#I need to study French again I forgot much like why didn’t I know the word for watermelon it’s a top 5 summer fruit!!!!

[rfsak2]

So most of this has been written for a while. I planned on adding more to what would’ve been the third chapter, thereby making most of this a fourth chapter, but work has been ridiculous and I’m exhausted.

If you read this: thanks and sorry for the inconsistency.

Also I don’t speak Kouri Vini and this has been gleaned from language projects/dictionaries so I apologize if it’s truly awful.

Easy Target, pt. 3

They thought wrong. Severus/OC

Warnings: abusive language, abusive behavior, violence, mentions of past abuse/assault, bad language words.

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE.

“Mô joli sær!”

Charlotte smiled broadly and hastened down the staircase toward the tall, strawberry blond man at the foot of the stairs, who bore the same wide smile as Charlotte, and slightly shorter but broader, black man standing next to him, wearing a smile that was no less broad.

“Mô bo fær! Mô bo bo-fær!”

Severus watched as she cleared the stairs in a near run and all but jumped into the two men’s arms. The men laughed and, as one, rocked her in a tight, affectionate hug.

They separated and chatted in the not-quite-French language he had heard Charlotte use a few times under her breath.

She looked up and caught Severus’ eyes. She paused as if waiting for him to turn away, indicate in some way that he was unwilling to meet these men.

He sighed and did no such thing. He chastised himself for not being able to even pretend to be uninterested.

She smiled brightly at him, blue eyes lined in kohl, making the color even more striking. The olive green dress she wore hugged distracting curves in an equally distracting way.

“Hello, Professor Snape!” She chirped and positioned herself amicably between Severus and the men. “This is my brother Augustus and his husband Ogun Dillioles. Brothers-mine this is our deputy headmaster and potions master, Severus Snape.”

Augustus de Vilierè smiled widely and reached out unhesitatingly with his hand. “Good t’meet you. I’ve read your work on the potion you crafted for Vold-“

Charlotte coughed lightly.

He cut him off and scratched at the back of his head, retracting his hand. “Sorry about that. I forgot that y’all still don’t like using his name.”

“It’s quite alright.” Severus dismissed his apology, offering his hand and shaking Augustus’ proffered counterpart firmly. “I was part of the group that defeated Voldemort. I try not to fear his name.”

Ogun smiled and offered his hand as well. “There y’go! I heard you managed to subvert a fortifying potion into a poison with no major differences.”

Severus smirked, shaking his hand as well. “Or minor ones.”

Augustus laughed in a crack, startlingly similar to the woman standing between them, who seemed to be studying him under her lashes. “For sure! That’s damn fascinating. Ogun said that it looked like you borrowed from other traditions to achieve it.”

“I’m fairly positive but,” Ogun nodded, “I thought I saw some African and Middle Eastern ingredients and preparations.”

Severus paused, caught off guard by their knowledge.

I know a couple of nice potions masters.

He slanted a look at Charlotte, who had a sly grin on her face. Obfuscating little minx. “Ah. Yes, the fortifying potion the Dark Lord asked me to make was of Arabic origin, to begin with.” He paused. “I tried to only tweak or replace what I could reasonably assume the Dark Lord wouldn’t have had much exposure too. The Dark Lord needed to believe that I was giving him what he ordered me to give him.”

They chatted amicably for another ten minutes or so, the other men's knowledge of Potions was refreshing and the conversation was shockingly easy.

When they left, Charlotte politely reminding them of their dinner plans, Severus watched them go. Charlotte turned over her shoulder and caught his eyes.

Then she winked.

**

“Yet again you have opted to not tell me the whole truth.”

Charlotte smiled and glanced up at him from her seat next to him.

Why he had decided to sit next to her rather than across from her, she didn’t know, but he had already spent the last few minutes glowering at Remus who had tried to call him on it.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She batted her eyes at him.

He snorted and leaned closer to her, voice dropping in volume and pitch. She fought not to shiver at his proximity or the sound of his voice.

“I know a couple of nice potions masters,” He mimicked her.

She hid a smile behind her hand. “Well, I do.”

His lips twisted wryly and she almost thought she would be graced with a rare smile.

“How many members of your family are potions masters?”

“Most of them.” She smiled against the rim of her coffee cup. “I’d have to count.”

“Oh, would you?” He huffed. “And why didn’t you say so?”

“Because you didn’t ask.”

“I have to ask specifically?” He cast a sideways glance at her.

“If it’s information you want.” She smiled. “I’m not a mind reader.”

