#when i was art blocked during the school year all i would do is doodle aradia and jade in the margins of my paper

[clearwillow]

I posted 1,798 times in 2022

551 posts created (31%)

1,247 posts reblogged (69%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@mamabearcat

@clearwillow

@heynikkiyousofine

@inuyasha-sugar-and-spice

@lavendertwilight89

I tagged 778 of my posts in 2022

#inuyasha - 176 posts

#inukag - 136 posts

#kagome - 117 posts

#inuyasha fanfiction - 52 posts

#fanart - 44 posts

#doujinshi - 35 posts

#six sentence sunday - 33 posts

#pick your six - 25 posts

#doujinshi update - 19 posts

#mating fever doujinshi - 17 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#my family tree is a walking heart issue so i should probably eliminate the k-cups entirely but i hate wasting and there's no one to take em

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Hi my love! I hope you’re okay. Will you draw some fluffy InuKag napping together for me? I know it’s not much of a distraction but it would make me feel better as well!

Sending you all the love. 💕

Hi @heynikkiyousofine 💕 I can definitely draw some InuKag fluff for you! I hope you feel better too hun! (it did help relax my mind, thank you 💕)

176 notes - Posted March 15, 2022

#4

Hiii if you’re still taking art prompts, would you consider drawing a canon InuKag kiss? 👀❤️

Of course, nonnie!

202 notes - Posted March 18, 2022

#3

When I saw the inspiration picture for the @inuyasharedraw event, I knew I wanted to give it a try. Originally thought about a fantasy RPG AU version, but then my hand slipped and we have high school uniform Kagome!

I dunno I just liked the idea of during the three years Kagome was blocked from everyone else, she seriously contemplated using her abilities to blast a hole through the well. She did it once before, why not? Granted she was blasting away tree roots and smashed the other side all up back then with nerfed levels, so I can't even imagine what she'd do when she's uncapped.

215 notes - Posted September 20, 2022

#2

Imagine Sesshomaru stumbling on the three Inuyashas. “Oh no, they multiplied.”

Nonny, I want you to know I spent all night on this one, just for those expressions. And a bonus Rin who came to visit Kaede and is ecstatic that she's now got three "Uncle" Inuyashas.

257 notes - Posted March 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Saw that 11/4 is Moroha Day and doodled the best girl 💕

263 notes - Posted November 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[dransnake]

Hello and welcome! My name is dransnake, but y'all can call me dran! My pronouns are she/her and it/its, and which one I want to use depends on the day (I'm fluid between both). I won't be mad if you use the wrong pronouns on the wrong day though.

My art tag: dran doodles

My writing tag: dran drabbles

Commissions are currently closed! But here is a link to my Kofi anyhow.

-

I run two other blogs on here!

@doodlings-of-a-dragon is my art blog! I'll be putting actual serious art on here when I make it. During the school year it might be a little slow to update though.

@dragon-posting is my dragon reblog blog. This is replacing my dragon tag from my old account, and now it's a whole dragon blog! You have a dragon you want to show me? Tag either this blog or dragon-posting and it'll probably end up there :3c

Thank you for reading, have a nice day!

-

Disclaimers:

I like to ramble a lot, so if I make any text posts expect them to be longer (I'm making this post under the cut because of this)

I mostly use likes as a way to gauge if I've seen a post or not. I'm not a bot I promise, just forgetful. I try and reblog art when I can, I just have a low energy threshhold.

I am LGBTQIA+ friendly, but I know I have internal biases that I'm working on. If I do or say something hurtful, feel free to call me on it.

All of my art posts and image posts will have alt text or image descriptions attached to them! Sadly I cannot guarantee the same for reblogged posts, but I'll try to add image descriptions when I can. I'm just one person though. Again, low energy threshhold.

Honestly I don't really like DNI lists. Interact if you want, I don't care. If you do something to tick me off, then I'll just use the block button. Y'all don't need to know how I'm curating my internet experience, but if something important comes up I'll actually talk about it.

This being said! If I do something to tick you off, just block me. I won't be hurt by it (usually). Please don't make curating your online experience my job :(

I am not neurotypical. Good luck finding out what I am though :)

Feel free to ask me to tag something! I'm happy to be accommodating to other's needs. Just send me an ask in the askbox. I don't bite most of the time, I promise.

However: Please don't send me an ask with a request to reblog your post (especially if it's a post asking for donations). Listen. I get it, we all fall into hard times and I've been there. However, too many times there have been people lie about their situation to get money from others. It's basically impossible to tell which ones are real or not, and I would much rather NOT be a blog that enables this behavior. I will not be reblogging fundraisers. I hate that I have to put this disclaimer here, but I've had it happen to me multiple times (and one time TWICE from the same person months later with the same exact problem).

#pinned post

[lemonpeter]

My first fill for @peterparkerbingo : Teacher/teacher !

I’ve had a little bit of a writers block, so I’m sorry if this isn’t my best. But I enjoyed writing it and I hope y’all enjoy reading it! 💕 just a bit of spidershield

1.5K words

Warnings: unprofessional behavior between coworkers, fluff, I think that’s it lol

***

Mr. Parker was no stranger to the stares of others. Whether his students, or his coworkers, or even the parents of his students sometimes, he knew that he was watched.

It didn’t bother him in the slightest.

Which was why he agreed to model for Mr. Rogers’ class. And also because he loved being around the other teacher.

The art teacher from across the hall needed a model for his class to do figure drawing. And he’d come to Peter first.

His reasoning was that the teacher had a strong body from dancing for so many years. And that allowed him to stay in positions to be drawn for longer periods of time.

The reasons he didn’t list were that he wanted an excuse to stare at the gorgeous man for a couple hours without seeming weird. But he didn’t need to tell anyone that.

Peter walked into the classroom during his free block, a small smile tugging at his lips when he saw Steve. The other teacher had charcoal smudged on his cheek and forehead and didn’t seem to notice at all. Or maybe he didn’t care.

“Pete! I mean- Mr. Parker.” Steve cleared his throat, grinning a little. “Hey, thank you so much for doing this. You’re the best.”

The younger man waved his hand, laughing. “It’s no big deal, I didn’t have anything going on right now anyways. I’m happy to help.”

Steve nodded. He rubbed at his nose momentarily, effectively smearing another black streak across his face. “Okay, so, the kids will all be here in a couple minutes. You know how most of them wait right up until the bell.” He gave Peter a knowing look. “But you’ll just be right there in the center and I’ll position you once we’re all ready, okay?”

Peter nodded, smile reaching his eyes as he watched Steve. “Sounds perfect. Now, do you want some help cleaning up?”

The art teacher blinked at him, glancing around the room. “I think I’m good, my kids are usually pretty-“

Peter shook his head, brushing his thumb over the charcoal mark on his cheek. “Not the room. Your face. You’ve got a little….” He rubbed at the mark gently until it started coming off.

“Oh! Oh, I’m okay.” Steve’s cheeks colored and he stepped away from Peter’s touch. “Thank you, though. I’m just gonna get more on me, right?” He joked a little. “No point in cleaning yet.”

Peter smiled at him fondly, nodding. “Alright. That makes sense.”

Students began filing in, whispering to those around them as they eyed the other teacher in the room. It wasn’t like it was anything scandalous to walk in on, but everyone loved drama and the chance to start a rumor. It was the most fun part about school. And almost everyone believed that there was something between the two teachers already.

Steve cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention when the final bell rang and the last of his students trickled in. “Alright, I mentioned yesterday that we’d be working on sketching figures today. So Mr. Parker here was kind enough to be our volunteer figure. Isn’t that nice of him?”

A few weak “Thanks, Mr. Parker”s were mumbled, but almost everyone stayed focused on Steve and getting their supplies out of their bags.

“Okay, so-“ Steve made his way to where Peter was standing, mentally figuring out how he wanted him positioned. Then he reached out to move him before pausing. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Peter’s cheeks burned at the words when he heard the giggles from around the room in response, but nodded. “Of course.”

The art teacher’s hands gently guided Peter to where he wanted him, positioning him in a traditional ballet fourth position with one hand in front of him with the other gracefully held above his head. Peter moved his feet into position on his own when he understood.

“Do you think you can hold this position?” Steve asked softly, pulling his hands away to look at the younger man after he was finished.

“Of course.” Peter nodded, not moving at all. He knew that holding his arm up would get tiring eventually, but he didn’t want to ruin the picture. So he stayed as still as possible.

“Perfect. Thank you.” Steve smiled, going to his own seat and looking around at his students. “This is the position you’ll draw him in. You have all of class to complete your picture, it’s due by the bell.”

Everyone quickly got to work, eyes on Peter.

Steve started on his own sketch, an easy smile on his face as he started.

A recreation of Peter began to fill his page. Firm muscle on a slim body, his upper body hidden mostly beneath a loose blue tee. Dainty fingers holding position that lead into strong arms. Thick thighs that Steve wanted to feel wrapped around him that were clear in tight leggings. A soft bulge that the man had to be sure he didn���t pay too much attention to.

His sketch became clearer as time went on, as he was sure to capture every single detail of the man he admired from across the hall.

Just as he finished the gentle smile that curved at Peter’s lips with a stroke of his pencil, the bell broke through his blissful trance.

Steve blinked as he looked up, seeing his students packing up and Peter relaxing from his pose. “Oh, leave your papers at the table by the door. Make sure you signed your name on them,” he called before too many could get out the door.

Peter’s fingers gently massaged at his stiff arm as he relaxed, not noticing the other teacher approaching him again.

“I hope you’re not too sore.” Steve spoke up, his sketch held between his fingers. “I’m sorry if the position I picked was too…demanding. I just figured it would look nice.”

“No, it’s alright,” Peter assured him. “I’m a tough guy, I can take it,” he joked. His eyes landed on the drawing hanging at Steve’s side in his hand and nodded towards it. “I saw you were pretty focused over there. Can I see it?”

The teacher looked at the paper like he’d forgotten it was there and then back at the other man. “Oh- uh, yeah. Sure.” He held the sketch out nervously.

The dance teacher took it with a smile, eyes scanning over the drawing as he took in every detail.

He was quiet for a moment. Two moments. Long enough to make Steve worried that he did something wrong. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not-“

“Shh,” Peter scolded, not looking away from the page in his hand. “You’re ruining the moment.”

Steve shut his mouth again, watching him. Ruining the moment? What was that supposed to mean?

After a few more seconds, Peter finally looked up. “I’m not sure who exactly that is that you drew. He can’t be me,” he said confidently.

“What?” The picture looked exactly like him. Steve may have been a little rusty, but it was definitely Peter.

“Nope, can’t be. Because whoever that is is gorgeous.” The dance teacher grinned at him, the expression a little goofy. “Steve, you’re incredible.”

Steve finally relaxed again, laughing a little. “Oh. Thanks, I don’t know about incredible, but thank you.”

Peter went to hand the paper back, looking up at him when he was stopped. “It’s yours.”

“No, I want you to have it. Please.”

The dancer smiled more, nodding. “Thank you.” Then he paused, going to grab a scrap piece of paper and a pencil.

Steve watched him curiously, chuckling at how he was furiously scribbling on the paper. “Okay?”

“Shh, I’m creating.”

After about a minute of frantic doodling, Peter confidently held up the paper and handed it over.

Steve raised an eyebrow, laughing loudly as he saw the drawing. He just couldn’t help himself. “Why am I a triangle? With just a circle for a head?”

Peter pouted a little before laughing with him. “We can’t all be artists. But that’s not the important part.”

Steve looked lower on the paper, brows furrowing when he saw a number. “I already have your extension. And you’re across the hall. Why would I need-“

“That’s my cell number, Steve.” Peter started to walk to the door. So he wouldn’t be stuck there if he was rejected. “Feel free to call. For anything.”

“Your cell…why?”

Peter sighed, leaning against the doorway. “I want you to call me, Stevie. Clear enough for you?” He bit the inside of his cheek before blurting out his comment. “Maybe you could do some more figure drawing of me. Just not as professional.”

He rushed to leave after what he said, face flushed in embarrassment. What the hell was that?

Steve watched him go, eyes squinted as students for his next class filed in. “Not as professional…what does- oh my god, does that mean naked?”

His classroom fell completely silent and he wished that he could take his words back. He’d forgotten that they could hear every word.

One brave soul decided to speak up after the silence continued. “I say go for it.”

#spidershield #my writing #peter parker #steve rogers #steve x peter #steve rogers x peter parker #dance teacher!Peter #art teacher!steve #peterparkerbingo2021 #if there are any insane obvious editing mistakes let me know #other than that just ignore them lol I’m tired and am proud for even getting this much written

[seokiloquy]

Bruised Ink - Kageyama Tobio

Soulmate AU: When you write on your skin it appears in the same spot on your soulmates body

Requested (though I changed it a bit to keep it as canon as possible)

Tags/Warnings: GN!Reader, Kageyama being a bit of an airhead, mild swearing

Word Count: 1.7K+

Art club, morning, lunch, and after school. Though admittedly your art club supervisor / English teacher didn’t enjoy seeing an eager face so early in the morning. She, over a matter of days, had gotten used to your silent presence in the corner of the art room as she worked on papers, occasionally asking for your opinion on a topic. 

“See you after school!” you called down the hall, before waving to your aforementioned supervisor who was talking to the art teacher in the corner.

You flicked your uniform jacket off, letting it hang off the top of a chair as you ran to your canvas. The clean paint brushes waited patiently next to the progressing piece of art and your pallet rested next to them, mummified and waiting to let it’s paints feel the air again. You delicately picked at the tape wrapped around the pallet, pulling it off to reveal the chemical smell of acrylics.

You gazed at your painting for a moment, admiring the contrasting muted colours that blended nicely into the slowly fading background. Taking a brush, no larger than the width of your pinky, you reached for a vibrant green and royal blue, ready to dollop small portions onto your pallet. You huffed through your nose as a clump of blue stuck to your fingers. With no paper towel in sight, you kept your mouth shut and rubbed the paint against the back of your opposite arm. 

“You’re going to stain your skin,” your teacher huffed behind you as she walked to her desk, brushing a free hand through her bob cut. “It looks almost like a bad bruise.”

You sighed, picking up your pallet and brush, gently working the bright teal colour you mixed into the layers of your canvas. “Maybe, but if I’m lucky it’ll be gone before any of the other teachers notice just like every other time.”

She gave you a quirked brow sliding into your spinning chair that was tucked into the corner of the room. She grabbed a pen with one hand and sipped on her coffee mug with the other. “What do you mean by that?”

You laughed. “Every time I doodle, draw, paint, or just anything on my skin whatsoever, it’s gone before I see it again.” 

“So your soulmate’s washing it off before class?” she hummed, turning her eyes away from your blocked-out painting and onto the sheets before her.

“I don’t have a tattoo or a red string, so most likely, ya. They probably don’t want to get in trouble. Or maybe they’re in a swim club and don’t even notice it?”

Chuckling she looked up but kept her head down, gifting you the sight of a mischievous look. “Or they could be sweating it all off.”

“How often does a person sweat to get rid of that much ink on a daily basis?”

“There are some dedicated athletes out there.” She shrugged, rubbing the golden tattoo on the back of her hand. “Then again, all soulmate connections are a bit different.

Humming, you turned back to your painting that leaned against the wall. “What are you working on this morning, Ms. Ono?”

Behind you, a page flipped followed by a groan. “First-year English.”

“First-year? I thought you taught second-year English?”

“I did for Sugawara’s class, but I usually teach the first-year.”

You pushed your brush into the canvas a little harder. “Damn, I thought I would get to be in your class.”

“Sorry, kiddo, but you wouldn’t be in my English class anyway. But your Japanese is improving!”

You huffed through your nose. “I’d hope so, the Sugawara’s really aren’t giving me a break.” You studied your canvas and took a step back, looking at how the light bounced off the surface and made the teal look with the less saturated colours.

“Good on them.”

“Don’t encourage it!”

“Kageyama, what happened to your arm?”

The boy’s grown out bowl cut swished as he flipped his arms around turning his head in search before eventually finding the offending colour that had spread into his skin. Twisting his arm, he gave the colour an indecisive look, before poking it his index finger. “Must be a bruise. Probably smacked it when we were setting up the net. Doesn’t hurt though. So hurry up, let’s get started.”

“Why does everyone have to get to school so early,” Sugawara mumbled to himself, pushing the door to the gym open as he ruffled his hair. He spoke louder, “Tanaka, can’t you stop these two?”

“Sorry, dude. But I’m having fun with this. Why are you here so early anyway?”

Sugawara sat down in the doorway, changing his shoes and rolling off his uniform pants to reveal his loose shorts for practice. “(Y/N) has been coming to school early to paint. And my parents said ‘they’ll get lost, you go too’ instead of ‘no, sleep a little longer.’” 

Tanaka huffed through his nose, “Has (L/N) been settling in well?”

“Oh ya. Eichi loves the new company. But now I have to keep up with essentially two siblings instead of one and these two idiots.” The silver-haired boy yawned as he gestured at the two first years that yelled at each other while throwing balls into the air.

Tanaka gets out a gruff chuckle before running into the centre of the gym to join the duo with endless energy.

“Gone again,” you mumbled as you slowly packed up the bento box that Koushi’s mom had prepared for you.

Your arm, which had been covered in paint stains and ink marks across the whole colour spectrum, had been wiped clean. No doubt the work of your soulmate and whatever activity they partook in during their free time. 

Grumbling, you took out your white ink pen and doodled a subtle frowning face on the inner crease of your wrist.

Ms. Ono rose from her seat, patting away invisible dirt that clung to her dark pencil skirt as the warning bell sounded through the speaker system. “Alright, (L/N). I have a class to teach, out you get.” She shuffled hat stacked papers in her hand, pausing for a moment as a look of realization was thrown onto her face. “Oh and, there won’t be art club this evening, so tell the other members too.”

“What? but that’s the best part of my day!”

“Sorry, (L/N) but I can’t be in here all the time.”

You whined, following the English teacher out of the room. Mr. Sato, the art head, walked into the paint-filled classroom as you left. You both gave him a friendly nod, before continuing with your conversation. “What can I do then? I’m not allowed to go home alone.”

Ms. Ono hummed, “Why don’t you sit in on Sugawara’s volleyball practice, you can use it as a figure study and sketch in your notebook.”

“I guess that’s not a bad idea.”

“Well, there you go. Alright, get, to class or you’ll be late.” She stepped into her sunlit classroom, walking straight for her desk with clicking heels.

You left the entryway of class 1-1’s homeroom and started making your way down the hall to your own room in class 1-4. As you weaved through the crowded hall of first years you kept your head up, looking for the nearest tunnel of space, only to get locked against the wall staring into the eyes of an intense schoolmate you were unaware of.

“Uh sorry,” you mumbled, looking away from his pinched brow and sharp eyes that only held your gaze for a moment.

He raised a brow, looking down the hall behind you to his classroom. Saying nothing, he huffed and schooled his expression. Placing the opposite hand on your shoulder, he spun your body to be behind him, switching locations, and continued down the hall. You watched his flat black hair bounce as he turned into class 1-3’s room.

“Well, isn’t he sweaty,” you mumbled to yourself as you made the last few steps into your classroom.

“Koushi, Koushi, Koushi. Are you sure it’s okay for me to sit in?”

“Just don’t encourage any foolishness and it should be fine. We still have to practice.”

You nodded, following your homestay as he led you to his club’s gym, rambling about his teammates.

“Ah, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi? They’re in my class. I didn’t know they played volleyball.”

“Do you talk to them?”

“No sir, I do not think Tsukishima's intimidating.”

Sugawara led you to the side where their manager stood, speaking with one of the teachers you had seen running around the school, you bowed silently as Sugawara quickly gave an introduction and ran off to change his shoes and clothes.

The group had an easy time ignoring your presence as you sat on the metal bench, flipping coloured pens between your fingers. Rough doodles filled the page as messily scribbled outlines took the form of the players you saw before you. Some were stretched out in the air while others dove to the ground in elegant swoops. 

Your pen skidded across the paper.

“Damn,” you muttered, lifting the tip and forcing it into the papers again. Nothing.

Twirling the ink-filled tool between your fingers you shifted the sketchbook off your lap and taking the pen to the surface of your skin.

The ink skidded, leaving uneven marks in an indecipherable pattern along the surface of your skin before running dry. You reached for another pen, only for the result to repeat. You grabbed another, and another. The pattern continued, pushing and pulling, dragging the fine tips as they slowly began to cover the entire surface of the back of your hand in every colour including your white ink, which luckily still worked fine and contrasted brilliantly with the muddied mess on your hand.

You huffed out a quiet cheer of success, finding that a majority of your pens worked fine, and placed the forgotten book back into your lap, coloured pages ready to be drawn over with your trusty series of pens.

“Yo, Kageyama. Is that another bruise?”

God this one is vague as hell but I didn’t have to brainpower to make it any more decipherable. 

It was originally requested that the reader be Sugawara’s little sibling but he only canonically has a little brother, not everyone physically looks like Sugawara, and the adoption trope is meh to me. So I went with a foreign exchange student that is being housed by his family. (if you couldn’t tell)

This au, in particular, is very hard because we try to keep our character (being Y/N) physically ambiguous for the purpose of allowing everybody to enjoy reading it. This au very much panders to those with lighter skin, so I apologize if I didn’t make it as open as I could’ve and please let me know if there are ways I can make this sort of au better. I want everyone to enjoy reading them and not feel excluded.

That’s all, and I hope everyone is healthy and safe. - Bacon

Posted: 06/12/2020

#kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #Haikyuu x reader #Haikyuu #x reader #oneshot #oneshots #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu reader insert #reader insert #aus #haikyuu aus #fluff #haikyu #anime x reader #anime #manga x reader #manga

[svnflowervol666]

Hey!! Could you write an imagine where the reader is an artist and wakes up early, Harry is sleeping next to her and for a few minutes she's there watching him and then decides to draw him while he sleeps and when she's finishing Harry wakes up? Thank you so much ♥️

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: mentions of smut

Author’s Note: Thank you for the request! Like always, if you’re interested, let me know what you’d like for me to write next. Take care and tpwk.

Y/N wasn’t very sure how she’d managed to wake up before Harry considering how hard they partied last night. Her head pounded in her ears and she felt an overwhelming sense of dehydration in her throat. The events of the evening were somewhat blurry after Harry handed her a shot of something wretched and led her immediately to the dancefloor to work up a sweat. She knew judging from the fact that she was stark naked in the bed she shared with Harry and the fact that she could see her dress from the night before shimmering in the sunlight off in the corner of the room haphazardly that they’d at least made love to each other when they got home. Aside from that, her mind was drawing a blank.

Seeing as the blinding light from the harsh, early morning sun made it impossible to go back to sleep, she carefully removed the limp, ringed hand that was draped around her waist and wriggled her way over to her nightstand to grab her phone. Fuck, she thought to herself. Her battery was dead and she couldn’t be arsed to lean all of the way down to the ground to reach for her charger. After lying there for a moment and contemplating how to proceed with the morning, in which she decided she certainly would not be getting out of bed to start the day just yet, she reached a bit further past her phone for the sketchbook and pencil that Harry had gotten her for her birthday last year.

It was almost completely full of her drawings and doodles, something she prided herself in. Often times, she’d lose her sketchbook or spill her coffee on it before she could finish drawing in all of the pages. Maybe it was the fact that Harry had gotten this one for her which meant it was special, or maybe it was just luck, but she’d managed to hold on to this one almost down to the very last page. 

In an attempt to soothe her hangover without getting out of bed, she began drawing away. She started by finishing up the flower she had started the other day after saw the most beautiful bunch of daisies while on her daily walk with Harry. Sure, they were technically an invasive weed that took over greenery like wildfire, but Y/N always thought they were beautiful. 

When she’d perfected that one enough to her liking, she flipped the page and started another drawing. This one was also unfinished, and it was a landscape portrait of the bungalow she shared with Harry while on their vacation to Bora Bora last year. She’d been on many vacations and stayed in many nice houses since that trip, but this bungalow she’d never forget. It was where Harry took her to tell her that he loved her, though she hadn’t known that at the time. They had been having the time of their lives, drinking sugary, alcoholic beverages all throughout the day and lounging lazily by the ocean. Harry finally told her while they watched the sunset on their third night there. It slipped out faster and not as smoothly as Harry had imagined the moment in his head, but the overwhelming, swooning sensation he felt in his chest whenever he looked at Y/N made it impossible for the words to not spew from his lips. She’d never forgotten that trip because it was where she fell significantly more in love with Harry than she already had been.

There wasn’t much that needed to be done on the portrait of the bungalow, just some shading on the roof and a bit more detail on the waves that surrounded the structure. She finished that one fairly quickly then moved on to her next blank page. This one, she fucked up. What she had tried to draw one of her old pets from memory, but for some reason, it wasn’t looking right. She quickly scrapped the piece of paper and moved on to the next page, which was coincidentally the final page in her sketchbook.

She pondered for a moment on what idea in her head would earn the final spot in her book of drawings. She could try to draw her pet again? No, she shook her head softly to herself. Hers and Harry’s favorite table at the coffee shop that was down the block from their London apartment? No, she’d need to get a better look at the place before she attempted something like that. She looked around the now bright and sunny space of their bedroom, trying to find something that would shoot a spark in her brain and cause her to think of the perfect thing to draw. As she turned her head towards the sleeping, seemingly unconscious body that burrowed itself into the gigantic, down comforter beside her, it struck her.

Y/N propped herself up on her side so she could get a better look at the scene in front of her. Harry was sleeping the morning away, though she couldn’t say she blamed him since she didn’t even remember coming home last night (or was it technically this morning?). His face was completely covered by the huge down comforter that he’d hogged from her, but she didn’t mind. All that was visible of Harry was the top of his head, adorned with messy, chocolate-colored waves, and the outstretched palm of his left hand. That was it. His hand.

Her hangover had more or less subsided by now without the need of a greasy diner breakfast or a handful of headache medicine, so she was able to work diligently on her newest and final sketch. She traced over every crease and dip of his long, slender fingers, making sure no detail went unnoticed. Every ring, including the large, gold ‘H’ and ‘S’ rings on his ring and pinky fingers got their own moment in the spotlight. His bright yellow nail polish, the color that she’d picked out for him last week, was slightly chipped at the corners, but it only added to the uniqueness of the piece. Each knuckle she shaded with the closest attention. Unlike her old pet or the table at the cafe, she was almost certain she could draw this from memory, but a little reinforcement never hurt. Plus, she felt like she could stare at Harry’s hands for days on end without growing tired of them.

