#DEVS KEEP AN EYE OPEN WHEN YOU GO TO SLEEP TONIGHT. WE WILL MEET YOU IN JERSEY. FUCK YOU.

[ratatatastic]

im coping very normally after that loss if youd like to know

[annab-nana]

Flowers Of Forgiveness - Colby Brock

You and Colby had known each other for five years, dated for two, and you’d think he would remember your birthday, right? Wrong and with birthdays being such a big deal to you, it hurt like hell. He messed up big time and it might be the last straw before your relationship crumbles unless he can manage to save it.

Requested by an amazing anon 💙

Warnings: some curse words; mentions of alcoholic parents

Word Count: 2.1k+

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

You look around the table to see who all is there. Tara is to your right, then it's Jake, Kevin, Reggie, Cassie, Devyn, Xepher, Griffin, Sam, Katrina, Corey, Mike, Aryia, and then there was an empty seat to the left of you. Colby's seat. You don't know why he isn't here yet. He couldn't have forgotten, could he? No, because last week he told you he cleared up his schedule for your birthday. So, where the hell was he?

"Excuse me for a second, guys. I am going to call Colby really quick to see where he is," You say as you stand up and walk out the front door of the restaurant.

"Hey babe!" you hear his chipper greeting flow out of the phone.

"Hey Colbs! Where are you?" you question. He must have got in some bad traffic and is just being held up a bit.

"I'm at my apartment, catching up on some Unus Annus videos." Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. He forgot your birthday. You had originally thought he was just being annoying or was trying to hide a surprise or something when he didn’t text you about it and avoided saying 'happy birthday' all day long. But he wasn't. He had forgotten it completely.

"Oh." The only response that came to mind spills out of your mouth.

"Yeah, what are you up to, babe?" He asks so nonchalantly.

"Um, I'm just out with the girls and wanted to check up on you. But I will let you get back to your videos," you say as tears brim your eyes. Your boyfriend of two years forgot your birthday.

"Okay, I'll talk to you later." You blink the tears that threaten to spill over away.

"Yeah, I might swing by your place before I go home. Talk to you later. Bye." Ending the call, you take a deep breath to calm yourself before heading back in.

"Okay, so Colby is just running late. He got caught up with some work stuff, but he'll be here soon," you lie as you sit down. You don't want to make the dinner awkward by saying that Colby forgot. You just want to enjoy the last bit of your birthday with the people who actually care enough about you to remember your birthday. You all order your food and talk and have a good time.

"I have to go to the bathroom. Y/n, wanna come with?" Tara asks. You nod before standing with her and following her to the restroom.

"Colby isn't coming, is he?" She asks as soon as the door shuts.

"No," you tell her the truth as the tears come back. "We've been together for two years. Friends for three before that and he just forgets. He has never forgotten before and he knows how much it hurts me when someone close and important to me does. My parents didn’t care enough to celebrate my birthday when I was younger which is fine, but Colby told me he would never do that to me. But here we are. He forgot."

"Oh y/n," Tara whispers as she pulls you into her tiny frame. "I am sure there is some reason for this, and you know better than I do that he is an idiot most of the time."

"Yeah," you laugh before going to the mirror to make sure that the few tears that did manage to escape did not mess up anything.

"I lied so that I wouldn't make anything awkward," you inform her as the two of you head back to the table and she nods understandingly. When y’all get back, the food had arrived, so you all eat. You thank everyone for coming as you leave the restaurant.

"Happy birthday y/n. I hate that Colby couldn't make it," Aryia tells you as he pulls you in for a goodbye hug.

"Yeah, traffic got the better of him, but we'll be doing something tomorrow," you lie again as you pull away from the embrace. After receiving many hugs and happy birthdays, you get in your car to go to Colby's.

Knocking his door, the anger and sadness in you boil. He swings the door open and lays his eyes on you, noticing how angry and upset you are.

"What happened babe?" He says as he opens the door wider to let you in. You walk in and turn to face him.

"What do you think happened?" you question him. His face drains of color as he thinks back on everything he has done to figure out what has set you off.

"Sweetie, I really don't know. Just tell me what I did," he pleads, completely oblivious to what was wrong.

"Did you forget something?" Again, he goes through everything he can think of and is stumped.

"I don't think so. I-"

"You aren't forgetting anything special. Like a holiday or someone's birthday..." you trail off, trying to get it through his thick skull.

"No, your birthday is tomorrow, and Kevin's is next week-"

"Oh sorry. I didn't realize my birthday was tomorrow. I thought it was on June 17th like it always has been for the past twenty or so years, but I must be mistaken," you sarcastically spit out. At this point, you were fuming.

"No, your birthday is on Thursday which is tomorrow," he retorts as you roll your eyes.

"Where is your phone? Have you been on that thing at all today? Normally your eyes are glued to it," you ask him. You can tell he is getting angrier with you, but at this point, you don't seem to care.

"No, I was taking a day away from my phone. I only answered important calls or texts but that was it," he informs you as he walks to where his phone was in his room.

"Tell me what today's date is, Colby."

"It's June 16th, I know it is because..." His voice fades out. He comes out of his room with his eyes on his phone.  "It's the 17th," he states bluntly before looking up to meet your sad and angry eyes.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry. I-"

"No Colby. You know how much birthdays mean to me. You know that. Do you know how embarrassing it was tonight when I was at dinner with all of our friends and the person who means the absolute most to me doesn't show? I hated being there and I couldn't even enjoy it because you weren't there."

"Did you tell them I forgot?" He asks me as he sits down on the couch, all ashamed.

"No, I didn't. Instead, I lied to all of them, but it was not to protect you and your feelings. It was for them so that they didn't have to feel awkward or feel bad for the girl that they were supposed to be celebrating. I told them you were caught up with work stuff and then got caught in traffic and couldn't make it. But Tara still figured it out. She was right. You are a damn idiot."

"No, I'm not!" He fights back as he rises to his feet in anger.

"Yes, you are," you laugh at him. "My parents even told me happy birthday this year Colby. They haven't done that since I was five. I guess they weren't drunk off their asses enough to forget it this morning." You take a breath before continuing.

"You must've not checked the group chat. They were all going off about my birthday and the dinner tonight. And you weren't on Twitter or Instagram either because then you would have seen your fans wishing me a happy birthday as well. People who don't even fucking know me knew my birthday was today."

"Y/n, I'm sorry. I don't know what to do."

"There's nothing you can do. You can't replace the feeling I have of not feeling good enough. You of all people know that when my parents forgot my sixth birthday, I was crushed. Then they forgot year after year after year. Then I met you and all of your amazing friends and you guys have made me feel so special and loved, especially on my birthday. You know that on anyone else's birthday, I make sure that they feel so loved and cared about because I know what it feels like to not be."

"I'm sorry, babe. I didn't mean to forget. It just happened."

"Wow Colby, that makes me feel so much better. You know what? I am sorry. I probably sound like such a diva for getting upset about this, so I'm gonna go-"

"No y/n, please don't go."

"I'm going to leave and go back home. Probably cry myself to sleep? I don't know. We'll see." You place your hand on the doorknob.

"I've noticed how you never miss a beat when it comes to work stuff. But this isn't the first time you've forgotten something with me. It's just the first time it was something important. Get your priorities straight Colby if you want to keep me around." And with that, you leave his apartment, get in your car, and head home.

After walking in, you do exactly what you didn't want and start crying. You slip out of the clothes you were wearing and wipe off all your makeup. Throwing your hair into a messy bun, you walk to your phone to see the many messages and missed calls from Colby which you choose to ignore. The constant buzzing gets on your nerves so much that you turn the damn thing completely off before falling asleep.

…

"Oh, I'm so sorry, y/n," Devyn says as she walks into the living room with a bowl of popcorn. She had texted you last night when you had your phone turned off because of Colby and was asking if you were okay. She knew you were lying about the work and traffic stuff too. You called her this morning and asked her to come over because you were in need of some girl time, especially with your Dev, and she happily obliged. You told her all about it, providing the details of your past and all, and then you two decided a movie would make you feel better, specifically your favorite Moana.

"Yeah it sucks, but I'm going to give him a few days. I'll still like text him and stuff. I just don't want to see him for a bit," you tell her as the movie begins. The two of you sit back and enjoy the movie and popcorn until a knock at the door interrupts you.

"I'll get it," you huff as you make your way to the door before looking through the peephole to see the last person you wanted to at the moment.

"Colby," you mouth to Devyn. She nods, pausing the movie and skipping into your room. You open the door just enough for him to see you but that's it.

"Hey," you speak softly. You know you probably look like shit, but you honestly do not care. He should see how he made you feel.

"Hey, umm, y/n, I am really sorry and I-" you couldn't help but notice him steadily trying to peek behind you. Does he actually think you have some guy over or something? Is he really that jealous and think that low of you?

"Forgetful and jealous? Man, you really have changed Colby."

"No, I'm... never mind. I am here to apologize. I was a shitty boyfriend yesterday. I still am one today and I'll probably never be the best boyfriend in the world, but I will continue to try to be the best I can be for you. I know this isn't much at all, but it is something. It shows I pay attention to some details," he says as he pulls a bouquet of flowers out from behind his back.

After getting a better look at them, you notice that they are daffodils, your grandmother's favorite flower which became your favorite flower. You might have mentioned that once, maybe twice, but it was a long time ago. The fact that he remembered it warmed your heart. You smiled at him before taking the flowers from his grasp.

"You aren't completely off the hook, but I forgive you. Come here," you say as you pull the blue-eyed boy into your arms, wrapping them around his neck. His arms snake around your waist and lift you off the ground slightly.

"So, I haven't lost you yet?" He questions in your ear and you giggle into his before he sets you down. You bring the hand that wasn’t holding flowers to cup his face.

"Nope, but I suggest you don't forget my birthday again," you whisper as you place a small kiss on his nose.

"I won't. I promise. Your birthday will forever be engrained in here," he tells you as he taps on the side of his head.

"Oh yeah, what day is it?"

"June 23rd?" He jokes and you roll your eyes.

"That's Kevin's birthday sweetheart."

[angelsfalling16]

Chapter 3 of Just Wanna Be Happy

Chapter One

Read on ao3

Summary: After a night of drunken party games, Baz tries to remember what happened and whose number is on his arm while also dealing with the fact his two best friends aren’t talking to each other anymore.

Word Count: 2076

***

Simon

Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to this game, I think as the first person spins the bottle. There isn’t anyone here that I particularly care to kiss, but somehow, I ended up agreeing to play it anyway. Luckily, the bottle doesn’t land on me and I’m safe. For the moment at least.

Everyone else seems to be much drunker than I am, including Baz, which is surprising because he’s always so put together. It’s weird to see him just let go like this.

I’ve been watching him quite a bit tonight, and as the night goes on, he seems to loosen up more and more. I was surprised that he decided to play the game. This kind of thing seems beneath him.

I’ve had one drink that I’ve been sipping on all night, but I’m beginning to think that I’m a little too sober for this and wish that I had drunk more. Everyone else is happy and cheering, and I seem to be the only person hoping the bottle doesn’t land on them. I’m not sure what I’ll do when it’s my turn to spin.

Penny is sitting a few people down from me, and when she spins, it lands on me. We move towards each other and kiss each other on the cheek. A few people boo, but I just shrug and return to my seat and watch the rest of the game go on.

Baz’s friend, Niall, is next, and when he spins it, the bottle lands on their other friend, Dev. I expect their kiss to be as innocent as mine and Penny’s just was, but I’m shocked when they kiss full-on and stay locked together like that for so long that a couple of people begin to shift uncomfortably. Finally, someone pulls them apart.

I watch curiously as Niall whispers something to Dev and they both stand up and leave the game, disappearing into a corner of the room to be alone. Baz nods at his cousin with a raised brow, and a few people cheer, making me wonder if they were one of those couples that everyone except those two saw coming.

Must be nice. I wish that I was that in love. Sadly, I’m alone.

When it comes my turn to spin, the bottle lands on a girl I barely know, and we kiss briefly before the game continues on. It isn’t as nerve-wracking as I thought it would, but it also isn’t pleasant. I take another sip of my drink.

I watch various other pairings kiss, and a few lone people trickle away, either to get a drink or tired of kissing people they don’t like.

Baz has kissed three people so far. Two of them were guys, one of whom he kissed for an unexpectedly long time, much longer than either of the other people. The kiss with the girl was chaste and barely a kiss at all. I don’t know why I find this such an interesting an observance, but I begin to wish Penny was sitting next to me so that I could talk to her about it. (Though, she’d probably accuse me of being obsessed with him again.)

I’m just about to leave the game, too, when it’s my turn to spin again. I sigh. One more kiss can’t be that bad. I watch the bottle spin round and round in the middle of the circle before it begins to slow. I keep my eyes on it the entire time, and when I look up to see who it landed on, I just barely keep myself from gasping aloud.

Baz.

We silently move towards each other, meeting in the middle of the circle, and I’m almost certain that he’s about to hit me rather than kiss me. He’s looking at me the way that he does right before he starts a fight, and I brace myself for the impact of his fist.

But then he’s leaning closer to me, his eyes falling shut, and my heart does this little flutter.

It’s a weird feeling. It’s definitely not how I’m supposed to feel when the guy who hates me is about to kiss me, but in all honesty, I don’t hate him back.

It’s quite the opposite actually. Not that I’ve ever told anyone that. I haven’t even told Penny yet. Agatha and I just broke up not too long ago, and Baz hates me anyway. I don’t see a reason for anyone to know about how I feel. It’s not like anything will ever come of it.

This one kiss is the closest I’ll ever get to actually being in a relationship with Baz, so I lean in to meet him, my fingertips pressed to the floor both to steady me and to keep myself from fisting the front of his shirt and pulling him closer.

His lips are incredibly soft when they meet mine, and I jut out my chin to kiss him more firmly. He pushes back, and I’m pleasantly surprised by the fact that he hasn’t pulled away yet. The kiss lasts just a little bit longer than I expected it to, but Baz still pulls away sooner than I want him to.

I don’t look at him as I return to my seat, thinking that it’s about time that I quit the game. I stand up, running my fingertips lightly over my tingling lips. I want to remember that moment forever. Kissing Baz was better than I ever could have imagined.

A part of me wants to stay in the game in the hopes that I’ll get to kiss Baz again, but I don’t want to risk the chance of kissing someone else. The game has dwindled down to just a handful of people anyway.

The rest of the game breaks apart soon after I quit. The party is beginning to wind down, and I’m waiting on Penny to say goodbye to someone so that she can take me home when I catch sight of Baz out of the corner of my eye. He’s watching me not so surreptitiously, and I decide that I want to take a chance. If it doesn’t go well, I can always say that I was drunk. (Even though I’m not.)

Before I can move, though, he starts making his way over to me. He’s got this look of determination on his face, and I think that he’s chosen to hit me after all. He stops just in front of me and doesn’t say anything for a long moment.

“Hey, Baz,” I say, shifting my weight awkwardly, unsure of what’s happening.

He shakes his head, and before I can ask what that means, his hands are on my hips, and he backs me into a wall. He still doesn’t say anything, but then he’s leaning down, and I gasp as I realize what he’s doing.

He kisses me, and I’m not sure what this means, but I kiss him back. After a moment, I feel his tongue run along my bottom lip, and I part my lips to allow him in. When his tongue wraps around mine, I can taste the alcohol on him, and I realize the only reason he’s doing this is because he’s drunk.

That knowledge hurts, and I’m just about to push him away when he pulls back on his own.

“Goodnight, Simon,” he murmurs, and just like that, he’s gone, leaving me standing there feeling dazed and confused.

“What was that about?” Penny asks, stepping up beside me a moment later.

“I think I have feelings for him.” It’s not really an answer to her question, but I needed to tell someone the truth. I’m tired of keeping it locked up inside me.

“Does he share that sentiment?” She asks, her eyes falling on where he’s standing a few feet away.

“No idea.”

“Did you at least give him your number or something?” Leave it to Penny to be sensible.

“No.”

She rolls her eyes. “Here.” She pulls a permanent marker out of her bag and hands it to me. (It’s amazing how many odd things she can carry in that bag.) “Go give it to him before he leaves.”

I jog over to Baz, and without a word, I reach for his arm and scribble my number there. I write ‘call me’ underneath, and because I’m an idiot, I add a little heart. I think about writing my name there as well, but if he’s too drunk to remember that it’s me tomorrow, then it’s probably for the best.

I turn away before he can say anything, and I follow Penny out the door, a small grin building on my face. This night has given me a bit of hope that I never thought I would have.

***

I ended up crashing at Penny’s house last night. Sleeping on her bedroom floor was better than going back to my current foster home. They probably didn’t even notice I was gone. I can’t wait until we graduate and I can move out on my own for university.

I got up early this morning to leave, though. It’s always too crowded in her house, and I didn’t want to intrude more than I already had. I tried to get Penny to come with me to get breakfast, but she said that she planned to spend the entire day in bed.

I step inside the diner a few blocks from Penny’s house, and it’s packed, which isn’t too surprising for a late Saturday morning, but there aren’t any tables open. Even all the seats at the bar are taken.

Deciding to wait a few minutes to see if a spot opens up, I glance around the restaurant. That’s when I see Baz and his friends sitting in a booth at the far side of the diner.

I know it’s a really bad idea to walk over there, but I can’t seem to stop myself. I had hoped that Baz would have texted or called me this morning, but I woke to find no missed texts or calls. Maybe he decided to have breakfast first.

I know that’s just wishful thinking, but my stomach is rumbling, so I decide to take a chance and ask if I can join them.

I shouldn’t be so surprised when Baz scowls and turns away from me, but I won’t say that it doesn’t hurt. Dev tells me to have a seat, and he seems to be acting a little too friendly to me, seeing as we’ve never been friends.

I sit down, and a few moments later, a waiter comes to take my order, his eyes falling on Dev every few seconds. It’s odd but I write it off as nothing, too tired to really care. I order a stack of pancakes with some orange juice and lean back against the booth.

I glance at Baz while I wait for my food. He reaches for his glass of water, and I can see that his arm is bare. He scrubbed my number off already, which means he probably doesn’t plan on calling me.

I was a fool to think he would.

The waiter comes back with my food, but I’m no longer hungry. I want to leave, but that would be rude. Plus, I can’t just let Baz win. I can’t let him scare me off. So, I pick up my fork and force myself to eat.

The silence at this table is deafening. I would think it was because of me, except they didn’t seem to be talking to each other before I came over.

It’s strange to see that Dev and Niall aren’t sitting next to each other after the way that they were all over each other last night. I’m curious about what happened, but it isn’t my place to ask.

This breakfast is awful. Not the food - the food is great - but the company. I wish that I had kept walking and eaten at a place closer to my house. Anything would be better than sitting here replaying last night over and over in my head while Baz ignores me.