“Semantics.” He turned in his seat to face her more fully.

“Or an accurate estimation of the worth of that information?” She shrugged. “Why would I assume you wanted a full accounting of my family’s professional history?”

“Because I have already asked you about the Potions Masters in your family.” He rubbed at his top lip with the tip of a long finger. “One would assume.”

She chuckled. “You know what they say about assuming…”

He slanted a baleful look at her. “Obfuscation.”

“Discretion.” She settled back in her seat and smiled.

“Omission.”

“I didn’t realize our conversations were investigative.” She sipped at her coffee. “Is there a reason why you are investigating my family’s history?”

He seemed to consider that, dark eyes heavy on her. “How interesting.”

She frowned, mind whirring to decipher his angle. “Hmm?”

He mimicked her casual shrug. “You pretend to be open and honest, but really you’re just as cagey as the rest of us.”

She scoffed. “I don't pretend to be anything. It’s just conceited to think that anyone gives a rat’s ass about my family history.”

“You told me the whole of New Orleans already knows everything about you.”

She huffed. “The history of my family is the history of New Orleans. I’d imagine it would take very little research on your part to get all the information you’d want.”

He made a pantomime of considering the point. “I suppose I want it from the horse’s mouth as it were…”

“But why? Why do you want that information? I don’t know that it would provide you any benefit?” She side-eyed him. “Don’t know why you care so much.”

That seemed to put him on the back foot. “I don’t. Why would you ass-“

She demurred, shrugging as she caught his eye. “I wouldn’t assume you did, but which is why I’m so puzzled.”

Severus grunted and turned back to his food, effectively ending the conversation.

Charlotte giggled.

**

“What’s the topic today?” Lupin settled in his chair and shot a look at Madame Hooch.

“Some French book about-“

“I’m saying that Dubois’ theory is primarily flawed.”

Charlotte made a noise in the back of her throat. “You would think so.”

Snape didn’t look at her directly, instead sending her a scathing look from the corner of his eye as he cut through his grilled tomato. “I do think so.”

“You’re full of shit and you know it.”

“Language, Professa.”

“Bloody bite me.”

“Tempting.”

Hooch smiled salaciously. “-transfiguration, I think.”

Lupin chuckled. “Who started it?”

“Snape brought it up. Out of the blue, too.” Hooch grinned. “He seems to enjoy riling her up for some reason.”

“Interesting.”

“Care to make a bet?” Hooch grinned toothily.

“On?”

Hooch sat back in her chair and watched the arguing pair. “This is all an elaborate mating ritual-”

“Everyone - except Snape and de Vilieré, it seems - knows that. They sit right next to each other and talk through every meal. All while maintaining the pretense that they despise each other. I’d give them a month tops before-”

“Ooh!” Charlotte set down her coffee cup with more force than was necessary. Students turned to gaze at the head table en masse. Glaring at him, she quieted, whispering. “You are so pigheaded.”

“I’m pigheaded? Me?” Snape sneered. “You just argued that potions-making-”

“Make that two weeks, before one of them has to sneak out of the other’s quarters every other morning.”

Hooch nodded. “I’ll take that bet. If it’s shorter or longer than two weeks, I win.”

Lupin shook his head, grinning. “No, that’s not the way this is going to work. I take…”

“Ooh! I swear you just brought this up to frustrate me!”

“‘Potions-making is just throwing some shit into a cauldron-” Snape’s ‘southern’ accent was getting better and better every time he mocked de Vilieré.

“Transfiguration is ‘foolish wand-waving that serves little to no purpose’.” Charlotte had likewise perfected Severus’ sneer.

Lupin grinned. “I take under two weeks.”

Hooch whistled, grimacing, but nodded. “Alright, I’ll take that bet.”

**

“Arithmancy absolutely has something to do with Potions.” Charlotte shot him a look, strolling next to him as the students rushed down the lane towards Hogsmeade.

“You can’t be serious.” Severus sighed.

“Why would it not?” She scoffed. “Why bother teaching it all? I understand it’s elective, but why teach it at all, if it has nothing to do with other “subjects?”

“Because we are required to do so.” He drawled.

“Really?” She scoffed. “Or maybe it’s important to at least have a rudimentary understanding of Arithmancy.”

“For what possible reason?”

She huffed. “Because Arithmancy informs the theory behind all magical practice. Why the proportion of one ingredient to another produces a magical reaction-“

“Chemical reaction. That is not Arithmancy, that is a chemical reaction.” He smirked at her small sound of frustration.