Harry’s hands were miracle workers for her. They’d held her through both her darkest and brightest days. They’d made her feel safe in times when she’d never felt so alone, and during big moments when she couldn’t be sad even if she tried. Harry’s hands cooked her breakfast on Sunday mornings, carried her to bed when she’d fallen asleep watching Netflix in the living room, massaged her tired feet after a long day of work, brushed her hair out of her eyes before kissing her goodnight each night, made her see stars as he pleasured her over and over again with his skillful fingers. So many times people overlook what hands do in a relationship, but not Y/N. 

It was right when she was shading the corner of Harry’s cross tattoo that was barely visible from beyond the comforter she felt the bed sheets rustle and the sweet creature beside her come to. The peaceful silence of Y/N doodling away was broken when Harry moved his hand, the one she had been drawing, towards his face to rub harshly at his emerald green eyes.

“Wha’ ‘re you doin awake? ‘ts so early,” she heard his groggy, morning voice pierce the walls of the room.

“It’s almost noon, Harry,” she responded softly, letting the sketchbook fall gently into her lap.

“Oh, shit,” the lanky brunette chuckled, “Wha’ did we do last night?”

“I was actually hoping you could tell me.”

“‘ve got no idea, princess,” Harry groaned before reaching over to pat her thigh, feeling the hard material of her sketchbook instead.

“You drawin’? Lemme see.”

He plucked the open notepad from her lap to examine what she’d been drawing while he was asleep. She didn’t feel embarrassed or like she needed to snatch the book away from him before he could see that she’d been drawing his hands whilst he slept. That was another thing Y/N loved about Harry, how she never felt shy or that she needed to hide her art from him. He always praised her work whenever he crossed paths with it, so she was always willing to share her latest masterpiece.

“M’ hand? You drew my hand while I was asleep?” Harry was still delirious from a combination of his hazy, half-asleep half-awake state.

“I love your hands,” she stated firmly but softly, “plus, it was the last page in my sketchbook so I wanted it to be of something important.”

“Hmm,” Harry pondered as he cased over the drawing once more, “I like this one, but I think I much rather prefer the one you drew of my co-”

“Yeah, I’m sure you do,” Y/N interrupted his sentence and yanked the sketchbook from his grasp before placing it back on its home on the nightstand.

She took her rightful half of the comforter back from Harry and nestled herself back into bed, making sure to cozy right up into Harry’s warm, bare chest so they could have a proper, conscious cuddle before dreadfully starting their day. The two of them were adults now and while they were still granted the privilege of being able to party, they couldn’t stay in bed and waste the day away after a long night of drinking like they used to.

Harry traced soft circles on Y/N’s back with the same hand that she was drawing just minutes ago, almost lulling her back to sleep. He watched as her breathing evened out and her eyes began to droop despite her awareness that they had a late lunch planned with Anne and Gemma in a few hours. 

“Baby,” Harry beckoned her back to consciousness.

Her eyes blinked open quickly, unaware of how she’d almost went right back to sleep in Harry’s arms.

“Yeah?”

“We’ve got to meet up wi’ mum and Gem soon. ‘Need to get up.”

“Ten more minutes.”

This made Harry chuckle, seeing how she was acting like a grumpy teenager who refused to wake up for school in the morning. God, how he loved her.

“How about I show you just how important my hands are to you and then we hop in the shower, yeah? Sound like a plan?”

She opened one eye just slightly enough to see that Harry was giving her his iconic smirk that caused one of his dimples to shine through. Leave it to Harry to squeeze in a shag before lunch with his own mum.

She supposed she really couldn’t say no to that.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styes imagine #harry styles smut #asks

[animeniacss]

A Palette of Emotions - Artist!Taehyung x Teacher!Reader - Chapter 31 - Forever My Muse - FINALE

Synopsis: Taehyung dreams of being a professional and famous artist one day, but finds that the sea of creativity can be lurking with blood hungry sharks, as well as bland, motionless starfish. Swimming through the sea of opportunities somehow washed him up onto the shore of Bright Star Preschool, as an art teacher. This wasn’t where he expected to be 4 years into his career, but anything to get his big break though, right?

Feat. BTS, TXT, ITZY, Jisoo (BlackPink), Taeyong (NCT)

Genre: Romance, Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Drama, School Setting, Working!AU

Length: approx. 6k words

Chapter 31 - Forever My Muse -FINALE

-------18 months later------

“Yes, Mom, I’ll be there soon.” You said into the phone. “Mom, I just got off the train. Have Bong-Cha send me your location and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Fine. Just hurry, we ordered appetizers to hold us over but we’re starving.” Rolling your eyes, you closed your phone and stuck it back into your purse. As you exited the train, you made your way up the steps and onto the streets of Itaewon. It was a bustling city you seldom got to visit due to your hectic work schedule, which had only grown in the past year or so. Checking the time, you sighed. Bong-Cha and your mother whisked you out here for a weekend getaway in Itaewon, your mother promising family bonding time, while your sister promised to get you drunk and meet a guy in a club. Honestly, you weren’t sure what you wanted to do, but the new scenery alone was enough to make you already feel at peace.

Making your way down the street, you checked the map on your phone that your sister sent, showing their location.

I’m five minutes away, now. Order me a drink or something, I’ll be there soon. You had texted her. As you stuck your phone in your purse, scanning the last few steps of the map, you noticed a large crowd of individuals at the end of the block. “Hm…” you tilted your head, picking up the pace slightly as you hurried down there to see the commotion. Upon closer inspection, you saw several different stands on individuals spread out for several blocks. All of them looked as if to be selling something, such as previously made jewelry, or drawing created of a person right there by the artist. You watched one of the men, tall with a blue stripe in his hair, doodled a picture of a little brother and sister duo who were sitting in a chair, legs kicking as they grew impatient with every passing minute. Cute. You thought. Maybe Bong-Cha and Mom will want to get one when we finish lunch. With that thought in your mind, you continued heading through the crowds of people in hopes to make it to your destination in under 5 minutes. As you were walking, however, you noticed another table at the corner.

A young girl held a painting up on a table. Her black hair was blowing in the wind as she spoke to a young couple, causing her to pull it into a ponytail, though she continued to speak. “I made the original of this during a final project, and I love it so much, I began making it into a series.” You heard her say. Walking past, you caught a glimpse of the picture, an array of rainbow colors mixed with black to create an abstract rainbow. You could only imagine what the remainder of this “series” looked like. Just as you were about to turn your head away, another voice entered your ears.

“Chaeyoung, don’t sell them lies!” You turned around just as the sound of playful laughter filled the table and trickle into the crowd. When you did, you saw a mess of brown hair underneath a beret, only some poking out near his ears and above his eyes. Despite the hair throwing you off, a familiar boxy grin kept your attention. You watched Chaeyoung playfully slap him, sticking her tongue out as the male returned to his own set of work. You watched as he pulled out what seemed to be a piece of paper and a pencil, looking down at the two met and he began to work. It took less than ten seconds for you to see this man to recognize exactly who it was: Kim Taehyung.

For a moment, your breath caught in your throat and you had to wonder if this was a sick joke being played on you by the world. Never in a lifetime did you expect to see Taehyung again, much less out in Itaewon seemingly selling artwork again. After a moment of silent viewing, you tried to turn and continue walking. However, when a deep, familiar voice called your name, you got chills. A round of chills flooded your body, and you rubbed your arm. Turning your head, you saw Taehyung had circled the table and was standing on the street, people now having to walk around him. “…Hey.” He called.

“…Hey!” You said, forcing an immediate smile. You stepped a bit closer. “I thought that was you. What are you doing here of all places?”

“I should be asking you the same thing.” Taehyung smiled. “Have you become a late-night clubber?” You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, biting your lip.

“No, my mother and sister are here. We can for a family trip, and my sister got to pick this time around. You know her.” Taehyung nodded as he remembered the feisty younger girl. “I’m meeting them for lunch now. In fact, I think I’m late.” Taehyung watched you flip open your phone to check the time, and he nodded.

“Oh right. Sorry, I didn’t mean to hold you up. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t going crazy when I thought I saw you.”

“He’s definitely going crazy.” You heard a girl, who you saw to be Chaeyoung, shout. She was putting some money in her pocket, and when she looked up at you, she smirked a bit. Giggling, you looked back at Taehyung, who rolled his eyes.

“I’ll let you go. But it was nice to see you.” You looked at his table, which was filled with artwork you had never seen before, new inspirational pieces backed up by new memories. Your mind led you back to when his painted resembled you, and a piece of your heart hurt at the idea that a year had gone by.

“You too.” You said softly. “If you’re still around later, I’d love to come to check out your work.” Taehyung nodded, smiling. “Okay. I’ll see you around…bye.” Taehyung waved his hand, setting it into his pocket as he watched you turn on your heel and headed into the crowd again. Taehyung watched you for a moment, a smile forming on his lips. When he looked over to Chaeyoung, he saw a sly smirk on her face.

“…What?”

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

An hour had passed when you arrived at lunch, and you had no intention of bringing up your reunion with Taehyung on the way here. Bong-Cha was chatting about her new boyfriend, and mom was asking questions about school. All the while you ate, nodded quietly and finished your meal without so much as “Taehyung” crossing your mind.

However, when silence filled the table, you felt your chest tighten. With nothing else to distract your thoughts, all you could think about was Taehyung. His new hairstyle, the beret, his adorable smile, the way he looked at you with those gentle, beautiful eyes.

“…I saw Taehyung on the way over here.” You finally blurted out. All eyes were on you, and you glanced up at Bong-Cha from across the table. Her eyes were wide, mouth agape.

“What, you saw him?” Bong-Cha gasped, popping some rice into her mouth. “Did you say hi?”

“Only for a second. He looked so different it took me a while to even recognize him at first.” Bong-Cha giggled.

“Well, it had been like a year since you last spoke to him.” She stated simply.

“18 months…” your mother pointed out simply. You and Bong-Cha looked at her as she returned to silently eating her rice. That had been the only thing she said since you brought the whole event up.

Bong-Cha simply turned back to you and smiled. You immediately noticed the twinkle in her eye; she was invested in this whole situation. “Are you going to go see him again?”

“I was going to go back, but I don’t think it’ll be what you think it is.” You stated simply. “It’s been a whole year-.”

“18-.”

“Yes, Mother, 18 months.” You said quickly. “But despite that, his Instagram was down and his cellphone got disconnected. It’s been a while since we’ve spoken, and I’m sure he’s moved on. He was selling art with another girl, after all.” Bong-Cha shrugged.

“I’m not saying anything is going to happen. But I’m saving after screaming your feelings in the walls of a train station and crying yourself to sleep for a month afterward, you deserve to talk to him and get some closure. I’m sure he wants that too.”

“Yeah, maybe…” you said softly.

“No, not maybe; definitely. You guys were like one more kiss away from dating one another, that’s not something people just brush under the rug.” You felt your cheeks go pink as you quickly put your final bite of rice in your mouth. “Mom and I just wanted to go to the hotel and swim, anyway. Go do what you have to do and meet us when you’re done.”

As the waiter came and your mother prepared to pay, you nodded. “Alright, alright. Fine.” You said simply. Bong-Cha nodded, satisfied as she finished her drink and leaned back in her chair. The three of you got up and exited the restaurant, but you parted ways at the door, your sister and mother returning to the hotel, while your feet carried you back towards the main street where Taehyung was. You were nervous at the idea of seeing him again. What would a long conversation lead to? You wondered about what had happened in his life these past 18 months. As you saw the crowds of people swarm the area, you knew that whatever happened, it would lead to answers that you realized you had so desperately wanted.

Chaeyoung was the first one to notice you return to the table. “She’s back.” She pointed out, motioning to you shuffling through the crowds. Taehyung looked up, rising from his seat as he walked back around the table, meeting you as you arrived.

“Hey.” He said again, bounce in his voice. You smiled.

“Hey.” You responded. “You’re pulling out the stops, hm? Getting up and greeting me both times.” Taehyung laughed a bit, running a hand through his hair.

“Is it weird?” he asked curiously. You smiled, shaking your head as you fixed your bag on your shoulder. Chaeyoung watched as you both stood there for a moment, watching each other. When the silence became seemingly unbearable, even for Chaeyoung, you turned to the table.

“These are new paintings?” you asked curiously. Taehyung nodded, walking up beside you and crossing his arms. “As lovely as usual. You never stop amazing me, Taehyung.”

A shy chuckle formed on his face, and he scratched the back of his neck. “Thank you…” he said softly. He glanced at Chaeyoung, who immediately leaned forward. When you looked at her, she was grinning. As you examined her beyond her stunning black hair, you noticed a few small and colorful tattoos on her arms; specifically a set of strawberries on her upper arm.

“Nice to meet you, Unnie. I’m Son Chaeyoung.” You smiled sweetly.

“Nice to meet you, Chaeyoung.” You greeted.

“You know, if you want to go somewhere and catch up, I can watch your stuff for you.” Her eyes immediately flickered to Taehyung, who glanced down at you. You had looked back down at some of his paintings, a hand gently gliding over one of them. “Go on. I’ll be sure to take 10% of any commissions you make on behalf of my selling skill.” Taehyung smiled.

“I knew you’d say that.” He spoke. As you stood up, you felt Taehyung put his hand on the small of your back. It sent shivers up your spine; nostalgic shivers that made your throat close in on itself. Glancing up at Taehyung, he offered you a warm smile. “Want to go get some coffee?”

“Okay…” you said. You waved to Chaeyoung, who nodded her head cheerfully as she watched the two of you walk off into the crowd. When you were gone, she plopped down in her seat and smiled, glancing over to the rest of Taehyung’s paintings beside his chair. She snickered to herself.

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

The two of you found a small coffee shop nearby and made your way inside. Taehyung offered to buy the coffee while you found a seat. As you waited, you watched him. He was talking to the barista as he placed his order, laughing and smiling without a care in the world. You couldn’t help but smile too. This conversation had you excited, you must admit. “Here you go,” Taehyung said, setting the coffee mug down in front of you. He plopped himself down across from you. “So…” you quickly took a sip of your coffee. “How are things at the preschool?”

“Alright.” You smiled sweetly. “We ended up expanding everything so now there are two classrooms. I have one and so does Hoseok. We even started hiring more staff like a permanent gym teacher and…” you shrugged. “And art teacher.”

“That’s awesome.” Taehyung smiled.

“Yeah. And they’re looking for someone to overtake my job in the next year. I decided to go back to school to teach in an actual elementary school. I wanted to expand my horizons a bit, so…” Taehyung nodded. “I finish in one more year.”

“Good luck.” He cheered.

“Thanks. What about you? I figured once you started school, you’d stop selling artwork on the streets and at venues and stuff?” Taehyung shrugged.

“Nah. I still put my work up at school events but going out like this and doing it is just a ton more fun.” He chuckled. “Plus, Chaeyoung really likes it, so we normally make it a weekend trip.” Nodding your head, you looked down at your coffee. You watched the steam rise from it, warming your face as if it were a furnace right under your chin.

“She seems like a sweet girl. You’re lucky.” You said simply. Taehyung laughed a bit, and you glanced up.

“Not really. She and I ended up starting the same year, even though she’s a bit younger than me. We worked on a few projects together and got close. She’s crazy talented, she’s even designed her tattoos.” A small smile crawled on your lips as you heard him speak.

“She seems very kind, like I said, you’re lucky.” Taehyung’s smile faded when he saw you lift your coffee to your lips, taking a long sip of the hot drink. Taehyung quickly leaned forward a bit, staring directly into your eyes. “Don’t get the wrong idea.” He said. “We’re not a thing, she’s just a friend.”

You looked at him. Taehyung glanced down at took your hand into his. “It’s not any of my business, either way.” You said simply.

“You looked bothered. The last thing I want is any more miscommunication between us.” You couldn’t help but laugh a bit. “So yeah, she’s just a friend.”

“Okay.” You said simply.

Silence fell over you for a moment.

“How is Mr. Kim?” Taehyung asked.

“Still running the school. Same as always.” you smiled. Silence again.

“Hoseok-Hyung?” he asked curiously.

“Great now that he has that whole class to himself. He’s doing great.” Taehyung nodded, smiling. Once again, silence.

“Namjoon?” he asked curiously. That was the one he was most interested in.

“Well.” You began. “We lost contact when Kai finished with the preschool. I still talk to him once and a while, but not as often…” Taehyung nodded. Knowing what he knows now, he wondered if Namjoon purposely made that choice to limit contact with you, especially after what he remembered seeing of Namjoon pulling you back from the moving train as you cried. “I know Jungkook is still in school, and I think is still a part-time babysitter.”

“That’s good,” Taehyung said. Silence filled the table once again, this time longer, as neither of you knew what to say anymore. You continued to sip your coffee, and watch as Taehyung did so as well. After what felt like an entire school year, you set your coffee down, you looked at him.

“You never returned my calls, you know.” You spoke. Taehyung looked up as you began to speak. “Then, I looked you up on Instagram and it was deleted, I couldn’t find you.” Taehyung sighed.

“I know. A lot happened after I left, and it happened so fast.” You watched Taehyung push his half-empty cup to the side and lean forward onto his elbows, looking up at you. “First, my phone broke. So, I got a whole new phone, and I had to get a whole new number. It was this whole mess, but whatever.” You chuckled as Taehyung forced a shrug. “I had to cut and redo my hair for school, hence the brown short hair.” You nodded.

“Which looks really good.” You wanted to make sure you pointed them out. Taehyung chuckled, smiling.

“Thanks,” said Taehyung. “Anyway, I settled in with my aunt and we started looking for apartments, which was a nightmare until I got that new phone. So, I found this small apartment right by campus and it was perfect, in walking distance, I started job hunting to save money. Everything was going well for just over a month, right?” you nodded, leaning forward to listen even more closely. “A month passes, I started school and get acquainted, everything is great. I have my new phone, and I noticed I had a weird message on Instagram. Once I got accepted to the school, my account started to blow up a bit more and I was getting these cool brand offers. I took a few, mainly art-based stuff, I felt like an Instagram influencer. It was wild.” Taehyung let out a frustrated sigh, and you knew it was coming to the good part soon. “One of those brands turned out to be a huge scam.”

“Oh god.” You gasped.

“I know. Some crazy girl posed as a brand representative for a new set of paintbrushes and asked me to promote them. Somehow, she hacked into my Instagram and took the whole thing over. She was posting some crazy, sasaeng shit.” Your eyes widened as Taehyung took out his phone, skimming through some of the pictures and holding them up. All posts, which were candid photos of Taehyung all over campus, were paired with a caption about this girl’s love for Taehyung. You scrolled through a few, reading the captions in shock. When you handed back the phone to him, he set it into his pocket. “I saved them in case I found out who it was and sued them.”

“What happened?” you asked.

“I found out it was some girl on campus. We traced everything to her apartment, which was right across the street from mine. She got expelled and I told her if it happened again, I would press charges. She moved out of the apartment and I haven’t heard from her since.”

“Oh my God, Taehyung, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. So, I haven’t remade an Instagram since. I don’t want to be on it anymore.” He sighed. “I deleted a lot of my social media after that, and if I didn’t, I put it all on private.” You nodded. “I’m sorry I never tried to get in contact with you. By the time everything got settled with that, it had been months and I was just mentally exhausted and-.”

“That’s okay.” You said quickly. “It sounds like you went through a lot, I’m sorry I just assumed you didn’t want to speak to me anymore.”

“What? No, no. I wanted to talk to you again, but I lost almost everyone’s contact with my new phone. Jimin had said he hadn’t spoken to you in months when he and I met up…” Taehyung sighed. “Maybe I should have made more of an effort. I couldn’t stop thinking on the train what had happened that had you screaming and crying on the platform. Did you miss me that much?” A smile broke out on your face once again. “Or did you just realize for good that your art teacher was gone?”

“…Both.” You said simply, your thumb gliding along the rim of your cup. You could hear Taehyung chuckle. “But, I’m glad to have that all cleared up a bit more.”

“Me too. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to call you. By the time I had some idea how, I figured it was too late, and it would just be unnecessary.”

“Yeah, I thought you had moved on after Jimin told me you had started school and were doing well. It didn’t feel right to pop up out of nowhere like that, so I figured everything happened for a reason, you know?” Taehyung nodded.

“With that same reasoning, maybe that’s why we ran into each other today,” Taehyung said simply.

“I agree.” You said happily. “I’m happy we did.” Taehyung nodded.

“Just so you know…” Taehyung began adding. “Jimin told me what happened the night I left.” You were silent when he told you that, a smile still on your lips, but a hint of sadness behind it. “About the miscommunication and the train and everything with me and Namjoon.” Taehyung let out a frustrated sigh. “I felt like such an idiot when he told me.”

“You’re not an idiot.” You tried to assure quickly.

“No, I am. If I had just shut up and listened to you for more than just ten seconds, you could have cleared everything up right then and there. Then, you would not have had to make such a fool of yourself on the train platform.” You felt a tinge of shame in that last comment and had to force a shy chuckle.

“Thanks for boosting my confidence, Taehyung…” you said playfully. Taehyung said nothing, as he continued to look at you. You glanced up at those intense, dark eyes, and couldn’t help but gulp. His gaze was piercing right through you, and you weren’t sure what to say. Before you could make a decision, Taehyung spoke up once again.

“I wanted to hear you say it…” he said softly. Your cheeks heated up.

“W-what do you mean?” you asked curiously, flustered as you gripped your mug tightly, grounding you to reality while your body, mind, and soul went on in three different directions.

“Jimin told me the truth of how you felt, and what you were trying to say to me…I wanted to hear you say it more than anything once I knew.”

“…Tae-.”

“You don’t have to.” He added quickly. “Not now. Not ever, if that’s what you’ve decided. It’s been a year-.”

“18 months…” you said, practically a whisper. Taehyung nodded.

“Right.” He said softly. “I just wish I had heard it when I was supposed to.”

“…I know.” That was all you could manage to say.

A part of him really wanted to stay here with you, despite everything.

No, there was so much more you wanted to say to him, so many more questions that needed answers. Taehyung finished his cup of coffee and looked at you, smiling sweetly.

“Are you done? Do you want to head back?” He asked. You glanced down at your cup, seeing it was practically empty, done if you took one more sip. You must have taken too long to answer, because Taehyung reached out and took your hand, making you look back up at him. “Are you okay?”

“Would it have made a difference?” you asked curiously, gripping his hand. “Not that I wanted to hold you back but…if you knew how I really felt, would it have made any kind of a difference?” Taehyung was silent for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek as if he had a piece of gum. You looked down at your hands, still interlocked.

“If I knew then that you had intentions of choosing me rather than rejecting me, I would have tried to set my classes up so I could come back down on weekends and see you.” He squeezed your hands. “It would have made a world of difference.”

Those words hit you like a ton of bricks. You felt something tough bubbling in your throat, and you had to swallow it down with the last sip of your coffee. When you set the empty cup down, your eyes must have been red or watering. “Jimin said something like that…” you said softly.

“Hey, wait, don’t cry,” Taehyung said, lifting a hand to wipe your eyes. His hand lingered on your cheek for a moment, and you were quick to rub your eyes frantically with the palm of your hands. “As I said, I’m sorry you thought otherwise because I have an IQ lower than what your students can count to.” Once again, you had to laugh, this time a more cheerful and hearty laugh as any tears that began to form was dried up and wiped away. Taehyung pulled back from you, smiling softly as he rose from the table. “Let’s go. I don’t want your mother or sister to think you’ve abandoned them on your vacation.”

“I told them I was coming back to see you. Bong-Cha probably thinks I’ll be away all night.” Taehyung laughed a bit as the both of you walked out. Taehyung held the door open for you, as he did, and you happily slipped back out onto the street. “Thank you for the coffee, Taehyung. I’m glad we had this time to catch up on everything.”

“Me too…” he said simply. As the crowds began to increase and people were walking from both directions, you felt Taehyung’s hand on the small of your back. This time, however, you felt no sense of goosebumps or chills. Instead, you felt safe and calm. “Hey.” He said. “I forgot to tip the guy who made our drinks. Head back to the stand, I’ll meet you there, okay? I need to run to the bathroom anyway, I’m sure I’ll have to cover for Chaeyoung when I get back.”

“Oh…okay.” You said softly. Watching Taehyung spin on his heel, he hurried back inside, the door closing behind him. Scanning the area, you tried to remember exactly how far the stands were. Looking through a few people passing by, you saw a familiar head of black hair. Chaeyoung was in view, leaning back in her seat as she taped away on her phone. She looked like whatever she was doing, she was having the time of her life. You hurried over. Chaeyoung noticed you approaching, and smiled.

“Ahh, Unnie. How was the coffee?”

“It was nice.” You smiled sweetly. “I’m sorry if we took too long.”

“Psh, to catch up a whole year? No worries, it’s okay.” You saw Chaeyoung look at where Taehyung’s paintings lied. You noticed a few new ones were put up to fill space, most likely from Chaeyoung selling some of her works. “So, it’s been a whole year since you two saw one another?”

“Even more than that.” You said simply. “So yeah, we had a lot to catch up on.”

“I’m sure. Taehyung-Oppa never stops talking about you.” You glanced back up at her as she smiled. She motioned to some of his works. “He said how much you inspired him to paint while the two of you worked together. He showed me the stuff he made. The commission he did for the CEO of the school and his wife? I had no idea it was inspired by you until he showed me the original.” You felt a sense of pride wash over you, smiling softly as you nodded. “He still keeps painting you. I thought you two were dating until today.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “N-no, no. We’re not.”

“He told me a lot about you,” Chaeyoung repeated. “I feel like I already know you in some ways. You’re a teacher, right?” You nodded.

“Yeah.”

“That’s so fun. If I got to teach, it’d be high school art.” She said simply. “But what I really want to do is be a tattoo artist. A famous one, like one of those people on social media that get tons of clients, even celebrities. That would be cool.” Chaeyoung motioned to the paintings she had set out of Taehyung’s. Upon closer inspection, you got a sense of nostalgia looking them over. Pastel colors around a picture of a woman from the shoulders down, wearing a familiar apron and high heel shoes. Another picture showed a serene lake, with what looked like a small woman sitting in the distance, knees pulled up, and an empty canvas by her side. You continued to scan all of the paintings, smiling. “You really are his muse, Unnie…”

“Heh…That makes me happy.” You admitted. As you held one of the pictures, you heard a voice in the distance that made you turned your head.

“Chaeyoung!” Taehyung called, making the younger girl look over with you. “Did you sell anything?”