I was stupid to give him my number. He was drunk, and it didn’t mean anything. And as the backs of my eyes start to burn with tears of anger, I begin to wish that I was anywhere but here, even my small bedroom at home.

This was all a big mistake.

[snow-pitch-grimm]

A Perfect Match

Summary: In a world where those with magic are matched by fate, Baz and Simon are two idiots that can't see what's right in front of them.

Oh, and there's a group of mages that's not too happy about Natasha Pitch's new leniency toward magical 'infected' creatures. 

Creatures like Baz and Simon. (Someone help these poor boys)

Chapter 1: A Bright Light

BAZ

There was a knock on the door, and my father pocked his head inside.

"It's almost time, Baz. Your mothers are waiting for you as is everyone else,"

"Yes Father," I say

I take another look in the mirror. Black tux, purple shirt, shiny shoes and hair slicked back. Perfect.

My father holds the door open for me as I step outside. As we walk side by side, he pulls out a package and hands it to me.

"Happy Birthday, Basilton," he says as I take the package and gives me a gentle hug.

I smile, "Thank you father,"

He gives me a soft smile, and I expect him to start walking. Instead, he pulls me close again, and this time, the hug in much tighter.

"I know I don't say it a lot, but I'm proud of you, you know,"

A lump forms in my throat and I bury my face in his shoulder. Neither my father nor am I prone to emotional moments, but the occasional softness on special days is very nice.

And today is a very special day indeed.

It's my twenty-first birthday, which means, starting today, I can finally begin to find my perfect match, just like every other Mage and magical creature in England. There would have been a time where being a vampire would have barred me from being a part of the matching. However, when my mother had realized what I had become, she had fought hard to change the rules.

At first, I had believed it was only because I was her son. Daphne had shut that thought down fast. She is good at that. The whole comforting thing

"Oh, Baz, no. She is doing this because you are her son, but that is not the only reason. You made her realize that mages turned magical creatures are no different from the rest of us. They do not suddenly change after being infected, well they change but not at the core. You were Tyrannus Basilton before turning, and you are still our Tyrannus Basilton. So yes, you were the catalyst that made your mother realize that things needed to change, but never believe that we love you despite your vampirism. We love all of you, including your vampirism,"

"Why don't you open the present, son?"

I shake myself out of my thoughts and smile at my father again. I open the package to reveal an old wooden carved box. Inside there is an old leather cuff with the Grimm crest on it.

"I know you are planning to give your grandfather Pitch's ring to your match. Understandable since you are your mother's heir. However, I thought maybe you could give this too. You are part Grimm too after all,"

His eyes are alight with hope and I find myself vigorously nodding, "I would love to father,"

My father smiles and claps a hand on my back, "Good man. And don't worry. You will get a proper birthday present later,"

"Oh, no," I say, "You didn't have to-"

"None sense, Basilton," says Father, "Just because you're a proper adult now doesn't mean we can't buy you birthday presents. Come along now. We should get to the ballroom before Natasha sends a search party,"

Slipping the cuff on my right wrist, I leave the box with one of the brownies of the house who eagerly takes it titters off.

The ballroom is full of music and laughter. My mother is the first to spot me. She comes over and gives me a huge hug, Daphne right behind her.

"You finally made it, Tyrannus. Happy birthday!" she gushes, pulling me into a hug. She and my father have always called me by their favourite name for me. Well, mum calls me by her favourite name. Father just hates Tyrannus. They pull out the Tyrannus Basilton when they're mad at me.

Daphne always just calls me Baz. I like that one the best.

She pulls me into a hug once my mum lets go.

"Happy Birthday, Baz," she whispers against my ear, "You look very lovely,"

"Thank you, Mother," I say, making her beam at me.

I call Daphne Mother instead of Mum. I used to wonder if that hurt her but now I can tell that she's pleased I consider her a parent too.

"Everyone, your attention please!" my mum calls out, clinking a glass with her spoon, "There are waiters coming around with glasses of champagne and temperance drinks. Please join us in toasting my son,"

I blush as all eyes turn toward me and my father discreetly hands me a champagne glass.

"I'll keep this short," said my mother, "Twenty-One years ago I brought my son into the world. Like any parent, I had expectations and goals and dreams for him. I am so proud to say that he had has exceeded any and all expectations we had for him. My son has been the greatest joy of my life and after today I hope he will take his first step toward finding his own eternal happiness,"

There are murmurs of agreement and wishes of luck from around the room.

"To Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch,"

The guests echo the toast and a few minutes later I'm being pulled around by relatives and friends, being congratulated and wished more luck. My aunt Fiona gets her hands on me at one point and I'm pulled into a long-winded dance that leaves me laughing and breathless.

I also make sure to say Hello to my younger sister who is running around with the other children, causing a ruckus for her sitters. The younger three have already been put to bed.

Eventually, I end up standing with my friends in a corner and laughing about our childhood exploits.

"Oh and remember when you accidentally set the curtains on fire," said Dec, laughing, "Aunt Natasha was so mad,"

Niall also joins him in his laughter and I roll my eyes at them.

"Haha funny,"

"Seriously though, how are you feeling about tonight. Ready to start looking for your perfect match?" asked Niall, "I for one can't wait for my birthday,"

Niall was a few months younger and wouldn't be getting his orb until his birthday. The orb was basically a small ball that gave you clues as to where your soulmate was, depending on how much you asked and how much you could take.

Dev had gotten his two months ago and it had glowed blue instead of white, indicating that his perfect match had also had their twenty-first birthday already. Since then he had been having dreams and visions of classrooms and exam papers. That, with a few other clues he hadn't told us about, it had become obvious that his soulmate was also a young uni student. However, neither of them was ready to meet the other yet so, for now, all he got was small glimpses of their everyday life.

"I'm feeling pretty excited," I said, answering Niall's question " If my orb has a coloured glow, I think I'd like to find them as soon as I can. Granted they're on the same page,"

My friends nod and Dev raises his glass again, "Well cheers to that. Here's to you finding your perfect match,"

"Hear. Hear."

XXX

"Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch," Calls out my great-great-aunt Viola, an old wrinkled lady with a hunched back but eyes still filled with life.

A Pitch through and through. The oldest Pitch to be exact.

I make my way up and spot my parents, all three of them, smiling at me proudly. Standing together now I can see that their clothes are complementing each other. My mother is wearing a deep forest green strapless dress with a slit on the right. Her accessories are a glittering black colour. My father is wearing a black tux with a deep green shirt. Daphne is wearing a back dress with a green flowery pattern.

My mother blows me a kiss with her left hand as I take the mini-stage at the front of the ballroom. Her right arm is linked with my father's left from where he's angled a step behind her. His right arm is wound tightly around Daphne's waist and she's also giving me a thumbs up with both hands.

I can't remember a time when they weren't like that. Happy, Solid, and together.

As a lovesick teenager, I had daydreamed of having that with- No no thinking of him tonight. I’m twenty-one now, it’s time to start looking for my perfect match.

Viola smiles (the Pitch version) at me and hands me an orb. It's a heavy and solid weight in my hands.

Next, she takes out her wand and casts the spell.

"The Red String of Fate,"

A soft golden light, like the morning sun, emits from the orb, nearly blinding in its glory. As the people in the room ooh and aah I am reminded of bright blue eyes shadowed by bronze curls and smile that could-

No! Not thinking about that.

As soon as the light fades, I'm being swarmed. First by my parents and then everybody else in the room. There are congratulation and hugs and kisses. By the time I make it to my room, I'm ready to go to sleep despite the excitement making my stomach churn.

After changing and washing up, I put the orb on my nightstand and try to decide on the wish.

Should I start with something simple? Or just dive right in? Would that be a little too invasive of my soulmate for the first time? But then again, the orb won't show me anything they haven't agreed to already since they obviously got their orb before me.

Making up my mind, I lean forward and whisper, "Show me where I'm meant to be,"

xxx

In another room, in another bed, laid another young man.

Unbeknown to the sleeping figure, the white orb on his nightstand lit up a bright yellow, almost like the sun.

[lucianacipriano]

23:32

[Author’s Note: Similar to some of the other things I’ve written, this is based off of something from a roleplay I’m part of on Twitter. My writing partner has a headcanon she wrote about and incorporated into CuriosCat answer, and I saw a wonderful opportunity for angst. That being said, feel free to check out what sparked this by clicking the link. She also wrote Nadia’s version of everything. Enjoy!]

To say it had been a long day would be an understatement. Lucio had been in a mood, cursing and damning anyone and anything that had the misfortune of crossing his path. No matter what Julian was doing, he had to drop it for it was Jules this and Jules that. Oh, how he despised that name. Jules. And in that godawful accent of his. However, it was better than hearing him whine when saying his full name. There were days where hearing the Count just breathe would spark the most annoying headache and today had quickly become one of those days. Due to Lucio and his tantrums, it had become impossible for Julian to run off to meet with the Countess, per their ritual. He almost didn’t have time to write a note in place of meeting her, explaining why he couldn’t and how he’d make it up to her.

He could’ve used the excuse of being a doctor and needing to check on the Countess, but Lucio wasn’t entirely stupid. He’d catch onto that eventually and then when she’d actually need him, he wouldn’t be able to assist. Now wasn’t the time for the doctor to burn the only bridge he had with Lucio, no matter how one-sided their relationship was, as Nadia was expecting and needed a physician ready should anything happen.

In fact, that was one of the reasons he decided to spend most of his days at the palace. It was to watch over her. He knew from the moment her symptoms started to show that this wouldn’t be easy on anyone involved, but she was determined. Both she and Lucio seemed excited, and that was all the doctor needed to push aside his feelings and be professional. He had made the decision to cut back on their activities, but he couldn’t cut ties completely, so he had settled with daily talks and occasional kisses. Nadia had become his addiction and letting her go cold turkey would’ve ended badly. Plus, it would’ve looked suspicious to everyone else if he were to simply disappear once it was announced the Countess was with child. However, he had a feeling Lucio knew but didn’t care. Much like how Nadia knew of her husband and Valerius.

Lucio had clung to Julian as he tried to leave for the night, trying to get in bed with him by saying “C’mon, Jules. You’re the doctor. Don’t you know that this is the best way to make me feel better?”

Julian let out a heavy sigh as he managed to free himself from the Count’s grasp. “Lucio, no. I’m not in the mood to hear you talk about how great you were—“

“But you admit I’m great, right?” At that, Lucio had the smuggest smirk on his face, putting his hands on his hips in victory. What the doctor wouldn’t give to wipe that smirk off his face…

Julian deflated a little, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes. “Shut up, you twit… Not today.”

The Count’s smirk quickly turned into a pout and then a sneer as he finally waved the doctor off and turned on his heel, walking away. “Fine, I’ll go bother Valerius. But don’t think this is over, Jules! I’ll remember this attitude when I finally—“

“Yes, yes, I know! Now good night, your royal highness,” he retorted with a role of his eyes and middle finger.

Finally free of the childlike count, Julian cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, letting out the biggest sigh. He stood there in silence for a moment or two before draping his long jacket over his arm and walking out of the palace. A hand came up to rub his face as he walked, mind shutting off from all of the useless work he was made to do throughout the day.

Maybe that was why Lucio kept him busy. The fact he knew and could potentially be jealous wasn’t something the doctor gave much thought to until now. In fact, he was mentally kicking himself for not thinking of it sooner because Lucio was childish enough to get jealous of his wife getting into the doctor’s pants when he couldn’t, despite having Valerius on the side already.

​It was moments like this where he wished he had his sister or even aunt around, so he could talk about the things going on in his mind. But alas, he had made the decision to leave them behind years ago to study medicine. Now he only had Mazelinka who spent more time scolding him than anything. However, she had her moments when it was clear something was bothering the man. Part of Julian was hoping she would be home when he showed up and the other part hoped she wasn’t so he wouldn’t feel bad going to the tavern to drink the night away. Or maybe he’d actually get some sleep tonight.

​The idea of sleep seemed far more attractive to the doctor than staying at the tavern. With that in mind, his feet took him down the paths through Vesuvia, avoiding most of the remaining evening traffic by slipping through dark alleyways. He knew the city like the back of his hand and found himself walking with his eyes closed for most of his journey.

​By the time he reached Mazelinka’s cottage, he didn’t have the energy to take the window like he usually did. He was emotionally worn out and all he wanted to do was lie down. He opened the too-short door and called out for the owner.

​“Mazelinka? Are you awake?” he closed the door behind him, hanging his coat on the hook next to the exit. He looked around, not seeing any signs of life, which either meant the old woman was asleep or out.

​After checking behind the curtain that led to the small “bedroom,” if one was to even consider it that, and crouching down to check the cubby in the floor, Julian pressed his lips into a line before teeth sunk into the bottom one.

“Must be out raising Hell…” he murmured as he stood, knees cracking from the change in position.

He ran his hands through his hair as he walked back to the “bedroom,” falling face first onto the mattress. Arms snaked themselves under the pillow as he buried his face into it, eyes closed and mind completely off before he even landed.

​

​The next thing Julian knew, he was being shaken awake by Mazelinka. He had no idea how much time had passed or when she had gotten back, but all he could focus on was how concerned she looked. He quickly sat up, any remaining tiredness being left on the pillow.

​“Mazelinka, what happen—“

​“There are guards… From the palace. What did you do, Ilyushka?” The woman’s voice dropped to a hiss as she questioned the doctor, hitting him in the shoulder.

​He blinked repeatedly as he rubbed where she hit him. Guards from the palace? At this hour? He glared at the woman, reaching out to stop her hand before she could hit him again. “Stop. I didn’t do anything. I told you I’m just a friend and the leading physician.”

​His voice trailed off as it finally hit him. Nadia.

​He pushed the older woman onto the bed as he launched off of it, making his way to the door as fast as possible. He threw it open and was met with two out of breath soldiers.

​“Dr—Dr. Devorak. You’re needed…”

​“It’s the Countess!”

​Julian didn’t need to hear anything else they had to say, nor did he say anything to Mazelinka before he took off running out of the cottage. Of course something would happen on the one night he tried to sleep! This was just his luck. Now he had to run as fast as he could through Vesuvia and pray to God she was still alive when he got there.

​“Dr. Dev-Devorak! Wait up!” the two soldiers called for him, but he wasn’t listened. There were only two things on his mind at the moment and they were to keep running and prayers that Nadia was OK.

​

In his panicked state, he had made it to the palace in a third of the time it would’ve normally taken him. The gate was already open, presumably so that the soldiers who went to fetch him could make a hasty return.

​There was no time for pleasantries as he ran by guards and burst through the doors leading into the palace. He looked around and saw one of the midwives who kept him updated on things as this was most definitely not his field of expertise. She was nervously chewing on her thumbnail as she paced from wall to wait. He came to a stop in front of her, breathing heavy. He tried asking where she was, but the words just wouldn’t come out. He was aware that he looked more like the distressed partner than the professional doctor, but he didn’t care. Part of his job, especially here at the palace, was to make sure nothing happened to his patients, and now something was happening to his dearest patients.

​The midwife pointed in the direction of Nadia’s chambers and the doctor took off once more. This time, he didn’t run, needing to catch his breath before he ran into anyone else. He needed to keep his hands busy, so he decided to roll his sleeves up. His jaw was set as he made his way through the corridors, not stopping to talk to a soul until he reached the wing where everything was happening.

​His breath caught in his throat as he saw the chaos flowing in and out of the Countess’ bedroom. He placed a hand on the wall to steady himself, taking a few seconds to pull himself together. He took a few deep breaths before he started walking towards the room.

​“Someone update me. Now.”

​His voice caught the attention of some of the maids that were hovering around. Those who turned to look at him looked as distraught as he felt, but he didn’t dare let that show now.

​“M-milady… She said she wasn’t feeling well earlier…”

​“So she… She retired early.”

​“Then the next thing we knew, she was screaming for help.”

​Julian listened to the women as they talked, trying to figure out when the Countess could’ve retired for the evening and if he was still here or not. There was good chance he was and that annoyed him. She knew she could always tell him if she wasn’t feeling well, so what stopped her this time?

​“Coming through!” The head midwife called as she pushed through the door, carrying a small bundle, both her and the bundle covered in blood.

​He swallowed hard as he took a step to the side, but the woman stopped in front of him anyway. “It’s no good,” she said. “Poor thing just wasn’t meant for this world…” While her voice had sadness to it, it also held a sense of professionalism as if this wasn’t the first time she had delivered a stillborn, and it probably wasn’t. “Dr. Devorak, while you’re here, can you declare her deceased?”

​“A little girl, huh…” his voice was quiet as he carefully took the bundle from the midwife and examine her. He used the cloth she was wrapped in to wipe the slime and blood away, not wanting any of it to get on his hands if he is to go check on the Countess after this. However, doing so provided him with quite the shock. That wasn’t blonde hair underneath it all. It was red.

​Oh, God. He felt sick.

​“Dr. Devorak?” the midwife asked, noticing the change in the doctor’s demeanor.

​“O-oh, yes… Uh… I—she’s gone. I can’t find a heartbeat and I cannot detect any signs of her b-breathing…” He turned his head into his shoulder and coughed into it, clearing his throat. Grey eyes scanned the hall for a clock, “Time of death 23:32.”

​The midwife nodded as she carefully took the bundle from Julian. “I’ll take her down to the morgue for now. What should I tell the Count?”

​“Don’t tell him anything. He’ll want to hear it from me. The rest of you can go. I’ll take care of the Countess for the rest of the night.” He grabbed the handle of the door and stopped, turning to look at the women. “Actually, one of you go and find Lucio. If he says he’s busy, tell him I sent you and for him to find me immediately.”

​He stared each one of them down until he received some form of sign that they heard him and walked off. Once they were gone, he turned back to the door and pressed his forehead to it, taking deep breaths. It hadn’t crossed his mind that there was possibility of the child being his. He just assumed that it was always Lucio’s as he and the Countess were together more often than he was with her. He felt the tell-tale tickle in his nose and burning in his eyes.

​Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

​His knuckles tightened around the handle as he took one more breath. He needed to pull himself together for her. He was her doctor, for God’s sake! So without hesitating any longer, he opened the door and walked into the dark room. It looked like Hell had fallen upon it and he was sure everyone felt it had.

​He motioned to the door with his head, signaling for the remaining maids to take their leave. “It’s okay. I’ve got it from here,” he tried to keep his voice soft, not wanting to disturb the Countess, but judging by the way she jumped, she wasn’t expecting him or anyone to speak up.

​He stood off to the side as the maid’s finished gathering all of the soiled sheets and blankets, having laid fresh ones out for the Countess but were being kicked out before they could finish the job. Nadia was curled up in the chair, facing the balcony. Truth be told, he had never seen her so vulnerable and it broke his heart.

​“Nadia, my dear… Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?” he asked quietly, gently, closing the door once the final maid had left with an armful of bloodied blankets.