She cussed under her breath. “Now you’re just being obstinate.”

He suppressed a chuckle and stared down at the top of her head. Even in her ridiculous heeled shoes, she was barely chin-height to him. He took an absurd amount of pleasure in the fact. “Obstinate? You’re calling me obstinate.”

“Yes!” She nodded aggressively, turning flashing blue eyes up at him. “Obstinate. Arguing for the sake of it. Talking out your ass just ‘cause. You know damn well that the magic in potions isn’t-“

He smiled down at her, mimicking the sugar-snake smile she used when being especially sarcastic. Her jaw flexed and she discreetly made an obscene gesture at him.

He fought the urge to laugh and reveled in the thrill that raced down his spine when he succeeded in ruffling her. He met her eyes, anticipating her next reaction. “What I know is that you opted for soft science-”

“Soft science? I’ll be damned if-!” She stopped suddenly, keeping a weather eye on the group of likely gossiping seventh year Slytherin girls staring at them from across the lane. She gritted her teeth but forced a pleasant smile on her face. “Y’all move along now. You’re in Hogsmeade to have fun with each other, not stand here staring at your chaperones.”

“Yes, professor.” One-Norris-hid a grin behind her hand.

“I swear to God you do like to make a spectacle.” She hissed at him.

He snorted. “Me? Fat chance.”

“Yes, you.” She rolled her eyes and gestured the girls along again. “All big, boomin’ voice and loomin’ over people-“

“I’m 6-foot-4. There’s not much to be done about that.”

“-makin’ children pickle brains for detention, eloquent turns of phrase that would make poets wilt. Drama.”

Harris smiled. “Where did you get your dress, Professor? It’s very pretty.”

Charlotte turned back to the girl, half forgetting the girls were still standing there. “The US.” She deadpanned. “Now, git.”

The girls walked off, giggling as they cast interested looks back at them.

“Get.” He drawled. “A git is a different thing.”

“Thank you for the information, Severus. I’ll add it to my lexicon of British terminology.” She fluffed her skirt and Severus caught himself tracing the demure amount of cleavage left visible by the unbuttoned neckline of her shirt dress.

She glanced up at him and he looked away. “I just thought you’d like to avoid being giggled at.”

“Oh…” She made a small moue at him, like he was a child, and meandered away. “Bless your heart.”

He huffed, feeling the tone of the conversation take a turn, and stepped forward, catching up with her easily. “What does that mean?”

“It means…” She trailed off, letting a group of students pass. “It means that you’re adorable.”

He sneered. “Adorable?”

She smiled. “Positively so.” She paused to touch a flower petal. “They are not giggling because I said the word git. They are seventeen-year-old girls. They consider themselves worldly and mature and far too intelligent to laugh at a funny word.”

Severus huffed and rolled his eyes. “Then, what, pray tell, are they giggling about?”

“Us.” She adjusted her watch. “They are giggling because their rather reclusive deputy headmaster, who, I’ve been told, never agrees to chaperone, has agreed to chaperone seemingly of his own free will.”

“Damn it all to hell.”

She giggled behind her hand. “‘And why now?’ they are likely to be wondering. Why all of a sudden? Now of all times, when the newest faculty member is female and your age.” She winked at him and dropped her voice like she was sharing a secret. “And, didn’t you know, that they spent the whole way to Hogsmeade in rapt conversation? They don’t even pretend to hate each other anymore.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, grumbling under his breath.

She chuckled. “Didn’t think it through, did’ya, sweetheart?”

He glowered down his nose at her. “I’m glad you find mockery so amusing, Ms. de Vilieré.”

She paused, her steps stuttering, and mouthed ‘ouch’. “You know how to let a girl down easy, dontcha?”

He frowned again, this time more confused than irritated. “What do you mean by that?”

She shrugged and meandered further down the lane. “People think we’re flirting, not just now but pretty much any time we are within two feet of each other. It doesn’t bother me, but you seem offended by the insinuation.” She smiled, a wry, sad twist of her lips, and turned to look to the other side of the lane. “I mean I know I’m no catch, but mockery…”

He shook his head, still stupefied. She thought he was rejecting her? What an odd turn.

“That’s not it.” When she didn’t respond, still wandering along a flower lined hedge with sad eyes. He swallowed past the squeeze in his chest and called her softly enough to not attract too much attention. “Charlotte.”

She turned back to him, shocked by his use of her first name. He sighed, catching her eyes and trying to impress what he felt he couldn’t say directly. “I wouldn’t think you’d want to be connected to me in that way.”