“Nah.” She sighed. “None of your stuff, anyway.”

“A shame, because I was going to bump your commission percent to 20 because I took too long. Nevermiiiind.” Chaeyoung gasped as Taehyung laughed a bit at the girl’s wide eyes. You couldn’t help but snicker a bit. “Do you need to take some kind of a water break or anything, Chae? I’ll switch with you.”

Chaeyoung watched as you continued looking back down at the paintings, and grinned. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be back.” Taehyung watched as Chaeyoung scooped her bag up, walking away from the table and back into the crowd. Taehyung turned to you once again, walking over.

“I guess you never really changed your style, hm?” you asked curiously, glancing up at Taehyung as he stood beside you. The man only shrugged.

“Nah. Once a good artist gets his inspiration, his muse, he can keep it forever, even if there’s far apart.”

“…Is that a quote or something?” you asked curiously. Taehyung laughed a bit.

“No, not at all. Probably read some of it off of a bad fortune cookie or something.” He grinned, as you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. Taehyung, who could have sat down in his chair at any moment to continue this conversation, remaining right at your side as he explained each painting, when he made it, and what exactly inspired it. You listened intensely, eyes sparkling at every new painting he showed you.

“I missed so much.” You said in awe. Taehyung nodded. “But you have improved at this school. And that’s saying something, you were already really good.”

“Flattery is not needed, I already paid for the coffee.” He teased.

“I’m serious.” You turned to him as he snickered a bit. As you stared at him, you thought back to what he said in the coffee shop.

I wanted to hear you say it.

It would have made a world of difference.

“…You really would have made so many sacrifices just to be with me?” you asked curiously, so softly that Taehyung might not have even heard you.

“I wouldn’t have considered it a sacrifice,” Taehyung said simply, looking down at you. “Not at all. Just to hear you tell me how you feel would have made me happy.” You bit your lip, nodding your head as you listened to him. You had no intention of pulling away, no intention of stopping this intense feeling in your chest. “Felt.”

“Feel.” You quickly corrected. Taehyung blinked. “How I feel.”

“…Ah….” He hummed. “And…how exactly do you feel?” You glanced over at his paintings, staring at them for a moment before turning your gaze back over to him. He waited with bated breath, silent yet hopeful.

“Taehyung, I love you…” you said softly. “I have, and I will and I wish I said it then because-.” Before you could finish, Taehyung quickly leaned down, planting a kiss on your lips. His hands found their way up to your cheeks, clasping them lovingly. You wasted no time for once, kissing him back as your hands found themselves holding onto his arms, moving up to wrap around the palms of his hands not covered by your cheeks and chin. The kiss was short, but it was full of passion, and as Taehyung pulled away from the kiss, he made sure to keep a close distance from you. Your cheeks were red, ears hot as you looked down at your feet. Taehyung couldn’t help but snicker, as he leaned in to plant a gentle and loving kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah, that was exactly what I wanted. Even better, I think.” You giggled a bit. “I love you too…” Hearing him say that made your entire stomach do a flip in the air, and you smiled, finally pulling back enough to give you some space to breathe. Just in time, too, because the sound of Chaeyoung approaching the table caused Taehyung to stand straight up, hands in his pockets.

“Anything happen while I was gone?” Chaeyoung asked, sitting back down. “Did anything sell?”

“Oh no,” Taehyung said simply. “Nobody came by.” Chaeyoung nodded, leaning back in her seat. You could see a mischievous gleam in her eye as he pulled her phone out.

Taehyung returned to his seat as well, watching as you looked at your phone for the time. Immediately, you took Taehyung’s hand, making him turn to you.

“Will you be in Itaewon for a while?” you asked.

“I’m here until Monday morning.” He smiled. You nodded.

“I need to go so my family doesn’t worry or anything but…you should finally give me your new number.” Taehyung laughed a bit. “I want to see you again…”

“Of course.” Taehyung pulled out his phone, the both of you quickly exchanging numbers. You slipped your phone back into your purse and hummed in satisfaction. “I’m glad that’s settled.”

“Right.” You cooed. “I’ll…call you, okay?” Taehyung nodded. Before you turned away, you stepped closer to him, standing on your tiptoes and making sure to give Taehyung a kiss right on the corner of his mouth. You could see his cheeks starting to grow hot, and all he could do was laugh shyly. A small smile crept onto your face. “I’ll call you later.” You repeated.

“Right. Bye.” Taehyung waved. You turned to Chaeyoung, both of you exchanging goodbyes before you headed down the path. Taehyung watched as you walked, staring at you until you eventually disappeared into a crowd of people.

“Something fun definitely happened while I was away.” Chaeyoung teased, a grin on her face. Taehyung nodded, plopping himself down on his chair. He skimmed through old photos, leading back to a year ago. A picture of you, Hoseok, and Taehyung was seen on Taehyung’s last day, the day of his party. Taehyung was opening gifts from the students that you were bombarding him with, Hoseok cracking up as he sat covered in wrapping paper. He could see the beaming smile on your face, even though it was only a side profile, and it made his heart flutter. His eyes wandered back to where he had just seen you walk off.

Taehyung never thought he would be able to get a scholarship through opportunities provided by that school and his friends. He never thought he would watch as his inspiration blossomed from his mind under the roof of a small building with colorful walls and a few small classrooms inside of it. He never thought in life he would dedicate some of his happiest and meaningful memories to his time spent as an art teacher at Bright Star Preschool. However, inspiration comes from anywhere, no matter how big or how small the moments may seem. Taehyung has spent his life crafting the most perfect artwork in his mind, each memory a new splash of paint on his blank canvas.

As he watched you walk away, he couldn’t help but think how much more beautiful that painting was going to become with you, now adding your own colorful flare onto the canvas as well, your own palette of emotions mixing with his in order to create something truly beautiful.

The End 🖼

Return to Masterlist

Next / Previous / Beginning

#bts #bts fanfiction #reader insert #bts x reader #kim namjoon #namjoon #rm #kim seokjin #seokjin #jin #min yoongi #yoongi suga #jung hoseok #hoseok #jhope #park jimin #jimin #kim taehyung #taehyung #v #jeon jungkook #jungkook #taehyung x reader #v x reader #A palette of emotions ff

[jasminevolkan]

TIME IN A BOTTLE — self paragraph 001,

& character development TASK #5.

warnings: abandonment issues, divorce, abuse/neglect, death and illness, mentions of christmas, food and alcohol, curse words, jasmine having courage?

JANUARY 1ST 2021, 11:27 am.

Wishes of joy, success and health ended the traditional New Year’s brunch at the Volkan’s residence. Usually, the duo would make this celebration last all day long, but Jasmine had other plans. Instead, she put the leftovers in containers and headed for the exit. She kissed her mother on both cheeks and wrapped her in a tight hug. She earned a pat on the back as a notification she was squeezing her mother’s body too tightly. “Don’t want to let you go,” Jasmine whispered those words like an automatic response. “I’m not going anywhere,” Lana would reply.

They were creature of habits, an inseparable pair. They resembled Russian nestling dolls, there was never one without the other. As years went by, Jasmine grew more and more conscious of the inevitable. She was a star following the moon in a dark night sky, but one day the moon would be swallowed in the void and leave the burning dust nothing but an endless pain, deeper than a black hole. She was no stranger to grief, it did not mean she appreciated the experience. They discussed it often, a little too often to Lana’s liking. Her daughter was so fearless, yet she feared everything in her surroundings. She wished she could fly on her own, but she respected Jas’ desire to circle close to the nest.

They were creature of habits, an inseparable pair. They gifted each other the same thing for Christmas — a holiday they celebrated by choice — however they waited for the first day of the year to open them. Chocolate, candles and promises to spend time together in the future. They made plans to build sandcastles together on a rare calm spot of the beach, where Lana claimed there was a palm tree as old as her daughter. They remembered good and bad events that came out of the previous twelve months.

Usually, they would involve unfortunate recipes or complicated art projects that never came to life. More often than not, they would share a knowing look. The worst that came out of anything was Jasmine’s father. His presence (or lack thereof) impacted them on a daily basis, still. It left a whole in their lives, otherwise complete and satisfying. It fed into Jasmine’s insecurities, it encouraged Lana to relive the constant pain she was in while trying to comfort her daughter. Children to grow old in love and affection. No matter how much love Lana provided, it never seemed to be enough for her daughter.

Love and attention were the same thing as food, for Jasmine. She always craved for more and was afraid she would never get enough.

She walked out of her childhood home and crossed the lawn over to her house. Hidden by the mass of leftovers she carried expertly, she did not notice the box that blocked the door until she bumped her foot against it. She tried to scoot around the obstacle, in vain.

The breeze blew stronger, whipping locks of chocolate brown hair on her face. It sent a wave of goosebumps down her spine. She leaned down to open the box, pulling out stuffed animals, birthday cards and other items she remembered seeing in stores but never having the courage to buy it. Expensive paint brushes and other supplies, sets of gold earrings that sparkled under the sun; the list went on. She picked up a pink bunny, it seemed old and resembled one she had in her oldest memories but could never find again.

Jasmine looked up from the objects, the bunny squeezed tightly against her chest. She frowned and looked around, her mother was not on the porch, the other neighbours were probably asleep or gone. Avalon seemed very quiet, almost surreal.

Surreal like the shadow she noticed standing at the corner of the street. Her eyes squinted and blinked, but they seemed to have washed away the familiar silhouette. Somehow, the bunny felt like it radiated a comfortable warmth. She read the message that was left on the box, the handwriting was printed in her memory.

“I love you. I am sorry it took me your whole lifetime to realize it. Signed, “

The end of the message was scribbled in a whirlwind of blue ink. She had to focus really hard to recognize the three letters. Contrary to the presents or the mysterious figure, the word resonated no familiarity.

“Dad.”

FEBRUARY 14TH 2021, 3:02 AM.

Jasmine kept this a secret, the box and the message. She tried to play it cool, like it did not affect her that her father was trying to build the bridge he destroyed when he left for New York City. She hated New York. She hated bridges. She hated him.

No.

She loved him.

She pulled out a pink gel pen from this same pencil case she carried since high school, it had little doodles and messages written at the back from her friends. She ripped a sheet away from her binder that she used for ideas at work. And she improvised. It usually felt so natural for her, to cross boundaries and to do as she pleased. This time, it was painful and almost impossible to do.

“I loved it when you took me for a drive around the island on nights where I couldn’t sleep. I loved it when you brought me to the candy store after forgetting to pick me up from daycare because you were busy. I loved it when you read stories to me during rainy days so I would be quiet and fall asleep. I loved it when you gave me seashells from all of your work trips, even if they looked identical to those on the beaches down the street. I loved it when you took me to the park and pushed me on the swings just long enough before you got a phone call. I loved it when you wrote notes in my lunch boxes on school days, I saved them all in a bottle of bourbon you left on my night stand that one time you came home as the sun was rising.

I loved it when you acted like a father, even if it was just for a split second.

I love receiving magazines and seeing your name on the front page, congratulating you for all the listings you manage to sell. I love staring at the pages of photos and noticing that I look just like you. I love thinking of new ways to improve myself, because that’s what you would have wanted to. I love thinking you might come back here one day and we can make up for all the time we wasted loathing each other. I love thinking one day we might have a family portrait identical to the one you had in your office of your wife and kids. I love thinking that one day you’ll have one of me with them and hang it on your wall at home. I love thinking that one day, I will get to call you Dad.

I forgive you. I forgive you for leaving mom alone with me. I forgive you for hurting me so much I might just never heal. I forgive you for finding your happiness elsewhere. I forgive you for failing as a father. I forgive you for learning how to do better with your other children. I forgive you for leaving the life you never wanted. I forgive you for having dreams that were larger than what we could give you. I forgive you for breaking the promises you told me of this life where we would be a happy family.

I love you,”

The old pen was running out of ink, so she shook it vividly. She did not bother wiping her tears away, not the stain of pink on her hand that was tinting the paper. She added this short word she had blocked out of her memory all this time. It was just a nickname for all, but for her. She remembered the tone of his voice whenever he said this word, it was calm and posed, loving and caring. He said it rarely, but she could still hear it so clearly.

“Jojo.”

FEBRUARY 14TH 2021, 11:58 PM.

She scrunched the sheets of paper into a ball and threw it on the floor, missing the trash can by two feet at least. She then moved to the couch, grabbing her laptop from the coffee table and logged on her email. Her fingers floated above the keyboard until the screen turned darker. She was looking up to the clock on the wall, watching the seconds fly by.

She took a deep breath, hoping it would slow down time. It had the opposite effect, feeding into this adrenaline rush she desperately tried to repress since the beginning of the year.

She loved him. She never stopped, never will. It would not change. Something needed to change, however, and it was her unhealthy habit of being silent when she needed to speak out the most.

TO: Aleksander Volkan ([email protected])

FROM: Jasmine Volkan ([email protected])

SUBJECT: Receipts and birthday cards

Fuck you. <3

Minnie pressed the button, and sent the email. She shut her laptop close and ran to the abandoned paper on the floor. She unfolded it and held against her chest, disappearing into a room in the search for an envelope.

She was too far to hear the immediate sound of a response.

TO: Jasmine

FROM: Aleksander

SUBJECT:

I love you too.

#self paras. #about. #abuse tw #abandonment tw #death tw #food tw #(( 'love letter' it's not even a letter ~ jas never follows rules that's canon )) #(( the sweater/cardigan and now the letter/email? a true REBEL )) #catalina: task #catalina: love letters #tasks.

[bush-viper-cutie]

“Final Exams Week” || YEAR 3 – Ch.33 (HP au)

                              Chapter List

<-- Last Chapter                          Next Chapter -->

Day posted: 12/4/2020

Word count: 3, 416

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

-----

A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

-----

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

Heather ran her tongue against her front teeth and squinted at the words on the page. The sun was shining down on her stolen potions book and no matter how she moved her head to block it, the glossy ink kept blinding her. She sighed and let her head fall back against the rough bark of the tree she was leaning on.

“Angelina said she’d work all summer to afford a firebolt – ”

“The team would be unstoppable then!”

Heather quickly stuffed the potions book in her bag and stood to face Harry and Ron as they approached. “Won’t you act the least bit disappointed you lost the Quidditch Cup? For me? Just for show.”

Ron nearly tripped and slid down the small hill in his attempt to suppress a laugh. “Just face it Heather. You saw how fast Harry was. Next year Gryffindor will win every match, the Quidditch Cup, and the House Cup. And the year after that, and the one after that. There’s no stopping the firebolt!”

“As if.”

“Catch!” Harry tossed a can of iced pumpkin juice at her. “We’ll get you a firebolt over the summer and then maybe Slytherin might be able to keep up.”

Heather caught it and dropped back onto her spot facing the lake. “You know we can’t afford it. And since we can’t, I think a week of gloating is quite enough from you two. You’ve only won a measly match.”

“Says the losing team,” Ron laughed.

Harry and Ron sat beside her and took out their textbooks.

“I can’t believe it’s almost June.” Harry flipped through the pages of his textbook lazily.

“How’re we supposed to study for our exams with all this homework?” Ron turned the pages one by one while staring at the giant squid as it propelled itself out of the water, twirled, and splashed back down.

Tiny waves crashed on the lake shore as laughter could be heard from the other students basking in the sun on the grassy castle grounds.

Heather picked at the can of ice cold pumpkin juice with her nail, wedged it underneath the tab, and plucked it up hearing the tantalizing fizz. She smiled and pressed the opening to her lips.

“WHAT are you three doing!”

Ron, Harry, and Heather screamed as Hermione came out from behind their tree.

“You should be studying for exams!” Hermione handed them each a paper with their study schedules along with their exam times.

Harry waved his textbook in her face. “We’re already doing that.”

Hermione pushed the book away and placed a single hand on her hip. “Not out here. There’s too much distraction.” She dragged the three of them into the castle and forced them to sit down in the much quieter Great Hall during study hour. “Now you can ask the Professors any questions you have.”

Heather, Harry, and Ron grumbled as the summer air blew through the doors.

Heather glanced at Hermione’s exam times and frowned.

‘Monday:

9 o’clock, Arithmancy

9 o’clock Transfigurations

Lunch

1 o’clock, Charms

5 o’clock, Care of MC

11 o’clock, Astronomy

Wednesday:

10 o’clock, Herbology

Lunch

1 o’clock, Defense Against DA

1 o’clock, Ancient Runes

3 o’clock, History of Magic

5 o’clock, Potions

5 o’clock, Muggle Studies’

“Hermione. I don’t think Snape will let you leave early to take your Muggle Studies exam or arrive late from it.” Heather watched Hermione stuff the paper in her bag and push her hair behind her ears.

“Of course not. That’s silly.”

Ron pulled a face. “Then you’ve copied the times wrong.”

“No.” Hermione snapped. “And might I remind you, you’ve got two essays due tomorrow. Now… I NEED to study so no more interruptions – Where’s my copy of ‘Numerology and Grammatica’? Have you seen it?”

“Yeah, I used it for a bit of bedtime reading last night,” Ron mumbled.

Heather pulled the book out from under a stack of five and slid it roughly across the table to her. How could Hermione not trust them? After everything they’d been through? What. Was she afraid of spilling her punctuality secrets?

Hedwig flew down and landed on the large stack of books besides Heather. She pulled the letter out of her beak and handed it to Harry to read while she smoothed down Hedwig’s fluffy white feathers.

“From Hagrid.” He turned the note over and flipped it open. “Buckbeak’s appeal… Its set for the sixth of June. That’s next month…”

“That’s the last day of exams,” Hermione said from behind her book.

“Well they’re coming up to the school for it with a Ministry official… and an executioner.”

Hermione gasped.

Ron took the note out of Harry’s hand and turned it around to read for himself. “That’s not bloody fair!”

“Mr. Weasley!” Professor McGonagall gave them menacing eyes from the High Table.

“It doesn’t sound like they’ll be very willing to hear Hagrid out.” Heather gripped her quill tight and poked holes into her parchment. “Not fair at all. Poor Buckbeak.”

“It’s Malfoy’s fault.” Harry looked around for him, ready to stare daggers.

“Yeah, and I’ve got a stack of handwritten Hippogriff research scrolls to shove down his throat. Where is he?” Ron stood, searching with Harry for their target.

“Do not make things worse with him,” Heather warned.

Although she managed to settle them down to study that day, she could not help the growing hostility between them for the next several days. However subdued Draco had been after the Slytherin Gryffindor match loss was all in the past now. Draco had regained his confidence after hearing from his father about Buckbeak’s scheduled beheading, thinking it was all thanks to him, and was now parading around the castle with Lockhart’s same pompous attitude.

After his daily dose of bragging, gloating, and boasting he took extra time from his busy schedule to sneer at them from afar, whisper rude comments about it in the corridors, and even pass taunting notes to Harry and Ron during classes.

‘Ignore him’ was all Heather and Hermione were saying until exam week began, and an unusual silence fell upon the castle. Even Percy was going around shushing anyone who disturbed the quiet of the corridors.

“People are studying!” he hissed at a group of second years before going back to soundlessly reciting charms and spells on his way up to the Gryffindor common room.

“He’s almost as bad as Hermione,” Ron noted, turning around to watch Hermione bump into student after student from behind a leather-bound book so large it hid even her bushy hair.

Harry eyed Heather as she doodled in her art journal as they walked. “How are you managing to not have a mental collapse like them?”

Heather scoffed. “For the same reason the Slytherins and Ravenclaws never worry over exams. Slytherins are always studying and Ravenclaws are always OVER studying – It’s not impressive they could pass next year’s exams, it’s annoying. They should stop bragging.”

They sat all of Monday’s exams and by late dinner the whole school was spent and puffy eyed. Heather sat with Pansy and her friends who were all talking about the tasks for Transfigurations, particularly the one that involved turning a brick into a crow.

“Yours looked like a raven.”

“Did you see Cindy’s magpie?”

“I heard Neville’s was still red – ”

“I heard Neville’s was still a brick.”

Heather rolled her eyes and turned away. Almost everyone at the table was bragging about their results, which would be fine if she wasn’t a little insecure about her transfiguration and charm skills. As much as she tried, Hermione was always better and got the spells faster than Heather did. The only reason she wasn’t more worried about her skills on those subjects were mostly due to Ron and Harry and their consistently horrible attempts.

Draco turned to Heather and smiled. “Know what I Saw in the crystal ball?”

“Was it Hermione smacking you again?”

He frowned and stabbed his fork into his potato salad. “No. That pigeons head rolling around those pumpkins. Got perfect marks for that too.”

“That’s funny. I saw YOUR head rolling around the boy’s urinals. Perfect marks on that prediction as well.”

Draco set down his fork and slid his wand out of his sleeve and pointed it at her, hidden from view of the High Table. “Is that a threat, Potter?”

Heather scoffed and leaned forward. “It is if you don’t stop talking about murdering that poor creature.”

He laughed and nudged Goyle beside him. “Hear that? She thinks she can take me.”

Heather had better things to do than sit around the table entertaining Draco and the two goons beside him. She still had Astronomy to study for and got up to join the several other students who were gathering at the astronomy tower to go over star charts and planet paths.

The test was on the last century only and as much as she hated when Harry cheated, even she knew he’d need her answers to pass. What star constellation was visible during the mountain troll attack of Hogsmeade in 1901? What planetary alignment led to the invention of self-tying brogues? The easiest part was the final question which asked what the current visible stars, constellations, and planets were.

After the test Professor Sinistra collected their telescopes and let them hang around for a few minutes while she put them away.

Ron’s hair danced in the wind as he leaned over the stone half-wall and squinted through the darkness at the grounds. “Er… Harry? Did YOU remember to put our Salamander away after the exam?”

Harry pulled him back and leaned over the wall, holding his glasses securely to his face as he looked down. “I’m sure Hagrid will notice the small fire…”

Heather looked down and saw tiny flames growing in the bushes on the outskirt of the forbidden forest. “Is there ever a year where you two WON’T damage the school in some way?”

“What did we do first year?” Harry pulled them back and together headed down the tower stairs.

If they still had their invisibility cloak Heather would have suggested going down to tell Hagrid about it and also taken the opportunity to check in on him – which they hadn’t been able to do for several weeks due to the strict rules on Harry and her because of Sirius Black. The strict rules wouldn’t be much of a problem, except the cloak was still down in the one-eyed witch’s tunnel which was under constant guard of Snape, Filch, and Mrs. Norris after their last talk and Heather’s outburst in Snape’s office.

She didn’t think there was anyone as naturally suspicious and distrustful as Snape was. The way he could smell out trouble and deceit and stay on his intuition was impressive in some ways and just downright annoying now that she disliked him.

The next day was spent studying for Wednesday’s exams in the common room during the morning – since Harry and Ron had stayed up late and were fast asleep during valuable studying hours – and the library and study hall in the afternoon with Hermione as frantic as ever.

“Oh! Why is there so much to know!” Hermione gathered all her notes and pulled at her hair. “I-I’m going to go splash water on my face.” She stood with a thick pile of notes in her hand and walked away from their table towards the large Great Hall doors.

Heather bit her lip and ran to catch up to her. “I’ll go with you. I could quiz you with those notes while you dunked your whole face in water if you wanted.”

Hermione stopped her and shook her head. “Oh, no, that’s alright Heather.” She stood waiting for Heather to turn around and march back to Harry and Ron.

“I don’t mind.” Heather crossed her arms.

Hermione nodded slowly and handed her the stack of notes. “Wonderful.” She walked out of the Great Hall and down the corridor towards the girl’s bathroom.

Heather looked through the notes and found the ones for Ancient Runes. “What’s – er – the symbol with the bug and two lines mean?”

“Too easy. It’s the letter ‘B’. Give me actual sentences.” Hermione turned the cold water on and ran her hands under.

“Hermione. How are you going to take this exam at the same time as Defense Against Dark Arts? In fact, how have you been attending this class at all?” Heather stared at Hermione reflection and watched her look around the sink.

She frowned and turned off the running water. “I – well – You’re supposed to be quizzing me. I have six exams tomorrow – ”

“You’re keeping a secret. I know it Hermione. I can understand why you wouldn’t tell Harry and Ron… but me? Last year you got upset that – ”

“Yes I know! But… I’m sorry, I’m just not allowed to tell. I swore I wouldn’t.” Hermione took back her notes and looked down at her shoes. “You can go back. I’m staying here for a minute.”

Heather clenched her jaw and ignored the tightness in her chest that made her want to tear up. Before she had friends she’d always found it easy to hold back tears. Now it was hard to not show her emotions around them, even when she was hurt and sad. “Just tell me. Please? You’ve hardly been around while somehow being around and if it’s because of this secret so why not just let me know? We’re best friends.”

Hermione looked up with watery eyes. “Then why don’t you share your secret first?”

Heather looked around at the dirty tiled floor and up at the streaky mirror. Should she come clean about the raskovnik growing in her charmed pot? She’d have to explain then about the stolen library books as well…

“I know you and Draco hung out over the summer. You went to his house. I overheard it.” Hermione wiped at her eyes and huffed. “He’s always using the word mudblood, always fighting with Ron and Harry, and now he’ll be responsible for Buckbeak’s death… and you’re friends with him. Harry doesn’t even know you’ve been INSIDE his house.”

“It was only a few days! I swear! I hated it there but I NEEDED to. You don’t understand how it is in Slytherin. Flint doesn’t even want me on the team for being a girl. I have to keep up the drills and beat all those stupid boys who are all so much stronger than me! I don’t even know what I’ll do next year if Flint doesn’t get held back again and some other idiot becomes team captain.” Heather pressed her palms to her eyes and sniffed. “I have to prove I’m not weak because I’m a girl. I have to prove I’m not weak because I’m a half-blood. I have to prove I’m not a house traitor because of Harry.” Heather wiped her nose on her sweater sleeve and sighed. “I don’t get to relax comfortably in a house that just accepts me… Everyone’s always watching me, waiting to see me trip up and prove them all right… And then I’m stuck all summer in a house that forbids magic? I’m sorry Hermione… please understand? I know how horrible he is to us. But I needed his help.”

“I… do. I’m sorry I know it must be hard not being in Gryffindor with us. But who cares what they think? They’re all just a bunch of blood-purists. You have us aleways. And we don’t judge you or anyone else like that.” Hermione hugged her and pulled away.

Heather nodded and wiped the few tears that had escaped. She was relieved Hermione forgave her. Maybe if Harry found out, would he too? Although it might be harder after Buckbeak’s appeal depending on the outcome. “What’s your secret then?”