​There was a small sniffle from the Countess, serving as the only response he would get from her.

​He frowned as he walked over to her and carefully lifted her up. “C’mere, love…” he cooed, taking her spot in the chair, now holding her on his lap. He kept his arms around her tightly as she buried her face into the crook of his neck. She wasn’t a woman who broke down easily and she never wanted the world to see her tears. So it didn’t surprise him that she shut down like this.

​A hand rubbed soothing circles on her back as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He murmured sweet words to her. “Everything will be OK… I’m here.”

​However, his words barely scratched the surface of his own emotions. He knew Nadia was going through something he could never understand and the last thing he wanted was to make her feel even worse by asking if she had seen it to. And he didn’t want to say anything else for fear she might blame herself for not calling for him sooner or blame him for not being here when he should’ve known better.

​His thoughts were interrupted by Nadia’s soft voice after what felt like ages but was closer to thirty minutes. “Nadira…”

​“Hm…?” He hummed, pulling back enough to look down at the woman in his arms.

​She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “That’s what I want to name her… Nadira.”

​His heart either stopped or skipped a beat, he couldn’t tell. He smiled softly at her before nodding a little. “I think that’s a beautiful name, Countess…”

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi! I've been craving some lengthy-but-not-too-lengthy friends to lovers johnlock recently, any suggestions? (I'm not usually a fan of AUs, but I'm open to them :)) Thanks so much!

Hi Nonny!

Listen, I’ve a TONNE of Friends-to-Lovers fics! And I’ve been waiting for this ask to come in, so I’m just posting all of ones I have sorted so far! I sort them by length, so you can check out the first couple dozen fics for the ones you’re looking for, and continue on if you’re enjoying it XD I also specifically state if a fic is an AU, so you can skip those ones too :)

FRIENDS TO LOVERS

(fics below the cut)

See also:

T-RATED Pt. 1: Friends To Lovers Fics || [MOBILE LINK]

For a Case Trope 

Fake Relationship / For a Case Part 2

For a Case Pt 3 / Links to Similar Fics 

Meeting the Family With a Fake Relationship 

Married For a Case / Fake Husbands 

Friends to Lovers (Community Recs)

Friends to Lovers (Alexx’s List)

Enemies to Lovers Fic Recs (Alexx’s List)

Enemies to Lovers – Part 2 (Alexx’s List)

When Morning Comes by Youarethelightoftheworld (T, 423 w. || Christmas Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Lazy Mornings/Morning After, Fluff and Angst, Sleepy Cuddles, Domestic Fluff, Cuddling / Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort) – “Sherlock,” says John solemnly, “I’m not sure we can go anywhere today.”

The Basics by wearitcounts (Sher_locked_up) (T, 611 w. || Schmoop, Fluff, Coffee, Kissing, Friends to Lovers, The Morning After) – Morning snogs, and coffee.

New World, Old Words by thedeafwriter (G, 641 w. || Deaf Sherlock, Sherlock Whump, Pining Sherlock, Marriage Proposal, Fluff, Always John) – It was disconcerting to experience. One second, he was laying on the table, breathing in the gas that would make him sleep, the next, he was dragging his eyes open to look around the bright room, trying to wake up.

New Year, New Beginning by DaisyFairy (T, 810 w. || New Year’s Eve, John POV, Post S4, Friends to Lovers) – New Year at a crime scene and John makes a decision.

The Cure for Snoring by Goddess_of_the_Night (G, 1,278 w. || Sleepy Conversations, Bed Sharing, Cuddling, Fluff, Domestic, Platonic / Sleepy Cuddles) – Sherlock and John spend the night in Scotland after finishing a case. The sole Inn in town only has one room left…one bed. This would be fine - if not a bit awkward - if Sherlock hadn’t developed a habit of snoring loudly. John suffers through many hours of sleeplessness before he discovers that skin-to-skin contact stops the noise. Part 1 of Dreamscapes

The Pigeon’s deplorable nesting place by SlothfulSlytherin (G, 1,482 w. || Alternate First Meeting, Humour, Fluff) – Upon returning to London, John Watson took up residence in a mouldy little flat on Baker Street. The flat itself wasn’t all that special or interesting, his new neighbour on the other hand…

Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil by PipMer (T, 1,895 w. || Deaf John, Mute Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Fluff and Angst, Character Study, Morse Code, Love Confessions) – John is deaf. Sherlock is mute. There are no two people more suited for each other.

The Marriage Proposal Negotiation by Goddess_of_the_Night (G, 2,161 w. || Dev. Rel., Possessive Sherlock, Insecure Sherlock, Fluff, First Kiss, Post Mary) – Sherlock hasn’t ever really done anything the traditional way, so of course it wouldn’t bother him to propose to John even though they’re not even dating. And the fact that John is already on a date with someone else when he decides to do it? Tedious.

Hell or High water by bluefire301175 (E, 2,250 w. || PWP, Frottage, Alley Sex, First Person POV John, Case-ish Fic, Mutual Pining, Bed Sharing) – John wants. Sherlock wants. Plain and simple.

Let Go by thisisforyou (G, 2,743 w. || Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Fluff, Anxious / Worried Sherlock) – In the end, separating John’s things from Sherlock’s in the chaos of their sitting room is like pulling a limpet from a wet rock. Especially when the rock is clinging on for dear life, because Sherlock doesn’t want to let go. Short, fluffy h/c Johnlock oneshot.

It’s After That Hurts by jonnyluvssherlock (T, 2,791 w. || City of Angels AU || Fantasy, Fallen Angel Sherlock, Soldier John, Pining Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Permanently Incomplete Fic) – Sherlock’s an angel stuck as a guardian to danger addict John Watson. Everything is fine until he gets too involved. Now he has to make the choice, eternity alone or one life time with a man who may or may not love him.

Right Foot Red by Irrevocably_Sherlocked (E, 3,089 w. || First Time, Board Games, Frottage, Masturbation, Frottage, PWP) – …ok, it’s juvenile, but at least it’s a game where touching is allowed. And if something more were to happen, well, John can’t say he’d be too upset about that. “What are the rules of this game?” Sherlock asks, the disdain evident on the word ‘game’. “I spin, you do as I say.” John thinks he sees a slight widening of those pale grey eyes at that, just for a fraction of a second, before it is shut down. Oh, this is interesting, he thinks.

The Sweetest Taste In The World by crossroads (G, 3,121 w. || First Kiss, Jealous Sherlock, Fluff, Pining, Friends to Lovers) – The sweetest taste in the world is rarely ever the easiest to come by.

Wish I Was In Heaven Sitting Down by standbygo (M, 3,282 w. || Post-S4, Five Plus One, Missing Scenes, Parenthood, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, Declarations of Love, Fluff, Food, John Whump) – Five times when Sherlock and John ate together, and one time they didn’t. A history of the boys, in food.

Stay by msdisdain (M, 3,561 w. || First Kiss / Time, Angst / H/C, Bed Sharing, Nightmares, Blow Jobs, Anal) – John’s nightmares are nothing new. Sherlock’s inability to ignore them, however, is.

Five Times John Cooked Something with Peas and One First Kiss by 221b_careful_what_you_wish_for (T, 3,915 w. || 5 and Ones, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Cooking / Food, Sick Sherlock, Music, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss) – After John cooks five dinners that slowly reveal their hunger for each other, Sherlock and John finally share a first kiss.

Jukebox by standbygo (T, 3,990 w. || Fluff, Singing/Music, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Hurt/Comfort, Humour, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss) – After the music halls of Sherlock’s mind palace get damaged by accident, John learns that Sherlock never forgets a song. Even the ones he’d rather forget. But the random singalong brings some unexpected benefits.

Tree Topper by May_Shepard (E, 4,017 w. || Christmas Tree, Christmas Fluff, Drunken Shenanigans, Smut, First Time, Friends to Lovers) – Sherlock and John are celebrating Christmas the best way they know how–alone together, with booze. They’ve almost finished decorating their tree, but John is determined to find the best way to top it.

Hope Springs Eternal by QuinnAnderson  (T, 4,054 w. || Friends to Lovers, Pining Sherlock, Vacation, Anxious Sherlock, Love Confessions, Fluff, Requited Love) – John Watson and Sherlock Holmes go on holiday, and Sherlock has romance on the brain.

Overture by Kate_Lear (M, 4,435 w. || First Kiss / Time, Friends to Lovers, Angry John, Introspection, Dev. Rel., Embarassed / Insecure Sherlock, Morning After, Bed Sharing, Cuddles / Limpet Sherlock) – A short snippet on how John and Sherlock might have got together.

a violent flash of purple by hudders-and-hiddles (E, 4,749 w. || Sex Toys, Friends to Lovers, PWP, Love Confessions, Porn With Feelings, Embarrassed Sherlock, Anal Plugs) – When Sherlock accidentally drops his towel, he ends up revealing a whole lot more than he’d intended.

Cephalalgia by the_beekeeper_of_sussex (E, 4,979 w. || First Kiss, Frottage, Friends to Lovers) – John is in pain and it’s up to Sherlock to set him to rights by any means possible.

Sleeping next to you by Salambo06 (E, 5,018 w. || ASiB Fic, Bed Sharing, Frottage, Mutual Masturbation, Rimming, Anal, First Kiss/Time) – Based on an Anonymous Prompt: “So, that scene from ASiB when Mrs H has been attacked by the american CIA guy & John, Sherlock & she are in Mrs H’s kitchen when John says “She’ll have to sleep upstairs in our flat tonight. We need to look after her.” to which Sherlock replies with “no”. John of course suggested that because he cares about her safety, but maybe he also did it cause he /wanted/ that to happen. What if they finally agreed on letting her have John’s or Sherlock’s bed & J&S sleep in the same one?“ Part 12 of Tumblr Collection

What Happens in Vegas (is legally binding in the United Kingdom) by  moonblossom (E, 5,051 w. || Accidental Marriage, Friends to Husbands to Lovers, CSI Crossover, Fluff & Porn, Bathtub Sex, Hand Jobs, First Time) – When a case sends the boys to Vegas, John comes out of it with a bit more than he bargained for. Part 19 of Prompt Fills, Remixes, Works inspired by others

Every Little Thing by the_beekeeper_of_sussex (E, 5,066 w. || First Time / Kiss, Fluff, Frottage, Come as Lube, Embarassed Sherlock, Porn With Feelings) – When Sherlock walks in on John making tea wearing nothing but a tight pair of boxer-briefs things get a little heated…physically and emotionally.

Strings by EstherShapiro (E, 5,267 w. || Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Massage, Friends to Lovers, Fingering, Anal, PWP) – Sherlock wakes his doctor up. Was this weird? John was sitting on his bed, late at night, rubbing his hands over another man’s body? That was supposed to be weird, right? Then again, this wasn’t just some man, it was Sherlock. They were so used to each other that John didn’t even think to question it. It wasn’t weird.

Sociopathy and Other Fibs by kinklock (M, 5,314 w. || 5+1, Miscommunication, Humour, Friends to Lovers, Post S3, Love Confessions) – Five times John called Sherlock out, and one time Sherlock returned the favour.

Adjacent by weeesi (E, 5,711 w. || Bed Sharing, Fluff and Smut, Pining Idiots, On a Trip, Frottage) – Sherlock and John spend the night at a hotel in adjoining rooms, and keep finding excuses to visit each other’s rooms, until WHOOPS they’re sharing a bed.

Recovery by thesignsofserbia (T, 5,948 w. || HLV-Fix It / Rewrite, Villain Mary, Pining Sherlock, Major Character Injury, Scars, Self-Hatred, POV Sherlock, Doctor John, Friends to Lovers) – Set after the confrontation with Mary, and Sherlock’s cardiac arrest, John stays at 221B to aid Sherlock’s recovery, forcing them to confront wounds both old and new as they try to heal their damaged relationship.

Just a Touch by MissDavis (E, 6,248 w. || Bed Sharing, Masturbation, First Time/Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Sharing a Room) – John has trouble falling asleep these days. There’s one thing he can do that always seems to help, but he’s stuck in this hotel room with Sherlock and doesn’t think he’ll get the chance. How will he ever find relief and a good night’s sleep?

Five Times John Noticed But Didn’t Really by ScandalousMinds (T, 6,383 w. || Domestics, Fluff/Angst, Bratty Sherlock, Idiots, Pre-Slash, Jealous Sherlock, Love Confessions) – 5 times John (thought) he noticed something peculiar about his and Sherlock’s relationship but really missed the obvious.

The Strait of Juan de Fuca by mightypog (T, 6,400 w. || Vacation, Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Canada, Post-TRF, Love Confessions) – Sherlock is back and all seems forgiven, but something is missing between him and John. Their friendship initially appears intact, but Sherlock doesn’t understand why John seems to be slipping away. Finally, in terror, he tries to reconnect with John by taking him to the one place that seems to inspire any emotional interest in John any more: the Canadian wilderness. While there, Sherlock faces his greatest fear.

Better Than Fiction by Irrevocably_Sherlocked (E, 6,813 w. || Pining Sherlock, Sherlock’s Imagination, Masturbation, BJ’s, First Time / Kiss) – …he opens his eyes, but instead of seeing John he is staring at his bedroom ceiling, the pale plaster a startling contrast from the scene in his head. It had felt so real. He can only imagine what the feel of John’s lips would be like, his taste. But luckily for him, he thinks with a smirk, he’s always had a brilliant imagination.

The space between by Salambo06 (E, 6,830 w. || PWP, Friends to Lovers, Masturbation, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Miscommunications, Bottom Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Sexual Fantasy) – “It’s for a case,” Sherlock says as soon as John looks down at his computer. John remains silent for a long moment, eyes moving from the screen to Sherlock, before saying, “You don’t have to explain.” His voice is low, too low, and Sherlock looks at the computer, putting the video on pause. “Lestrade asked me-, no, forced me to find out who’s threatening a famous porn star, and the suspect is among his co-stars, so I only need to watch out for any signs from his partners, anything that might show they’re the one sending those threats and I can move to something else.” “Right.”

Onomatopoeia by aquabelacqua (M, 6,904 w. || First Time/Kiss, Frottage, Dirty Talk, Domestics, Word Kink) – Something is the matter with John. Sherlock is determined to figure out what it is. Mark his words.

The Tip Over Into The Inevitable by ivyblossom (T, 6,894 w. || Grief, Cuddles, Insomnia, Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers) - When his father dies, Sherlock avoids sleeping. Then discovers he can’t sleep at all. John finds a way to help.

where the good things grow by anchors (M, 7,066 w. || Tea Shop AU || Alternate First Meeting, Magical Realism, Gardens, Tea, Friends to Lovers) – "I have a magic garden.” As come-ons go, John’s heard worse.

Drawstring by May_Shepard (E, 7,412 w. || Friends to Lovers, UST/RST, Fluff and Smut, Post-TAB, John POV) – John is bothered by Sherlock’s slowly-falling jim-jams… as in hot and bothered and he is trying to deal with a sexy dishevelled Sherlock while also keeping his pining in check.

Six Dates by avawtsn (E, 7,421 w. || 5+1, First Time / Kiss, Post S4-Compliant, POV John) – A rather accidental 5+1 written for the prompt “is this a date?” Hint: it is.

Correspondence by Cleo2010 (T, 8,031 w. || Letters, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, Dating ) – Sherlock’s been spirited away on a case for Mycroft. Part of the deal was that he and John could communicate via letter until the case was completed. Maybe the cliche is true, absence does make the heart grow fonder. Or perhaps something is growing on the feet in the fridge. Read their letters month by month.

Presence by LostGirl (M, 8,625 w. || Pre-Slash, First Time, Jealousy, Friends to Lovers) – Sherlock has recently noticed a shift in his own perceptions, but he can’t quite figure out when it started.

Bread and Wine and Curry Once a Week by cwb (E, 8,737 w. || Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Stroppy Sherlock, Love Letters, POV John) – Sherlock asks John for relationship advice. Little does he know that it’s him that Sherlock is in love with.

A Lifetime Together by LondonGypsy (M, 8,886 w. || Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Falling in Love, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Pining Idiots, Alternating POVs, Domestics, Retirement) – John and Sherlock falling in love.

Unwasted by patternofdefiance (E, 8,966 w. || Post-S3 / S3 Fix-It, Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Angelo’s, Fluff, First Time, Anal, Cum Play, Flashbacks to ASiB, Mutual Pining, Love Confessions, Bottomlock, Cuddles, Multiple Orgasms, BJ’s, Bed Sharing) – John finds it three months after he’s moved back. He’s on the hunt for something to make for dinner, is scrounging through the cupboards, when he happens upon the graveyard of pasta boxes Sherlock still seems to create when left to his own devices. Behind seven boxes of pasta, all almost completely empty, is a dark-glassed bottle, with a paler coat of dust.It’s unopened. John’s face falls slack when he sees it, instantly recognises it, and for a long moment he just stands and looks at it.

The Newlywed Game: Johnlock Edition by patternofdefiance (E, 9,020 w. || Fake Relationship, Fake Marriage, Friends to Lovers, Humour, Romance, Smut, Case Fic, Self-Esteem Issues) – John and Sherlock pretend to be married in order to be contestants in a Newlywed Game. Of course it’s for a case. Of course it doesn’t stay that way. Part 8 of I Blame Tumblr

What I Hide By My Language, My Body Utters by PixChuu22 (M, 9,047 w. || Fake Relationship, For a Case, Friends to Lovers) - Based on a prompt from Tumblr user thetwogaydetectives - “fake relationship that ends up being so real, they finally realize they are in love.”

The Devil You Know by PipMer (T, 9,300 w. || Friends to Lovers, Romance, Holmes Brothers, Jealous Sherlock) – The Holmes brothers are behaving oddly. John is dazed and confused. In other words, it’s business as usual at 221B Baker Street. Except when it’s not.

Paparazzi by SilentAuror (E, 10,543 w. || Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Post S3) – John moves back into 221B Baker Street after his marriage falls apart and the paparazzi won’t leave him and Sherlock alone about the status of their supposed relationship. Sherlock, of course, never denies it, until one day he does…

Never Have I Ever by hudders-and-hiddles (E, 10,655 w. || Pining Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Drinking Games, Love Confessions, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers) – John and Sherlock tag along for the Met’s weekly night out, where the evening’s chosen drinking game is Never Have I Ever. Sherlock is reluctant to join in until he realizes he can learn all kinds of new things about John, but he forgets that John might learn a thing or two about him as well.

Rainbow Hearts Retreat by PajamaSecrets (E, 11,638 w. || Fake Relationship, Case Fic, Undercover, Fluff and Smut, Bed-Sharing, Therapy, Humour/Crack, First Time) – “It’s a same-sex couples retreat. For those experiencing troubles in their relationship. Consists of group and couples therapy as well as encouraging socialization between the couples. It’s all in their incredibly dull brochure.” “Rainbow Hearts Retreat,” John read. “Sounds… quite gay.”