“What? Why n-“ Her eyes skated over his shoulder and she blanched.

“What’s the matter?” He cast a look over his shoulder. He didn’t notice much.

“It’s… It’s nothing. Let’s keep goin’.”

Her voice was shaky and he frowned harder as he surveyed the area again, never-quite-dormant anxiety rearing its ugly head. “If a student-“

“It’s not a student. It’s nothing.” He could hear her shifting nervously. “Severus, please.”

He felt a soft touch on his forearm and turned back to her. “Are you quite alright?”

She nodded, eyes still fixed behind him. “I’m fine, ‘course.” She met his eyes and smiled, wobbly and not at all her normal cheeky grin. “I saw some fourth-years go into Zonko���s. Come on.”

She turned away, eyes still darting across the lane.

Severus frowned and followed, eyes following her line of sight and saw a man he had never seen in Hogsmeade.

It was clearly not nothing, so when he caught sight of her leaving for Hogsmeade later that day, he followed.

**

Triggering Stuff from this point on! Tw: violence, abuse

“Hello, Lottie.”

She sat stiffly in front of Beau. “Beau.”

“See you already found some asshole to fuck.” Beau smiled nastily, his fist clenched around his wand on the table. “Tell him you’re married?”

“I’m not married.” Her hand itched to grab her own wand but she didn’t, she couldn’t risk him taking her wand off of her. “And even if I was, I was never the unfaithful one and we both know that.”

He snickered and she felt his heavy-booted foot cover hers and press down. She bit her lip, thanking her lucky stars that she’d changed into a pair of sneakers.

“You know you ain’t ever getting rid of me, baby.” More pressure. “Let you have your time…” More pressure. She breathed deep. “Now it’s time to come on home.”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

He lifted his boot and brought the shape edge of the heel down on her toes.

She gasped and murmured a pain-killing charm under her breath.

“Come. On. Home.”

“No.”

Beau looked around and grinned when he decided no one was watching. He grinned as he spoke the disillusionment charm. “Alright, you stupid slut. You want to do this the hard way?”

“I don’t want to do this at all.”

He reached over and slapped her.

She gasped and he reached over and snatched her wand out of her jacket pocket. He smiled. “How long do you think it’ll take you to pack your shit without your wand?”

She resisted the urge to rub her jaw, sitting up straight, head held high on her neck. “An awful long time as I have no intention of doing it.”

As he raised his hand, she whispered, “Finite Incantatum.”

He back-handed her and every head swiveled in her direction. She felt blood well in her mouth and fought to breathe through her nose.

“You stupid bitch.” She felt a hand in her hair and Beau yanked her head up. “You think this fuckin’ matters? Like anyone here’s gonna help you-“

“I will kill you where you stand if you do not release Professor de Vilieré right now.”

She gasped and looked up at Severus. He met her eyes briefly as if checking on her and focused back on Beau.

“You really are fuckin’ him, aren’t you, ya’slut.” Beau chuckled. “Knight in shining armor, and all that.” Beau snorted. “Always did have weird taste…”

Snape ignored him. “Release Professor de Vilieré.”

Beau growled but didn’t move to obey, Severus’ wand pressed tight to his neck. “Professor Beauregard.”

“I said release her.” Severus stepped in closer. “I will not tell you again.”

“Fuck you.”

“Digitos wibbly.” Charlotte choked out and tore her hair away from Beau’s suddenly jelly-like fingers.

Snape wrapped a hand around her upper arm and gently pressed her back in Madame Rosmerta’s waiting arms. Beau made a move to stalk after her and Snape stepped between them.

“End this damn curse or I’ll kill you the minute this asshole leaves.” He gestured wildly with his useless hands. “Stupid Bitch.”

“How do you propose to do that?” Snape smirked. “Professor de Vilieré will be back at Hogwarts long before that curse wears off.” He turned over his shoulder at her. “Your facility with wandless magic, as ever, is impressive, de Vilieré.”

Charlotte snorted. “Thanks, Snape.”

Beau cursed under his breath. “Her last name is Beauregard.”

“Her last name is de Vilieré. You are divorced, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Not for long… Not if she’s as smart as everyone says she is.” Beau leered at her. “She ruined my fuckin life and career. She’s gonna fix it.”

“Fuck you, Beau.” Snape glanced back, watching Charlotte straighten her spine. She held out her hand and her wand shot out of Beau’s pocket and into her hand. “You ruined your career. It was in its death throes well before the divorce. A cocaine habit will do that to’ya.”