Hermione sighed and hugged her arms. “I really can’t say… yet… Look, I swear I’ll tell you on the train. But you can’t tell Harry or Ron… ESPECIALLY not Ron. He could mess up the whole world and even worse, get me expelled.”

Heather nodded and they sealed the deal with a hand shake. She walked back into the Great Hall and a minute later Hermione followed and was back to her usual frantic self.

The next morning was the Herbology exam which had them out in the sun baking to crisps in the greenhouses. Defense Against the Dark Arts exam was after lunch and Professor Lupin had made them some sort of obstacle course outside.

“Oh no…” Heather’s eyes swept across the transformed grounds closest to the lake at the small pool labeled ‘Grindylows’, the field of potholes labeled ‘Red Caps’, and the patch of marsh labeled ‘Hinkypunks’.

“The end of the exam is hidden. Full marks to those who come out the right tree.” Professor Lupin smiled and signaled the start of the exam.

They waded through the pool – holding their socks and shoes in one hand and their wands in the other – then jumped over the Red caps, squished through the marsh while Hinkypunks shouted misleading directions, and headed into the trees. Heather stayed on the marked path and tried to figure out the correct tree. There was a large tree the width of Hagrid’s shack with a large hole carved out the side. It looked hungry, with its gaping mouth showing the darkness that would engulf anyone who entered.

Harry was the first to crawl in with Hermione, Heather, and Ron following in right after. With wands up they fought the new boggart that was shoved into a hollowed branch. For her turn, Heather swallowed as it slithered out from its hole in the darkness and dropped to the ground just beyond the light of her wand.

“Riddikulus!” Heather shouted, before it could manifest into anything. A bouncing red and gold ball rolled into the light. She shot a simple spell at it and it shot back into its hole, wedging in tight.

Almost everyone had received full marks, except poor Neville who had to face his grandmother telling him Snape would be his new grandfather. He was so shaken up several students had to help walk him up to their next exam, History of Magic.

Heather was fairly certain she’d passed all her exams so far, and was now worried about potions.

“After this we’re free!” Ron skipped down the corridor. “The last exam of the year!”

Heather could still hear herself shouting at Snape to shut up and the look of pure rage on his face. She was going to fail. She knew it. He hadn’t even given her detention for that – nothing. He was waiting for this exam to get back at her and Harry.

“We’re going to fail this one.” Heather shook Harry’s arm as they walked down the dungeon stairs. “He’s going to give us low marks out of vengeance!”

Harry pushed her away. “What’s new?”

“He’s never done that to me! You, I understand, but I always get high grades! Second to Malfoy – ”

Hermione huffed. “I thought you were second to me.”

They took their seats near the back of the classroom.

“No… Second to Malfoy but I’d be first if he’d just let me ‘study’ with him – ”

“Silence.” Professor Snape stood from his desk and began explaining the exam.

They were afforded two whole hours to brew a Confusing Concoction which turned into the biggest, messiest disaster Heather had yet seen. Cauldrons were erupting with goo, over spilling with sticky liquid, or hardening into chunks that melted out the cauldron bottoms.

It took Heather almost the full two hours to complete the potion and in the end she wasn’t sure if it was supposed to look like yellow cake batter in there. Snape peered in and grinned before marking his notes and tisking vindictively. He then stepped over to Harry’s cauldron and waited as Harry desperately tried to thicken his up enough. Snape stood tapping his notes with his fingers and the second the bells tolled, scribbled something suspiciously like a zero and walked away.

They left the dungeons feeling empty and relieved that everything was over. Heather and Hermione were starting to poke fun at Ron and Harry’s attempts when their attention was caught by the two men waiting at the bottom of the Entrance Hall stairs.

Cornelius Fudge and a black-hooded man with a large blade stood looking at all the students as they ran to the Great Hall for late dinner.

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

                          Chapter List

<-- Last chapter                       Next chapter -->

-----

@lokilover-39

@halcyonrogers

@krazykatkay456

@lady-of-black-roses

@writingmi

@joscelyn02

-----

#harry potter #heather potter #severus snape x oc #severus x oc #snape x oc #severus snape x reader #severus x reader #snape x reader #snape fanfic #pro snape #snape fanfiction #snape fan fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction

[autumnsart22]

Chapter 14: Oikawa x reader

Hey! Sorry for the late update, I’ve had a hectic past few days. We’re getting super close to the end of this fanfic, I love you if you’ve stuck with it this long. I think next week’s chapter is going to be the final one so stay tuned :) 

Oikawa POV:

During class on Monday, I could barely keep my eyes open. Our teacher seemed to lecture for hours, and every minute seemed to take a week. To occupy myself, I simply stared at Y/n. 

It had started when she had first become our manager, when I was trying to get a reading on her and whether or not she would be a good fit for the team. In the end, I just found her a billion times more interesting than anything else. 

With my head resting on my palm, I watched her scribble violently on the page in front of her, her head tilted and forehead scrunched up. It didn’t look like she was taking notes, which meant she was probably drawing. I knew that it was a hobby of hers--she always seemed to have lead stains on her finger tips from smudging--but she rarely let me look at any of her work. What I had seen had blown me away, but she always would get all red and flustered if I tried to ask to see more. 

It seemed that she was having a particularly hard time with the sketch she was doing now, her hand clenched tightly around the pencil in frustration and an annoyed look on her face. I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing as she began cursing under her breath, erasing violently. 

I sighed. How was she so pretty? And what was I going to do? Because being close to her all the time without confessing was looking more and more impossible with every day that went by. 

✨✨✨✨

Y/n POV:

The bell rang and I let out a long breath, closing my notebook and packing away my pencils. I glared one more time at the stupid sketch of Iwaizumi and Oikawa, which just didn’t look right! It was something about Iwa’s nose that was off…Since I was in class, I didn’t want to risk using my phone for a reference picture, but I would fix it later. 

As I got to my feet, Oikawa came over to stand by my desk, hitching his bag on his shoulder. He had taken off his white blazer and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, his red tie a little loose around his neck. 

“God that was so horrendous…” he groaned, running a hand through his hair. I nodded, laughing as he made a face at the teacher. I noticed a few girls glaring at me out of the corner of my eye, but I ignored them. He wasn’t with them right now; he was with me. 

I swung my bag over my shoulder, scooping up my sketchbook and following Oikawa out of the classroom. Iwaizumi met us in the crowded hall, glowering at everyone who passed. When he saw us, he looked vaguely relieved, which instantly melted back into annoyance as we started the journey out of the packed space. 

We were almost to the door when a first year sprinted around a corner, crashing directly into me. I grunted and dropped my sketchbook, papers scattering everywhere. 

“Oh sorry! I’m late to class!” The first year said, not even trying to help me clean up as he took off once again down the hall. 

“Hey!” Iwaizumi yelled, looking ready to chase down the students and make him apologize. 

“It’s fine,” I sighed, patting his arm and leaning down to start scooping up my papers. Iwa and Oikawa moved to help me, and I felt my heart practically stop as I realized what they would see. 

“Wait--!” 

Too late. Both Iwa and Oikawa stared at the pictures scattered on the ground, Oikawa’s mouth slightly open and even Iwa’s eyes a bit wide. 

They were all of Oikawa. 

Ok, maybe not all of them. Some of them were sketches of the whole team, or of Iwaizumi. I had a bunch of all us three, and some just random doodles. But the majority were of Seijoh’s captain, different angles, different styles, color or no color, his hands, his eyes, his hair. Dear god, it was like looking at Oikawa through a many lensed mirror. 

I felt my entire body flush, and I quickly began to snatch up the papers as fast as possible, not caring if they crumpled or tore. 

“Woah, what are you doing? Be careful with them!” Oikawa said, carefully stacking the drawings and handing them to me in a neat stack. His cheeks were tinted pink, but he smiled widely. “Why are you so red, Chibi-chan? These are amazing!”

“Ugh,” I was so embarrassed I could barely speak. “You-it’s not-you’re just easy to draw!” 

Oikawa grinned smugly. “Hear that Iwa-chan? Y/n likes drawing me! Makes sense--I am extremely attractive, after all.” 

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and smacked Oikawa on the back of the head. “Stupid pretty boy,” he grunted. 

My laugh was a bit strained, but I managed to stuff all the papers away before getting to my feet. “Let’s get out of the middle of the hallway.”

As we walked outside, Oikawa turned to me. “Have you ever considered going to art school?” 

I blinked in surprise. I had in fact considered applying to a few, but I knew my parents would never let me go. How did he know that? 

“A bit but...my parents…”

Both Iwa and Oikawa knew how strict my parents were, and how much I was pressured by them. Oikawa looked frustrated, crossing his arms and stopping in the middle of the path, making Iwaizumi and I turn to look at him. 

“What?” I asked. 

“I think you should apply, if that’s what you want to do.” He pointed to the sketchbook I clutched close to my chest. “Those are so good, Y/n. You could really do something with your talent.” 

I bit my lip. “But--”

Oikawa put his finger on my lips, stopping me from speaking. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But think about it, ok? It’s your life, not your parents’.”

Later that day, I sat down on my bed and began to research art schools in Japan. 

✨✨✨✨

“Alright everyone, circle up!” Coach Nobuteru yelled, and the team dropped their volleyballs and headed over to the bench. I tapped my clipboard with my pen, where I had written out comments for each of the players. “Good job today everyone. We have a practice game coming up, so keep up the good work. I’ll let Y/n give you any comments she has about your form.” 

I nodded, smiling. “Everyone has improved so much, I’m so proud of you. I just took a few notes to hopefully help you out.”

I went around and read my comments, which were pretty brief, before letting everyone start cleaning up. 

I began picking up extra volleyballs while the boys changed, rolling up the net and packing up my stuff. My team began filtering out, waving to me as they left. 

“Have a good day!” 

“See you tomorrow!” 

I grinned. “Great job again everyone!” 

Iwaizumi and Oikawa emerged last, and Iwa told us he had to get home to see his mom. Apparently she had started a new treatment where she needed to be in the hospital far more, so he wanted to see her at home when he could. 

I turned to Oikawa, shuffling my feet a little bit. “Um.”

He looked at me curiously. “Yeah?”

“Well I--I don’t know, I was thinking-- I kind of want to um...learn how to serve?” 

Oikawa blinked. “You do?” 

“Yeah, I just. I don’t know, I always give you guys criticism, but I don’t even know how to play. I know I won’t be very good but I just thought…” I trailed off. 

When I glanced up at Oikawa, his eyes were bright and excited. “Oh my god, you’re so cute! I’ll totally teach you how to serve, I’m the best after all.”

I sighed, laughing a little. “Ok then. What do I have to do?”

Oikawa rolled the basket of volleyballs over to the end of the court, showing me how to hold the ball and position myself. 

As I expected, I was absolutely horrendous. I hit the net over and over, or my tosses were too weak to even get close. I cursed violently, but Oikawa thought it was hilarious. He was a good teacher, and obviously an excellent server, but I couldn’t seem to get the hang of it. 

“Don’t worry, it takes a lot of practice. It took me years to get this good.” 

“Ok…” I pouted. 

“Here,” Oikawa wrapped his arms around my waist, adjusting my arms and stance. I shivered, the feeling of his muscles flexing behind me making my heart race. “You throw it like this.” 

He tossed the ball in the air and spiked it hard over the net. I leaned my head back to look at him and smiled. “I think I’ll leave the serving to you.” 

His face was inches away and he gently touched my chin. “Whatever you say, Chibi-chan.” 

We packed up the volleyballs and net, and I locked the door as we headed out. The sky had darkened, and I shivered a little as we headed towards the student parking lot. 

“What are you doing tonight?” I asked, glancing at Oikawa. 

“Ugh, just homework mostly. I have an essay coming up that’s due soon.” 

“God--” 

“Oikawa-san!” A voice called from behind us. “How are you?” 

We both turned, and I clenched my teeth as two pretty girls moved across the grass towards us. I noticed Oikawa grimace before his fake smile was pulled across his face like a mask. 

“Hey! I’m doing good. How are you?” 

One of the girls giggled. “Great. Are you busy tonight?”

I swallowed, turning away without looking at Oikawa. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Oikawa-san.” 

I walked away towards the cars, not looking back. I could hear the girls still talking, but I tugged my beats from around my neck and placed them over my ears to block them out. 

As I unlocked my car, I felt a hand on my arm spinning me around. Oikawa gazed down at me imploringly, tugging my headphones off my ears. 

“Why’d you leave me like that?” He asked, looking betrayed. 

“Huh? I thought you’d want to talk to them.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re so oblivious.” 

I raised my eyebrows. “So you didn’t want to talk to them?”

“No, why would I when I have you?”

I went red, hiding a smile. “Ok then.” 

Chapter 13

Chapter 15

#oikawa tooru #oikawa #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa fic #haikyuu!! #haikyū!! #haikyu x reader #fanfiction #fandom #fanfic #oikawa fluff #fluff

[theartofimaginaryfriends]

Chapter 10 - A Suspect

Fic series: The Final Straw (HP/PJO Crossover)

Premise: Nova oversees the chariot building and has an unpleasant run-in with Pansy.

Masterlist

Taglist: @ilvermornymascot, @lukecastellandeservedbetter, @eva-blog-p

word count: 1,434

A/N: I’ve got like,,, around nine writing projects again which has now resulted in the creation of a schedule. I will hopefully be posting chapters every friday or saturday (and not gonna to lie I thought today was Sunday so I was feeling panicked but we’re good). If I don’t post anything on either day, it literally just means I was unmotivated to write or busy. Either way, it is now 4AM and I’m trying and failing to fix my sleep schedule. Hope y’all enjoy this chapter! I’m super excited for the next one XD

The second week of classes was coming to a close, and Nova's mind was still on the nightmare she had six days prior. Her friends could tell her head was somewhere else, but the only person that brought it up was Cree when the two of them were alone. She spent most of her time zoning out in classes or keeping to herself on the Northern Tower.

During Defence Against the Dark Arts, she was barely paying attention as Hermione and Annabeth answered yet another question, not allowing the rest of the class to participate. The Head Girl doodled in her notebook half the time, barely paying attention when Professor Lieberman asked them to get into groups and discuss amongst themselves for ten minutes. "Nova."

"What?" She looked at Cree and rubbed her arm where he nudged her.

"We're supposed to be discussing how to defeat a manticore by using both magic, and weapons," he explained, not masking the worried look on his face.

"I think it has to be done with at least five people," Annabeth said, leaning against the back of her chair. "Percy, Grover, Thalia, and I had to fight one and we didn't beat it."

"That was when Artemis's Hunters came to camp during winter break that one year, right?" Nova asked, and Annabeth nodded.

"I still get nightmares," she sighed.

"What do you think the best strategy would be?" Frank was curious, having never heard that story before.

"Three wizards and two demigods would do the trick," Annabeth decided, her plans almost always having worked out in the end.

"Three stunning spells at one target, and then the demigods can kill it when it's down," Hermione added, knowing exactly where Annabeth was going with her idea.

"Makes sense," Cree commented, making the girls smile in triumph.

"Times up!" Professor Liberman announced. "Starting with group one, I would like to hear what everyone came up with."

Nova went back to doodling in her notebook as the groups shared their discussion, and didn't pay attention to the rest of the class. She could feel Cree glancing at her continuously throughout the morning, and it didn't stop by the time History of Magic rolled around. During the middle of class, as Professor Trebunskaya droned on about Pukwudgie's and their relationship with wizardkind through the centuries, Nova addressed her friend. "Yes, Cree?"

"Is everything okay, Nova?" he whispered. "You've been out of it before, but it's never this bad."

"Yeah," she lied, but quickly corrected herself after Cree gave her an unbelieving look. "No, I'm not. Never in my life have I been this shaken up after a nightmare, but this time it just feels different."

"Different, how?" he pressed for more information, hoping that it would help his best friend more than anything.

"I don’t know," Nova shrugged. "Maybe it’s because we're one step closer to figuring out the prophecy. Not that we're any closer, but it just feels more real than it should."

"At this point in the year? That's fair," Cree couldn’t help but chuckle, causing the two to be caught. 

"Sorry, Professor!" they chorused. They went back to whispering, grateful to be sitting at the back, and tried to work through where Nova's mind was at.

At the end of class, Nova went straight to the quad to oversee the teams building their chariots. The project had started two days prior, and it was already utter chaos. Not only were some teams not getting along - namely Clarisse and Draco - but the quad was an absolute mess. The Hephaestus kids were the ones most guilty of it, too focused on working to realize they were invading another team's workspace.

Lucas dealt with the messes the most, and Nova was the mediator when a fight occurred. Sometimes, Nova would witness Travis and Ron discussing potential pranks to incorporate but usually ignored them. Today, she let her curiosity get the better of her. "Please tell me it will be harmless."

"I swear on the River Styx I wouldn't add a prank to a chariot if it caused harm to anything or anyone," Travis promised the Head Girl. "You know more than anyone that a harmless prank is the best kind."

"Just make sure it's not one that the judges can consider cheating," she sighed, smiling. "I want you two to compete fairly, like everyone else."

"You got it, boss," Travis joking saluted Nova, and Ron laughed at his new friend's antics. As Nova continued walking around to keep an eye on everyone, she noticed Neville giving Frank an apologetic look, and the Roman demigod seemed worried.

"Is everything okay?" she asked the boys, quietly.

"Pansy is terrifying," Frank whispered.

"She's somehow gotten worse," Neville added.

"Oh yeah, that makes sense," Nova shook her head. "Look, I wish I could do anything but I can't. She awful, and I'm sorry you have to deal with her."

"Got anything to say to my face, Sterling?" A voice sneered behind her.

"Actually, yeah," Nova found Pansy more of a nuisance than someone to be afraid of, and today was no exception. "If you want to win this competition - and I know you do - you'll have to learn to be nice to Frank. Teamwork is how you're able to succeed, not that I'm surprised you're unaware of that."

"You dirty little-"

"Oh, I'm not finished," Nova smiled sweetly. "I may not have evidence yet, but I know you're hiding something and I intend to find out what it is. Watch your back." 

In truth, Nova didn’t have anything on Pansy except for a hunch. There were very few suspects for the traitor amongst the students, but the Slytherin girl was high on the list. Pansy never seemed to actively want to get along with anyone, and it was clear she didn’t care for this program. All Nova needed was evidence, but she had to pull a few strings to get it.

Pansy stood there speechless, her face was riddled with anger. Nova ignored her and turned to the boys once again. "Good luck, and shout if you two need anything."

"Confringo!"

"Protego." Pansy tried to attack Nova as she was walking away from the two groups, but Nova expertly blocked it. Before a full-on duel could break out, Professor McGonagall and Chiron rushed over to the commotion.

"What is going on here?" McGonagall asked sternly, addressing the question more to Nova.

"Pansy tried to attack me using confringo, and I protected myself against the spell," she answered, calmly.

"Is this true?" Chiron asked the witnesses. Frank, Neville, and Meg nodded unable to hide their shock.

"Miss Parkinson, I thought we were done with this childish behaviour," the Headmistress glared down at the student. "Fifty points from Thunderbird, and a month's worth of detention with me. If I see this again, you will be disqualified from the tournament, and we will find a new partner for Mr Zhang."

Frank gave Nova a 'please let that happen' look, causing her to stifle a giggle. "As for you Miss Sterling."

Nova turned back to McGonagall, a slight feeling of anxiety bubbling in her stomach. "Ten points to Pukwudgie for your honesty and integrity. You will receive no punishment, but I do hope to not find you in this situation again."

"Thank you, Professor," Nova relaxed. "I understand."

Satisfied with that response, the teachers moved on and surveyed the rest of the area. Slightly annoyed with Pansy, Nova continued doing her job and firmly but kindly told everyone to get back to work. The champions complied, either starting to work or arguing with each other.

As the weeks went by, Nova got increasingly frustrated with Pansy and switched jobs with Lucas. She was growing more suspicious about her, but couldn't find the right time to try and look for the evidence she needed. Her friends were in on the idea, everyone agreeing that Pansy was the most likely candidate - although not the only one. The suspicion, however, was pushed to the side within a few weeks after Pansy had seemingly calmed down.

When October hit, there was excitement in the school once again. The corkboards in each lodge contained a notice about the first Baypoint Village visit of the year, happening during the second Saturday of the month. It was a chance for the kids to have a day to relax and not worry about school, the prophecy, or the championship and everyone was stoked. Nova, in particular, was curious about a new shop that was added to the village over the summer and couldn't wait to check it out.

#harry potter #percy jackson #pjo #harry potter/percy jackson crossover fic #harry potter/percy jackson crossover

[savannahsdrabbles]

Ocean Song - Part Two

rating: PG summary: Marine biology student April O’Neil makes a startling discovery.

notes: An AU originally based off of the 2012 TMNT universe, but can be compatible with most versions of the characters. <3 2.8k words. A03 link can be found here. Also special thanks to @cloakedrabbit and @starfiretheninja for beta-reading!

While he considered himself fairly levelheaded, there were a lot of things that ticked Casey Jones off: The referee calling foul play when an opponent obviously deserved to be body slammed, the cafeteria workers skimping on tater tots (in no universe was four enough), and people being jerks to those who couldn’t defend themselves.

The worst feeling of all, however, was when people intentionally kept secrets from him.

From the moment April O’Neil had walked into homeroom that Monday, he could tell that she had something heavy weighing on her mind. The redhead had avoided his attention-seeking gestures and whispers throughout class, seemingly intent on doodling in her notebook and not paying the slightest amount of attention to the lecture. She rested her chin in her palm, arm forming a barrier that blocked her page from anyone who walked past. Even when Casey flicked a pencil onto her desk, her only response was to absentmindedly return the utensil and continue scribbling.

By the time lunch rolled around, Casey was nearly shaking with curiosity and frustration over the unknown. With one hand firmly gripping his sack lunch, the eighteen-year-old searched the sea of dark hair on the patio and in the cafeteria, and then finally stuck his head into the library – a first for him. Sure enough, April was tucked away at a table in the far corner of the reference section with her nose to a computer monitor and the same expression of deep thought on her face. 

“Alright, Red. Spill.” April jolted when he dragged over a chair with a deafening screech and then flopped into it. Turning his lunch bag over on the table and scattering its contents, Casey shoved an apple towards the hand she was clutching the mouse with and then picked out a peanut butter granola bar to munch on. “I can tell you’re freaking out about something. Is it homework related, or what?”

“It’s nothing,” she muttered, quickly attempting to minimize the tabs she had open on the screen – though not before Casey caught a glance of the website.

“Mysteries of the Deep: Unexplained Open Ocean Phenomena,” Casey snorted, sending a spray of granola crumbs flying, and leaned over to elbow the girl playfully. “What, are you trying to find the loch ness monster or something? Cause I’m pretty sure that’s in Canada.”

To his surprise, April let out a hiss of pain and grabbed her ribs right where Casey had poked her. The smirk on his face instantly vanished, and Casey raised his hands in surrender. “Whoa – I didn’t mean to hit so hard – my bad! Are you okay?”

April’s face tightened for a moment as if she were going to argue, her brows arching into the sassy look that Casey was used to seeing whenever he whined about how useless math was, but then she heaved a sigh and dropped her hand from her side. The girl motioned for Casey to quiet down, and then stood up quickly to peer over the row of computers around them. Once she seemed satisfied that no one was nearby, the redhead relented. “I got attacked when I was diving last night.”

“Wait – what?!” Casey nearly inhaled his granola bar and had to pause for a moment to cough violently. “By what? A fish? Or one of the other divers?”

“Shhh!” the librarian hissed from across the room.

“Don’t freak out – I’m fine.” April waved a hand dismissively, and then launched into a whispered explanation of what had happened. Casey listened with a furrowed brow, constantly interjecting with questions and April constantly hissing at him to quiet down and listen so that they would not be overheard. “He’s at Hamato Labs right now – probably still on constant sedation watch until they decide what to do with him. Dad wanted me to just go back to school today like nothing had happened, but –”

“You keep calling it a ‘him’. Did you get a look at –”

“Ew – no, Casey! Gross!” April let out a muffled shriek of indignation and punched the boy in the shoulder, though her quivering lips betrayed the hint of a smirk that Casey instantly decided was worth the shoulder pain. “I could just TELL that it was a ‘he’. He gave off a ‘guy’ vibe, I don’t know. And maybe the other one, too – though I didn’t get as good of a look at him.”

Casey seemed to calm down at this, as he leaned back in his chair with a grin and kicked his legs up onto the table – which April quickly shoved off with a jerk of her head towards the librarian’s desk. “Alright, so what’s going to happen to ‘him’ now? Or wait – do you get to name him as a new species or something? Like the ‘genus turtle-us, April-us’, or whatever?”

April shrugged, her fingers tapping unconsciously on the notebook that Casey finally realized was in her lap. The spiral bound pages bore dozens of doodles from throughout the day, all bearing features of turtles with cartoonish expressions. Several words had been written and crossed out in the margins, which Casey read aloud.

“Raph-ale? Donatello?”

The girl snapped her notebook shut with a ‘PAP!’ seeming to just notice that he had been looking at it. “Art history homework – another college course. Anyway, I should probably get back to class now. Thanks for letting me ramble – it’s just a really weird situation and I’m actually kind of glad to talk about it with someone that isn’t another scientist.”

“Well, I am definitely not a scientist, so no problem,” Casey flashed a thumbs up as April began to gather her belongings. “So, when do I get to see him?”

April froze, her hands hovering over her backpack. “Excuse me?”

The boy lifted his head to double check that they were alone, and then leaned closer to April. “You tell me all about some bizarre-o turtle man that might end up being on National Geographic or something, and then you won’t let me see it? That’s pretty low, dude.”

“It’s not that I’m against you seeing him – it’s just that I’m more than likely not even supposed to be mentioning the fact of his existence to anyone outside of the research team. Any number of hippie organizations or other laboratories would spring at the chance to claim him. Besides – if we determine that whatever made him like this is the source of an imminent biological or ecological threat, the lab is going to want to keep it out of the public eye until they’ve discovered a solution.”

“C’mon!” Casey slung an arm over April’s shoulder to keep her from standing up and leaving the table. “I won’t tell anyone! I promise – I just want to get a quick peek! It’s not every day that a kaiju saves your girlfriend – ”

“I am in no way, shape or form your girlfriend, and if you ever say that again I will punch you in the throat.”

“- from a squid! Come on – please?” Casey clasped his hands in a praying position and stuck out his bottom lip. “Please please please please please – I won’t stop until you say yes – please?”