Iris by slashscribe (E, 11,948 w. || Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Post-S3) – Sherlock does his best to make John happy when John comes back to 221B with his new baby after the events of Season 3, but Sherlock has a track record of getting things wrong in this area. This story is an exploration of their gradual shift from friends to lovers, told from Sherlock’s perspective, full of a lot of pining and lack of emotional awareness.

The Slow Burn by CaitlinFairchild (E, 12,097 w. || Romance, Emotional Infidelity, Friends to Lovers, Sherlock POV) – John smiles, something small and private and for him alone, and Sherlock just…he knows. With a heart-stopping certainty, Sherlock suddenly knows. It feels like falling off the edge of a cliff. It feels like falling off the edge of the world. It feels like flying.

Barricade by stitchy (M, 14,127 w. || Friends to Lovers, Angst, Happy Ending, UST, Mary’s Not Nice) – Sherlock has been struggling to keep his feelings at bay for everyone’s sake. Part 1 of Barricade

Speaker for the Bees by antietamfalls (M, 14,649 w. || Deaf Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Fluff, Sign Language) – It isn’t always easy assisting a deaf detective. Luckily for John, they make a pretty good team.

Hallowed Eve by EventHorizon (T, 14,750 w. || First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Halloween) – It probably wasn’t the smartest idea to let Sherlock choose the costumes for Halloween, but John never considered himself the smartest man in the room, anyway.

Pattern Behaviour by SilentAuror (E, 14,835 w. || POV First Person Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Introspection, Stroppy Sherlock, Light Humour, Friendship, John Takes Care of Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Wall Kisses, Fluffy Angst, Happy Ending) – Sherlock doesn’t even know why he resents John’s dates so much. Until the day he does know. Slight angst, unrequited feelings (but don’t let that scare you off!)

Twelfth Night by yourdykeinshiningarmor (E, 15,139 w. || Fake Relationship, Christmas, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Angst & Fluff, BJ’s, Anal) – John is invited to his aunt’s Twelfth Night ball. Sherlock offers to attend with him as a friendly face among strangers, but John’s family force him to address his true feelings for Sherlock.

Till Death Do Us Part by prettysailorsoldier (M, 15,390 w. || Fake Relationship, Case Fic, Friends to Lovers, Fake Marriage, Christmas, Fluff) – When Sherlock links a recent spree of murder-suicides to a psychologist who specializes in marriage counseling, there’s really only one thing to do: Go undercover as a couple in hopes of drawing the killer out. Faking a relationship seems easy enough, but things take a turn when their real issues start to creep into the sessions, and, all the while, a killer is watching, waiting in the shadows for their chance to strike.

Second Chance by SilentAuror (E, 15,816 w. || Post-Divorce, Friends to Lovers, UST, Romance) – Now that John’s divorce has gone through and the dust is settling, Sherlock thinks that he would very much like to see if there is any possibility of moving their friendship in another direction. The only thing is, he has no idea how to go about doing that…

A Hundred Thousand Ways to Say the Name John by Jberry (E, 16,825 w. || Fake Relationship, Fake Marriage, POV John, Pining John, Cruise Ship, Angst & Fluff, Case Fic) –  John Watson and Sherlock Holmes must solve a case on a cruise ship. To get close to the crew and passengers, they must get married for the case on the Baetica. However, their relationship hits rocky seas both due to the case and internal conflicts. Part 1 of Baetica

Between Friends by SilentAuror (E, 18,036 w. || Post S3, Alternating POV, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Abduction, Awkward Situations / Miscommunications, Porn With Feels, Blowjobs, Pining, Unrequited, Angst With Happy Ending) – Sherlock gets abducted. As John discovers him tied up naked in an empty storage facility and comes to rescue him, Sherlock’s body has an unfortunate reaction which triggers a series of events. John is convinced that everything will be fine as long as they never discuss it. Sherlock isn’t as sure…

When to Let Go by KendylGirl (M, 22,109 w. || Friends to Lovers, Reverse Reichenbach, Sacrifice, Forgiveness, Angst, Love, Implied Drug Use) – What if it were John who had to die to thwart Moriarty’s plans? John’s supposed death shatters Sherlock, and when he returns, it will challenge the pair to forge a path of forgiveness, to peace, and to find a way back to each other. Part 1 of When to Let Go

Ghost Stories by SwissMiss (M, 22,256 w. || Pining, Holmes Family, Christmas, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, First Time) – Sherlock’s parents think he and John are a couple. They might be onto something.

State of Flux by Atiki (E, 24,655 w. || Sherlock POV, Slow Burn, First Kiss/Time, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Cuddles and Snuggles, Awkwardness, Insecure/Virgin Sherlock, Romance) – John’s marriage is over and he is finally back home (i.e. at Baker Street, where he belongs). Sherlock is awfully insecure and John is awfully hesitant, and they’re both awkward idiots, of course, but they figure it out. Many First Times happen.

To be Loved by You by TwisterMelody (M, 28,775 w. || Angst, H/C, Friends to Lovers, Post-HLV, Infidelity, Character Death, Background Mystrade, Pining, First Time, Romance) – Too many times they had confessed themselves in the darkness, leaving it there, never to speak of it again.  But this is different.  This love deserves the light of day.

Five Times They Kissed for a Case, and One Time They Kissed for Real by fleetwood_mouse (M, 32,406 w. || 5+1, Slow Burn, Fluff / Angst, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers) – A stolen ring! An artful blogger! And many more adventures for your enjoyment.

A Study In Auto-Signatures, Sniper Dolphins, and Sex Holidays by cwb (E, 32,690 w. || Case Fic, Post S3, Evil Mary, Dev. Rel., Honeymoon, Epistolary, Bottomlock, First Kiss / Time, Fluff, Secret Agents, BAMF!John) – John and Mary go on their sex holiday, and Sherlock is grumpy and pining about it. Part 1 of HOT DOLPHIN SEX

Chaperones by MissDavis (T, 34,114 w. || 11 Years Post-S4, Fake Relationship, Parentlock, Disney World, Bed / Room Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, First Kiss, Obsessive Sherlock, Insecure John) – Right. Of course. Everyone assumed they were a couple and no one would question it. John put his elbows up on the table so he could rest his head in his hands. “You want to pretend to be a couple so we can chaperone a trip to Disney World with Rosie’s class and you won’t have to share a room with a stranger?” “Exactly.” Sherlock beamed at him. “Don’t worry about the cost. The Birmingham case last month paid more than enough to cover expenses for all three of us.”

That Partitioning of the Things of Youth by wearitcounts (E, 35,353 w. || Humour and Angst, Post-TRF, Fake Relationship, UST / RST, Friends to Lovers, Jealous John) – Victor Trevor is in town, and nobody’s happy.

Classified(s) by blueink3 (E, 36,153 w. || Wedding Date AU || Fake Relationship, Jealous, PIning, H/C, Idiots in Love, Happy Ending, Mary is not Nice, Escort Service) – Clara’s American father is the ambassador to some such territory that Great Britain probably used to own, but she (and Harry’s undying love for her) is the reason John is getting on a flight at 12:30pm, flying across the second largest ocean in the world, and pretending to be in a perfectly happy, healthy relationship with an undoubtedly perfectly coiffed stranger. See, Clara is not only American (and wealthy to boot), she’s also best friends with John’s ex-fiancée. Whom she’s placed in the wedding party. As Maid of Honor. And John just happens to be Best Man. Bloody brilliant.

The Curious Adventure of the Drs. Watson by ShinySherlock (M, 40,883 w. || BBC & ACD Fusion || Victorianlock, Time Travel / Magical Realism, Friends to Lovers, Love and Kissing, Romance, Body Swap) – What if ACD Watson and BBC Watson switched places…  “Imposter!” Hands clenching the lapels of John’s coat, Holmes shoved him anew. “Yes!” John agreed, nodding, and then grimacing. “Sort of!”

Bloody But Unbowed by BeautifulFiction (E, 43,211 w. || Abduction, John Whump, Mild Torture, Background Case Fic, Friends to Lovers, Post-TRF / S3 Rewrite, Hurt/Comfort) – When a familiar argument threatens to destroy the last remnants of John and Sherlock’s failing friendship, both men are left questioning their worth to one another. Before either of them has the chance to make amends, circumstance intervenes. John is left at the mercy of his abductors, and this time, he’s not sure Sherlock will bother coming to his rescue.

The Case of the Vanishing Pants by SwissMiss (E, 44,025 w. || Five and Ones, Post-TRF, Case Fic, UST, Homophobia, Friends to Lovers) – Five times John and Sherlock lost their pants in the course of a case.

Bedroom Tales by Junejuly15 (M, 49,950 w. || Friends to Lovers, Through the Years, H/C, Military Kink, First Kiss / Time, Romance, Insecure Sherlock, Voyeurism, Post-TRF, Ficlets, Fluff and Angst, Fix-It Fics) – Bedroom Tales is a collection of John and Sherlock ficlets. They are set at various stages of their relationship and are in no particular order. Some are fluffy, some sexy, some angsty, there is hurt and comfort, romance and love. What unites them is that they all play in a bedroom, but not necessarily the one in 221B.

In the Dark Hours by hubblegleeflower (E, 51,639 w. || Friends to Lovers, Unreliable Narrator, Closeted Bi John, Angst, Miscommunications, Slow Burn, First Time, John’s Blog / Epistolary) – John, wounded and silent, drifts back to Baker Street for healing…and then goes home again. He visits, gets more upbeat, chattier, smiles, jokes… and still goes home again. Sherlock wants him to move back in - it just makes sense - but John shows no signs of doing so. This is the story of how John and Sherlock learn to say what needs to be said when they’re both so very, very rubbish at talking.

Lost Without My Blogger by starrysummernights (E, 52,155 w. || Rev. Reich, PTSD, Hurt / Comfort, Fluff / Angst, Psychological Torture, Reunion Fic, Friends to Lovers) – John is abducted and declared dead. How will Sherlock cope without his blogger? How will he react when John comes back from the “dead?” Drama and angst with a healthy dose of romance. Part 1 of I’d Be Lost Without My Blogger

Wars We Fought, Things We’re Not by blueink3 (M, 55,204 w. || Parentlock, Fluff & Angst, Kidnapping, Whump, Post-TAB, UST, Slow Burn, Couple for a Case) –  Five months after John’s world has fallen apart, Mycroft sends the consulting detective and his doctor on a case that neither is prepared for.

31_Days_of_Porn_Challenge_2017 Series by distantstarlight (E, 96,540 w. across 31 stories || Prompt Ficlets, Assorted Kinks, PWP) – A collection in response to the 31 Days of Porn Challenge issued by AtlinMerrik! Thanks for doing that because this has been buttload of fun (that joke never gets old). All stories will be brief stand-alone one-shots.

The Wedding Garments by cwb (E, 105,390 w. || Alternate Future AU || , Alternate First Meeting, Dating / Arranged Marriages, Romance, First Kiss/Time, Heavy Petting, Cuddles, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Dev. Rel., Nervous/Anxious Sherlock, Jealous/Cranky, Hiking, Vacation Homes / Honeymoon, Sherlock’s Family, Horny John/Sherlock, Patient John, Massages, Hand Jobs, Assassination Plots, Hand Jobs / Oral Sex) – This is the story of a young consulting detective who wants nothing to do with marriage and an army doctor who wants to find true love. It’s 2020 post-Brexit England and the British government is encouraging arranged marriages. Candidates meet through state-run agencies and date in hopes of finding love (and tax benefits). Sherlock doesn’t need or want a spouse, at least not until John Watson shows up. Hesitant to give in to his more carnal urges because of the way they derail his mind, how will Sherlock progress toward the more intimate aspects of a relationship? The answer lies in a very special wedding gift.

A Study in Winning by Jupiter_Ash (E, 106,658 w. || Tennis AU || John POV, Dirty Talk, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Sherlock Speaks French, Switchlock, Wimbledon) – John and Sherlock are professional tennis players and it’s Wimbledon. One is a broken almost was at the end of his career, the other an arrogant rising star tipped for greatness. It should have been a straightforward tournament. It really should have been. How were they to know that a chance encounter would change everything? Part 1 of Tennis

between each beat are words unsaid by darcylindbergh, hudders-and-hiddles (T, 107,998 w. || Epistolary, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Angst, Happy Ending) – On their wedding night, John and Sherlock gift each other with the things they each said when the other could not hear, the things they each put down where the other could not see: a collection of writings that illustrate the way their love for one another has grown over the years. Part 1 of between each beat

Midnight Blue Serenity by BeautifulFiction (E, 151,907 w. || Friends to Lovers, Gay Bar / For a Case, Drugs, Pining, Case Fic, UST) – When Sherlock infiltrates a club in order to track down a serial killer, his altered appearance is enough to make John question his assumption that Sherlock is beyond his reach. However, is he the only one who appreciates his flatmate’s charms, or is Sherlock at risk of becoming the next victim?

A Fold in the Universe by darkest_bird (E, 152,869 w. || Omegaverse / Prime Universe Crossover || OmegaJohn / AlphaSherlock, First Kiss / Time, Friends to Lovers, Established Relationship, Angst, H/C, Dub Con, Humour) – Alpha Sherlock and Omega John are in a relationship. Prime Sherlock and Prime John are not. So what happens when a freak fold in the universe switches one John for the other?

Mise en Place by azriona (M, 161,004 w. || Restaurant (Kitchen Nightmares) AU || Sherlock is Gordon Ramsay / Celebrity Sherlock, Restauranteur John, Harry Plays Prominent Role, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, Cranky Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn) – John Watson had no intentions of taking over the family business, but when he returns from Afghanistan, battered and bruised, and discovers that his sister Harry has run their restaurant into the ground, he doesn’t have much choice. There’s only one thing that can save the Empire from closing for good – the celebrity star of the BBC series Restaurant Reconstructed, Chef Sherlock Holmes. Part 1 of Mise en Place

The Gilded Cage by BeautifulFiction (E, 326,887 w. || Omegaverse || Omega Sherlock / Alpha John, Friends to Lovers, Dub Con, Reproductive Rights) – In a world where Omegas are the property of the elite Alphas, locked away and treasured by those wealthy enough to buy them, John never questioned his flatmate’s secondary gender. Sherlock Holmes was an Alpha through-and through. Wasn’t he? A chance discovery turns the world on its head, and John is left grappling to come to terms with Sherlock’s past as events conspire to threaten their future.

[carryonsimoncarryonbaz]

Happy Birthday to @vkelleyart ! This is a gift fic for you based on the prompt for a character who is “unable to open their eyes for a few moments after a kiss” (I didn’t forget you liked that one!)

So here is a day in the life with SImon and Baz. Hope you enjoy it and enjoy your day!

Read at Ao3

In Between Days

Baz

It’s the fourth week in a row I’ve invited myself to the Bunces’ home. I can’t spend my weekends alone at Watford when I know Simon is just a few hours’ drive away.

It’s not like we don’t talk on mobile. Well, I talk. Simon mostly gives me monosyllabic answers and drawn out silences. But I get to hear the sound of his breathing and that calms me. I know it calms him too. I talk to him until he falls asleep most nights, until I can hear his breath puff in and out through the speaker (mouth breather).

Bunce usually takes his mobile from him once he’s asleep and then she tells me what Simon doesn’t: how he’s sleeping, if he’s eating enough. What goes on during his days with her, when I’m sitting in class—desperate to reach out to him—but forcing myself to translate interminably long passages of Greek for the Minotaur instead.  

Father has let me have the Jag at Watford this term. I asked him for it near the end of the holiday break. He heard me out, when I made my request for it, his forehead creasing in concentration. “He’ll be alright with Martin and Penelope, Basilton. I’ve no doubt about that. And Wellby will make sure to check in on him as well. He’s awfully fond of the boy.”

“So am I.” My words came out as a whisper. It was the first time I’d been so open to Father about my feelings for Simon. I don’t regret saying it, no matter what his response.

It’s true and I’m done hiding.

Father’s hand gripped my shoulder briefly. “I know.”

My eyes darted to his. His expression eased and a hint of a smile quirked his lips. “I may be old but I’m not blind. It wasn’t hard to puzzle it out at Christmas.”

I could feel my ears go warm as what little blood I have rushed into them. I opened my mouth to make some retort but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t deny it.

And he didn’t seem perturbed by it.

“And if I had been too thick to notice then, it certainly wouldn’t have escaped my attention now. You’ve spent practically every moment driving down there to see him.” Father waved a hand at me, as if to forestall any comment on my part.  “It’s understandable. The boy has been through the unthinkable.” He shook his head and his hand made an involuntary movement towards the inside pocket of his suit jacket, where he keeps his wand. “Simon needs the companionship of those who care for him.”

My mouth went dry. This was not the direction I expected this conversation to go. I should have known better than to underestimate Father’s powers of perception. He’s sharp and Daphne’s a natural empath, so I suppose it was inevitable that they would figure it out. I swallowed in an attempt to force some moisture to my mouth. “So, you’ll let me have the car?” I needed to get back to the point at hand.  I wasn’t sure I could handle the intensity of a heart to heart at that moment.

Father nodded. “Yes, yes. You’ll try to figure out some other way to get to him if I say no.” There was an unexpected glint in his eye as he spoke. He must have appreciated my perplexed expression because he raised his eyebrows, shoved his hands in his pockets, and huffed an unanticipated laugh. “You know your mother and I started dating at Watford.” This was a startling topic. I’ve rarely heard him speak of those times. Most of my information has come from Fiona.

He kept speaking, eyes gazing off in the distance somewhere over my left shoulder. “Your mother would always come here for the summer and I would be in Suffolk.” His eyes darted to me again. “I know every possible route from the estate there to our door here.” He huffed again. “I can’t tell you how many times I asked my father to borrow the car so I could save time on travel and have more time to spend with Natasha.” He pulled a key fob out of his pocket and dangled it in the air between us. “I’ll not make you endure the vagaries of the British rail system the way he made me.”

I took the keys from his hand. “Thank you.” I meant it. I was in a state of shock, honestly. He’d been utterly nonchalant about my feelings for Simon, uncharacteristically forthcoming about his past with my mother, and so unexpectedly kind about it all. I put out my hand to shake his and he gripped it with both of his, for longer than usual.

“Don’t park it at the lot near the Wood. The snow devils are hell this time of year. The last thing you need is them messing about with the motor or pelting the car with chestnuts. If the Mage’s Men could park off the Courtyard so can you. Mitali should have no problem with it.”

Headmistress Bunce has had no problem with my car or my mobile. She reversed the technology ban as soon as she set foot on the grounds. Considering she had provided Bunce with a contraband mobile during eighth year, this did not come as much of a surprise to me.

