘heartless Lily Evans’ herself?” Sirius teased. He leaned back in his chair dangerously, resting his feet on the small wooden table. Peter chuckled until Lily flashed him a death glare. The runty little boy fell silent.

“I’m serious—I swear if you make a joke I’ll hex your balls off, Black!” Lily warned, just as Sirius had opened his mouth to make a pun about his name. He paled and shut it immediately.

“What do you need, Lily?” Remus asked kindly.

“I…well…you clearly know what happened this morning with James…” Lily looked down, embarrassed. The boys nodded. “I messed up. Royally. I need your help to make it right.”

“Our help?” Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you need our help?”

The three boys leaned forward, curious to hear what she had to say.

Lily grinned cunningly. “Well, I had this idea…”

---

Lily and the boys scrambled around for the next hour, making sure every little detail of their plan was set. Finally, the Gryffindor Common Room was ready for James’s arrival. Lily felt a little guilty abusing her Head Girl authority to throw the rest of the students out, but this was for the greater good.

“Hush, and get into positions!” Lily hissed impatiently at her three companions. They quickly scrambled away, ducking behind the chairs and suits of armor in the Common Room, out of sight.

“Wands at the ready!” She ordered, checking her watch for the thousandth time. James would be arriving soon. He must be close. Her heart began to pound anxiously.

A moment later, Lily heard the Fat Lady’s muffled voice as she conversed with someone else outside the door. It had to be James. But, what if it wasn’t? Lily stupidly hadn’t planned on encountering any of his other Quidditch mates. What if one of them had arrived before James did?

Luckily for Lily, the top of a messy head of hair emerged from the portrait entryway. She breathed a sigh of relief. It was James. This was it.

“Lily?” James asked, raising an eyebrow. She stood alone in the middle of the atrium. Her legs felt like jelly. Perhaps she should have dressed up more. “What are you—”

“James Fleamont Potter,” Lily proclaimed, raising her wand above her head. The signal.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the infinitesimal movements of Remus, Sirius, and Peter, as they began casting their spells. The light in the Common Room turned pale pink. Fireworks began erupting over her head, spreading out around the room as they danced in the air. A flock of songbirds burst from the tip of Remus’s hidden wand flew promptly into a heart formation, chirping merrily. Two cherubs holding harps fluttered near them. Heart shaped bubbled filled the air. The scene was, in Lily’s opinion, utterly sickening with cliché. She hoped James would love it.

“I love you, too.” Lily said, just as the fireworks regrouped in above head, spelling out the same message in flashing lights. Gooey harp sounds echoed through the air. The birds clumped together in a tight formation and flew to James, turning into a bouquet of roses before his eyes.

Lily held her breathe as she watched her boyfriend take in the scene before him. James looked up from the bouquet, grinning madly.

“Well?” Lily asked. “Say something?”

“WOOHOO!” James shouted, rushing to Lily and taking her in his arms. He lifted her off of the ground as he spun her around. Lily laughed as he set her back down.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say it earlier,” she apologized.

“Lily,” said James seriously, “Don’t ever apologize. This way was much better. I feel like the belle of the ball.” He winked.

“Only the best for you, your majesty,” Lily teased back. She was staring into James’s eyes as he held her hands when a chorus of cheers erupted from behind them.

“What the hell?” James jumped back, startled to find his three best friends who had materialized beside them.

“Nice one, Evans,” Sirius clapped her on the back. “I knew Prongs’d fall for this sappy romantic crap, the big softie.”

“Who’re you calling a softie?” James pouted.

“You, idiot. Look, you haven’t even snogged your girlfriend yet. You’ve just gazed lovingly into her eyes. It’s gross!”

Remus and Lily shared a look. “Come on, Sirius, Peter, let’s give these two some privacy.”

As the three boys walked off towards their dormitories, James grabbed Lily by the waist and pulled her close. “Just for that, I’m gonna snog her extra hard now!” He shouted into the distance. Sirius’s laughing reply echoed down the stairs.

Lily shook her head affectionately. “You’re an idiot.”

James smiled back, running a hand through her hair. “But you love me.”

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