April observed him for a moment with an expression of disgust, and then let out a deep sigh, earning a whoop of approval and a loud ‘Shhhhh!’ from the direction of the librarian’s desk. “Fine. I’m heading back to the lab after school anyway. You drive, and I’ll get my dad to sign off on letting you in with me.”

“Alright, all aboard the Jonesmobile, woo woo – ow! Why did you hit me?!”

***

The rest of the day went off without a hitch – though April would be the first to admit that she was less than focused during class. All she could think about was her interaction with the turtle, and the bubbling feeling in her stomach that occurred when she considered the fact that she would get to see him again that afternoon. Casey showed signs of distraction as well – though that was fairly normal for him. April made a mental note to ensure that he was getting his homework done and turned in.

When the last bell finally rang, the two teenagers hurried out to Casey’s old Jeep and gunned it to Hamato Laboratories. A quick knock on Dr. O’Neil’s door with no response told them that he was tied up on the phone, so the two decided to head towards the labs anyway.

“I don’t think they’ll let you into the actual exam room without my dad present, but you’ll probably be able to at least look through the glass,” April explained as the two rode the elevator down to the lower floors. Several marine biologists and lab technicians passed them on their way down, each stopping to ensure that April was doing well after the incident the day before.

“Didn’t you say he’d probably be unconscious or sedated or whatever?” Casey asked. He looked thoroughly out of place in the sleek laboratory building, all skinny jeans and beat up hoodie in contrast to the white lab coats and slacks worn by almost everyone they passed. Even April had grabbed her monogramed coat from the locker area before boarding the elevator and had thrown her hair up into a bun. Despite this, the eighteen-year-old still carried himself with an air of utter ease and confidence that April couldn’t help but respect. “Is that because he hurt you?”

April hesitated before answering. “Not specifically? It’s typically a standard procedure to sedate larger animals – particularly if they’re not reacting well to the lab environment. That way if they lash out, they’re less likely to hurt themselves or anyone else. But I could tell that he wasn’t trying to hurt me yesterday – it was just an accident.” She rubbed a hand on her side and grimaced slightly as her fingertips traced the tender bruises. “Unfortunately, it wasn’t easy explaining that to my dad. He still thinks that I was freaking out and imagined a lot of what I saw and felt.”

“How can you be sure that you didn’t?”

April’s eyes snapped to Casey’s as the elevator let out a ‘ping’ to alert them that they were nearing the correct floor. “Excuse me?”

Casey shrugged. “Nothing against you, but while this thing is cool and big and stuff, isn’t it possible that you kind of hallucinated him being… human-ish? I mean – maybe it didn’t really know that it was helping you?”

“No. He knew that he was helping me.” The words she spoke swelled with utter confidence that dimmed Casey’s doubts. “I just know it. You’ll see.”

Right as the words left her mouth, the elevator doors opened into a stark white hallway offset by the dark cement floor beneath it. Pipes and power lines ran the length of the ceiling in either direction, the whirring that they produced being the only sound in the otherwise quiet hallway. As the duo stepped out of the elevator, the motion activated lights immediately kicked on and flooded the halls with a dim light. A dozen heavy doors lined the walls, each accompanied by a keycard lock and a glass window to allow observation from outside. At the very end of the hallway, a large set of double doors beneath a glowing ‘Exit’ sign signaled the entrance to the garage through which creatures were delivered.

“Welp. I’m pretty sure we are going to get murdered in this hallway.”

April snorted and grabbed for Casey’s wrist, dragging him down the hallway towards Exam Room D. “C’mon, don’t be a baby.”

“I’m not. This… just looks like a hallway that someone in Saw would get murdered in.”

“Wuss.”

***

Despite her words of reassurance, April couldn’t help but feel on edge as well. She had grown up visiting labs with her dad and following him around as he worked. The smells of antiseptic and metallic surfaces were woven through her earliest memories, combined with days spent happily watching fish moving about in their tanks as her father helped to rehabilitate everything from enormous seals to tiny starfish. Such laboratories were what inspired her love of science and biology, and had always served as a safe place in her memories.

But even as she swiped her keycard and pushed open the door to the correct exam room, her recently donned lab coat rustling quietly around her, she could tell that something was very… off.

Casey stuck close behind, the warning of staying by the observation window clearly forgotten – or ignored - as the two walked hesitantly into the dimly lit room. April noticed that the main lights had been turned off – not unusual for when researchers dealt with deep sea or photosensitive creatures – and the only light being offered was from the panels that hung around the examination tables and over the door that led out to the loading dock. Filtered water gurgled in several tanks around the room, adding to the illusion that the room might have been located underwater or someplace hidden away from the rest of the world.

“Dude,” Casey murmured quietly. “I didn’t expect this place to be so creepy.”

“It’s not, usually,” April felt a palm along the white walls until she found the light dimmer and adjusted it just enough that they had a bit more light.

“Holy crap. You weren’t joking about how big he is.”

A large glass cage, usually reserved for seals, stood in one corner of the room. The bottom of the cage had been lined with a layer of sand, which had apparently been kicked up by the creature quietly whining and shifting inside of it.

The turtle within was currently laying on its side with his armored back to the two teenagers and one leg stretched at an uncomfortable angle as it seemed to be attempting to pull itself completely into the far corner of the container. A closer look told them that the turtle had been shackled, a large iron chain around its left leg prohibiting him from crawling into his shell.

“Yeah – he actually seems smaller than I remembered…” The red head hesitantly took a step forward, eyes watching as the turtle took a shuddering breath and twitched. He didn’t seem to have noticed their arrival yet – proving the recent sedative to be quite effective. “When he was moving around in the water I could have sworn he was taller than I was, but now he doesn’t even look five feet tall!”

“Tall or not, he looks kinda dead,” Casey suddenly strode forward to stand beside April and pressed one hand to the glass, tapping lightly with his knuckle. “Wake up, dude!”

“I doubt that will do anything, Casey – he’s really drugged up at the mo-”

As if on cue, the turtle jerked in its sleep and flailed momentarily in the sand, eliciting quiet shrieks of surprise from the two observers. They both leapt backwards as the turtle rolled itself onto all fours, limbs still trembling from sleep and head shaking this way and that as the creature attempted to orient itself. There was a moment of silence as he seemed to suddenly remember his predicament, and then the turtle caught sight of April and Casey.

Eyes shrinking to pinpricks, the turtle let out a squawk of terror and scrabbled backwards on his hands and rear end until the chain grew taut and he couldn’t retreat any further, chest heaving and eyes flicking in every direction as he searched for a way out. With a jolt, April watched as the turtle threw his body sideways against the glass and clawed at the walls. The laboratory room echoed with sounds of distress as the creature began to click and squawk frantically.

“Uh – do we need to go get somebody?” the dark-haired boy pressed both hands to his ears and furrowed his brow. “’Cause he doesn’t seem to be very happy about being in there!”

“We should probably get one of the lab technicians to administer another dose of sedative,” April nodded her head back towards the door, though her eyes remained on the turtle. The creature was still clicking loudly as it balled its hands into fists and beat them against the glass. “The walls should be strong enough to hold him, but he might hurt himself if he keeps freaking out!”

“Sounds good to me!”

The girl motioned for Casey to follow her, backing slowly away from the turtle and reaching out for the door handle. As they backed away, the noise seemed to falter and then suddenly -

“Help!”

April froze, her hand inches from the doorknob, and then turned to meet Casey’s round brown orbs. “Did you-?”

“Help!”

The two stared at each other silently for a heartbeat, and then slowly turned to face the panting terrapin. The creature’s amber eyes had tracked them across the room, and now locked onto April’s own eyes with an intensity she had never seen before.

“Crap,” Casey murmured under his breath. “What did you - ?”

“Tasukete kudasai!” The turtle pressed his trembling palms against the glass, eyes round and searching as they moved to meet Casey’s. “Help! Out!”

Next Chapter

#tmnt #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #tmnt 2018 #tmnt 2012 #savannah drabbles #nickelodeon #sea turtles au

[brooklynfm]

            { aisha dee. twenty-six. cis woman. she / her} Did you see BROOKLYN MCCARTHY left their door cracked open again. You think they’d learn after living in 3A for TWO YEARS. Last time they did this you could hear LIABILITY by LORDE blasting in the hallway. If you passed by you might have even caught a glimpse of them  DOODLING IN THEIR FAVORITE SKETCHBOOK. The rest of the floor says they can be CLUMSY and MAGNANIMOUS . Seeing them in the halls always reminds me of THE BRIGHT SOUND OF JOYOUS LAUGHTER, STRAWBERRY SCENTED PERFUMES FILLING EVERY ROOM SHE WALKS INTO, and LATE NIGHT TEXTS LEFT ON READ. { raq / she/her / cst }

okay hello!! you’ll probably catch me on discord but you’re welcome to dm here too. quick introduction i’m raq and this intro is... a bit messy. i’m ironing out brooklyn a little more so if she’s totally different in a week -- pretend she isn’t lmao. i love love love to plot with you guys and get writing asap ( i miss writing SO much). sorry if this intro is a bit long like i said, still working out the kinks. alright, hit me up! 

full  name:  brooklyn  layla  mccarthy

gender: cis woman

pronouns: she / her 

nicknames:  lyn or/and brooks 

age: twenty - six

date of birth: march 18th

sign: Pisces  

place of birth:  new york, new york ( the bronx ) 

sexuality: bisexual

biography  /  (  tw; divorce mentions, I think that’s it !  )* 

Lydia Sheffield often describes the day she learned she was pregnant was the “final bullet” to an already dying relationship with her parents. At the ripe age of 16, Lydia had to confess to her ultra religious parents that she was pregnant with 17 year old Myles McCarthy’s child. The middle class and conservative  Sheffield family were absolutely furious. Her father, Jeremiah Sheffield and his wife, Esther Sheffield were so indignant that their own daughter would go against their purity beliefs they kicked her out. Naturally, it was the McCarthy family who took Lydia Sheffield into their own home. Lydia and Myles were madly in love, despite both of their parents' critiques of them being so young. The couple decided to simply get their GED’s and work on saving up for a place of their own. and, lucky for them, the McCarthy’s already owned a second house just a few blocks away. gotta love having the convenient landlords for  parents  They  rented it out to Myles and Lydia as an easy way to stay close to their  future grandchild.

Myles McCarthy always talks about how bitter cold it was the day his only daughter was born. a long, painful, thirteen hour labor led  to the birth of their pride and joy. 

There was nothing under the sun that Brooklyn didn’t try. A childhood filled with chasing the whim and  wonder of a forever curious child.  At age five she would’ve already tried and hated ballet. By six, it was piano. Seven, soccer. Yearly, changing hobbies and interests and never truly getting very good at any of them  ( she’d never stick to them long enough ).  Up until she was around eight when she dove into her grandmother’s old painting set, easel and all left behind in their old shed. It was like love at first brush, painting was the first outlet that Brooklyn had and never strayed away from. Suddenly, her days were filled with the billions of colors and canvases of scribbles resembling her mother’s favorite flower or the neighbor’s dog she loved so dearly. Growing up only a child to a hardworking, young waitress and a mechanic, Brooklyn spent a good amount of time in quiet solitude and vying for her parents' costly attention with her latest works of art.  Time is money thus their hectic work schedules didn’t exactly allot tons of bonding time with their daughter.  A lonesome childhood that only led such a glowing extrovert to really shine in school. Though her reasonable likability doesn’t exactly lead to popularity. Brook was hardly popular and didn’t really have a stable friend group most of the time. Not for lack of trying, however.  She was a clear social chameleon who tried to get along with anyone. Not quite fitting in but not really belonging either. A real people pleaser -- which almost always lends to teenhood of bad circumstances in a multitude of friendships and relationships.  

And her teen years only got progressively more complicated. Remember how her parents were so  “in love”? Well, the lack of time for their daughter bred a lack of time for each other as well.  Big surprise, her mother was a serial cheater. Her late night jobs at the diner were actually trips she’d take to go see some guy named Peter. Of course, having gone to the diner just to surprise his wife only to see she wasn’t even there, Myles always suspected she was cheating on him. Lydia got a bit reckless and brought the man home one day while Myles was out of town. Brooklyn walked in on them and their marriage was history. After this, her relationship with her mother weakened as her father grew even more distant -- willfully burying himself in his work rather than properly coping with his emotions despite gaining full custody of his daughter. The burned marriage and constant worry for money a big distraction in being heavily involved in her life. . 

Going away for college and making it on her own was meant to be her way out of her small town. Getting into NYU with her portfolio studying studio art, things were looking quite bright for Brooklyn even despite her fragile relationship with the only family she has back home. Though, she’d soon discover her talents aren’t getting her nearly as far as she hoped. So now, with a healthy bit of debt and a decent job at an art museum -- the life of a lost and very lonesome late twenty-something is in full swing. She spends a good chunk of her free time out at bars or painting in her room, wondering if this is really all her life will come to be. 

personality  /  ( musing tag here ! ) * 

Her independence is huge to her, likes being able to care for herself and others without  help. A real motivated go-getter type ( though as of the last few years, she is struggling to remain optimistic  ).  Brooklyn is booksmart. But,  still has plenty of maturing to do. Can be perceived as naïve in that regard due to her people pleasing and will to do... essentially anything to be liked. 

Just a sweet soul deep down and very loyal. Subsequently, tends to be the first to forgive anyone no matter how much they might’ve slighted her. Horrid at taking criticism ( she’s very sensitive) definitely the type to sugar coat the truth to save someone’s feelings. 

Impulsive to a fault, probably has a billion stories of the crazy she has gotten herself into. Clumsy meaning she tends to just stumble into and fumble through situations for better and ( the more likely option ) for worse. While loyal to a fault often, she’ll change her mind quickly loose interest in frivolous relationships.  Not very smooth with letting people down or saying no either.  

To sum up, I feel like she gives off really great positive vibes. Just cozy caring warm that is somewhat a mask to hide her constant indecisive impulsivities and craving for belonging. ( that got... emo -- ksdfjasd ) 

wanted connection  /  ( click here for some more ideas ! ) *

tbh i’m down for whatever you guys might need for your muses but off the top of my head... 

would love to see a best friend or two ! the first few people she grew close to during her time at floor3

college friends

work friends ( not just at the museum, could’ve met while she was in college at part-time job )

exes turned really good friends

really anything!

#intro.

[klaus-is-the-real-number-1]

This Is How It Feels (number five x reader)

A/N: i made it into a fic,, like a highschool au,, hope you enjoy like,, idk, u know them typical fics where its like ‘i dare you to graft them’ or ‘pretend to date’ and then then end up liking each other or,, i dunno. I got pure carried away sorry.(ok so i made some names up for people so, your best friend is: Beth and Beths older brother is: Dante) i havent proof read sorry :(

spazclaiire said: hii could i request headcanons or a fix of excuses five has used to hold your hand or ‘four times five had an excuse to hold your hand and the one time he went for it’ please? thank youu

words:3350

Books weighed down your arms as they spilled over the threshold of your carrying limits, they were heavy, a mix of ring binders and oversized textbooks were making you sway like a drunk man. People barging past in steady streams didn’t help your balancing act either, stumbling every few seconds hoping that the library got closer quicker. 

Swinging open the door to the library your eyes scan the room for the table you and your friends usually sit at and by ‘usually’ you actually mean every single break you get, whether its just for 5 minuets or the full hour you get for lunch or free periods. The table in question even had all your names written on the underside along with other random scribblings and doodles. You make eye contact with a few people on your table as you get closer.

“Y/n, I’ve got some tea to spill, and it involves you!” Beth excitably suggests. Beth always had some new tea to spill, she was a see all hear all person, it also helped that her older brother was in the year above and in the group of the schools self proclaimed ‘bad boys’. She always knows what they’re planning, the who, what, why and where, she had it down to a T.

Speaking of ‘T’, any tea involving you wasn’t good, there had been drama circulating about you before and it took long enough for that to die down. You sigh, hoping it’s got nothing to do with the group of ‘bad boys’. “Go on then, spill.”

“Five Hargreeves has his eyes on you.” Of course, Five was the year above and one of the smartest students in the entire school. The only reason he even knew who you were is because his best friend is Beth’s brother and you were in his AP physics. He was also classed as the fittest boy in school with the worst reputation yet the cleanest slate. 

“For god’s sake, why?” The last thing you wanted was for Five to actually care about who you were, he was a heart breaker, something that you just didn’t need.

“I’m not too sure, I haven’t heard much about the plan, but there is a plan so just be cautious. He’s probably after you because you’re fit.” You smile at her words. “Are you in the art building for lunch again?” You just nod in response.

You had been spending an increasing amount of time in the art buildings, it was just a soft and aesthetically pleasing environment to be in and it meant you’d actually get your work done. You could sit and draw for hours but with how hectic life was the art buildings was a safe getaway. So at lunchtime that’s where you found yourself, aimlessly painting the view out of the window, fields and trees and streams filled the canvas. You were in your own world, minding your own business. 

“Your painting is really pretty, but not as pretty as you.” There it was, not only half a day after being warned about Five Hargreeves he was already trying to chat you up. He was leant against a wall behind you, scanning your figure and the painting. “And I was here thinking you were just a brain and a pretty face.” It was a pitiful, low effort attempt and a half-arsed compliment.

“What do you want, Hargreeves?” It may of sounded harsh but you didn’t want to deal with his bad attempts at flirting.

“Harsh much,” He jokingly placed a hand over his heart. “Listen I need a favour, all you have to do is walk out of this building holding my hand and pretend to date me for about 2 days maybe.” A shockingly fake smile spread across his face as he held his hand out.

“So let me guess,” You tapped your finger on your chin, mockingly thinking. “I’ll pretend to date you, you’ll win some sort of bet and then the best part is when you tell everyone we shagged then you dumped me right after!” You returned his bittersweet fake smile. “I’m going to have to pass Hargreeves, I’d rather not be apart of one of your silly little games.” 

With a tut, he turned around to leave the block not before having the last word. “You’ll fall in love with me eventually y/n, they always do.” You could help but to scoff as he walked out of the room, he was too cocky, all the years he always had any girl he ever wanted to drop at his feet but not you.

Time ticked away slowly until it came to AP Physics, it was a brutal way to end the day often ending with being completely worn out. You were concentrating on rearranging the equations that needed to be used, it was going well until a piece of scrunched paper landed where you were writing. You simply brush it to the side and continue with your work, you had a faint idea who it was from seen as Five sat on the opposite side of your table of 4, ideal, you know.

“y/n.”  His foot playfully tapped yours, causing you to roll your eyes. “Open it.” 

So you did, only to be met with the more than classy words ‘my offer still stands ;)’ You couldn’t believe it, looking him in the eyes you pretended to ponder his decision, swiftly followed by tearing the note up and sliding it back over to him. Fives mouth hung open, you smugly go back to what you were working on. 

Five was relatively quite for the rest of the class, resulting in it going much quicker than it normally would. He would sometimes answer questions but other than that there was no more chew from Five. In a blink of an eye it was time to go home to rest and recuperate from a long day of lessons, to prepare for the exact same the next day, the same as you do every day.

Five paced around his room, he hadn’t lost a bet yet and he wasn’t going to start losing them now. It was a simple bet, make y/n fall for him. Five didn’t particularly want to follow through with this bet, it wasn’t fair on y/n seen as she hadn’t done anything wrong to Five. Dante had only made Five do the bet as he knew Five used to have a slight thing for y/n, it was almost comedically convenient that Dante’s younger sister was best friends with y/n, Dante couldn’t help himself whenever y/n was around his house with Beth to make a comment about it. But despite all this, he couldn’t lose the bet.

The next day, Five had a plan, he knew that in AP Physics the teacher was about to set a new project to be completed in pairs, so naturally he went straight to the teacher. “Sir, for that paired project I really think I should work with y/n, we’d work so well together.” He practically begged his teacher.

“I’ll think about it Five, but if I do place you together, please make an effort to improve your behaviour. It’s your last year and you have such great potential, don’t waste it.” The spiel was met by a roll of Fives eyes followed by a muttered ‘sure’. Five regularly got this talk all the time, everyone says that he needs to focus his academic knowledge into something, anything, but he’s just not motivated by anything. Everything had either been invented or is being invented so there was just no point in trying.

The weekend drew closer with every ticking minuet, teasing you with every small movement of the hands, counting down like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. You were sat in your last lesson, AP Physics, took your seat and took out your supplies. You lazily observed as the rest of your class walked in, you gave and received a few smiles to and from various classmates until last person the last person in, Five Hargreeves, he waltzed into the room with confidence oozing from him. 

Before Five had a chance to speak the teacher was already up and writing the title on the board ‘electromagnetism’. As soon as the words appeared on the board a collective groan of despair was heard throughout the room. 

“So,” The teacher started, clearly enjoying the sudden drop in mood. “I know how much you all love electromagnetism, so what were going to do is work in pairs to create a powerpoint and a poster covering all the aspects of electromagnetism!” The room livened up a bit at the prospect of working with a friend, that was until the teacher continued. “I have put you in pairs, so listen in as I call the pairs out and then move next to your new physics partner.”

People moved about the room to sit next to their project partner, you listened closely to hear who you’d be partnered with this time. “Y/n?” “Sir.” “You’re with Five Hargreeves.” You see Fives face light up as he slides his books across the desk the the seat next to yours, the smug grin never leaving his face once. 

You begin to write down what you had to do for the presentation, feeling Fives eyes stare into the side of your head. “So over the weekend can you do as much research on magnetic flux, flux density and field strength and I’ll cover BH curves and permeability, does that sound good?”  

“Why don’t we just meet up over the weekend and make a start together?” He nudged your elbow, your pen run up your page, ruining the word you were writing.

“Can’t. I’m working all weekend.” Which was met with a small ‘o’ from Five, he turns way and messily scribbles on a sheet of paper and then slides it back over to you. 

“Well if you can’t meet up this weekend then at least have my number.” You slightly smile and fold the piece of paper up and slip it into your notebook. Before Five could slip in another word the bell rang, signalling the end of the day. You say your goodbyes and begin the walk home, it was a fairly long walk home maybe reaching around 30 minuets but it was always a pretty sight to walk through the woods during the spring, pink petals from the cherry blossoms littered the ground, colouring the dull world waking up from winter.

Once home you stared at the crumpled paper with Fives number on it, also noticing the smaller scribbled snapchat username. It felt like a smarter decision just to add him on snap for now but save his number in your contacts, just in case. As soon as you added him he accepted within a matter of seconds, followed by a picture message ‘hey x’ it read. You simply send a picture back of your blank wall and place your phone down, you let a small laugh as your phone buzzes again. 

Sitting at your desk, you pulled out your books and your laptop to make a start on the physics work. You just couldn’t help but check what Five had responded, clicking his name you were met with his face in a pout. You respond with a picture of you sticking your tongue out, which got a response quickly. This stream of photos carried on until the early hours of the morning not even realising the time and that in a mere 6 hours you had to go to work, you send ‘night’ to Five and place your phone on the side, a small smile on your face as you drifted to sleep.

Five laid awake, considering calling the bet off all together. Hours of talking to y/n only felt like minuets, Five wanted to get to know y/n on his own terms not on the terms of a bet. He shouldn’t of accepted the bet to begin with, his competitiveness got the best of him. 

The weekend went far to quickly for your liking, mixed with work and school work. Five was also non-stop messaging you throughout the weekend, he found a way to talk to you about everything and anything, often sending long video messages of him walking round his giant house, you could always hear the shouts of his siblings in the background.

Monday nights were the one night of the week that you enjoyed, Monday was movie night at Beth’s house. The night usually went that straight after school you’d take over the living room, bringing out the blankets and extra pillows, you would both then decide what films to watch and what food to get. Once that was all done you’d both bunker down and start the movies, getting ready for a long night.

About halfway through the first movie Five and Dante slowly made their way into the main room, stealing some of your pizza before sitting down on the sofa to join you. Five took a seat next to you while Dante sat on an armchair, Five pulled your blanket so it was covering both of you, leaning back into the sofa you could feel physically how close he was to you and it was driving you mad.

Beth caught your eyes and wiggled her eyebrows, you responded by sending a cheeky wink with a joking smile. As the night moved on and the movies continued, you and Five slowly moved closer throughout the movie marathon, it couldn’t of been helped, you were both like two magnets. 

The final scene in The Breakfast Club was playing, both Beth and Dante had already fallen asleep, you felt Fives hand touch the side of yours. You slightly push your hand back against his, welcoming the warmth as his touch, your reaction invited him to link his fingers with yours. Light from the TV bounced off the features of his face, defining his angled lines of his face, you couldn’t deny that he was handsome, very handsome. 

The screen of the TV turned dark as you used the remote to switch it off, a dim glow of the moon shone through the open windows, the moment was romantic, overly romantic but it was the sleepiness making you ignore the voice that was screaming that he didn’t mean it, he had an end game and you couldn’t forget that. 

You pulled your hand from Five and lean over to Beth and lightly shake her shoulders. “Beth, its 20 past 1, I think it’s time to go to bed.” She responds by making some unclear noises and began to sit up, you smile and stand up pulling her with you. You spare a glance back at Five before continuing upstairs, unable to stop the tingling feeling in your hand.

Eventually, you had to meet up with Five to work on the physics project, you both hadn’t spoken since Monday night. Well not exactly, Five had been messaging you a lot but you just hadn’t been responding because all you could think about was if he had a possible end game. You didn’t want to get played by Five.

You heard soft steps getting closer, you look up to meet Fives eyes. “Hey.” He spoke in a soft voice in the quiet library. He pulled a chair out from besides you and sat down, pulling his textbooks out of his bag. You both made small talk during your work, it was a nice atmosphere in the library, a nice atmosphere between you and Five with no looming pressure after what happened Monday night.

A breeze drifted through the large room, causing you to break out in goosebumps and shiver. You decided that morning that you could just wear a T-shirt with no jacket as the sun was out, how wrong you were when dark clouds swarmed over. 

“Do you want to borrow my hoodie?” Five asked, but he was already taking it off to give to you.

“Oh no Five it’s okay, it’s my own fault I forgot my jacket. Anyways what would you wear?” Despite how cold you were you really didn’t want to borrow Fives hoodie, he would be just as cold as you were.

“No please y/n, take it. I’ve got an extra jacket in my locker anyways.” He pushed his hoodie into your hands. You could tell he was probably lying about it but you sheepishly took his hoodie and put it on, it was warm and you couldn’t help but smile a little bit. 