I grab the key fob from my desk and make my way down the steps of Mummers. The snow is swirling with the wind but there’s not much to speak of on the car yet. It’s early still. It might be thick by the time I get back tonight.

I’ll have to come back tonight. The Bunces’ home is bursting at the seams with people. There’s no place for me to stay when I go. Simon theoretically sleeps on a cot in Bunce’s room though I think she lets him crash on her bed more often than not. She complains about his wings enough.

I’m envious.

I know Bunce and Simon are just friends. I’m not bothered about that. I just miss his presence in our room so much that it hurts. There’s an ache in my chest when I look at his empty bed.

I’ve left it all just as it was the day he bolted to come find me. Dirty trackies in the corner, an untidy pile of books on his desk, his wand on the table, his bed a rumpled mess.

Slightly more rumpled now because I’ve been curling up on it, inhaling the faint smoky scent of him it still holds.

The motorway is fairly empty this time of day. I’m not a morning person by nature but the earlier I get on the road the longer I can spend with Simon. I’ll forego a few hours’ sleep if I can spend those hours with him instead.

I texted Bunce before I left, so she’ll know to expect me. She’ll make sure Simon’s up and about. He used to always be up with the sun, the bloody git, blundering around the room. I’d wake up to the sound of him only to huff and groan in mock annoyance. I’d watch him from under my half-closed eyelids as he riffled through his papers, hunted under the bed for his shoes, shrugged on his uniform jacket.

Simon’s not such an early riser anymore. Bunce says he still wakes with the sun, on the nights he gets any sleep, but he’s not up and about. Not until she harangues him for a bit. Or more than a bit. She usually manages to chivvy him to the kitchen for breakfast but then he’s a lump on the sofa for hours after.

Thousand-yard stares. Long stretches of immobility on the Bunces lumpy sofa. Silent walks with me.

He was never one for many words, but in the time since the Mage’s death he’s been painfully laconic in his speech.

I know he’s still in shock. It’s so much to take in. Simon had so little to begin with and now he’s lost that. The Mage. Ebb. Wellbelove. His magic. Watford.

He’s still got Bunce.

And now he has me, for whatever that’s worth.

It breaks my heart that his world shattered, just as my fondest dream finally came true. I’m not sure I’m a worthy trade.

I rap on the Bunces’ front door when I arrive. The snow is thicker here, flakes swirling around my head as I stamp my feet to stay warm. The door flies open and Priya rolls her eyes at the sight of me. “Oh, it’s you.”

I follow her in, relishing the warmth that washes over me. Headmistress Bunce is seated at the kitchen table, tapping away at her laptop. “Basilton.”

“Headmistress.” She usually makes the trip home early Friday afternoon and heads back to Watford at first light on Mondays.

“They’re in Penny’s room. You know the way.”

I give a warning knock on the door before I lean in to take a look. Bunce is seated at her desk but her chair is spun around to face Simon. He’s sprawled out on his stomach, wings nestled against his back, shirtless as usual.

“Baz.” Bunce greets me first, but Simon is already sitting up as she speaks.

I drop down on the bed next to him and press a gentle kiss to his temple. “Good morning, love.”

Bunce, as expected, snorts. “I’ll leave you two for a bit, shall I?” She ruffles Simon’s hair as she walks past us and then give me quick squeeze on the shoulder. Our eyes meet and she shrugs.

Not much has changed then.

Simon ends up on his side, head in my lap, as I lean against the wall by Bunce’s bed, my fingers sliding through his curls. I tell him about my week, all the stupid, useless, trivial things that happened at Watford since I’ve seen him last. Anything to distract him.

“Dev’s been sick this week so Niall tried to use “snug as a bug in a rug” to tuck the blankets around him when he was shivering and damn near strangled him instead. They got so damn tight around him it took both of us to get him unraveled.”

Simon tilts his head back to look at me. “You didn’t come up with a spell?”

There’s a glint in his eye, one I haven’t seen in far too long. I’m so desperate for it, I must be imagining it’s there.“I wasn’t there when he cast it. Niall tried something else but that just unwound the weave of the blanket and he couldn’t spell that away. Left Dev wrapped up like Frodo after the spider got to him. That’s when he shouted for me.”

Simon blinks up at me. “You didn’t use an “as you were”?

I’m not imagining it. Even his tone of voice is sharper.

I shake my head, focused on keeping my own voice calm and steady. “No, that would have just taken him back to the too-tight blankets. You know you can’t keep doing “as you were” over and over, once you’ve done another spell. It would just go back and forth between the two most recent ones.”

“How’d you get him free?” This is perhaps the most interest he’s shown in happenings at Watford since I returned to school. I can’t help the sharp flare of hope that shoots through me.

I keep my voice light. “I used scissors.”

“You did not!”

“I had to. I couldn’t think of a spell to put the blanket back together and every time I pulled on a strand it just got tighter.”

“I’ve never known you to be at a loss for a spell.” Simon narrows his eyes at me. I know this look. It usually presages him jutting his chin out in that delectable way of his. “Why didn’t you use “into thin air”?

Why the bollocks hadn’t I used that?  Hadn’t even thought of it. I had just snatched the scissors from Dev’s desk and proceeded to decimate the shreds of the blanket. Perhaps the darkening shade of Dev’s face had alarmed me too much.

I feel quite mortified about it now. Blast Niall. He didn’t think of it either.

I still can’t tamp down the rush of warmth that comes over me from Simon’s words though. Not only for his faith in me, or for his immediate ability to think of an appropriate spell for the situation, but also for that brief spark of the old Simon. That’s progress, isn’t it?

It’s more than I’ve seen so far.

I shrug. It’s a terrible habit I’ve undoubtedly picked up from him. “I’m not infallible. Dev took Niall’s blanket in recompense and made him deal with the mess we left behind. Now they’ve been fighting over how warm to keep the room since Dev’s got the only blanket.”

A flicker of a smile crosses Simon’s face. “If it was you, I’d have just made you share.”

My heart beats faster. I think I might swoon at his words, it’s not beneath me.

I don’t want to disrupt the moment though, so all I do is run my fingertip along his jawline. “You’re warm enough I wouldn’t have to share it.”

“Prick.”

“Mouth breather.”

I force myself to keep my breaths even. I can’t recall the last time he insulted me like this.

I’ve missed it.

Simon stares up at me silently and I trace the freckles along his cheek until I reach the one I’ve loved for years. I press my finger to it, keeping my tone casual as I speak. “Are you going to be a lazy bones and stay in bed all day, Snow? I thought we had plans to take you shopping today.”

I attempt to devise some reason to get him out of the house each time I come. Food, shopping, a film. I’ve not been too successful so far but I think at this point even he’s sick of wearing Premal’s old clothes.

I get him up and rummage around the untidy pile of clothing at the foot of the bed until I find a shirt. I spell it on then spell his wings and tail invisible. I can’t do much about the awful track bottoms. Does no one in this family wear jeans?

We’re definitely going to do something about the lack of them in Simon’s wardrobe today.

We wander around the city center, drifting into shops, getting coffee and scones (of course we get scones).

I eventually find an upscale men’s clothing store and drag Simon in.

“This is too posh for me, Baz,” Simon hisses in my ear as I make my way to the shelves of jeans near the back.

“Nonsense. It’s about time you dressed in something other than chavvy track bottoms and Premal’s lurid tshirts.” I flick through the jeans, eyeing Simon as I do. He’s shorter than me but with a more solid build.

At least he used to be. I’m not sure of his size anymore. He’s lost weight since the end of last term.

I won’t think about that right now.

I find a few pairs that appear to be the right size. They may be a bit long but he can just cuff them. I toss the jeans at him and move on to the shirts. He trails behind me like a forlorn puppy.

“Baz.”

“Hmm?” I’m riffling through some fitted crew neck shirts that are velvety to the touch. These will do nicely.

Simon tugs at my sleeve. “Baz. I can’t afford any of this.”  

“You can actually, with your leprechaun gold, but that’s not relevant at the moment. I’ve got this. I promised to take you shopping and this is going on my account.”

He looks as horror stricken as if I’d announced a nation-wide shortage of butter. “I can’t let you do that!”

“Why the hell not?”

“It’s too much money. I can’t have you buying me clothes.”

I put the shirts down and reach for his free hand. “Simon. I want to. I’m your boyfriend and I want to do this.” I step closer to him. “Let me do this for you, please?”

He frowns at me, eyebrows drawn to the middle of his forehead. I squeeze his hand. “What’s this really about?”

Simon’s eyes dart away and then return to me, the expression on his face harder to puzzle out now. “I just … I just don’t need all this.” He gestures with the arm holding the jeans and then rapidly clutches at them before they slide out of his grip. “I’m fine with what I’ve got. I can go to a thrift shop, find something in my size. You don’t have to do this.”

It dawns on me then that he’s never done this. Simon’s never gone into a real shop, to buy new clothes. Not even an H&M or a Uniqlo.

It’s all been hand-me-downs at the care homes or cheap thrift shop finds. Or the occasional Christmas gift from the Wellbeloves.

The only full set of new clothes he ever had were the uniforms at Watford. The ones he wore all the time.

The ones I gave him interminable amounts of grief over, back when I was just his prick of a roommate and insufferable nemesis.

It makes me furious at the Mage all over again. Couldn’t he have taken Simon to a real store, to buy some nice clothes? Just once?

I realize I’m standing here, staring at Simon, clutching his hand far too tightly. “I’m not doing it because I have to, Simon. I told you. I’m doing it because I want to. Because you deserve to have anything you need or want. New clothes. New shoes. A proper jacket. Whatever the fuck strikes your fancy, because by Crowley, why shouldn’t you?”

He blinks at me. I step closer. “Come on now. I need to see how my terrible boyfriend’s arse looks in these jeans.”

Simon flushes instantly, his expression rapidly shifting from serious to flustered. It’s adorable. “You can’t be serious, Baz.”

“I’m deadly serious about clothing, Simon. I’d think you’d know that by now.” I can’t help but smile down at him.

He huffs a laugh and I relax a little. “You’re fucking ridiculous about it, you wanker.”

“Trust my judgement then, you fashion disaster. You’re a prime candidate for a complete Queer Eye makeover.”

He actually grins at me. “Well, you’re queer enough to manage all that for me, yeah?”

I am. Challenge accepted.

We exit the shop an hour later, laden with bags. I’ve managed to find two pairs of jeans that are sinfully fitted to Simon’s form, an assortment of soft shirts that hug his muscled torso, one slim cashmere jumper that clings to his shoulders, and a brown leather jacket that nearly caused me to spontaneously combust in the shop. I’m delighted with the entire lot.

A judicious use of “clothes make the man” in the dressing room allowed the clothing to appropriately accommodate his wings and tail. I’ll have to mention that spell to Bunce.

I load our purchases into the car and find a curry shop for Simon. I linger over my kebabs, just drinking in the sight of him. The color has come back to his face, cheeks reddened by the brisk winter wind. He’s digging into his chicken tikka with a gusto that’s been sorely lacking the last few weeks.

I feel a surge of satisfaction when he eyes the lonely kebab on my plate. “You going to eat that, Baz?”

“I had considered it.” I don’t mean it. I ate more than enough samosas. I’ll put some of the Watford rats out of their misery later tonight. “Oh.” He shrugs and I can’t keep up the charade.

“Of course, you can have it, you nightmare. I saved it for you.”

Simon’s face lights up as he reaches for it. It’s the little things that give me hope that he’s making some progress. I know I can’t count on it every time. I know he’ll likely regress next week. But every little bit of improvement is a step in the right direction.

We head back to Bunce’s place in the late afternoon. The days pass far too slowly at Watford and far too swiftly when I’m with Simon. I’ll need to leave soon, to make it back before the drawbridge goes up for the night.

I make some perfunctory conversation with the Professors, indulge in a whispered exchange with Bunce while Simon hangs his new clothes in her closet, and then let Simon walk me to my car. I try to drag it out as long as I can, but the sun is sinking and I’ve got no choice but to leave now.

The chill is more pronounced as the shadows lengthen. I can’t help the shiver that runs through me. Simon wraps his arms around my waist and I revel in his heat. Even now, with his magic extinguished, he still radiates warmth. It’s comforting, though I should be the one giving comfort rather than him.

Simon rests his head on my shoulder and I bury my face in his hair, inhaling the scent of him. It’s not the smoky aroma that haunts my dreams. It’s fresh and green and holds the barest hint of that familiar fragrance.

I lightly brush my lips to his temple and he turns his face up to me, lifting his head from its resting place on my shoulder and touching his lips to mine. I hold my breath. I’ve not ventured to do more than lightly kiss his cheek or forehead, not wanting to push him, not now, not after everything.

Simon presses closer, his lips firm and warm. And just like the first time we kissed, he takes the lead and moves his mouth, doing that thing with his jaw that leaves me breathless.

My lips part and he deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against my own.

My heart is hammering in my chest, my pulse pounding in my ears. I’ve yearned for this, hungered for his touch, not daring to seek it for myself. I’ve been content with holding his hand, letting him rest his head in my lap, feeling the press of his shoulder against my own.

I’m grateful for anything he’s willing to give me.

My eyes have drifted closed as his touch heats my skin and his mouth moves against my own. I’ve missed this so very much. We may have only had two days’ worth of spectacular snogging, but Simon’s kisses have become more than just a craving to me. I need them. Like air or water. I don’t know how I’ve survived without them.

I’d dreamed of this often enough through the years, fantasized about his lips on mine, his hand sliding up my back like it is now, his shoulders underneath my grip.

The reality is far better than I’d ever hoped.

Simon pulls back and rests his forehead against mine.  Our breaths mingle, arms wrapped tightly around each other. I can’t seem to open my eyes. I know it’s not a dream, but part of me still expects it all to vanish if I do open them.

It’s only when Simon’s hand slides up to tangle in my hair that I force myself to bring my gaze to his. The blue of his eyes is so close I can see the variegated shades that make the color so unique. There’s nothing ordinary about this boy in my arms. Not now. Not ever.

“I’ll miss you.” His words are just a whisper but I can hear them clearly.

“I’ll miss you too. I’ll call, every night.” My grip on him tightens. “I’ll be back next week.”

“I want you to, but you don’t have to. I know you’ve got schoolwork to do.”

I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. “I’ve no one to distract me during the week anymore. I’m so far ahead that I could take a week off and still not fall behind. It’s not as challenging, without Bunce there to goad me on.” I press a kiss to his forehead. “I’d rather be here with you, you know that.”

Simon’s lips brush mine once more. “I’d rather have you here too.”

I make it back to Watford just in time. The drawbridge goes up just as I reach Mummers. I take a shower, sort through my papers, read next week’s Political Science assignment. I wait until ten and then I dial Simon’s number. He answers on the second ring.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“I miss you already.”

“I miss you too.”

I listen to him breathe. Words aren’t necessary. It’s enough to know he’s there.

My thanks to @basic-banshee @penpanoply and @fight-surrender for the encouragement, feedback and support for this fic during the crazy real life events going on as I was writing this.

[thedistantstorm]

Dawning Delights 11: Dawning Surprise Pt 2

Summary: Hawthorne invites her newfound family in the Tower to experience a City-Style Dawning with the family that took her in years ago. The holiday is not without it’s charm, or aggravation, and certainly has plenty of surprises in store. A season-inspired, trope-tastic story about a family forged by something greater than blood, finding reasons to enjoy the season - and cherish each other. Main Post

Pairings: Hawthorne/Zavala, Sloane/Amanda, Devrim/Marc

Amanda and her group of Guardians make it to the elevators before she whirls around abruptly. “Alright, you two,” She warns, hands falling to her hips. “Last chance.”

Saladin crosses his arms, fully intending to go down to some quaint little diner in the City. Beside her, Ikora is just as stoic, though her blank face isn’t nearly as good as the rugged Titan beside her. Saladin puts a furious Zavala to shame. “There’s nothing going on. We’re just going for something to eat before the festivities later.”

“They’re not answering my messages,” Shaxx says.

“Leave them alone.”

“Quiet, old man. I’m not talking to you.” The Crucible Handler turns to Ikora. “What’s this about?”

Ikora holds out her hands, annoyed. “Obviously it’s a secret.”

“So it’s Devrim,” Shaxx states deadpan.

“Devrim’s home?” Amanda looks at her. “Really? That’s it?”

Saladin looks to Ikora, reading her body language. He nods, slowly. “It was meant to give them privacy,” He says.

“I didn’t want Suraya to know anything was going on,” Ikora says. “Zavala has been planning this for a long time.”

Amanda’s face falls. No doubt she’s considering that similar considerations could have - should have - been made for her partner, but she wills herself past the jealousy. If it were possible, she would have tried to swing it, Sloane had said. But there was Crimson Days or some random weekend, or literally whenever she could. Their time would come.

“Yeah,” She agrees, trying to will the melancholy out of her tone and pull herself together. “I get it.”

“Well,” Shaxx says, with a pointed look to the other two Guardians in his mist. “Shall we?”

“Honestly, I think I’m going to go back and catch a nap before I go over to Marc and Dev’s,” Amanda decides, turning her back on them. She can feel the tears welling up against her will. “No sense in torturin’ ya if I’ve already gotten my answer.”

Ikora frowns. “Are you sure? We can go together, they don’t have to-”

“It’s fine, Ikora. I just need to-” She scoffs in frustration, shaking her head when she realizes she’s not fooling any of them. “I’ll be alright in a bit.”

Saladin hums, but it's more indulgent than before. "If you're sure."

She dips her head once, resolute, before she leaves them at the top of the elevators. She'd left in a hurry, and it wasn't a guess as to why.

“Why would you do that?” Ikora snarls at him, with a quick glance to confirm Amanda’s out of earshot. “How tactless can you possibly be, Shaxx?”

“I’m not stupid” Shaxx says, gesturing to Ikora as if she holds all the answers. “It will be fine-”

Saladin exhales. His dark eyes are filled with disappointment. “You crushed her.”

“Oh, it will be fine.” He waves a hand at Ikora nonchalantly. “She’s got Sloane coming in.”

Ikora looks up at the sky, as if lamenting her existence for a brief moment. Then, she propositions her Ghost. “Ophiuchus, would you please see what her ETA is?”

“You’re changing the plan,” Her Ghost comments, already two steps ahead.

She crosses her arms. “I’m only considering it,” She tells her partner.

“Suraya-”

“Will not be thinking about this, I assure you.” She steps into Shaxx’s personal space to regard him, her lean, slighter frame not intimidated by his larger one. “Infuriating me won’t get me back in the Crucible,” She reminds him in an alto that’s as deadly as it is smooth. She turns away from him in a movement that’s indicative of the poise and grace she brings to the battlefield. “I apologize for dragging you into things,” She says to the Iron Lord. “I was hoping to avoid this particular issue.”