Beau growled, useless hands trying and failed to grasp the wand before it made it into her hand.

Severus was hit with the realization that, at least partially, she was so proficient with wandless and wordless magic because of the man standing in front of him.

He took her wand. Stopped her from doing magic. His hand tightened around his own wand.

“I’m never going to marry you again. Never.”

Beau stepped forward. “You’ll fuckin’ marry me if you know what’s good for you, bitch. You’ll fix all the shit you fucked up and we’ll be one big happy family again.”

Charlotte snorted. “Or what?”

“I won’t stop next time, if you catch my meaning.”

Charlotte blanched but stood firm.

Severus took a step toward. “Threaten her again and-“

Beau turned to him, a nasty snarl on a pretty face. “And what, asshole? You ain’t gonna kill me.”

“Aren’t, you neanderthal. And why wouldn’t I?” Snape advanced again and Beau, hands still incapable of holding his wand, backed away.

“You ain’t gonna to risk prison to kill me.”

Severus smiled nastily. “I wouldn’t be risking anything. Every person in this pub would testify to seeing you try to drag her from the room by her hair after she ended the disillusionment charm.”

“She won’t press charges. She knows she won’t get far without witnesses.” Beau chuckled nastily. “I can guaran-fuckin’-tee that.”

“I think you’ll find that I’m more than witness enough and magical law enforcement isn’t likely to take your word over mine.”

“Oh, really?” Beau cackled. “Who the fuck do you think you are, dude? Some jumped-up school-“

Severus arched an eyebrow. “You have no clue who I am.”

Beau shrugged. “The asshole fuckin’ my wife?”

Severus gathered himself to his full height, towering easily over the shorter man. “I’m Severus Snape. I’m a war hero, you complete fool. Do you really think they wouldn’t give me another medal for defending the defenseless?” Severus got a step closer. “I have looked into the eyes of the Dark Lord and stole his secrets. He may have been a failure and a madman, but he defecated scarier beings than a weak-willed, spineless, little man with less than two brain cells to his credit.”

“Fuck you, man.” Beau clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, rolling his eyes. “She’s pretty and shit, but no pussy is worth all this fuss. I’ll give you money, just get lost.”

Severus looked close to hexing Beau on principle alone, exasperated. “I don’t want your money, you fool, just like de Vilieré doesn’t want you.”

“This had nothing to do with what she wants,” Beau grinned. “It’s about her doing what she needs to do, what she has to do.”

Charlotte tossed her head. “I need to do nothin’, jackass. There is nothin’ you could say-“

“You’ll do or I'll sue for custody and this time I’ll make damn sure I’ll win.”

Charlotte set her jaw. “Over my dead-“

“Don’t tempt me, bitch.”

Severus pressed his wand tighter against his neck. “What did I say about threatening her?”

“Magical Law Enforcement!” Two wizards apparated directly into Madame Rosmerta’s and Severus grinned, stepping back, remaining in front of

Charlotte, physically blocking any last-ditch attack, hands raised.

“Professor, what happened?”

Severus shot a smug look at Beau and turned to consider the patroller. “Hello, Patrolman Jameson. This man-”

“Alton Beauregard.”

Snape nodded at Charlotte. “Alton Beauregard is a guest in our country, who came exclusively to harass and assault his ex-wife, Professor Charlotte de Vilieré, of Hogwarts, and apparently to coerce her into marrying him again. When it became clear that her life was in danger, the Professor broke the disillusionment charm Mr. Beauregard had cast, rather poorly I should mention. I then witnessed him hit her across the face and attempt to drag her from the room by her hair.”

“Is this true, Madame?”

“Before you say anything, think of the consequences.” Beau smiled nastily. “I can make it difficult for you-“

Charlotte made a noise of frustration. “Oh, just shut the fuck up already! We’re not in NOLA anymore, you dumbass. Nobody gives a shit about you or your family here.” Charlotte straightened her spine and turned back to the officers. “Yes, it is. He has a history of physical abuse. I have documentation if you need it.”

It took over an hour. Witness statements were signed, charges pressed, injuries noted and healed.

When it was done, Charlotte collapsed into a chair. Rosmerta patted her on the shoulder and pressed a mug of tea into her hands. “Here, dearie. Catch your breath.”

Charlotte nodded vaguely and whispered a faint, “Thank you.”

Severus sat stiffly in the chair opposite of her.

She stared down into her cup. “Thank you.” She sucked in a breath. “Not gonna lie, wish you hadn’t seen that, but thank you.”