You mutter your thanks, a warm flush coming over your face as you continue to work on your project until your next lesson. Once the bell rang, you both left to opposite directions, you completely forgot that you had Fives hoodie on until you sat next to Beth in english to be passed a scrap piece of paper with scribbled writing ‘That’s not your hoodie???’ you smile at the sheet and just write back ‘Five’s’ 

You didn’t see Five for the rest of the day until you got a message during the last lesson. ‘meet me near math class at the end of the day x’ It wasn’t a question, he was telling you. You send an ‘ok’ and continue with your lesson, constantly distracted by the ticking arms of the clock, counting down it’s last minuets.

As the clock strikes 3 you make your way to the math department, you were fighting against the tide as everyone rushed to get out of school. As the crowed begun to thin you saw Five standing outside the maths classroom, standing hoodie-less. He made his way towards you, smile present on his face.

“Where’s this jacket that was meant to be in your locker?” He just laughs and shrugs his shoulders.

“I mean my hoodie looks better on you than it did on me so I don’t mind.” You smile at him and begin your decent through the school. “So I was thinking we could just like, go for a walk? It’s just nice spending time with you.”

You both aimlessly wandered around town until finding a small cafe to reside in when the weather started to turn, Five had a black coffee and you had a hot chocolate. The room was filled with noise from others in the cafe and also from the outside world that couldn’t reach you in your own little world.

“Five, not to sound daft or anything but are you still trying to do this for the bet or are you being genuine?” You didn’t want to sound harsh but you were still unsure if this was genuine or just an oscar winning act.

“y/n,” He reached over and took your hand. “I called the bet off just before Monday night, as soon as I came to the school and saw you I knew straight away I wanted to be with you.” He ran his thumb gently over your knuckles. “I know you wont trust me right away but I want to make you trust me, I want you to feel the same way about me as I do for you.”

“Okay.”

All it took was that one word to kickstart your time with Five. It started small, handholding any chance he got, he seemed to always need to be close, holding and hugging you. He was so affectionate and almost touched starved, begging like a stray puppy. Five slowly gained your trust and love for him, he had an infinite amount of hoodies and oversized T-shirts, truth be told you were pretty sure Five just loved to see you in his clothes.

You and Five were cuddled up on your bed, he was running his fingers through your hair as light cut through the curtains, lighting the room in a heavenly glow. Five placed a kiss on the side on your head, pulling you closer as he did. 

“Y/n, I think I’m in love with you.” You smile and lean into his embrace.

“I think I’m in love with you too, Five.”

#The Umbrella Academy #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy x reader #tua #tua x reader #tua imagine #five #five x reader #five imagine #five hargreeves #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves fluff #number five #number five x reader #number five imagine #number five fluff #number 5 #number 5 x reader #number 5 imagine #number 5 fluff #my works

[randomoranges]

hello, do you like long fics? do you like soft? here is a long soft fic.

so this started off - really, back in february when i was visiting my friends [when that was still allowed - lol] and we were discussing our ocs as we sometimes happen to do. that and how with time they get more ok with more “feminine things” and such.

i made a doodle inspired by that conversation.

then lockdown happened. and with my tablet i decided to digitally colour that doodle. i thought it looked pretty neat. as i looked at it i started to wonder what the “fem versions” of ed and ét would be like and look like and came to the realisation that NO ONE had ever thought of that.

then an entire fucking au was born from that because that’s the way i function, apparently.

i made a few art pieces and started writing this behemoth on april 12th 2020.

i got like 70% done and then stopped. got blocked or just didn’t have the motivation for it.

seeing as i go back to work tomorrow [god dont make me go] and this fic wasn’t done yet, i told myself that this quarantine fic would END NOW.

so i spent the last 3 nights hacking at the remaining 30%.

i could have split it up in parts, i know, but seeing as i suffered through the whole thing in one part so do you :) 

here we go for the genderbend au no one ever even asked for like literally.

evelyn = edward

éliane = étienne

also, how many song lyrics can i fit in one title lamao.

in total this one has more pages than keesha kee taen, but like 1000 less words.

Girl, You Really Got me Now [It’s a Love Story] [[The Ballad of Éliane and Evelyn]]

 Éliane Maisonneuve remembered the exact and precise moment that Evelyn Murphy waltzed into her life. She remembered the exact moment it happened for the simple reason that it changed her life. For the better.

 It happened one glorious day in September, about a week or so after school started, sometime after Labour Day. It was her senior year of high school, the world was sitting in the palm of her hand, and she had been busy recounting her rather exciting weekend to her friends, when their homeroom teacher had walked in, followed by a student. Éliane prided herself with knowing everyone and anyone in the school. Mostly, because she was a social butterfly, also because it helped when one was the vice-president of the student body (president had too many responsibilities, not enough fun). Therefore, she automatically knew that this was a new student.

 It was about as far as her analysis went for her brain stuttered when she got a good look at the new girl, while her teacher introduced her. God, but she was absolutely gorgeous. She had pretty, dark, brown hair cut slightly above her shoulders, a cute little barrette in her hair, the prettiest hazel eyes this side of the world, for sure, and the softest looking skin Éliane had ever seen. Her darker complexion went rather nicely with the colours of the school uniform and there was just something about the way she played with the hem of her sweater that tugged at Éliane’s heart.

 Before her homeroom teacher could even get to the part of asking for a benevolent soul to show her (her name was Evelyn Murphy – her brain had registered that much) around, Éliane had bolted out of her seat, only near tripping on herself to volunteer for the honour. She absolutely needed to become friends with Evelyn. It was a matter of life or death. She knew. Evelyn had offered her the actual cutest little shy smile Éliane had ever seen in her life and she had eagerly told her friend to change seats so that Evelyn could sit next to her.

 Even then, without fully knowing, she was already infatuated.

 Evelyn turned out to be a rather quiet girl. Éliane chalked it up to being new to the school and a little intimidated by it, but she vowed to herself that she would make sure everyone treated Evelyn right. She introduced her to all her friends, made sure she knew where all her classes were and gave Evelyn her phone number and e-mail address in case she had any questions. Éliane declared them friends by the end of lunch and the pretty little blush on Evelyn’s cheeks was a thing of beauty.

 Éliane even went as far as walk Evelyn home, despite her telling her that it was alright and that she knew how to get back, but Éliane wanted to spend more time with her and insisted, figuring she could tell her new friend about the cool hangouts around school (there were three – the dep’, the hamburger shack down the street and the alcove by the river (which was a good place to go make-out, but that was a detail – the rocks there were really cool, it was just a question of no one ratting you out.))

 Éliane, surprisingly, for once, managed not to spend the entire walk to Evelyn’s gabbing away about one thousand different trivialities and instead bombarded the new girl with ten thousand different questions. Luckily, Evelyn took it all in stride and patiently answered her questions. It was how Éliane found out that Evelyn’s father had been transferred and had started a new job here over the summer and how his position had been extended. The rest of her family had then moved over and by the time they were settled and her school papers were in order, school had already started, but here she was now.

 And goodness, here she was now indeed, Éliane thought.

 They became inseparable, fast, mostly due to Éliane doing her utmost best to include Evelyn in absolutely everything she did. Evelyn fit in nicely with Éliane’s group of friends, which was a good thing, otherwise she would have dumped their sorry asses and started a new, better group. But, the others took Evelyn in and Éliane called it a success.

 Éliane was head strong, brash, and impulsive and liked to stick her fingers in as many pies as she could. She liked to keep busy with projects that interested her and she was always ready to try something new. Therefore, even though term had already started, she decided, quite on an impulse, one day, to switch out one of her courses for home-economics, just because Evelyn was in it and had said nice things about it. It was a good thing Éliane was a well liked student by the faculty members and that this change actually made her advanced art program fit better in her schedule , but the secretary still gently scolded her and told her that she would have a lot of catching up to do.

 Luckily, Éliane had a plan.

 Her plan consisted on being her disastrous self in a kitchen and hope that Evelyn would take pity on her and help her out.

 Luckily, Éliane didn’t have to try very hard for her plan to work. During her first assignment, she managed to set the smoke detector off, twice. For the second assignment, she had to be rushed to the nurse’s office after she accidentally sliced her finger open. After the third assignment, she needed ointment for a rather nasty burn. Once the mid-term report cards came out and Evelyn found out Éliane was failing home-economics spectacularly, she took pity on her friend and teamed up with her for the following projects.

 It was a win-win, in Éliane’s opinion, even if she barely scrapped by and the class brought down her overall average, (but she was getting better – it had to count for something, right?)

 Éliane ended up spending a lot of time with Evelyn what with classes, hanging out together and after school extracurricular.  Evelyn ended up joining the theatre club and Éliane nearly lost her mind when she found out her quiet, mostly shy friend could act it out on stage like the best of them. It was a whole new side of her that she had only ever glimpsed and Éliane loved it. The girl had spunk. She was feisty. And slowly, slowly, Evelyn emerged from her shell as she got used to her new school and new surroundings. With time, Éliane got to get to know her better and discovered a treasure trove of other interesting things about her – like her sense of humour, which was dry and cutting and an absolute gift.

 Éliane wondered where Evelyn had been all her life.

 Once Christmas break rolled around, Evelyn’s mood took a dip, since for the first time ever, she would be away from her friends and family. Éliane took it upon herself to make sure her friend wouldn’t feel left out during the holidays and so she organised outings and parties with her and her friends to make sure Evelyn had a good time. The Murphy’s were even invited over for Christmas Eve and Éliane thought it was her greatest accomplishment yet. Throughout the rest of the holiday break, there were many outings to get hot chocolate, tobogganing, but by far, the best surprise came when Éliane suggested they go ice-skating, since the rinks were finally open and she found out that Evelyn could skate really well. Not only that, but the girl had a competitive streak to her as well and it was so very easy to get  her riled up if any type of friendly competition was presented to her. Evelyn had depth and personality and there were so many different sides to her that Éliane loved so much. It seemed that the more she got to know her friend, the more she found out about her and it was great.

 Winter break went by quickly, what with the myriad of activities Éliane orchestrated and it ended with by far, the greatest event to the start off the new year – Evelyn’s birthday.

 Towards the start of the break, Evelyn had quietly invited the inner circle of the friend group for a sleepover on the last Saturday of break, since her birthday fell on a Wednesday. They would be four in total and Éliane spent the better part of her days leading up to her friend’s birthday trying to come up with the Best Gift Ever, when she wasn’t busy spending time with her friends or stuffing her face with her grandmother’s baked goods. She was looking forward to the party and Evelyn kept reminding her that it would be a simple, quiet affair. They would get takeout, there would be cake, they would watch movies, they would eat too much candy and chips and chocolate – and eventually, they would all crash at some ungodly hour of the morning.

 Éliane still thought it sounded like the greatest thing ever.

 The party in itself turned out to be lovely and loud and boisterous. Mr. And Mrs Murphy put on brave faces and stuck around making sure everything was okay and to wish their daughter a happy birthday, while Evelyn’s younger sister had found herself a better place to be. They played games, spent the better part of the evening gossiping about school – their teachers, their classmates, another part worrying about which Cégep to apply to and what program, until Éliane declared that all “no-fun” school talk was banned. So, they watched a stream of movies, one of the other girls gave Evelyn a manicure and they ate too much candy and chips and chocolate.

 Somewhere around midnight, before it got to be too late, they took a break to change into their pyjamas. They were waiting for Evelyn to return and Éliane was waiting on the couch, wearing her own set of teddy bear patterned pyjama pants and long sleeved sweatshirt she had pilfered from one of her brothers (it was large, it was comfortable and it was warm), when Evelyn came to join them.

 Éliane cared very little about what others wore to bed. Normally, she wore boxer shorts and nothing else – unless it was cold outside, which it currently was. The thing was, she would have never associated Evelyn with the pyjama set that she was wearing. Evelyn rejoined their little group as if nothing was wrong with the world and went and plopped herself right next to Éliane wearing by far the most ridiculous (gorgeous), frilly (utterly inappropriate), matching set of what seemed to be lilac silk pyjamas. There was lace. There were motifs. It had little tiny straps that covered her shoulders (Éliane’s brain reminded her that this was the most skin she had seen on her friend and that she could see her clavicle and shoulder blades and the dip of her neck and – and then there were the shorts! The equally silk shorts that hugged her thighs just so and – maybe, maybe it was always really hot at the Murphy’s, which was why Evelyn slept in such a getup, because suddenly, Éliane found herself overheating. And then she had to give her friend one more (discreet – hopefully) one over and of course she had to notice the way the fabric hugged her chest, the shape she could guess underneath and – this really wasn’t fair.

 The thing was – the real issue here was – that Éliane M. Maisonneuve had accidentally gone and developed the stupidest of crushes on Evelyn A. Murphy and she was a complete goner.

 And now her friend was sitting beside her in her silk pyjamas looking like a goddamned gift and Éliane wanted to hold her close, furrow her face in the crook of her neck and ghost her hands over the fabric of her pajamas – and more. She was doomed. This was neither the place nor the time and she did her utmost best to keep her thoughts pure and innocent, but apparently, the universe hated her, because Evelyn slid extremely close to her, until she was half pressed on Éliane’s side and took a hold of her hand.

 “I get really afraid during scary movies,” She whispered in her ear and Éliane tried to suppress the shivers that ran down her spine and the sudden urge she had to turn around and kiss Evelyn’s stupid (beautiful, glorious) face senseless. Instead, she clutched at her friend’s hand in return, didn’t let go for the duration of the movie – and tried her best not to feel anything every time Evelyn gasped and clutched at her a little harder when she got scared. (And she tried really hard not to think of the way Evelyn’s body felt pressed up against her side.)

 Éliane knew what she liked – couldn’t care less about the gender of people. She had dated a little, had stolen kisses from girls behind cafés and had gone out on dates with boys. So long as she was interested, it didn’t matter and, apparently, her mind had decided that it was very interested in Evelyn. (And really, could she be blamed? Evelyn was mighty fine, thank you very much.)

 She was so screwed.

 Éliane swore to herself that she would keep her stupid crush to herself and bury her feelings so far deep inside of her that she would be long dead before they could ever resurface properly.

 Therefore, by Tuesday, over lunch, Éliane took her other best friend, Emma, aside, to spill absolutely everything to her.

 Now, Éliane and Emma had met on the very first day of kindergarten and had been placed in the same class. They had been sat next to each other and Éliane had declared her her best friend by the time lunch had rolled in. Emma had no idea how it was that they had remained friends for so long, but Éliane was her best friend and so, despite being quite exhausted by her friend’s daily ongoing complaint about whatever it was that was personally vexing her, she half listened to her friend.

 Normally, Emma would have been sympathetic and offered Éliane some advice, but Éliane was the absolute worst when it came to taking advice and instead preferred moping around and taking everything way too dramatically as if the world was against her.

 So she did just that and Emma couldn’t wait for Éliane to move on to a new hyper-fixation.

 Unfortunately, that never happened.

 “Why don’t you – and I’m just ball-parking it here – actually tell Ev’ how you feel and y’know, maybe she’ll feel the same way?” Emma reiterated for what felt like the millionth time. By February, Emma had heard her friend lament her unrequited crush so often that she could predict what Éliane would tell her almost verbatim.

 “But Ems, what if she doesn’t? What if she thinks I’m gross and then never wants to speak to me again? Emma, I can’t risk that!” She bemoaned, burying her face in her pillow. It was a quiet Friday night and Emma had done the mistake of throwing an impromptu sleepover between her and Éliane. She had hoped it would be a fun sleepover; instead, she was being privy to another round of Éliane’s love tribulations.

 “If she thinks you’re gross she’s dead to all of us.” Emma stated in her no-nonsense tone. The rest of their friend group knew of Éliane’s preferences and could care less about who she dated. If Evelyn had a problem with it, she would be more than happy to kick her out of the circle, “She’s not worth your time if she can’t accept you the way you are.” This was why Éliane liked Emma. She was straight to the point and wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, even over controversial matters.

 “I knoooooow, but I like her sooooo much. Emmmmaaaaaaaaaaa, she’s sooooo pretty, it’s not faaaaaair,” She whined and put on her best kicked puppy expression. Emma rolled her eyes and threw a pillow at her. She was immune to that look by now. Mostly.

 “I mean, have we even ever heard Evelyn express an interest in anyone at school?”

 “Noooo, but what if – what if she has a boyfriend back home and she promised to be true to him? Or like what if she’s super conservative or something? Aren’t they conservative back in Alberta?”

 “Don’t you think she would have mentioned having a boyfriend – or someone special – back home after all this time? And even if there are people who are conservative back in Alberta, who’s to say that she is? God knows she follows you around on half your crazy schemed ideas. Maybe she likes you and she’s shy. Maybe she’s just a friend. Maybe you should just fucking talk to her and leave me out of your love life, please, Éliane, I’m not even your therapist.”

 Éliane pouted and threw the pillow back at her.

 “Big baby. Just write her a Valentine’s and play it off as a joke if she rejects you.”

 “That is the worst idea ever. My heart would be shattered and I’d never be able to face her ever again.” Emma sighed as Éliane went off another tangent. Sometimes, she wondered why she bothered.

 Éliane did not take up Emma on her advice and so, come Valentine’s Day, she did absolutely nothing and played it cool, by her standards. This meant that she kept a close eye on anyone who approached Evelyn with Valentine’s and she was only too pleased (relieved) when no one had made any outlandish love declarations to her. (Not that Evelyn didn’t deserve outlandish love declarations, but Éliane wanted to be the one to do them, not some other person.)

 It also meant that her heart sank when Evelyn didn’t get her any particular Valentine and that she only gave her a small chocolate, like she did with all of their other friends. It wasn’t that she expected anything, but if Evelyn had made a move on her, it would have helped ease her mind and given her some sense of direction. Still, Éliane had to consol herself; at least Evelyn was her friend. It could be so much worse.

 Her crush only kept growing as the days went by and even when she tried looking elsewhere, hoping that a distraction from Evelyn would help, it seemed her heart and mind were set on Evelyn no matter what. It was utterly annoying and Emma was ready to murder her if she kept this on.

 Therefore, Éliane came up with another of her Brilliant Plans, which Emma agreed was absolutely stupid. With prom coming up at the end of the year, Éliane decided to put her big move there and ask Evelyn to go as her date. Emma politely reminded her that prom was in literal months and that a million different things could happen between now and then. Plus, there was also the fact that Éliane would be even more insufferable until then.

 Éliane was pretty confident that it would give her enough time to gather more intel on whether or not Evelyn liked her That Way and hence, would only help her out in the long run. If anything, if Evelyn was dateless by then, they could just go as friends and Éliane could save face.

 In the meantime, however, there was One particular incident that left Éliane even more confused than ever before.

 It was a known fact that Éliane Maisonneuve liked to sprawl out when she sat down. Be it chair, sofa, couch or stool, Éliane took up as much space as possible. The other known fact was that Éliane Maisonneuve was a very tactile person. She had never heard of personal space when it came to her friends and if she was sitting with her friends, it wasn’t an uncommon sight to see her using her friends’ laps as extensions of the surfaces she was sitting on. She was known to sit on their laps, drape herself over them, lay her head on their shoulders or laps, and so on. No one was safe from her sprawling, not even Evelyn.

 During the winter months, Éliane opted for the school pants as opposed to the skirt, since it was too bloody cold outside and even with stockings, she froze. However, with spring back on the menu, she was quick to ditch the pants and go back to the skirt.

 It happened to be a skirt-wearing day, when, during lunch, Éliane had elected Evelyn’s lap to sit on, since she was the first to have finished eating lunch. Now, normally, when Éliane sat on Evelyn’s lap, Evelyn would put one arm over Éliane’s own lap, to keep her from falling off, and her other arm would either wrap itself around her waist, or rest against the back of the sofa they claimed for themselves for lunch, when they ate inside, in one of the school’s hangout spots.

 However, this time – this time something monumental happened.

 Éliane sat on Evelyn’s lap like always, and at first Evelyn held on to her as she normally did, but then, a few minutes later, Evelyn’s hand that was around her waist shifted ever so. At first, Éliane thought little of it, but then Evelyn placed her hand to rest on the side of her leg, underneath her skirt, right on her skin. Éliane stilled and tried to think little of it. Evelyn had just found a better way to place her hands, there was nothing to it – that had to be it. This wasn’t planned. This had been accidental, clearly. But then – then her friend went ahead and started – rubbing her skin? With her thumb? In a small, circular way? Or something. Because, Éliane felt Evelyn’s thumb rub her skin in a circular motion, but there was no way for her to see and she wasn’t about to ask (because it felt really good and she didn’t want Evelyn to stop and if she was hallucinating then she would look like a fool.) Plus, Éliane did try to get a read off Evelyn’s face, but when she looked, Evelyn wasn’t even looking her way, instead focused on whatever else it was their friends were saying, a small, gentle smile on her face.

 What. The ever loving fuck. Did this actually mean?

 Éliane tried to remain still, tried to brush it off as nothing and tried to play it cool, but for the rest of the day, she was a right hot mess and she spent the better part of the rest of the week (and month) replaying the feel of Evelyn’s hand on her bare thigh and it did not help any of her little fantasies one bit. (Because good Lord, someone help her, how she had wanted Evelyn’s hand to creep up her thigh, touch her elsewhere, make her feel good – how she had wanted to wrap her legs around her friend, grind against her, get her hands underneath Evelyn’s silly school blouse, feel her up – hear her moan –)

 This was really getting out of hand.

 Éliane kept pinning from afar, much to Emma’s annoyance, especially since she was the only one in their friend circle to know about her crush and no other major incidents of the sort came to throw Éliane for a loop. She still convinced herself that she would do something about it for prom, but Emma wasn’t convinced, and quite frankly, neither was Éliane.

 And then it was Éliane’s birthday.

 Éliane had a rather busy birthday schedule, what with celebrating with her family and twin sister, wanting to do something fun with her friends and also doing something lowkey on the actual day of. As was the standard amongst their friend group, one of them made a birthday cake to be had at lunch, there were presents and it was a lovely day overall.

 On top of that, she had all her favourite classes today and it was honestly looking up to be the best birthday ever. She was looking forward to the weekend and her mind was focused on the end of the day, when she got a note from Evelyn during class.

 “Meet me in the park by the swing set after class,” The note said and Éliane tried to get her friend’s attention, wondering what this could mean and what game her friend was playing at, but Evelyn never looked her way and so Éliane was left guessing. She even tried to ask her after class, but Evelyn went ahead of her, while the teacher asked Éliane to stay behind for a bit, since she wanted to go over some of the texts for the upcoming school play.

 Therefore, once she could leave, she ran to her locker to drop off her books, changed out of her school shoes, grabbed her sweater and backpack, and then ran off to the park next to the school. She hoped Evelyn hadn’t been waiting long and that she wouldn’t think she had stood her up, even though she had seen Éliane with their teacher. Still.

 Éliane nearly tripped down the stairs to the park and was ever so relieved to see that Evelyn was still there waiting for her.

 “What’s up?” She asked, slightly out of breath.

 “I wanted to give you your birthday gift.” She said, smiling at her and Éliane’s stomach did a funny thing at the sight. It always did a funny thing at the sight. It was such a pretty smile.

 “But, you gave me your gift earlier with the others,” She said, giving her friend a quizzical look. Not that she minded more gifts, but she didn’t expect her friend to get her multiple gifts.

 “I know – but this one is special. Close your eyes?”

 Éliane did as she was told even though her curiosity was eating her alive.

 “No peeking!” Evelyn cautioned and it was very tempting to, but Éliane remained still, with her eyes closed, heart beating wildly as she waited.

 Evelyn took her hands and Éliane figured she would place something in them, but instead her friend held on. Éliane was about to ask what this was all about, but the following moment, she felt the softest of presses against her lips. She gasped and her eyes opened on their own just in time to see Evelyn lean away from her, a lovely blush spreading across her cheeks.

 “Did you just – was that just –”There was no way Evelyn had kissed her. She must have dreamt the entire thing up and blacked out, or something. Maybe she had really slipped down the stairs, fallen and hit her head. It may have been her birthday and all, but these types of things only happened in trashy romance novels she liked to splurge on.

 “Look ,” Evelyn started, blush deepening across her face and Éliane stopped talking all together, while her brain tried to reboot itself, “I like you. A lot. And I have, for a while now... and well, I wanted to take a chance. Since it’s your birthday and all. And, yeah – I – don’t hate me?” She stammered and Éliane could only stare at her.

 Evelyn Murphy liked her.

 The absolutely wonderful person that was Evelyn Murphy liked her and had kissed her on her birthday. Éliane might actually faint and go into shock.

 Instead, she launched herself at Evelyn and kissed her hard. Evelyn stumbled back in surprise, trying not to fall over, and wrapped her arms around Éliane out of reflex.

 “I like you too, you silly goose, and I could never hate you,” Éliane blurted out when she pulled away, before cupping Evelyn’s face with her hands and kissing her again, this time much slower and softer. She let out a breathy little gasp when Evelyn held her, their bodies pressed close. It was everything she’d been hoping for months and everything she’d never, in her wildest dreams, think she’d get. She chased after as many kisses as Evelyn allowed her and silently swooned at the softness of her lips against her own. She knew, already, that she could never tire of this.

 “Go to prom with me?” She added, catching her breath, riding a high she never wanted to come down from. Evelyn’s eyes widened and then she smiled and it caught Éliane’s breath. It was such a lovely sight, so beautiful and pure, and she wanted to be the cause of those smiles for a very, very long time.

 “I’d love to,” Evelyn told her, before kissing her again. And again. And again and again.

 --

 It was nice, finally being able to hold Evelyn’s hand whenever she felt like it. Éliane made it her personal mission to walk to every class she had with Evelyn by holding her hand and sometimes, if Evelyn let her, she carried her books as well. She was stupid in love with her and she couldn’t believe how lucky she was that Evelyn liked her – that they could hold hands and kiss and spend a stupid amount of time texting each other strings of heart emojis late into the night. Éliane never wanted the feeling to end.

 It turned out that Evelyn wasn’t out to her parents and she had no idea how they would take to her being attracted to girls, so they agreed to keep things under wrap around them when Éliane went over. Éliane had already done her own coming out to her parents, almost two years ago, but she supposed she had an easier ride, considering her eldest brother was gay and very much cohabiting with his boyfriend for the past several years now. She was thankful that her parents were okay with it and could only hope that Evelyn’s parents would be as well, whenever it was she decided to tell them.

 For now, it just meant that Éliane had to keep her hands to herself when she was over at the Murphys’, but she could make-out with Evelyn at her place all she wanted, (or until her sister told her to stop being so gross.)