Saladin eyes Shaxx, who doesn’t so much as flinch under the scrutiny. “Even the best-laid plans have their challenges,” The Iron Lord says sagely. “If you believe I can help, have your Ghost reach out.”

“I think I’ll be able to handle it,” Ikora answers with a dip of her head in the affirmative, “But I will.”

-/

"It's better to seek forgiveness than ask permission," Ikora says aloud to Ophiuchus, after a solid ten minutes of pacing in front of her post.

"You're worried," He warbles. She doesn't like being told that, but his Ghost accepts his place as her guide to emotional awareness. Someone had to look out for her.

"I don't want anything to ruin this for them, especially if it's not necessary," She replies. Ophiuchus declines affirming that as worry. "I could fix all of this. It alters the plan, but-"

"You can always blame Shaxx," He supposes. "It is his fault, after all. I'm relatively sure that's what Lord Saladin would do."

Ikora waves a hand. "I know that," She snarks back. "What is her ETA again?"

"About an hour."

"Alright." She takes a deep breath. "I'm going to talk to Amanda."

"Ikora."

His Guardian turns, tilting her head in curiosity. It makes her seem younger. She has seemed that way to him lately. She might be the most intelligent person he's ever encountered, but when it comes to her feelings, she has much to learn about herself (despite how she makes every attempt to appear otherwise).

He hovers, cones spinning without a sound. "Good idea."

She nods curtly before taking to the exit. He hopes she understands what he's saying in not so many words.

Ophiuchus turns back to the Traveler, tips his single eye up to look at this year's intricate Dawning Star. "I'm proud of you," He says to the open air when she's gone.

He doesn't imagine the answering tug, a warm shiver over the bond they share that comes in reply.

-/

Amanda does not want to answer her door. Ikora contemplates that she might actually be sleeping, but she doesn't stop the insistent knocking. Eventually it will rouse her.

Although, she hears the sound of a mug hitting the table just inside the door and realizes that Amanda definitely isn't sleeping. She just doesn't want to answer.

"Amanda, let me in," She calls, trying not to cause a scene. Certainly other people are home during this early hour of the day, and she'd rather not draw attention to what's going on. "Please," She adds as an afterthought.

The sound of a chair scraping is followed by the tiniest click of the door being unlocked. It opens a crack. "I'm fine, Ikora."

"No, you're not," The Warlock says with authority. "May I come in?"

She scoffs and rolls her eyes. "I guess," She grouses, returning to the table and plunking herself back down on it. Aside from the small refrigerator, which is a mess of post-it notes, her small flat is clean. Which means it was done recently. Amanda's not normally so neat and tidy. She doesn't offer Ikora a drink - and Ikora doesn't ask - so that she knows Amanda isn't really thrilled she's there. "Listen," The Shipwright admits, sounding tired. "I just need to sulk a bit. I'll be fine."

"You're jealous."

Blinking, Amanda's face morphs into something ugly, a bitter smile setting into place. "A'course I'm jealous, Ikora! Ain't Zavala's fault. I know Sloane's important."

"She is," Ikora agrees. "And I understand. Not in the same way, but-"

"It's just hard," The Shipwright interjects. "I don't wanna feel this way. I was doin' good, and then-"

"Shaxx."

"Yeah."

Ikora looks down at her hands, fingers curled together, resting on the table. "If Zavala hadn't been so caught up in his planning, he might have told you in advance," She reasons. "You'll have to forgive his oversight. He didn't think it was logistically possible or he would have made arrangements, I'm sure."

"I know."

"I mean," She looks to the clock on the wall. She unfolds her hands, gesturing slightly, "There'd be a lot of things to figure out, especially since she has so many responsibilities, and she's abroad."

"Yeah. I get it, Ikora."

"It would have to be planned months in advance," She continues. "Someone would have to approve her leave, it would be-"

"Wouldja stop it?" Amanda cries. Her eyes are stormy. "I got it. I get why she can't. I just miss her, okay?"

Ikora rears back, crossing her arms. She looks almost stunned, and that's alarming to Amanda.

"I'm sorry," The younger woman whispers. "I told ya I just needed to be alone. I didn't mean-"

"I'm not very good at consoling, am I?" Ikora stretches lips, making them thin. "Well." She reaches inside her robes and pulls out an envelope, sliding it across the table. "This will have to do."

"What is it?"

"A Dawning Present."

"You didn't have to-"

"That," Ikora admits, rising from her seat, "Was from Hawthorne."

She pulls out the papers, unfolding them as Ikora heads for the door. "It's dated for two months ago," Amanda says, looking at the stamp at the top. A sharp breath makes her seize, shocked eyes flicking up to Ikora.

"But-"

"Zavala hadn't been able to manage because Hawthorne had already requisitioned our available resources. He couldn't find anyone because they were already in place." Ikora hums. "That's not important, though."

Amanda still stares, gobsmacked. "So-" She puts her hands to her mouth and tries to breathe. "You mean-"

"The plan," Ikora reveals, "Was that she would meet you tonight. Surprise you. We figured - not that Hawthorne knew about Devrim, but," The Warlock smiles. "We planned to keep you positive, as best we could."

Incredulous, Amanda asks, "Why are you telling me this? Why ruin the surprise?"

She shrugs, a tiny hint of a grin curving her lips upward. "Well, I figured it might cheer you up to be the one doing the surprising."

-/

He turns around the moment he hears her come into the room, hands coming together behind his back, left hand fitted into the palm of his right. He swallows hard, then meets her eyes.

Her cheeks are flushed pink from crying, but her eyes are bright. Radiant, he thinks. She wipes away errant moisture from them with a shaky little laugh before crossing the distance between them.

"Thank you," She says, and he's not sure he's ever felt the words have more meaning. Her eyes search his. He cannot look away. "This really is the best Dawning ever," She says. "Nothing could top this."

The smile doesn't leave his face when his eyes close into the kiss she presses against his lips. "I am glad you think so," He rumbles. "I know we agreed not to do gifts, but… I wanted to do it right."

"You did. I just…" Her brows furrow, "Wish there was something I could do for you."

He feels his chest tighten. This was the place. The opening in the conversation. He takes her left hand with his right. "You already have," He intones softly, just above a whisper. Her smile widens, and it's beautiful. Breathtakingly unrestrained.

"Hardly," She laughs. "I barely did any of the work."

"Well," He muses, feeling the jitter of nerves hit him full-force. It feels like his heart could fly right out of his chest. "If that's how you feel, then perhaps," Confusion crosses her features when he inhales sharply to diffuse some of the nerves but he presses on, his left hand coming around to his side, "Perhaps I could ask for something."

The breath in her lungs abandons her when he dips down, one knee touching the floor. He'd abandoned the box earlier (it sits innocently atop the mantle in the same place as it had been left for him last night). Only the top arch of the ring and it’s crystalline stone peeks through his fingers.

"What are you doing?" She asks, lip trembling. "Zavala." He squeezes her fingers, and she can see the sheen in his eyes, the crossover between anxiety and nerves, but more than that, the conviction. He means it. This is not a drill.

"You know what I'm doing," He says, when her lips move to form the question again. "Suraya Hawth-"

"This is what you want for the Dawning?" She blurts.

"No," He looks up at her as if she is the Sun and he is blessed to orbit around her. His thumb brushes over the knuckles of her hand, the ring still held in earnest between them. "This is what I want, always."

She does cry at that: two rebellious tears make a break for it. It's hard not to; He leads by example. Words mean something to him.

"Okay," She says, sniffling as she nods.

"Okay?" He looks around pointedly, as if to make sure there's nothing else that might delay things further.

"Yeah." Nodding, more tears escaping, she smiles. He returns it as she exhales, fanning her face with her free hand before focusing. "Okay. I'm ready."

She watches him look down to their joined hands: pale blue and sunkissed brown, like Earth and sky, night and day. For a man so old, he is so pure. Innocent, in a way. Human, Suraya realizes, squeezing his hand. He returns it, "Suraya, you have taught me so much. About our people. About hope," He continues. "About myself. Simply by being who you are."

Her lip trembles again.

“I look forward to being with you. Even the most insignificant moments we share are precious to me. I’ve lived a long time. Too long, perhaps. But no one - past, present, or future - will ever come close to you. I love you more every single day.”

“That was a good speech,” She whispers.

He chuckles. “That wasn’t what I planned,” He admits. “I had one prepared, but-” He shrugs. It’s more of a testament to his nerves than anything.

“It was great,” She admits. “I mean look at me,” She gestures to her face and the fact that she’s actively crying. “I’m a mess.”

“In my eyes, you are the most beautiful woman in the system.” Zavala pauses, and she knows what comes next. She can’t help but smile in disbelief anyway. “Suraya Hawthorne, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” She gasps, sharply, flashing her teeth as they worry her lower lip. She doesn’t have to think about it, really.

She’s giddy, laughing in the seconds that follow, as he slides the ring on her finger. It’s a perfect fit. She looks down it for a heartbeat before hauling him the rest of the way up to standing, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing the living daylight out of him.

It occurs to her, midway through, to pull back. “How is this a Dawning present for you? You literally got me a ring.”

“This was precisely what I wanted.” He kisses her nose before she tucks her head against his shoulder, relishing the quiet, tight embrace. “I was hoping you’d say yes. We didn’t exactly talk about this, but I didn’t know how to ask without… asking.”

“Yeah,” Suraya agrees. “I’m glad you did,” She says, holding out her hand to examine the ring on it. “Ask me,” She elaborates.

“As am I.” He takes both her hands in his, fingers finding the band, pulling it up between them. “I didn’t want it to be too much, but-”

“It’s beautiful. Not anything I’d ever expect, but,” She waves her hand around, admiring the glint of the perfectly round stone and can’t help but smile. “It’s perfect. You did such a good job. Honestly, how did you get them not to come check on us?”

“They’re definitely spying,” He murmurs. “The door to the dining room is ajar.”

“They knew.” He nods. “You asked them?”

“Was I not supposed to?” He replies, concerned.

Suraya lets out some disgruntled - but not angry sound. Her left hand finds its way to Zavala’s chest in an affirming gesture before she turns to face the door on the other side of the room. “Alright you guys, quit eavesdropping and get in here.”

To her surprise, it isn’t Marc who comes barreling in, but Devrim who parts from a teary Marc. “He just needs a moment. Happy tears, I assure you.”

“That was so beautiful,” Marc warbles from the now-open door, dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief likely stolen from Devrim’s pocket. Above him, Zavala’s Ghost hovers with quietly, but there’s something fond in the way her optic finds her Guardian and dips in a pleased sort of curtsey.

Zavala’s goes from having one arm around Suraya to withdrawing it in order to shake Devrim’s outstretched hand. “Congratulations, the both of you,” He says, clearing his throat in a way that betrays his own emotional state. He leans into the gesture, patting the new, more official addition to the family on the back. The militiaman’s sky blue eyes are sharp yet sincere. “Well done.”

“Thank you for the pointers,” Zavala returns.

“Traveler take me, you gave him pointers?” Marc gushes, tears forgotten. He thumps his husband on the back. “And you didn’t tell me?”

Devrim nods to Suraya, his happiness apparent. She licks her lips before turning to Marc. “Want to see the ring?”

“DO I WANT TO SEE THE RING?” Marc all but shrieks, laughing as he yanks his daughter’s hand away from her side. “Give me your hand.”

“I thought he would have peeked,” Zavala murmurs to Devrim, the two of them stepping back to let Marc fawn properly over her.

“Ikora might have advised against it,” Devrim comments dryly. "She's a touch intimidating and we didn't want to ruin the surprise."

Suraya turns back to look at them, only to jerk when Marc grabs her hand for closer - less fidgety - inspection. “Get used to this, kid,” He tells her, dragging her back into the conversation and arching her fingers as to better examine the glint of the diamond. “Everyone who comes through here will be all over this hand. You’re an engaged woman now.”

“This is surreal.” She looks around, gaze landing on her now fiance - how weird, but in a good way, she hasn’t completely processed it yet - and his Ghost. Prying her hand from her father’s (she’s certain he’ll be dragging her around by it throughout the rest of the festivities), she approaches the floating bot.

“Congratulations,” The tiny being says. “I’ve known for a while. I’m glad you agreed.”

“How could I not?” Of all those in the room, this is the one that does not need any explanation - well, it’s hardly likely any of them do. But the Ghost knows far better than most why she wouldn’t refuse Zavala’s proposal. She’s the most privy to their relationship, considering her own unique bond with him.

“Yeah,” She supposes, looking up to her Guardian. “We sure know how to pick them, huh?”

[thecruciblegavemeyou]

swim au

so close yet so far (to the end) 

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12

ao3

Simon

I woke up in Baz’s arms for the second morning in a row (well technically he was in my arms yesterday). It was by far my favorite thing. Maybe even more than Cook Pritchard’s sour cherry scones (maybe, they’re damn good scones).

Waking up felt even better, knowing that I’d never have to see David again. The police had aided me in filing a restraining order, and he would go to trial for his domestic abuse, drug, and money issues (apparently he hadn’t paid any taxes on the shack in a long time).

Being this close to him, I was wrapped up in the scent of his cedar and bergamot soap (and candle, and shampoo, and cologne, I think). All Baz’s things smelled of cedar and bergamot, and I’d never had the courage to ask why.

His fingers were cold on my skin, lightly wrapped around my hip. I took advantage of my situation to watch him; I rarely got the chance to see Baz at his most vulnerable. I hope that will change given that we’re… something else. Not enemies; and I told him we weren’t friends, but neither of us actually said it was something more. My stomach twisted with that thought, but I was (mostly) certain he felt the same.

I don’t know if he’s ready to be open about our this with the whole school. Baz has always been a really private person, even with people he didn’t hate. Whenever I used to question Dev or Niall about Baz’s plots or whereabouts, they didn’t have a clue.

No wonder Agatha had always been attracted to him. Who doesn’t like a good mystery?

I’d spent seven years trying to map Baz out; his every move, every expression, every word.

I failed.

Ultimately, I missed the biggest secret Baz was keeping. This (he went to extensive lengths to hide his feelings, though. I think pushing me down the stairs was too far). I think I needed to miss it until now. I don’t think I was ready for something like this before now, even if Baz was. Something real. If I found out a year ago, let alone a month ago, how Baz felt, or worse; how I felt, I would’ve lost it. Fallen off the end of the Earth, my whole world upside down (it was still upside down now, but I think it’s good. It’s really good). I didn’t want to mess this thing with Baz up, not the way I messed up with Agatha (over and over again).

I messed up badly with Agatha. And this time, she messed up with me. It was quite a new (and not really pleasant) feeling. I hoped she didn’t feel like this every time I fucked over our relationship.

That doesn’t mean I don’t want to be her friend still.

A bird on the window sill interrupted my train of thought, and Baz stirred. His eyes fluttered open, meeting mine.

He furrowed his brow, “Don’t look at me like that,”

“Like what?” I smirked.

“Like… like you don’t hate me.” he squirmed.

“I don’t hate you.” (quite the opposite, really).

“Are we… what is this?” he wrinkled his nose. I didn’t even know Baz was physically capable of looking that cute. My gut wrenched (partially because he kneed me in the groin on accident, but still).

I shrugged (not the best response). The way he was looking at me was making me nervous. He wants this too, Simon.

“Aren’t you still dating Wellbelove?” he whispered.

Now I was the one squirming, “Um… no. definitely not.”

“What did you do, Snow?”

I giggled nervously. I recounted my spat with Agatha the other night and before I knew it, he was laughing. I rarely got to hear him laugh.

“Good thing that I was already gay for you that day she tracked me down.” He laughed.

“You were?”

He shook his head,“Oh Snow, you have no idea. You oblivious boy.”

I blushed.

“So no. I’m not dating Wellbelove. I think… I think I’m dating Baz Pitch.”

Baz had opened his mouth to speak, but with that he closed it again, forming a shy smile, “Yeah, yeah .”

I crawled forward to kiss him. I hung over him, and I taunted him until he gave in and reached up to kiss me. I wish I had known Baz’s weaknesses sooner. I ran a hand through his hair (which was soft and silky, unlike mine that was more chlorine than hair). He pressed his lips onto the mole under my chin, following the trail down to the top hem of my shirt. I was tempted to let him take it off, but that goddamn bird squawked again (I don’t know what the whole fuss is over birdsong, it sounds like noise to me) reminding me it’s time for breakfast. If I was late twice in a row, especially on a Saturday, she would know something was up (and she wouldn’t give up until I caved).

“I’ve got to go.”

“You’re fucking with me, really?” Baz complained, letting me up.

I (attempted to) raise an eyebrow “unless you want Penny to figure out what’s up…?’

He rolled his eyes, but let me go without another protest.

Baz was still tossing around in his blankets as I made my way towards the door, “aren’t you getting up for breakfast?”

He shook his head.

“Do you want me to bring you something?”

He shrugged (yes). I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face as I left.

It had snowed a little last night; a dusting like the last time. This time I remembered my jumper and a scarf. I was practically skipping across the courtyard when I ran (literally) into Agatha.

“Merlin, Simon. Is your head made of stone?” she groaned.

“Sorry, Ags. Really. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

She nodded. After a moment of painful silence, I started towards the cafeteria again.

“I, uhh… I’ll just be going.”

Agatha grabbed my arm, spinning me back around to face her. “Simon. I really am sorry, you know. It was a childish mistake.”

“I… yeah. But that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t really think this is meant to be.”

Half of me expected her to be upset by that, but the fact that she wasn’t proved my point.

“You’re right. I’m not your golden destiny, and you’re not mine. I don’t really think there’s such a thing.” She smiled, but was hollow; blending in with the bleach white courtyard and the frigid air.

I shifted my weight. “I still care about you.”

This smile wasn’t nearly as empty. I didn’t need words to know she still cared about me too. Everything was just different now.

She left me alone in the courtyard with a ghost fo a kiss on my cheek and a squeeze of my hand.

As I made my way towards the dining hall, I knew I would be late.

I didn’t really care. I’m glad that my spat with Agatha was resolved. I didn’t have many friends to lose.

Nothing between us would ever be like it was before, but I was quite certain that was more of a positive (just like my newfound relationship with Baz).

I wonder what Agatha would think of me and Baz. Does she still have feelings for him? I was half-tempted to ask her earlier, but it wasn’t really the right moment. I wonder what Penny would think. She’d probably remind me that I’m straight (am I?). Or that I hate Baz. Or that Baz hates me.

I wish that the dining hall wasn’t so far from my dorms (they were the two farthest buildings on campus). It’s like someone designed it to torture me (or coerce me into exercising). When I opened the doors, I was hit by the smell of bacon and eggs and scones and warm maple syrup.

As I found my seat next to Penny, guilt pooled in my stomach. Pen and I never kept secrets. But this wasn’t just my secret; it was Baz’s secret too. I couldn’t really tell Penny about Baz being gay (or that I was gay for him back) without hurting him (which was the last thing I wanted to do).

The cafeteria was always emptier on weekends, because everyone chose sleeping over food. I always wondered why they didn’t just make breakfast later.

Penny pushed some food around her plate. “Agatha told me about your fight.”

“Oh. Well I - I just spoke to her or my way over. I think we’re okay now.”

She nodded. “Maybe dating will finally work for you too, know that you’ve both gotten past your issues.”

I dropped my fork, starling her and Gareth behind me. “ No, no. We’re not dating. We’re just friends. We’re both done with that. Really.”

“Oh?” penny’s facial expressions were strikingly similar to Baz’s.

I shrugged, and the rest of the meal went on in peace.

“So… if you two are really on good terms, does that mean we can have a sleepover party tonight like we did when we were younger?” Penny pleaded.

I’d forgotten about that. I used to sneak into Agatha’s room with Penny at night, and the three of us would hang out and watch movies on Agatha’s phone (her parents had the unlimited data plan).

“Has Agatha agreed to that?”

“She said she was up for it if you were.”

I smiled, “I’ll see you tonight. Same time?”

“Seven o’clock.”

[fell-in-love-didnt-you]

Worth Fighting For: SnowBaz Fanfic

There’s something Simon finds completely unsettling about noise.

It’s piercing, loud, and too much of a sensory overload. However, the lack of noise is also quite unsettling. He doesn’t know which he would prefer if he had to choose. He does know, though, that anything other than the deafening ring that’s blaring right now would be amazing.

Just seconds before, everyone was talking. They were all pestering him, getting into his personal space, asking if he was alright or if he needed anything. Eventually, Baz got them to leave the room. Agatha was the last to leave, having to be dragged away by Penny.

“And what the hell can you do for him that we can’t?” she had yelled at Baz.

“Agatha,” Penny insisted, clasping a hand around her upper arm, “now is hardly the time!” Dev and Niall had looked back from their place on the stairs, perhaps considering if they needed to step in. “Come on,” Penny continued, looking Simon in the eyes with a look that conveyed a silent, upset apology.

“Fine!” Agatha had shouted, breaking her arm free from Penny’s grasp and pushing past Dev and Niall, bounding down the stairs and into the night.

“We’ll come ‘round tomorrow,” Penny murmured. Then, as if she thought better of what she had said, she added, “Well, perhaps just me, and I can collect Dev and Niall as well.”

“Thank you, Penelope,” Baz rasped out, his voice long gone, “for everything tonight. We’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, Penny quietly walked out of the doorway and down the stairs, and Baz closed the door.

This leaves them where they were now. Simon looks up at Baz, holding the cold icepack against his bruising cheek and swelling jaw. Baz turns around from his place against the door and walks over to Simon, sitting on the chair opposite him.

“I know that they were all bombarding you earlier with this question,” Baz begins, “but are you really okay?” Simon nods, stifling the groan he feels at the pulsing pain. Baz brings his hand up, lightly taking the icepack away from Simon’s face and inspecting the damage. “That was such an idiotic thing you did,” he adds.

“I was protecting you,” Simon insists, reaching out his bruised knuckles and lightly running his finger over the several cuts above Baz’s eyebrow. “The spell they cast at you was weak, but you were hurt. What else was I supposed to do?”

“Maybe assess the situation first,” Baz suggests with a hint of disdain very present in his voice. “You’re right when you say that the spell was weak. But that also means I could’ve easily handled myself.”

Simon shakes his head, this time failing to conceal his pain. “That’s not what matters here. They hurt you, and it wasn’t like I was going to wait and ‘assess the situation’. I guess I just wasn’t considering the fact that people who have friends will be helped when you punch them.”

Baz gets a sarcastic chuckle out of that, then replies with, “You may be brave, but you’re such an idiot sometimes.” He then murmurs, “Get well soon,” and Simon immediately feels a rush of warm magic spreading soothingly into the side of his face.

“Thank you,” Simon whispers. He hums at the aftermath of Baz’s magic flowing through him. It’s not like his own that’s all burning and smoky and harmful. Baz’s magic is like the soothing heat of a fire after a harsh snowstorm. It lingers and runs through Simon’s veins slowly, spreading a previously unknown warmth everywhere.

When Simon opens his eyes, Baz is looking at him quite seriously. The cuts above his eyebrows have dissipated, which makes Simon think that Baz used that healing spell on himself as well. “Simon,” Baz utters, and his voice is smooth again. It comes from low in the back of his throat, and he continues. “I know that you know that not everyone is as accepting and enthusiastic about this a Penelope has been. Hell, I didn’t even get to tell Dev and Niall. I’m pretty sure Dev’s intuition was enough for him, but I think Niall was in the dark. And I think Penelope was the one who went and said something to someone.

“All I’m saying is that you can’t expect everyone to love this.” He clenches his jaw and bites his lower lip, which Simon has noticed he only does when he’s thinking about something rather difficult. “You can’t fight everyone who doesn’t agree with this. With us.”

Simon nods numbly, though he wishes Baz was wrong. He wishes that he could shake people’s shoulders until they understood that this was the same love everyone else who didn’t have to come out has to give to their partners. Simon wishes he could break down the invisible barrier that history put up between people like him and Baz and people like Penny and Micah. (Even though Penny isn’t technically as straight as a pole.)

“Okay,” Simon agrees, closing his eyes and nodding once more. “I understand.” Baz smiles weakly, and Simon is sure that he feels the exact same way. It’s actually probably worse for Baz. Simon knows he grew up in a home with enough closets to get lost in, and he knows that Mr. Pitch hasn’t exactly accepted the idea of Simon ravishing his one and only son. Though his stepmother is quite nice, even if it just is so Simon doesn’t feel like a raging lunatic in their mansion.

Baz brushes his thumb over the spot where Simon’s bruise was and licks his bottom lip again, this time slow and deliberate, like he’s debating on whether or not it was a good move. Slowly, Simon leans in closer to where Baz’s face was already close and closes his eyes. Baz doesn’t wait, moving in as well and meeting Simon halfway.

Simon realized long ago that kissing Baz was so amazingly different than kissing Agatha. Kissing Agatha was easy, and it always felt like somewhat of a chore. Kissing Baz is easy, but it’s also the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. It’s more difficult than ancient texts that he has to decipher in class, easier than breathing, and just about as difficult as a maze is. Simon has to keep his hands low but also know when to move them but also know when too much is too much for Baz and himself alike.

So when he pulls back, it’s not because he doesn’t want to stay. It’s because that’s the only way he knows to keep Baz. Simon is constantly terrified of ruining…this…whatever that may be. They haven’t actually asked to be boyfriends, and Simon knows that should be the furthest thing from his mind right now. He should be worrying about the trouble he could get in for fighting or about the test he has to study for, if he’s even allowed at the school by this time tomorrow, but all he can think about is Baz. And Baz’s lips. And Baz’s lips on his own.

“You should rest.” It’s Baz who speaks, and it’s after a minute of knowing silence passes between them. A silence that’s comfortable, where Simon’s eyes are closed, and their faces are only centimeters apart. If he wanted to, Simon could reach out and pull him back in for another kiss. ‘Just one more. For me.’

“I know,” is the whispered reply from Simon. “I should do a lot of things. Like not fight complete arseholes where anyone could see me.” Baz just smiles that one. It’s his smile that says that he’s trying not to laugh because Simon is a dork and not funny and…and Baz runs out of things to tell himself after that.

“Sleep, Simon,” he mutters, standing slowly and outstretching his hand. Simon takes it, walking to their two beds to make one that they share together. Simon strips of everything but his boxers, slipping into the silk sheets that Baz’s family always sends him to school with. He makes fun of it every year they come back, though this year it was definitely playful. Baz joins after a moment, making Simon scoot over until his back is pressed comfortably against Baz’s front.

“Goodnight, Snow,” he murmurs into the skin at the nape of Simon’s neck.

“Goodnight, Baz.”

[tact-and-impulse]

Women of Ruroken Week 2017, Day 7

I  wrote most of this, just in the past couple hours. I had a lot of fun though, so thank you for holding the event, @womenofrurokenweek!

Free Day

One morning, Dr. Oguni entered the hospital, and he wasn’t alone. Noticing Tsubame’s curious gaze, he told her. “These are my granddaughters. Their parents have gone on an overseas business trip, so they’re staying with me. Unfortunately, the babysitter had to cancel, so I’m bringing them in. They shouldn’t be any trouble.”

“I-it should be alright. It’s Golden Week, so maybe, it won’t be as busy.” Tsubame smiled at the two little girls. “Good morning. I’m Tsubame.”

“My name’s Ayame.” She must have been the older one, and she was fiddling with one of the braids in her hair.

“And I’m Suzume.” The younger sister piped up. “Hello!”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Ayame and Suzume.” She glanced at Dr. Oguni, who was trying flattery, to get meal vouchers from one of the receptionists. “How old are you?”

“Five!”

“Eight. How about you, onee-san?” Ayame asked.

“Er…eighteen.”

The girls glanced at each other, before Suzume declared. “Wow, that’s old.”

“Ah…” Tsubame felt like crying. “I’m still a student…”

The little girl gasped. “You’re in school? Why?”

“I want to be a doctor someday, because I want to support others.”

“I don’t know what I want to do.” Ayame honestly said. “Maybe, a doctor too? Like Ojii-san, but not really.”

Tsubame had to agree, that Dr. Oguni was too flippant to be a proper example. “Then, why don’t you ask girls like me? We can tell you more, about why we work here.”

Then, Dr. Oguni turned back to them. “Girls, let’s go.”

“Okay. Goodbye.” Ayame called out, as they were led away.

Suzume wasn’t to be outdone, adding a hop to her step. “Bye-bye!”

Tsubame gave a cheerful wave. “Have a good day.”

***

Megumi quickly reapplied her lipstick, as she looked into the bathroom mirror. Today would be a good day to catch up on filing, and she had to read that interesting publication, which detailed research done in her hometown of Aizu. She paused.

Were those children’s voices? She glanced around, wondering why she didn’t see a parental figure or nurse. If they weren’t visiting or patients, what would they be doing here?

Two girls emerged from the stalls. They were both younger than ten, and their chatter stopped when they saw Megumi. Shyly, they headed for the farthest sink.

“Come on, Suzume. Let’s wash our hands.”

The sink was too tall for the younger girl, Suzume. The older girl must have been her sister, because she tried to lift her. But it didn’t quite work, Suzume’s feet only dangled off the ground.

Exasperated, Megumi walked over, urging the older girl aside and easily lifting the little sister by the waist. “There. If you need help, you shouldn’t be afraid to ask for it.”

“Thank you, obaa-san.” Suzume said.

Her mouth twitched. “No, I’m onee-san.”

“Do you work here, onee-san?” The older girl caught on quickly.

“Yes, I’m Dr. Takani. Now, who should be looking after you two? What’s your surname?”

“I’m Oguni Ayame.”

“Oh, you’re Dr. Oguni’s granddaughters. He did send an e-mail about the two of you accompanying him.” She set Suzume down, for she had finished washing her hands. “I didn’t see him outside. I should tell him that you two cannot be left alone.” She opened the door for them.

“Why are you a doctor?” Suzume inquired.

“Why? Because people need me, and I will do anything to save them.” And to atone for those she couldn’t.

Dr. Oguni was at the end of the hallway, drinking from a bottle of tea. He strode to them, and his granddaughters left Megumi for him. “Oh, I see you’ve met Dr. Takani. Thank you, by the way.”

“I hope you don’t lose them again, Dr. Oguni.” She dryly said, but spared a smile to the girls before she headed for the workspace.

***

Tae filled two small bowls with sukiyaki, and placed them before Dr. Oguni’s granddaughters. They thanked her, and ate happily. It was quiet in the rest of the cafeteria; the lunch hour had just begun, and the rush wouldn’t start for another fifteen minutes.

After handing over meal vouchers, the doctor conversed with her. “I’ve seen you in the hospital as well, as a regular employee.”

“Usually, yes, I am. I thought of becoming a nutritionist, once. But instead, I work for them as a receptionist.”

“Why don’t you run this kiosk full-time? Many of the staff would be grateful.”

“I considered it. However, I realized that I like being involved, in educating people how to eat. I’m considering going back for my degree.”

“Your customers will support you.” He turned back to Ayame and Suzume, who had stopped to listen. “The soup will get cold. Or would you two rather have something else?”

Suzume shook her head. “It’s yummy.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“School has a nutritionist too, for making lunch.” Ayame thought aloud.

“Yes, they would be important in your school. They tell people how to be healthy, by eating the right things.”

“And that’s fun?”

“It’s enjoyable for me.” She replied. “Food is important, in keeping you healthy. But it should be delicious too, so you eat it.”

“Bunny onigiri are delicious and healthy.” Suzume spoke up.

Tae laughed. “Yes, if you fill them right.”

When they left, Dr. Oguni was being pestered about rabbit-shaped rice balls for tonight’s dinner.

***

Uki frowned. Those two little girls seemed to be lost, they were far too old to be anywhere near the NICU. Tokio-san would have approached them without a second thought, but she had an appointment with her obstetrician.

Gingerly, Uki approached them. “Hi there. Are you looking for someone?”

“Our grandpa. He went out, and he isn’t back yet. We wanted to find him.” The older girl said.

“Does he work on this floor?”

“He’s Dr. Oguni.”

Uki was unfamiliar with the name, but she returned to her chair. “I’ll call the lobby so he can pick you up.” She did, and heard from his division that he was in with a patient who needed counseling. She told the girls that he was occupied. “You’ll just have to wait.” She expected them to sit quietly, but apparently, they just woke up from their afternoon nap and were too energetic. After chasing each other from wall to wall, they introduced themselves to her and eagerly talked.

“What’s your job?” The younger sister, Suzume, jumped up and down.

“I’m a nurse.”

“Do you like it?”

“Sometimes. It’s hard work, but I care about the patients. We take care of sick babies here, and I want to help them get better.”

“Oh.” Suzume paused. “Can we see them?”

“No, they’re sleeping.”

Ayame was contemplative, and she eyed the pens on the other side of the counter. She reached for one. “We can make cards for them, to tell them ‘get well soon’. They would be cheered up.”

The babies couldn’t read, but the task would keep the waiting girls busy. She handed them two sheets of printer paper and blue pens. After noting that they were engrossed in scribbling, she returned to her work.

Eventually, Dr. Oguni retrieved them, and the ‘cards’ were given to Uki. The papers were covered in doodles of the spring weather and messy hiragana, but the sentiment was appreciated. She taped them to the windows, across from the incubators.

***

Misao almost tripped over them, as she was heading for the vending machine. They shrieked and she gasped. “Oh, sorry!” She righted the two girls, steadying them so they wouldn’t fall. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, we are.” The older one answered, patting down her younger, startled sister. But the smaller girl began to hiccup, tears welling in her eyes.

“Ah, I must have scared you.” Misao winced, feeling terrible.

“It’s okay. Come on, Suzume, don’t be a crybaby.”

“I’m not a crybaby! You’re mean, Ayame!” Then, they began to fight, yelling at each other. The noise would be disruptive, and Misao hurriedly searched her pockets. The kaleidoscopes were for patients, and she only had enough money to buy drinks for everyone in the workspace. But, this pocket did have something.

“Hey! If you two make up, I’ll give you these.” She pulled out two miniature chocolate bars, still in their wrapping. She could spare them, she still had more in her desk. “Go on, hold hands and apologize to each other. Then, I’ll give you the candy.”

The girls grudgingly obeyed.

“Sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

“Aw, you’re good girls, aren’t you? Here, one for you and for you too.” She passed a candy to each of them, and they sullenly chewed. “I’ll take you back to your grandpa, I heard that he brought you in today.” She matched their pace, as they walked.

“Thank you for the chocolate.” Ayame said.

“No problem. I like seeing people’s smiles, when they feel better. Do you two feel better?”

“Yes.” Suzume answered. “It was sweet.”

“Well, great, my job’s done here!” They reached the correct department, and she stayed long enough to see Dr. Oguni scold them for leaving for the bathroom, when he wasn’t available. The girls were calm though, and Misao started to whistle as she left.

***

At long last, the day was over. Kaoru was about to take the elevator down to the lobby, when Dr. Oguni entered with his granddaughters. He was carrying them, for they looked worn out.

“And I thought I wouldn’t get to see Ayame and Suzume today.” She greeted the girls, and they sleepily replied.

She had already finished her rotation with Dr. Oguni, but he was interested in how she was doing. “How was your first week with the dermatology division?”

“It was good, thank you. But I still prefer family medicine and pediatrics.” She admitted.

They talked a little, over her future plans. She wouldn’t be in pediatrics until the end of summer, but that was fine with her. She was willing to wait, for her true goal. In the meantime, she would do her best in the other divisions and learn what she could.

Finally, the elevator stopped. When they walked out, Ayame stirred. “Kaoru-nee? Do you like it here?”

“Of course. Some days are better than others, but I can’t turn away, from people who are suffering. And, I believe in the importance of life. To take care of others’ health, that’s to devote yourself to life.”

“That’s cool.” Suzume must have been imitating someone she heard, because it sounded so unlike her. Kaoru laughed.

“The two of you can do it, if you want to be the same. And you know what, if anyone says otherwise,” She leaned in, to fiercely whisper. “Tell them you can.” She was rewarded, with their delighted, determined expressions.

Dr. Oguni departed in a different direction, and as he did, Kaoru heard Ayame’s little voice again.

“Ojii-san? I want to work here someday.”

Suzume joined in. “Me too, me too.”

“That makes your grandfather very proud.” Dr. Oguni said, and he meant it.

The sun was setting and the warmth of the day still lingered in the air. On her way home, Kaoru smiled.

[angelsfalling16]

Chapter 2 of Just Wanna Be Happy

Chapter One

Read it on ao3

Summary: After a night of drunken party games, Baz tries to remember what happened and whose number is on his arm while also dealing with the fact his two best friends aren’t talking to each other anymore.

Word Count: 2557

***

Dev

I don’t know why anyone likes this game. Niall has already kissed two people, and he hasn’t even gotten a chance to spin yet. He’s sitting two people over from me, and he’s up next. I try not to watch as he spins it, telling myself that it doesn’t matter who it lands on, but I must be some kind of masochist because I forced myself to watch him kiss those other guys, and I’m preparing myself to do it again.

I watch him as he firmly grips the bottle and twists his wrist to spin it. My eyes stay on his hand for a moment, lingering on the length of his fingers as he curls them up before pulling his hand back.

Everyone is quiet while it spins, and it isn’t until a few people cheer and someone, who sounds suspiciously like Baz, catcalls that my eyes leave Niall and return to the bottle to see who it landed on.