 May also meant receiving Cégep admission letters and a whole flock of stress, anxiety, and high emotions. Evelyn found the idea a little dumb, but since her family was still in Montréal and she would have to do an extra year of high school if she went back home, she had found herself obliged to apply as well. She ended up applying to most of the Cégeps her friends wanted to go to, so that she could at least be with them and she surprised herself when their excitement turned contagious when her own acceptance letters started trickling in.

 The only problem was that she had no idea where it was she wanted to go.

 She was pretty convinced she wanted to be an engineer – maybe a civil engineer later on, but so long as she did something science and math related in Cégep, she would be fine. Where she did it didn’t matter. She kept her options open and waited to see where the others would go. Therefore, when Éliane got accepted into the program of her choice in visual arts at the Cégep she really wanted to, Evelyn quietly accepted her own offer at the same school. (And when Éliane found out, nearly two weeks later, she had been extremely happy and there may or may not have been many tears.)

 She knew that realistically her chances of having any classes with Éliane were slim, that their schedules might not even match up, but maybe they could share a locker and maybe they could take one of the mandatory gym ,or French, or English, or humanities classes together.

 They could make it work. (She really hoped they could.)

 Bu those were problems and thoughts for later and so Evelyn buried them deep in her mind and instead focused on the upcoming ministry exams, the end of the school year, finding a dress for prom, memorising her lines for the end of year school play, finding time for her girlfriend and her friends, and everything else that came with being a senior in high school.

 --

 Emma decided to invite everyone over to her place, before they went to prom, to take photos and have cocktails, since she had the biggest yard between them. They agreed to meet up there and then make their way to the hall where the reception would take place.

 Despite Éliane asking, Evelyn had refused to show her any photos of her dress. Éliane had begged for hints, a description, anything, but Evelyn had remained tight-lipped, preferring to surprise her girlfriend at prom. Éliane had done her best pouting and pleading, but Evelyn was apparently immune to it all. Therefore, Éliane was an impatient mess when she got to Emma’s, eagerly anticipating the moment Evelyn would arrive.

 As per their plan, Evelyn had told her parents that she was going to prom with her friends, since “no boys had asked her” and her parents thought it was cute how the girls were sticking together. It was a perfect decoy and it meant that she could have all the photos she wanted with Éliane and her parents would never think twice about it.

 Éliane was about ready to text Evelyn, to ask her where she was and whether or not she had forgotten that they were supposed to meet up at Emma’s before heading to the reception hall, but then the doorbell rang and Éliane swore the entire planet froze in time when Evelyn walked in.

 Evelyn was wearing a midnight blue, long dress with cap sleeves that fell off her shoulders. It had a sweetheart bodice and a ruched waistline that did wonders for her figure and her complexion. The material of the dress was elegant and airy and it gave Evelyn a regal appearance.

 Her girlfriend was absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous.

 Her heart was going to explode from how full of love it was for Evelyn.

 Éliane did her very best to contain herself and not launch herself at Evelyn, but she did walk up to her and envelop her in the tightest of hugs she could manage, trying to convey everything it was she felt inside.

 “You are so breathtakingly beautiful,” She whispered in her ear as she pulled away. She grinned when Evelyn turned a lovely shade of pink and Éliane was far too pleased with herself.

 “And you’re absolutely stunning,” Evelyn murmured back, leaving a lingering touch to Éliane’s wrist, which left her skin tingling.

 Éliane had opted for something a little more party like. It was a champagne coloured, short dress with an asymmetrical bodice. It had one sleeve and bold folds that looked absolutely stunning on her. It was, after all, their prom, and she intended to party, dance and have the absolute greatest of times.

 Prom, delivered.

 The prom committee really outdid themselves, if Éliane did say so herself and it turned out to be a great evening. She got to sit with her best friends, got to dance with her girlfriend, took a stupid amount of photos with absolutely everyone she had ever spoken to during her five years in high school and only cried once – maybe twice, when she realised for good that this was her last few moments with these people – that one chapter of her life was closing and that a new adventure was right around the corner.

 But, before she got too lost in her own thoughts, there was still an after-prom, a million pool parties to attend and the greatest summer of her life to live.

 Most of the graduating class had decided to go camping for their after-prom, on some semi-remote campground a few hours away. The grounds promised privacy, no curfew, and a lax attitude towards underage drinking. Éliane had considered going, but then Emma had decided to do something a little simpler and had invited their group over to her place. Her parents would be out, they could pile up and sleep in the camper van in the backyard, eat all the junk food they could handle, talk late into the night, watch the stars and go swimming in the morning. The best part was that Mr. And Mrs. Dubois would even leave them alone, as they had decided to visit Mrs. Dubois’ sister back in Ottawa, which meant they had the whole place to themselves.

 They arrived at Emma’s place well past one in the morning and the girls were a flurry of activity as they changed into pyjamas and their graduating sweatshirts. High-heeled shoes, dresses and make-up were removed in favour of comfort as they crowded around each other to settle and keep the night going. Chips, cookies, candies, and soda were placed nearby as they munched on the snacks and laughed their worries away.

 It was nice, Éliane thought, and she secretly hoped that twenty years from now she would still be doing this with this same group of friends. Éliane tucked herself between Emma and Evelyn and found herself perfectly at ease. If time needed to freeze and stop and chose this particular moment to do so, she would be content.

 It didn’t, naturally, but Éliane found she didn’t really mind and was happy to snuggle up next to Evelyn when the sun started to rise and they could no longer keep their eyes open.

 “Love you,” She murmured into the folds of Evelyn’s arms and only registered what she’d said a moment or so later, when she felt Evelyn still beside her.

 She feared she’d let her mouth run wild once more and had an apology ready at her lips, but then she felt Evelyn hold her close and press a gentle kiss to the top of her head, “D’you really mean it?” She whispered for her ears only and Éliane nodded.

 “Yeah, I really do.”

 Evelyn smiled and it was a real thing of beauty that warmed her insides and made her heart soar. She levelled with her and sought her lips, before kissing her fully, “Love you, Evelyn,” She murmured, unable to stop herself from grinning.

 “I love you too, Éliane.” Evelyn whispered back, as if it was their secret alone.

 --

 Seeing as this was their last summer all together, Éliane made her mission to make sure they would see each other as often as possible and create the best summer memories. Therefore, there were many pool parties (and nothing had ever prepared her for the sight of her girlfriend – her Evelyn in the actual prettiest bikini ever made on God’s green earth.), a handful of parties and even though most of them had part time summer jobs, they made it work and by the time summer came to an end, Éliane was ready for the next chapter of her life.

 Cégep turned out to be an interesting and roller coaster of a venture. For as much as Éliane pretty much enjoyed it – liked the freedom it brought her, the expanded horizons of possibilities and being able to have classes that she genuinely enjoyed, Evelyn found it pointless and useless. It was a means to an end – something she had no choice in doing and the only thing that made it tolerable was the fact that Éliane was in many of her classes, they rode in or out together when their schedules matched and some of their friends from high school were also at the same school.

 Other than that, she absolutely abhorred the time she spent there and kept reminding herself that in two years time, it would be over. It seemed that just as she’d settled in to the rhythm of her new high school, she had been yanked out and forced to adapt to what she considered a waste of education.  Éliane made the mistake of pointing out once that maybe it had to do with her disengagement with her own program, but Evelyn shut down that theory rather quickly.

 Still, despite her foul mood and deep hatred for Cégep, Éliane did her best to cheer up her girlfriend, left little notes of encouragement in their shared locker almost every second day and thankfully, with Éliane and some of her friends by her side, she was able to coast through her first semester without burning the building down to ash.

 However, for as much as Evelyn had nothing positive to say about Cégep, she had to agree that the winter break between the first and second semester was delightful. There was a little over a month and a half of time off and even though she had a few exams during the exam period, she still had a good month of vacation. When she found out, sometime after midterms, a great plan hatched in her mind.

 The truth of the matter was that Evelyn missed Edmonton something fierce. She hadn’t been back since her family had relocated to Montreal and even though she liked her new life – it didn’t always feel like home. She missed her grandparents, missed her friends, and missed her favourite hangout spots.

 Therefore, Evelyn did her research, contacted the appropriate people, and once she had everything in order, she brought up the idea to her parents of flying to Edmonton after the holidays for three weeks. She would be staying with her grandparents, who were more than thrilled at the idea of having her over, she had enough money for her plane ticket from her summer job and she would be able to do all the things she missed and loved. Her parents weren’t exactly thrilled with the plan, but eventually they agreed.

 It was then that Evelyn launched part two of her plan, which was to ask Éliane to come over with her. (She had asked her grandparents as well, had explained that Éliane wasn’t just her friend – that they were a couple and thank goodness, they had been very accepting of that and thrilled at the idea of potentially meeting their granddaughter’s girlfriend.)

 Of course, Evelyn was very much aware of the fact that her girlfriend detested winter, would probably have preferred to go somewhere warm, if she could and Evelyn didn’t even know if Éliane would want to go to Edmonton with her, or if she had the means to do it, but when she told her of her plan, Éliane had been one hundred percent onboard.

 They bought their tickets together, the moment Éliane had the okay from her parents and then, at least, Evelyn could keep a countdown to not only the end of her first semester of hell-school, but also to the day she would be going back home to Edmonton – even if it was for a short while.

 The moment they arrived in Edmonton, Evelyn was ready to show her girlfriend all the sights. She had made an elaborate schedule, had contacted all her friends and she only hoped that Éliane would like it.

Of course, Éliane loved it all, even if she did complain about the cold at every chance she got, but Evelyn was always there to lend her a sweater, tie a scarf around her neck or let Éliane snuggle up to her at night.

 Éliane enjoyed the city and loved meeting Evelyn’s friends. It was nice to see her girlfriend’s old stomping grounds and Evelyn’s grandparents took to her right away, which they were both thankful for. It was nice being here and it amused Éliane to no end that their first trip as a “couple” was to Edmonton, something Evelyn thought wasn’t quite as exotic or romantic as it should be. Éliane told her they could make up for it at a later time – for their next vacation and the thought of that – of something that would happen in the future sent butterflies to Evelyn’s stomach.

 Overall, despite her lack of interest in Cégep, two years ended up going by quickly, somehow. Éliane liked to refer to those two years as Evelyn’s rebel phase, for it was during that time that Evelyn decided to learn how to ride a motorcycle (something Éliane absolutely loved very, very much – there was just something so incredibly hot about her girlfriend dressed in nice, tight leather pants with nice leather boots and an even nicer leather jacket mounting a motorcycle. Éliane called it sex on wheels. Evelyn always turned the loveliest shade of pink at the comment.)

 It was also during their stint in Cégep that Evelyn decided, one afternoon, while bored between classes, to get the upper part of her ear pierced. One of her classes had been cancelled, and she couldn’t go home, since she had another class after that. Since Éliane and her other friends were all unavailable, Evelyn had gone out for a walk, had passed by a tattoo and body piercing parlour and had decided to get it done, on a whim and out of boredom.

 Éliane had a lot to say about the piercing. Notably, that it was very sexy and added an extra layer of badass to Evelyn. Evelyn thought her girlfriend was being ridiculous – Éliane had shut her up with a kiss.

 And perhaps, the other thing that happened over the summer between their first and thankfully last year of Cégep was that their relationship reached a highly more physical level.

 They had – fooled around some ever since that memorable time towards the end of high school, but, nothing beyond wandering hands and heavy make-out sessions. Evelyn hadn’t been fully ready and Éliane had given her all the time she needed. There’d been some touching, a very few topless make-out sessions which had left Evelyn yearning for more, but something had always held her back. Maybe the fact that her parents and sister had been home, or that Éliane’s own family could walk in at any time.

 But there came a weekend over summer after their first year of Cégep, when Éliane had the whole house to herself. Her brothers were officially moved out, her sister had gone camping with her friends, and her parents had gone over to her mother’s friend’s cottage for the weekend. Éliane had invited Evelyn over to use the pool and there hadn’t really been any thought that this would happen over the weekend.

 Éliane had been sunbathing on one of the lawn chairs, when Evelyn had gotten out of the pool and walked towards her girlfriend, with the intention of flicking water in her face. Éliane had (over) reacted just the way Evelyn had hoped – shrieking and protesting that the water was so very cold, which had prompted Evelyn to drape herself over her girlfriend to flick even more water all over her.

 Éliane had tried to push her off and get away from her, but she had been trapped. Finally, Éliane gave up and Evelyn settled against her, content, with the sun warming her up and her girlfriend running a hand up and down her back. They’d stayed that way for a while, peaceful and quiet, until Evelyn had nuzzled her way to her girlfriend’s neck and had started leaving feather light kisses on Éliane’s neck.

 The feather light kisses turned languid and hot when Éliane let out breathy little moans and wrapped her legs around Evelyn’s body. Evelyn left Éliane’s neck in favour of her lips when her girlfriend started grinding against her and her hands left her back to slide underneath the straps of her bikini.

 Evelyn had never gone all the way with anyone – had never lain naked beside someone else, even though she had had her fair share of fantasies and had done a bit of self-exploration over the past few months. They’d talked it over, a few times, about their experiences and lack thereof and Evelyn had known, all along, that she could trust Éliane – that her girlfriend would respect her, no matter what it was that they did or didn’t do.

 And so, when they parted for air and Evelyn took in the sight of Éliane’s kiss swollen lips and mussed up hair, she felt a deep hunger for her that swooped at her belly and made her want to touch and lick and taste and kiss and feel.

 “Should we go to my room?” Éliane asked, her hand kneading the skin of Evelyn’s thigh, her fingers hitching ever higher, playing with the strings of the straps of her bikini. Evelyn nodded at that, disentangled herself from her, and then helped her up.

 They’d made their way to Éliane’s room and once Éliane had closed the door behind them – in case – she had pushed Evelyn to her bed and they’d resumed from where they’d left off before. Evelyn let her girlfriend guide them both and let go of her millions of thoughts running through her head. She followed her gut, paid close attention to Éliane’s reactions, and let her hands touch and feel, let her mouth kiss and taste.

 Evelyn marvelled at the goose bumps over Éliane’s breasts, over the texture of her nipple on her tongue and over every little sound and noise Éliane made, which Evelyn meticulously catalogued and memorised to later replay in her mind like a favourite song.

 This was an experience she had never felt before and one that she would love repeating over the many years to come - hopefully.

 And later, afterwards, as Evelyn lay with Éliane running her fingers through her hair, Evelyn couldn’t help but be thankful that somehow or other, despite not being keen over the move away from her beloved Edmonton, she had managed to find Éliane along the way. She hoped, as she shared a tender kiss with her girlfriend, that theirs would be a relationship that would last, and that if it didn’t, they could always remain friends.

 --

 The only thing that motivated Evelyn throughout their second – and luckily – last year of Cégep was the fact that she would be making university applications by the start of March. The drawback to that was picking which universities to apply. Éliane, once more, had her whole plan set out and her preferred university in mind. She was applying to one school and one school only, and if they didn’t accept her, then – well, her plan didn’t have a section for that, because she would get accepted. Evelyn envied her for that – was slightly jealous of the certainty and faith she had in her plan, even if she feared it would backfire on her. Not that Éliane didn’t have the grades or the talent for it, but there would be others who would be applying as well. Still, Éliane was convinced and Evelyn could only marvel at her.

 On the one hand, she could apply to the same place as Éliane again and go where she went, but Evelyn also wanted to go somewhere that would actually set her up on her desired career path. If she wanted to become an engineer, it would obviously help if she went to a university that was known for their engineering programs. The other problem was that after nearly three years, Evelyn was incredibly homesick.

 She liked Montreal just fine – was getting the hang of the city and its peculiarities, but – it wasn’t home. She missed her friends and family that were still in Edmonton, missed biking through the River Valley, and missed weather that actually made sense (to her). Therefore, on a whim, she decided to apply to the University of Alberta and figured that – if she got in – she could make her decision then and have that conversation with Éliane at that point. There was no need to cause alarm just yet.

 Evelyn kept telling herself that if she didn’t get accepted at the University of Alberta, then it would be a clear sign that she wasn’t meant to go back – not now anyways, and that would be that. It would make her life easier, Éliane would never need to know, and life would move on. However, every time she started thinking that way, part of her really hoped she would be accepted there.

 In the end, obviously, because life never played out the way she wanted it to, she was accepted at two of the three schools she had applied to – one in Montreal and the other one in Edmonton.

 Before she broke the news to Éliane, she sat herself down and made a rather long and elaborate list of all the pros and cons she could think of about attending both schools. The problem was that her number one con about going back to Edmonton was that Éliane would be in Montreal and her biggest con about staying in Montreal was that she really missed home and wouldn’t get to see it for god only knew how much longer.

 When she finally brought the list to Éliane – when she finally gathered up her courage for this conversation, her girlfriend was a little put off about having been left in the dark, if only because she didn’t like the idea of Evelyn going through this burden alone, but she was ready to find solutions.

 “I could get transferred to UofA; I’m sure they have an art program,” She said as she started tapping away at her phone, looking up the offered programs as though this was the easiest and most logical of solutions.

 “El, don’t – I mean, it’s not that I don’t want you to come with, but – you had a whole plan and you were super psyched about getting into UQAM. Plus, you even said, they only take a few people per year, so that means your portfolio was really good.”

 “Exactly. So if UQAM took me then it shouldn’t be a problem for UofA. I can apply to get transferred for winter term and then we can be together again.” She smiled brightly at that, closed off her phone as if the case was solved and shelved, but it didn’t sit well with Evelyn.

 Evelyn loved that Éliane was ready to drop everything to follow her, but at the same time, she knew her girlfriend was impulsive – that she came up with plans in a blink of an eye and didn’t always think the consequences through. She knew, deep down, that eventually, for as much as Éliane would be charmed by the city and enjoy it, she would feel like a fish out of the water. She wouldn’t have her friends, she wouldn’t have her sister and she wouldn’t have her bearings with the city.

 She knew that, for as much as Éliane liked to play the tough act, for as much as she was the life of a party, that deep down, she was very sensitive; that even if she made new friends (which she would) and even if she ended up loving her program, the pillars of her own life would be missing and it would slowly, but surely, eat at her. The last thing Evelyn wanted to do was make Éliane miserable and she didn’t Éliane to resent her for it, in the long run, either.

 She brought up these points to Éliane, but just as she feared, Éliane rebuked every one of her arguments, because on top of everything else, her girlfriend was absolutely stubborn.

 “But, if you’re all the way in Edmonton, that means a different time zone, I don’t get to see you as often and – you might never come back,” Éliane finally admitted, hours later, when it felt as though they were going around in circles with this discussion. She sounded small and – insecure and it was then that Evelyn realised that the real root of the problem wasn’t that Evelyn wanted to study outside of the city, it was that Éliane knew how much she missed Edmonton and Éliane feared she would never return once she went back.

 The real problem was that Evelyn, for as much as she wanted to reassure her that she would – that she’d go there for the length of the degree and then come back – wasn’t sure she could say so convincingly. Who was to say what would happen when she got there? Who was to say that she would find a job in Montreal post-graduation? Who was to say that she and Éliane would still be together that many years ahead?

 “Look, I don’t know what’s going to happen between now and then – but I want this to work, between us. I’m not running away to Edmonton to find some other girl or to replace you and I promise I’m going to do my best to make this long distance whatever work between us.” She started and gathered Éliane in her arms. Her girlfriend made herself small and buried her face in the folds of her sweater, taking in a deep breath, committing the scent of Evelyn to her mind, already knowing she would be gone within a few months.

 “I promise too,” Éliane added softly, not meeting Evelyn’s eyes, already fighting to keep the tears at bay, “I mean – I want this to work too and I want you to be happy, so do what you feel will make you happiest.”

 “But you make me happy, El,” Evelyn pressed a kiss to the top of Éliane’s head and that at least got a smile out of her, “I like having you around.”

 “And I’ll still be here – after you’re done, but I don’t want you to miss out on this opportunity. I don’t want you to have regrets, twenty years from now or resent me because in a way I kept you here – that you stayed back because of me.”

 “Are you sure?”

 Éliane nodded, “I’ll miss you. I already miss you. But we can still talk and text, yeah?” She asked as if it was a question – as if Evelyn wasn’t already thinking of having weekly video call dates, or something of the likes. She would be going from having Éliane around her nearly every day to being miles and miles apart. It would be a big adaptation – for both of them, but with Éliane’s blessing, Evelyn felt a little more confident that it would work out in the end.

 --

 Their last summer together was – different, if they were to compare them to the previous ones. Knowing that Evelyn would be gone by the end of it, Éliane made it a point to spend as much time with her as possible and to create as many memories – good memories, so that Evelyn would want to come back.

 No matter how many times Evelyn reassured her that she would return, Éliane was still a little worried that this was it – that Evelyn would move on, but she still put on a brave face and did her best to be supportive and happy for her. (Which she was – but, why did Edmonton have to be so far away?)

 On the day that she left, Éliane went to the airport with Mr and Mrs Murphy and did her utmost best not to cry in front of them. (There would be time later – when she was home and alone in her bedroom. She didn’t want to cause a scene at the airport. She didn’t want to be that person.)

 “I’ll be back before you know it.” Evelyn told her when they shared one last tight hug. Her voice cracked a little and she did her best to swallow her own tears that threatened to spill forth.

 “I promise I’ll try to come over reading week.” They’d talked of the possibility and Éliane had been firm when she’d said she’d come to Edmonton at any chance she had – anytime they had time off. Evelyn admired her determination, but felt her girlfriend had forgotten how expensive the plane tickets could get.

 “Love you,” Evelyn chose to say instead.

 “Love you more.” Éliane stepped back and let Evelyn go. She watched as her girlfriend exchanged one more hug with her family and then went to queue up with the other travellers. She waved and waved again and tried not to think about the gap she suddenly felt in her chest.

 University turned out to be much harder than Cégep, but Evelyn enjoyed it a lot more. It wasn’t always easy, but the work was much more challenging and she felt like she was actually advancing with life. She got to reconnect with her old friends, made new ones and the only thing missing – the only person missing to make it all the more perfect was Éliane.

 They made it a point to have weekly video calls, just like Evelyn had thought of before she left, but it wasn’t always easy to keep with their schedule, what with different time zones, part time jobs, school work and the myriad of other obligations that got in the way. Still, every time they did talk, Evelyn felt as though the missing puzzle piece to her life was slotted into place.

 And, for as much as they settled into their new routine, slowly got used to not being around each other (Evelyn liked to say that absence made the heart grow fonder), there came a time when Éliane started to really think that Evelyn had moved on. When she would stay up far too late and see her girlfriend post photos on social media, out with her new friends, having a jolly good time, and some ugly thing inside of her whispered that Evelyn was replacing her – that this relationship would fizzle out. It also didn’t help that with time zones and busy schedules, midterms and projects, their weekly video calls became shorter and were sometimes postponed or cancelled.

 Éliane tried to tell herself that it was normal, that Evelyn had a life out there, that she was busy herself, but the fear kept gnawing at her and she hated that she thought this way. Deep down she knew it wasn’t true, but no matter how hard she tried to convince herself, there was still always an ounce of doubt that stayed.

 Eventually, it crept up in a conversation, just before winter break and Evelyn hated that her girlfriend thought she wasn’t as interested anymore.

 “Sweetheart, no – look, I know it’s hard, I miss you – a lot, but I promise I really want this to work between us and if ever, for some really absurd reason, I wasn’t interested anymore, I would let you know. I would never string you along, okay? And even if I’m in class, or asleep, you can still message me – I’ll answer you later, just like we’ve been doing, alright?”

 Éliane nodded and wiped the tears away from her eyes. She hated that she couldn’t be strong – that something so trivial had gotten to her, but at the same time, hearing Evelyn say those words comforted her a bit, “I love you,” She said instead, because it was true and because sometimes it felt like her heart was too small to contain all the love she felt for Evelyn.

 “Love you more, you silly goose. And I miss you. And I’m looking forward to seeing you this summer.”

 Éliane smiled a little at that – at the promise of two weeks with Evelyn mostly all to herself. It wouldn’t be the same as the other summers, but she supposed they had to make do with what they got.

 “Thanks for listening,” She said.

 Evelyn smiled softly and touched the screen for a moment, “Of course – I’m always here for you, just like you’re always there for me.”

 It didn’t suddenly get better or easier after that call, but Éliane felt just a little less alone. She stopped worrying that she was being extra clingy and reached out to Evelyn whenever she felt she needed it. She didn’t hold back when she wanted to send her a message, even if it was a simple heart emoji and the wonderful thing was that Evelyn replied to every single one and would send them back as well.

 For the first time since Evelyn had left for Edmonton, Éliane felt a little lighter and started to believe that they would grow stronger from this and that they’d find a way to make it work. It was hard work, sure, she didn’t always like the distance, but it made her appreciate the time they had even more and because it was worth it to her – to the both of them, it pushed them both to keep working towards it.

 If Evelyn sent her a sweater of hers for Christmas, well, maybe, just maybe it became Éliane’s favourite and she compulsively wore it all the time over the following four years, even after it stopped smelling of her girlfriend.

 Éliane still considered transferring to UofA, or at the very least, doing an exchange for one semester, just to be with Evelyn for a few months. When she told Evelyn about it, she suggested to go somewhere different – not to hold back just because of her. She didn’t want her to miss out on some great experience or opportunity and settle for this out of some skewed sense of obligation. She could always visit her in Edmonton, but how many chances would she have to go literally anywhere else in the world? Evelyn threw back at her the same words and wisdom she had given her a year before and, with Evelyn’s blessing, Éliane applied elsewhere.

 In the end, she went to study art in Italy, for the length of her second semester. She loved every moment of it, fell in love with the people, the food, and the culture, and sent too many postcards to Evelyn, until her entire wall was full of them.

 To top it all off, since the school schedule in Italy was a little different, Evelyn even managed to surprise Éliane at the end of the term, when she flew in to spend some time with her, and they got to spend two weeks together in Italy.

 And, somehow or other, they made it through undergrad together, even if they weren’t always in the same city.

 --

 When Evelyn had to apply for her Master’s degree, she once more decided to apply to schools both in Edmonton and back in Montreal. After four years back home, she felt that she had found the catharsis and closure she had been looking for all those years, after her father had sprung the move on her back when she was in high school. On top of that, she had really missed Éliane and – to her biggest surprise, she had also missed her life in Montreal.