My heart nearly stops when I see who it is. I struggle to breathe, and I’m frozen in place, just staring at it. It takes Baz nudging me in the side, harder than necessary, before I begin to move.

I don’t even decide to crawl over to him. It’s like my body’s gone on autopilot as my brain struggles to process all of this.

This is everything that I have ever dreamed of, but I never thought that it would happen quite like this.

Niall doesn’t seem to be quite as drunk as some of the other people, but it makes me wary of this. I want our first kiss to be something that we both remember the next day. I don’t want to give him the wrong signal by pushing him away, though, and when his hand comes up to rest on the back of my neck and drags me in closer, I give into it.

I let him pull me towards him until our lips meet. Every one of my nerves is on fire when his lips press against mine, and I suddenly feel aware of everything that is happening.

The kiss is soft and hesitant at first, but when neither of us pulls away, it grows into something more passionate. His fingers tangle into the hair at the nape of my neck, and when he tilts his head and starts to kiss me more fiercely, I make an embarrassing noise in my throat.

I bring my hands up to cup his face, and everything around us falls away. I don’t hear anything that anyone might be saying. I’m sure that Baz is probably smirking at us while taking another drink, but I don’t care to know what he’s thinking right now.

It’s only me and Niall as we kiss, our lips fitting together perfectly. I know that we should have pulled away by now, but I can’t be the one to do it. I’ve been in love with Niall for so long that I can’t let go. I’ll never let go. He has to be the one to pull away.

After another minute, he does - or maybe someone pulls us apart; I’m too dazed to be sure - and the noise of everyone around us comes rushing back to me. People are cheering and whistling, but my focus is solely on the way that Niall is looking at me, a smile growing on his face.

“Want to get out of here?” He whispers, a secret just for me.

I should really think this through. This probably doesn’t mean anything. I’m likely just the best kisser out of the three people he’s kissed tonight, and he just wants to have some fun.

I should tell him no. I care too much about this. But that’s also why I think I’m going to go with him. This is my one chance to get what I want, even if it’s just for this one night.

“Yes,” I say, flashing him my most charming smile.

We stand, and when his hand reaches for mine, my knees go weak, and I stumble after him to a secluded corner of the room. He pulls me down to the floor next to him, and I practically fall into his arms.

I take a slow, shaky breath, still wondering whether this is a good idea. The corner of his mouth quirks up, and it’s the same smile he’s thrown at me a million times. It feels different this time, softer and more personal. It makes me melt into his arms, and when he finally kisses me again, I easily open up to him.

We kiss for so long that I lose track of time, unsure how much time has passed, but I'm pretty sure that it’s been a while. I’ve pulled away to catch my breath, leaning back to get a better look at Niall, wondering what the hell I’m doing, when I realize that the rest of the room has gotten quiet.

I glance around and find that most people have left. Only a handful of party guests remain, but they seem to be on their way out. I turn back to Niall and clear my throat awkwardly.

“We should probably get going.”

He nods and begins to stand. “You’re right.”

“I’ve got to go get Baz,” I tell him, standing up next to him, “then I’ll take you home.”

“Sure.”

He presses his lips together tightly and follows me silently across the room. As we walk towards where Baz is, I watch as Simon writes something on his arm before scurrying away, following his friend, Penny, out the door.

Baz has moved to lean against the wall, and he somehow manages to make his stance look cool, but I’m pretty sure he’s using the wall for support. When he pushes off it and stumbles a step toward me, I know that I’m right.

I wrap an arm around his waist to hold him up so that we can walk to my car. I start to ask him what that was all about, but he’s got this stupid grin on his face that I’m certain I’ve never seen before, and it makes me hesitate.

“He kissed me,” Baz sighs. I shake my head and pull him towards the door. “I told you that I was going to kiss him, and I was right.”

“Just wait until morning when you’re sober enough to truly think about that,” I murmur.

“I had to kiss three other people before I kissed him, but it was worth it. Even if one of them was a girl.”

He grimaces at that, but it quickly turns back into a sloppy grin. It freaks me out a bit to see Baz like this.

A grin is rare with Baz, almost nonexistent, and anyone who isn’t friends with him probably believes that all he ever does is scowl and sneer. There’s more to him, though. You just have to get through to him, which sometimes seems like more trouble than it’s worth it.

I believe that it’s worth it, though. We’ve been good friends for years, and I know that most of what he does is simply an act to push people away. I just worry that he’ll push the wrong people away. But Simon gave him his number, so it’s possible that he hasn’t screwed that up.

Maybe Baz actually has a chance with Simon after all.

***

Niall is curled up on my bedroom floor, and I’m just standing here watching him sleep. I look like a weirdo. And a creep. Watching the guy who you’re in love with sleep is super creepy, but I can’t help myself. He looks adorable with my pillow under his head, and a fuzzy blanket wrapped tightly around him. His hair has fallen into his face, and I want to go over there and smooth it back.

Yep. I should definitely get out of here before he finds me staring at him.

I wander around my house for a little while, but it’s empty and boring with my parents already at work, so I find myself standing in the doorway of the guestroom where Baz is sleeping, which is only slightly less creepy than watching Niall. I could always claim that I’m checking to make sure he hasn’t gotten sick all over the place.

Baz looks peaceful when he’s asleep, but it’s only an illusion. I know from experience that waking him up could lead to him doing serious bodily harm. Luckily, after a couple of minutes, he stirs on his own accord.

He looks like crap. (Which I don’t say to him.) I tell him to shower and get dressed so that we can go out for breakfast before going to wake Niall. (Who is less violent in the mornings at least.)

Niall is awake when I return from the guest room, and he’s perched on the corner of my bed, lacing up one of his shoes.

“Morning,” I tell him, leaning against the doorway. “Want to go get breakfast?” 

He shrugs and starts in on tying the other shoe.

“Are you alright?”

“Fine,” he says curtly, tightening his laces with more force than necessary.

He clearly isn’t fine, but I’m not sure if I should push it. He’s probably just hungover.

Moving into the room, I offer him some clothes and a shower, but he replies just as gruffly as before. I try again to ask him what’s wrong, but he answers in short, nondescript sentences, so I give up and settle into the chair at my desk, leaving my bed for him. We sit in silence for the rest of the time while we wait on Baz.

It isn’t long before we’re on our way, and Baz is right when he says breakfast is not going to be pleasant.

For once, I’m thankful that I’m the one driving because it gives me something to focus on that it isn’t my two brooding passengers.

When we get to the diner, I lead us over to a booth in the back corner. Baz keeps his sunglasses on as he slides into one side of the booth, and Niall slides into the other. After a brief moment of hesitation, I take the seat next to Baz. He may be angry, but at least I’m certain that it isn’t because of me.

An attractive guy with dark floppy waves and thin-wired glasses perched on his nose comes to take our order, and I smile up at him apologetically, knowing that our table isn’t going to be too nice.

After a couple of nudges to Baz’s side, I finally get him to ask for a large plate of bacon with a side of eggs. The waiter frowns but writes it down anyway before turning to Niall, who orders a large stack of pancakes with a side of bacon.

The waiter turns to me last, flashing me a warm smile full of dazzling white teeth, and usually, I would return it with a flirtatious smile of my own, but after last night, I can’t. I’m still holding out hope for Niall, no matter how foolish that may be.

Instead, I give him a small, tight-lipped smile and tell him to bring as much coffee as he can give me, along with coffee and water for others.

“Nothing to eat?” He asks with a cute tilt of his head.

“I’m alright,” I tell him.

I didn’t even drink last night, but I don’t think I can stomach anything right now. Niall can’t even look at me, and I can’t be mad at him. I made the decision to kiss him, knowing full well that this exact thing might happen. I just wish that he would talk to me so that we could try to find a way to work through this.

Our food and drinks arrive quickly, and I smile gratefully at our waiter when he sets down a giant cup of coffee in front of me. It’s not one of the cups they usually give to customers, and it makes me smile for a moment to think that he would go out of his way to do this for me.

Baz and Niall eat in silence while I sip on my coffee, and I’m beginning to wonder why I even suggested coming here. I thought it would be fun, that we’d joke and laugh about the party last night, but looking back, there isn’t anything funny about what happened last night.

We all took some risks, and it appears like at least one of us regrets it. I want to regret it. I want to be angry at myself for what I did, but I’m not. I liked kissing Niall, and even if I have to pretend like it didn’t mean anything to me, I will never want to take it back.

I can’t tell if Baz regrets kissing Simon or not, and frankly, I’m a little afraid to ask. Bringing up Simon to Baz has always been a little risky, but I’m pretty sure it would be even worse right now, so I choose to keep my mouth shut and continue sipping on my coffee.

I was actually beginning to think that this breakfast couldn’t get any worse when as shadow falls over our table and I turn to see Simon Snow standing at the end of it.

I groan inwardly. I should have just stayed in bed this morning, or better yet, not gone to that party. This is just a little too much for me to handle this morning.

“Um,” he says awkwardly. “I’m sorry to bother you, but there isn’t anywhere else to sit, and I’m starving. Is it alright if I join you guys?”

We all - including Niall, forkful of syrupy pancake halfway to his mouth - look to Baz for the answer, but he scowls quietly and turns away from us to look out the window, ripping a slice of bacon viciously in half. I turn back just in time to see a look of hurt and disappointment flash across Simon’s face before he manages to school his features. I guess Baz hasn’t called that number yet.

I look to Niall, but he looks away, too, so I suppose it’s up to me.

“Go ahead,” I tell him, nodding at the only open spot, next to Niall and across from me.

It’s probably a mistake, but if Niall and Baz are going to act like this, why not go ahead and add Simon to the mix? At least we can all be miserable together, all of our pain caused by things we did at the party last night.

I almost laugh thinking about it. We all kissed someone else sitting here at that party, and now none of us are talking. We’re all a bunch of fucking clowns, me and Baz the most for thinking we could ever have what we wanted. But I guess I’m the worst because I am the only one of us who was completely sober last night, and I still made a horrible mistake.

I knew that kissing Niall might change things between us. I just never thought that it would end with him unable to even look at me. I never thought there was a chance I would completely lose my best friend.

[thecruciblegavemeyou]

swim au

late, again. my apologies. I think they’re will be about 15 chapters, so its nearing the end my friends

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

ao3

Simon

I held my breath. The room was too quiet and if I made a sound, I’d ruin everything.

I’d ruin the snow on the window sill, the hum of people down the hall, the sound of laughter from the courtyards, the boy in my arms.

Baz’s head was nestled under my neck. I couldn’t actually feel my arm anymore and I think my fingers were throbbing, but that didn’t really seem important right now. What was important was that I didn’t screw this up. Every second that beautiful boy stayed in my arms was another second I could pretend he’d really let me have this; him, us.

Everything about him was perfect. He always had been. It used to drive me crazy. Up the walls. He was gorgeous and smart and athletic (which I appreciated, really, really appreciated; with my hands on his abs).

It amazed me how much one kiss could change everything. It amazed me how much I wanted to kiss him again.

I felt my heart skip a beat as his fingers curled into my shirt and he sucked in a tiny breath. When baz was sleeping was the only time he was unguarded. I rarely get to see him like this. Sometimes in the morning, but he’s normally facing the wall, so it’s not possible to see his face. And he’s always asleep after me. Always.

With a small yawn, Baz opened his eyes. I could see the flash of panic cross them before he was able to gain control of his emotions. He was an emotional lockbox.

I kissed his forehead and he visibly relaxed. “Good morning, darling,” I whispered, my heart in my throat. Was ‘darling’ too much? Would I scare him off?

He pressed his lips under my jawline. Gently, nervously. “Mornin’,” his breath was hot on my skin, but his lips were so, so cold.

“We have breakfast in ten minutes,” Baz mumbled, glaring at his watch.

I jumped.

“Fuck, Snow, you just kneed me in the stomach!” Baz groaned, but I was already half-dressed.

“ Baz, get up! We have to go.”

“You go ahead, Snow. It’s not like I could walk in with you.” he yawned again, face-down on my pillow.

I stopped, my shirt half-buttoned. Baz was right. The school blows up if I so much as look at Agatha, today would already be hell after last night. I still hadn't even got the chance to tell Baz what happened with Agatha. I can’t walk into the dining hall with Baz. I can’t be seen with Baz at all. Not even Penny can know.

Not even Penny.

Apparently Baz had been watching the emotions flicker across my face. He'd always read me like a book (according to Penny, I just had really obvious facial expressions) “What’s the matter, Snow? Having second thoughts? Wanna run off and tell the whole school how gay I am?”

I frowned. He was just being mean because he was nervous. I knew that. I took a deep breath. Baz wanted this. Baz wanted this as much as I did. “I’ll see you at the meet later,” I said, pressing a kiss to his mouth.

“Okay.” I loved watching Baz blush.

“Simon? What happened? Are you okay? You’re ten minutes late.” Penny was back at our table, with an entire box of tissues in hand. She hates missing classes. I hate missing breakfasts.

“Baz… turned off my alarm.” I mumbled, grabbing a scone from the plate on the table. It was cold, but I didn’t really mind.

“What were you guys fighting about now?” She rolled her eyes, and swallowed a few pills. Probably those vitamin ones her mom swears fix anything. Penny's mom was a bit.. eccentric. I'd only met her a few times, but she was fun, if a bit odd. She was just like Penny.

“Swim.” I shrugged, cursing the blush rising up the back of my neck.

Her eyes lit up, “Oh! Don’t you have a meet tonight?” I nodded slowly, buttering my scone. Watford had the best damn scones in the whole world.

“Agatha and I are going to come watch. You are competing, aren’t you?” She sniffled, her voice dropped an octave.

I stifled a laugh, before I realized what she said.  “Agatha?”

“Your girlfriend?” Penny raised an eyebrow.

“Oh my god, Simon. What did you do?” Penny shrieked, throwing a dirty tissue at me.

“We broke up again, I… for good this time, Penny. I’m really done.” I mumble, taking a sip of tea. I’ve moved on.

Penny sighed, “no wonder she’s sitting at Baz’s table again.”

I turned my head around so quickly I almost got whiplash. There she was, sitting up alongside Baz, laughing and talking. Dev was watching her intently, and I watched him kick Baz under the table.

This time it wasn’t Agatha making me jealous.

The day was agonizingly long. All I wanted to do was be near Baz. In our room, in the pool, in the locker rooms. I'd take a broom closet at this point. I could feel Baz’s gaze on me the whole day, too. At lunch, he pulled me into Miss Possibelf’s room and kissed me, then abruptly left me in a haze five minutes later. My lips were swollen and red. I paced around her classroom, fixing my hair and making myself presentable again.

Penny still gave me an odd look when I showed up to lunch ten minutes late. She always knew, damn her. But she didn't say a word. I wonder if she knew exactly what.

Agatha was back at Baz's table and I swallowed my anger. I hadn't had a chance to speak to her since last night. I kinda wanted to apologize for yelling, even if I was still livid with her.

The meet started at four. Warm-ups at 3:30. The other school would be arriving in ten minutes, and the bleachers had begun to fill up with teachers and students, notably Penny and Agatha, both glaring at me from the front row. Agatha must’ve filled Penny in on our fight. I still don't see how I was the one in the wrong. Either way, Penny should be happy. She never thought Agatha and I were fit for each other.

I cornered Baz on deck. “You made me ten minutes late to lunch. Do you want Penny to find out?” I whispered, poking a finger into his chest.

“You enjoyed it.”

“That’s besides the point.” I blushed.

He laughed, “time to warm-up, Snow.”

The warm-up went by too quickly and before I knew it the beep went off for the first race to start. I watched as Baz dove into the water, anchoring the “A” relay. He once explained to me that the anchor; the fourth person of the relay, is the fastest. They’re supposed to bring it home.

The beautiful bastard passed the boys on the lanes on either side and finished in second, losing a touch-out to lane four. A promising start to the meet. Baz had tried to explain all the scoring to me a few weeks ago, but it was all too confusing (don't even get me started on dive-score conversions). I couldn’t really keep track of what was happening, it was a mess. All the boys were whooping and hollering, the pool was chaos, and the scoreboard ticked away; with us neck-in-neck with the other team.

“Snow!” Coach shouted, waving me over. My stomach flipped as I jogged to his place by the timing table. This couldn’t be good. Was he going to pull me from my exhibition? I really hope not. I need a proper time (practice times can't qualify for sectionals). And exhibition races don’t even count for score (just time), so it shouldn’t be a problem…

“Niall is sick, he caught that damn bug going around. You’re swimming third seat for the fly.”

I choked, “Wha-what?”

“The 100 fly event is the first event after the dive break. Stretch, and get ready to start off the second half. Lane five.”  

I gulped as he sent me off with a wink and a pat on the back. I immediately lost feeling in my fingers.

I began to pace up and down the deck, the sounds of the pool and the boys and the crowd fading behind the blood pounding in my head. My haze broke with a voice in my ear, “what was that about?”

Baz. Baz was standing behind me, dripping wet and breathing heavily. He soaked me as he ran his hands through his hair, cap in his opposite hand. He just finished another race. Coach had him in as many freestyle events as possible.

“Coach, he, I-” the scoreboard lit up red.

He smirked at me, “spit it out, Snow.”

“Niall’s sick. I’m in for the fly.” I could barely breathe.

He nodded, smiling, “you’re ready.”

I prayed Penny and Agatha couldn’t see the blush on my face.

Watching the divers was an entirely different experience, and second-handedly terrifying. From the angle I was at, it looked like they were going to smash their faces onto the board every time (they didn’t).

Before I knew it, the dive break was over. Apparently, our divers suck. Baz grumbled nearby, saying that we were going to be tied with them again. We had pulled ahead in the last two events before the break.

We’d done practice races in practice, but all the sudden it felt entirely different. The team was depending on me.

“ Take your mark,” Okay, breathe. 3, 2- “BEEP!”

I launched off the block, sliding into the water. The whole race was a blur of water in my lungs, people cheering, Baz’s face on the side of the pool, and burning. Oh god, my muscles were burning. And my legs. I didn’t know if I was going to make it to the end. I could see a boy in the lane next to me a few yards ahead of me. I had a 25 left.

Before I knew it, my fingers smashed into the wall, and I gasped for breath. I could hear ringing, and Baz’s voice. Baz’s voice, above all the rest.

“You fucking did it, you bloody idiot!” He screamed. The whole team was cheering. I glanced at the board. I’d placed fourth, of eight boys. My jaw dropped. Second, for our team. I raced a 1:03.97. I could barely get out of the pool. My legs were jelly, and my heart was beating faster than I thought possible. Somebody wrapped an arm around me, and I could hear Coach behind me.

“You did it, Simon.” Baz mumbled in my ear, squeezing my arm. I wanted to jump on him, kiss him. It was his doing; he spent so much time with me on the fly. He pushed me harder than Coach, harder than the days I practiced fly with Niall.