 She still wasn’t sure where she would eventually settle, how that would play with Éliane, but she figured, if she studied in Montreal, it would buy them both another two years before they had to figure it out.

 This time around, she was accepted to the better of the engineering schools in Montreal and so, she took that as a sign that moving back was the right course of action – at least for now.

 To absolutely no one’s surprise, Éliane was very excited when Evelyn broke the news of her decision to her, a few days later, once she had accepted the offer and weighed in all the pros and cons, and Evelyn had to admit that she was looking forward to going back – to picking up where things had left off and moving forward.

 She was still a little sad that she was leaving Edmonton behind yet again, but this time, it was on her own terms and she knew that she could always come back and that no matter where she lived or where she went, the city would always be part of her.

 Her first year back was – interesting, to say the least. For starters, she had to get used to living with her parents again, which seemed like a strange thing to say, but she had gotten used to staying with her grandparents during her undergrad degree. On top of that, the commute was different from what she’d known beforehand and sometimes, she cursed the suburbs. It was so very far away and there was so much wasted time.

 Another thing she had to get used to again, which was also a strange thing to say, was being around Éliane again – or at the very least, the possibility of being around her again more often. It took them a while to fall back into their regular old patterns, even if they were happy to be able to be together again. At first, Evelyn had worried that maybe being away for so long had changed her feelings for Éliane, but once they talked it over and figured things out, she settled in her new routine and got the hang of it.

 During that first year, Éliane moved out of her parents’ place and got one of her own, which Evelyn started spending more and more time at, since it was much closer to school and it also gave them more privacy than in their former bedrooms. She was there so often, in fact, that by the end of the first semester, she had her own spare key to the place, in case Éliane wasn’t around and she wanted to crash, and by the end of the second semester, Éliane casually asked her if she wanted to permanently move in with her.

 Evelyn had been surprised and shocked by the offer. She had thought about it, they had talked about it, but she hadn’t thought Éliane would ask her so soon. Then again, she supposed she hadn’t taken into account her girlfriend’s impulsiveness. Therefore, over summer break, Evelyn moved her stuff halfway across town and finally, she was settled in with Éliane.

 Her second and last year of her Master’s was just as interesting as her first and came with its own challenges and adaptations. For starters, there was the fact that she was now living with her girlfriend. For as much as it was great, for as much as she loved the idea of having a place that was her own and that she and Éliane could build together, there were also times when they’d find themselves butting heads over the most inane of things. It was a test and exercise in compromise, patience, and communication and even though they didn’t always get it right on the first try, they kept at it and eventually found solutions to their problems.

 Finally, eventually, she finished her program, somehow or other, and on graduation day, her parents, her sister, and Éliane were there to see her receive her diploma. There was something – oddly soothing about having them all there, about knowing that she could have this – that her parents were accepting and welcoming, that she had the chance and privilege to have this, when so many others did not.

 To celebrate the occasion, Mr and Mrs Murphy took them all out to a nice dinner and Evelyn thought it was the perfect ending to her academic career.

 It was only later, when they were back at their own place and her parents and sister had left that Evelyn received the surprise of her life.

 “I have a gift for you,” Éliane said, which surprised Evelyn, since her girlfriend had already given her a gift earlier that moment. Then again, Éliane was notorious for such things, so really, it shouldn’t have come as a shock. However, what did come as a shock was when Éliane walked up to her, got down on one knee and then proposed to her – ring and all – speech and hopeful smile included.

 And – they had spoken about this, before – had brought it up a handful of times under different circumstances; sometimes as a joke, other times seriously, but – it still took her by surprise for the simple reason that she hadn’t thought Éliane would ask her on the day of her graduation – or that Éliane would be the one to ask. If anything, Evelyn was convinced that she would have beaten her to it.

 She said yes, obviously, and Evelyn wondered if it was possible to bottle up the giddy feeling she felt inside of her and drink from it for the rest of her life.

 --

 Éliane put the photo album she’d been perusing down when she heard the front door open followed by Evelyn’s usual “I’m home!” She craned her head back in time to see her wife remove her motorcycle helmet and put it down before she passed a hand through her hair. Éliane couldn’t help but smile, fond and still so very much in love after all these years, as she watched one of her favourite daily spectacles.

 She greeted her back and then watched as her wife then removed her leather jacket and put down her messenger bag before removing her boots and making her way towards her. “Hi,” She said, smiling wider as Evelyn bent down to kiss her properly in greeting. They went through their daily exchange of “how was your day” and “you’ll never believe what happened when,” as Evelyn settled beside Éliane and made herself comfortable, slowly unwinding from her day.

 “What have you been up to?” Evelyn asked as Éliane carded her fingers through her hair.

 “I was doing some cleaning and stumbled upon our old high school album! Ended up doing a lot of reminiscing and got a little distracted,” She admitted with a laugh. Evelyn chuckled and rolled her eyes, far too used to her wife’s antics, but was nonetheless fond. Éliane was notorious for this, but it was endearing in its own way.

 “Yeah?”

 Éliane nodded and retrieved the aforementioned album from the pile of what turned out to be other photo albums and opened it up to a random page, “Look! There you are!” She said pointing at a photo of the theatre troupe.

 Evelyn took the album out of her hands and brought it closer to her face to get a good look, she groaned when she saw the photo, “Ugh, what was up with my hair?”

 “Hush you; you had very nice hair – you still have very nice hair,” Éliane reproached, taking back the album as though afraid Evelyn would say more bad things about her past self and somehow or other insult the album in the process.

 “You were very biased,” Evelyn teased, grinning wolfishly at her.

 “No – I just have impeccable taste.”

 Evelyn laughed and pulled her wife closer, despite her protests at being manhandled in such a way (even though they both knew it was mostly for show), before she pressed noisy kisses to the side of her face, “Very, very biased – so biased. So biased that there’s a photo of you beside the definition of the word, in the dictionary.” She went on, grinning, inches away from her lips, “The most biased, actually,” She added before kissing her softly. She felt Éliane cup her face and kiss her back, soft and pliant, and so welcoming and loving – like always, like it had been those first careful times what felt like a thousand lifetimes ago.

 “Just for you, darling,” Éliane murmured, moments later, when they parted to catch their breaths, “Always just for you.”

 Evelyn laughed and the sound of it thrilled Éliane who held her wife close, loving her more with each passing moment – with each breath she took. She still thrilled and marvelled that even so many years later, they still kept choosing each other, every single day and she knew that for as long as she lived, Evelyn would always have her.

 FIN

#pc: montreal #pc: edmonton #pc: fem!montreal #is that gonna be a tag now lamao #pc: fem!edmonton #evelyn murphy #éliane maisonneuve #au #fic #it's DONE

[codyfernmorelikedaddyfern]

Medicine - Jim x fem!reader // Part One

I’m doing this guys.

Multi part fanfiction on Jim losely inspired by multiple songs on my playlist. The whole thing is following Medicine by The 1975 but each chapters will have a different theme within it besides this one because it’s mainly exposition.

Description: In a desperate attempt to “make things work” in a marriage already shattered a decade ago, (Y/N)’s parents move in Palos Verde where she meets Medina, a newfound hermit like her.

Warnings: mention of dysfunctional/toxic relationships, alcohol and drug abuse.

Word counts: 1.6k+

She hated being the new kid in town. She hated the attention it brought to her as she wandered the confusing halls of her new school. She hated the eyes glued to her as she sat alone at her table at lunch. She hated having to introduce herself over and over again to her classmates. She hated the spotlight and the stares.

Her gentle footsteps carried her to the lockers, looking down at the 93 scribbled on her palm, scanning the metal doors and looking for the number she had been assigned to in the ocean of students pacing up and down the hall.

 “Hey, you’re (Y/N), the new girl, right, a gentle voice spoke behind your as you snapped out of your search.

- Oh, yeah, hi! She turned to the girl, probably around her age, standing next to her. We have classes together, don’t we?

- I think so, yes, I’m Medina.”

 With a friendly handshake and her best smile, the blonde girl helped (Y/N) locate her locker and settle. The next couple of classes where spent in hushed whispers and sassy comments about diverse people walking past them or throwing glances in their direction.

 The outcast had found another hermit with who she could moan about others with and it made their afternoon slightly more tolerable.

As the bell rang the end of the day, the two young women took their own paths home, Medina jumping on her bicycle and riding down the road aside a tall brunette. She had never mentioned a boyfriend but she didn’t know the blonde to take any sense of betrayal in her blood.

 Kicking up a stone or two on her way to the house she had barely got the chance to settle in, she was lost in her thoughts, trying to remember the information that had been unfurled in front of her throughout the day. The voice of her father welcomed her in the house. All she could see was the blinking colours spewing out of the TV and the back of the elderly man’s head on the couch as she climbed up the flight of stairs carrying her to her bedroom.

The door gently swayed closed as she sat at the brand new corner desk begging to be used. Unpacking her bag’s content on the desk, (Y/N) quickly worked on her tasks for the night after putting her favourite playlist on for motivation.

 Her gentle features bobbed to the beat of the music while she could hear the ocean’s harsh waves crashing on the rocks a hundred feet away from her window.

Her mother must have opened it during the day during her daily compulsive cleaning sessions. What a strange woman she was, the young one thought. After her father had caught his spouse in bed with another man, she had spun their world around and condemned herself to a life of a full time housewife, losing her mind in cleaning products and a pair of rubber cloves, the chemicals becoming some twisted medicine to her unfaithfulness.

 What a strange man her father was, accepting the multitude of apologies her mother webbed over the years. She had given up her work to tie herself to his will. As a child, her parents were the only idea of love she could base herself on which is mostly the reason of her own relationships failing. Her shifted idea of what a man and woman should act as when together was shattered when the time for her to have her first boyfriend came.

 And before she could remember the night said boyfriend broke her poor little heart, the creaking of her door pulled her out of her daydreaming, her mother standing in the frame. Her voice, raspy from decades of smoking, invited her to join them for dinner.

That’s one thing she hated too. The questioning. Yes, her day had been fine. Yes, she was making friend. Yes, her homework were finished. No, she hadn’t developed a crush on the neighbour yet. Her eyes rolled so far she fear it might disappear at the back of her skull.

 “We have been invited to a little gathering after dinner, would you care to join, the voice of her father pushed the clouded thoughts of her day out of the way.

- Sure, where is it?

- Down a few blocks, there will be a bonfire and you could bring your doodling stuff, the mother carried on.

- Yeah okay, I guess I could walk home if the adult talk become too boring, the teenager concluded as she pushed her last broccoli in her mouth, chewing on it for longer that she should.

- Great, we’ll be heading there when you are ready, sweetie”.

 The urge to roll her eyes once more was intense but she held back. The family dynamic had been broken all those years ago when the cat had gone out of the bag about her poor mother. Or poor father? (Y/N) didn’t know which one to pity the most. Their empty drive to “make it work” had smothered their daughter.

She found a way out in art. She would try her hands at any mediums. Sculpting was her favourite and she lavished herself in bringing bodies and forms to life from her nimble fingers, calloused and blistered by the hot clay. But what she was the best at was with a pencil.

 Many a sketchbook had been filled with grotesque cartoons and semi realistic portraits and stills. The comfort that sketching a frame of her vision on the blank pages somewhat made up for the lack of a mother or father figure, the two of them too busy trying to work on each other.

After shoving the dirty cutlery and plates in the dish washer, she jumped up the stairs and gathered her supplies before kicking her shoes on and following her parents to the car. There was no need for conversation as the vehicle sped down the empty streets and there was also no need for a car ride altogether.

 The smell of burning wood hit (Y/N)’s nose, offering a pleasant change from the brine and seaweed. Stepping out of the car, an unknown voice welcomed you to join the group of mingling adults at the back. A series of new introduction took place as her father shook hands with multiple strangers.

“You must be (Y/N), ‘the new girl’ Medina talked about. I’m Phil” his large hand reached forward for hers, which she shook while noticing that glint in his eyes.

The same sad glint she had seen in her father’s eyes. With the same palm, he quickly pointed to the large bonfire 200 ft forward on the beach. “She’s over there if you look for her” he mentioned causing her to whisper a quick thank you and darting towards the large dancing flames surrounded by a handful of teenagers.

 Once the sand pooled too much in her shoes and she cursed herself for wearing them, she quickly pulled them out, gingerly walking towards the only figure she recognised. Medina’s 6th sense must have been tingling because she turned around to the hesitant silhouette approaching, inviting her to sit by her side.

 “I didn’t think my dad meant it when he said you were invited tonight” the blonde suddenly blushed as the spot next to her got filled with her new acquaintance. Enquiring about the content of her Y/N, sparked a lengthy conversation about art and drawings, learning that the other outcast’s outlet was to surf with her sibling.

As if mentioning her twin was a magical incantation, his hazy body walked into view. The boy she had mistakenly assumed was the boyfriend your new friend was only his brother. He slumped next to her, his words slurred and somewhat jumbled while carrying the lingering smell of weed and booze.

 “Y-You’re not going to introduce me, he nearly choked, his head slumping forward in a playful wave.

- That’s (Y/N), she’s new here, she looked at her brother then turned to her friend, that’s my brother Jim, he’s… not new here.

- Very nice to meet you, his hand reached forward, sawing wildly.”

 Hesitantly shaking his hand, (Y/N) shared a somewhat worried look with Medina. His broad shoulders fell backwards in the sand while he gazed at the stars but her eyes were set on the display of the waves.

The blonde excused herself for a second, muttering she needed the bathroom, before her figure disappeared up the sandy slope to the house. The awkward tension thickened as the young woman felt Jim’s gaze read her features.

 She was not the conventional type of pretty. But damn did she look gorgeous as the amber lights of the flames licked her skin somehow highlighting her flaw in an array of beauty. It was probably the alcohol clouding his mind or most likely the drugs fogging his eyes. Fishing out her notepad, she started to stain the pages of her notebook with the beauty of the ocean she was witnessing as the moon was coasting on top of the waves.

The gentle footfalls of Medina brushed against her ear while (Y/N) consumed the night, her nose stuffed in her pencils and charcoals, the conversation between the twins losing itself in the blur of her focused gaze darting between the water and the her paper.

 How could he focus on the words leaving his lips when this otherworldly apparition was so deeply enthralled in her mind? Her fingers greyed and stained by the lead she was smearing on the pages. And he noticed it. That broken glimmer in her eyes. Because she was broken too, maybe more than he was himself but in her own beautiful way. And maybe he could fix her. For a split second where her eyes fell deep within his, the haze of his inebriated mind, he sobered up.

_________________________________________________

Taglist anyone?

#jim mason #jim mason x reader #tribes of palos verdes

[melyaliz]

Scribbles

Fandom: Marvel / X-men Movies 

Summary: Soulmate AU where whatever they write on their skin goes on their soulmates and person A keeps drawing dicks because they think it’s funny that they will show up on person B.  and person B having to constantly cover them up and like “who the FUCK is this asshole!”

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x OC 

Notes: First off yes, I know I have a few requests and this isn’t one of them but… I was inspired (Like 8 pages inspired) 

Gemma is my new oc that I am working on at the moment I’ll probably post her character sheet soon plus MAYBE finish her full story. 

Anyway, she grew up in a pretty christen household (thinking she may be a pastor's daughter) And I totally HC that Peter is TOTALLY the kind of guy who would draw on himself. 

So the image of like Gemma having to go to church with a HUGE dick on her arm and has to wear a sweater in summer and stuff was just too funny to pass up on. 

I honestly didn’t know how to end this so I just kind of did?

Promise requests will be coming soon :D 

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive​​

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

———--------------------------------------------------

Peter had already been suspended from writing on textbooks and his desk and with his notebook confiscated there was nothing left but his arm. 

 Freedom of expression man.

Plus the monster eating the freckle on his left arm was tiring out really good. 

“Mr. Maximoff, do you have anything of value to add to our discussion today?” 

“Huh?”

“That’s what I thought.” 

Peter frowned his brown eyes scanning the board for a moment taking in the information before glancing over at Karen’s notes. Pride and prejudice was as boring as it sounded. Wasn’t that kind of a chick book anyway?

“Yeah, I’m good” Peter added putting his hands behind his back as his teacher his arm and art clearly visible for the teacher to see just to prove his defiance to this book. 

However, the teacher didn’t react and just went back to the front of the class.

Confused Peter looked at his arm. 

It was blank. 

-*-

“Gemma what did you do to your arm!?!” 

Gemma glanced down at her arm, the sleeve of her rolled up Catholic school uniform visibly showed the dark drawings of monsters eating helpless woman. “Uhhh I…”

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you go to that Iron Maiden concert,” her mother and school’s math teacher said grabbing her daughter pulling her toward the bathroom. “Your body is a temple” 

“Mom I promise? I have no idea how I got this!” 

Her mother paused for a moment looking down at her daughter’s arm, the permanent dark images now bleeding down her pale skin making them look even more grotesque. 

“I wonder…” 

“What Mom?” 

“So you didn’t draw on yourself?”

“I mean I have before but this isn’t me I’m not this good. Honest, I know it sounds crazy but it just showed up after science. Bobby was laughing about it and I was so confused.” Gemma adding a little More soap to her arm blowing away a few strands of her white-blonde hair out of her face, “besides I’m not stupid enough to draw demons on my arm at a Catholic school”

“It could be your soulmate” 

“Huh?” Gemma turned to her mom who was now rummaging in her bag for something. Once she found it she pulled out her pen handing it to her daughter.

“Write something”

“What happened to my body is a temple?” 

“Too late now” her mother laughed motioning to the melting monsters. “Go ahead”

“What should I draw?” Nerves bubbling up inside her. Weird how nervous you can suddenly get. 

“Anything you want.” 

Growing Gemma placed the pen to her skin pausing for a moment trying to think about what to draw. 

HELLO 

-*-

Bold block letters running down the length of his arm stopping at his wrist. Peter had already gotten a detention slip for mouthing off to his teacher and was now tapping his pencil on his desk as he sat there. Board out of his mind… until now. 

Curious he glanced down at his arm looking over the words now scrolled boldly over his arm. 

Interesting. 

“Maximoff are we going to have a problem?” 

“Nope” came the distracted respond as Peter slowly drew a question mark behind the Hello.

-*-

?

A simple question mark drew itself next to one of the monsters making him look more inquisitive than scary. Gemma bit her lip trying not to laugh during her English class. 

Poor little guy, he was more confused that she was. Probably wondering why she had tried to erase him from her arm. 

-*-

 Could you not use a permanent marker? These monsters will never come off. 

Neat full circles looped across the top of his arm before one of his monsters came back to him in bright pink sharpie. Obviously traced. 

Oh, it’s on. 

Pulling out his VERY permanent maker Peter started to draw. 

-*-

“Shit” Gemma hissed as the huge dick and balls appeared on her hand. The shaft stretching from her hand down to her wrist. 

“Miss Gemma? Is there something you would like to say to the class?” 

Quickly she hid her hand under her desk “nope.” 

“What are you hiding?” 

“Nothing sister”

“Then pull up your hands” as Gemma slowly planted her hands on the desk the nun gasped “GEMMA!” 

“It’s not me!”

“Who else would do that? And when because I don’t remember seeing any phallic images on you before” 

“I…” 

“Detention” 

Tossing her books and supplies into her backpack Gemma stood up walking off to detention, Sister Maryann stopped her handing her a bar of soap. Gemma looked down at it wondering where in the hell she had even been hiding that. Although Sister Maryann was known for washing kids mouths out with soap when they “took the Lord's name in vain” so maybe this was the mouth soap. 

-*-

Actual size Bold thick and large lettering hung over a small dick laying limp on the same hand he had drawn his own gorgeous penis drawing. 

Which of course, appeared right as he was flirting with Suzie, the cutest girl in school. 

“You have something on your hand…” the pretty brunette said nodding toward Peter’s hand which was holding her own as he “explained” the best way to use a joystick on the newest arcade game that had been put in across the street from their high school.   

“Are you kidding me!?!” Peter said pulling his hand quickly away, “Freak used permanent marker too”  

“What did it say?” Suzie giggled trying to get a look at his hand as her jock boyfriend walked up throwing an arm over her. 

“What up Petey?” 

“His hand just got this weird mark on it.” 

“Oh really?” 

“Yep, got to go, see you both later fellow classmates,” Peter said saluting before dashing off probably a little faster than he should have. 

“This asshole” he hissed as he quickly ran his hand under the water trying to rub it off face slightly flushed with embarrassment over having the girl of his dreams see it. And they had been getting along so well too!

Oh it was on now. 

-*-

“This asshole” Gemma laughed as she scrubbed her arm with the hard bar of soap. Leave it to Sister Maryann to have the magic cure for something that shouldn’t be cured. While her hand was now rubbed raw from scrubbing, the large dick was no longer scrolled across her hand and the monsters were all but faded away. 

Letting out a triumphant laugh she looked into the mirror a huge smile on her face. 

Which faded into shock as her reflection looked back at her. 

Her face with a huge twisted mustache drawn across her upper lip. 

“SON OF A BITCH!” 

Soulmate my ass. This person was the devil incarnate. 

-*-

Nothing. 

Peter checked everywhere, even stripping down to make sure there wasn’t anything written on… his precious bits. 

But no. Nothing came up.

Guess he had won. 

Something he through of proudly as he continued to doodle across his arms and legs. He never wrote on his face again and kept things mostly contained.

Although he would draw the occasional risque image in a fun place just to see if he would get a reaction. 

Not that he cared.

Not that it mattered.

It wasn’t like the thought of having someone out there that he could always talk to, was always there no matter what was something he wanted. 

Nope, not at all. 

Although when the cuts and bruises started to form he got a little worried. They got worse as time went on. Large hand size bruises and burns running all over his body. It was as if whoever that was on the other side was part of some fight club or something. 

During that time was the only time he truly addressed them.

Are you ok? 

-*-

Gemma rubbed her arm nervously as she walked through Xavier's school for gifted children. Led by the man himself it, Charles Xavier. 

She didn’t belong here, among the heroes. After being brainwashed to become nothing more than a weapon in some twisted man’s army Gemma felt like the silly catholic school girl who had a closeted love for Heavy Metal music was like a stranger to her. In her place was this strange woman now walking through a fog of uncertainty. 

The words Are you ok had almost faded from her arm but she had refused to wash it away. It had been a reminder that morning that something may have been wrong. That maybe those strange dreams she was having and those wounds she was waking up with were maybe not just nothing. 

That small warning that had been the tipping point. An almost literal wakeup call that had ended with her coming to this place filled with other mutants. People who had helped set her free from her prison. Break free from the mind control she had been under.

And faced with the reality of what she had unknowingly done under that man’s control she had no idea where to go from there. 

Where did she belong?  

-*-

It was faint but Peter saw it as she pointed toward the library asking Charles a question. Faded little gray letters, rushed and fast, scribbled across her underarm. 

He didn’t need to know what they said, he already knew. 

-*-

Turn  Around

Gemma blinked in confusion as the bold messy words flashed onto her hand. 

What? 

How?

Turning she saw him, the speedster, Peter, standing a few feet behind her, a permanent marker in his hand with a huge smile on his face.

“Hello.” 

Shock. 

It washed over her like cold water.

For years she had wondered who that total ass was who had continued to plague her body with drawings. Her once perfect record marred with endless visits to the principle and detention. Gemma had always been a fly under the radar kind of girl, just be middle of the road and go unseen. Yet all those colorful drawings and even more colorful words had made her stand out in ways she had never dreamed of. 

Who was that person? Why were they doing this? How come they didn’t seem to care? After all, it was clear there was someone else was getting marred by those drawings.

A million questions flew through her mind and even more memories. 

Yet nothing seemed to come out.

“Bet you never thought you would be this lucky,” Peter said running his fingers through his silver hair. “I mean you basically hit the jackpot of soulmates.” 

“You…” her hands flickered with energy, emotions building up inside her spilling out, “total ASS!” 

Peter went flying across the hallway as she shot him, not enough to hurt him just kind of give him a taste of what he had been doing to her for the past 8ish years. 

“Could you two maybe…. I guess not” Charles groaned as Gemma’s second blast missed a much wiser Peter, blowing up a beautiful 16th-century vase.

“It took me a WEEK to wash off that stupid dick you drew across my chest! And that during prom weekend” 

Peter was laughing as he grabbed Gemma taking her outside where they could hash this out somewhere safe. 

“So what kind of dress did you wear to prom?” Peter asked looking her over trying to picture it, a cute little red (or maybe blue to match her eyes) dress with a big of black dick drawn up her chest the tip peeking out of the collar.

“A cardigan thanks to you.”

“Awww what’s the fun in that?” 

“I went to a Catholic school.” 

Peter stood there for a moment the image of her in a little catholic uniform covered in his demon and phallic drawings was just…

Perfect.

“Jesus Christ you didn’t!?!” he doubled over laughing as she watched him trying to fight back a smile. Honestly, after everything she had been through the memories of her trying to scrub off little devils and titties off her arms and legs felt almost… 

Comforting. 

As annoying as they were, those drawings had kind of been comforting. They set her apart, let her know (as weird as he was) there was someone out there that was all her’s. Yes the dicks and the tits were annoying but there were also some pretty cool song lyrics that had helped her to discover music she hadn’t heard before. 

He was like her annoying little secret that broke out away from the everydayness of her very normal life.  

Plus she had to admit, it was a pretty funny image looking back. 

Not that she would EVER admit any of this to him. At least not right now. 

“You owe me big.” 

“Oh, Gemma I promise, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

“Why do I get the feeling your idea of making it up to me is going to be different than what mean?” 

“Maybe being soulmates always means you can read my mind?” he said leaning forward wagging his eyebrows. Gemma couldn’t help but laugh up at him as he took a step back holding out his hand.

“Friends?” 

“Friends.” 

As she took his hand Gemma had a feeling that much like the first time those little monsters appeared on her arms, her life was going to be filled with many more surprises. 

-GET TAGGED!- 

Tagging: @royslittleharper​​​  @the-shadow-of-atlantis​​​ @coffee-randomness​​​ @daisyboobear​​​ @nilthanious​​  @jason-redhood​​ @hello-i-lovespiderman-blr​ @ocelysium​ @pinkwitch21 @tomhncharliep

#peter maximoff #Peter Maximoff x oc #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x you #Peter Maximoff fanfic #Peter Maximoff soulmate AU #Soulmate AU #X-men Soulmate AU #X-men x oc #x-men x reader #x-men x you #Gemma #The Thief and the Outlaw #Honestly #not sure how I feel about it #but it is what it is #I'll keep working on her and see what her voice is #my writing #my oc #my story