He nodded and they fell silent, her staring into her tea and him staring at her.

“I don’t want…” she swallowed. “I don’t want to be pitied or for people to see me differently.” She glanced up and caught his eyes. “I don’t want you to see me differently.”

He held her eyes and nodded. “I won’t.”

“I don’t want to be treated with kid gloves or as some sort of fragile, broken piece of glass…” she trailed off, blinking rapidly.

“de Vilieré.” She looked up at him. “No one could see what I just saw and think you fragile or broken.”

She considered him quietly and swallowed. “How much did you see?”

“All of it.” He shrugged stiffly. “I knew you’d likely leave the castle after your reaction this morning. And I knew whatever- whoever- it was, terrified you. I wasn’t going to let you…” he trailed off, uncomfortable. “I didn’t know what I’d find but I wasn’t going to let it happen without at least being there when it happened.”

She looked down at her tea cup, running her finger over the brim with a wince. “Why?”

“Because we are colleagues.” He breathed deeply. “Because I have seen the look on your face before on other faces. I may not be the picture of chivalry, but I’m not the kind of man that would send a woman, let alone one of your stature, alone into the type of situation that would engender such fear.”

She nodded. They lapsed into silence again.

“What I don’t understand…” Severus drummed his fingers on the blackened, aged table, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting Beau to come storming through the doors again. “You are an intelligent woman-”

Charlotte snorted into her tea. “Thank you, Severus.”

He slanted a look at her that was verging on baleful, but lacking heat. “You are a reasonably intelligent woman. Why would you willingly go meet him knowing who he is? That was reckless.”

“I knew what he wanted and I know Beau.” She shrugged. “Beau is a dumb fuck, but he isn’t going to risk prison. I reckoned I could get him to leave easily enough.”

“He seemed ready to risk prison.”

“Seemed so, but he’s always been more bluster than balls.” She made a face, shrugging. “He is a coward and always has been. Besides,” she chuckled, “he barely graduated from the Convent. I’m a damn sight better at spellwork and now that no one’s stepping in to fight his battles for him, I figured I could take him if it came to that.”

“Regardless,” Severus shook his head, “It was foolish.”

“Maybe, but it was a risk I was willing to take.” She grinned, it was subdued, quieter than her usual cheeky grin. “I was kinda hoping he would try something so I could hex him into the next decade, but I thank you for your assistance either way.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” He huffed out a laugh. He was quiet a long moment. “Did you ever love him?”

“Beau?” She shook her head. “No, he’s never been my cup of tea.” She inclined the mug in her hand with a small ironic smile. “I have known him most of my life but never… he always scared me.”

“So then an arranged marriage?”

She nodded. “Yep. Duty to family n’all that. Doesn’t matter that he’s a fuckin’ idiot and surely wouldn’t be adding anything of value to the family. We were fortunate that Hadrien takes so strongly after my family. He’s the spittin’ image of my dad and my brother.”

Severus nodded. “I’ve heard that in some cases, one parent’s, typically the mother, intention is so strong as to almost override normal genetic inheritance.”

“We cited some studies to that effect when Beau dragged me to court the first time. He wasn’t willing to accept the results of the magical paternity test or the no-maj format.”

“He doubted paternity?”

She nodded. “He’s a dumbass. Despite the fact that I was very young when I had Hadrien and he resembled my family, not some rando out on the street-“

“And he was abusive and I doubt you would tempt fate in that matter.”

Charlotte made a face and shrugged. “No accounting for taste or intelligence.”

Severus looked off to the side and sighed. “Was he always this abusive? Or did it intensify over time?”

“Like most things, there were cycles. He was never kind, per say, but there were times when he spent more time out than in the house or when his abuse was more verbal or emotional rather than physical. Not that it makes it better, but I had no emotional connection to him and didn’t give a shit about his opinion, so it didn’t really matter.” She stared down into her mug. “I always tried to leave in those quiet moments, but it didn’t really seem to change the result. He would find out, beat the shit outta me. Rinse. Repeat.”

“And he regularly took your wand.”

“Yes… worked that out, did you? He kept it locked in a cabinet and regularly threatened to break it.” She smiled wryly. “I suppose that was actually helpful. I would never be so proficient without-“, she shrugged.

“There was nothing helpful about that man, Charlotte. You are lucky you are resilient and resourceful. You would not have survived otherwise.”

She smiled softly at him. “Thank you, Severus.”

Severus nodded. “Do you worry about your son living with that neanderthal?”

“Of course I worry for my son, but he doesn’t live with his father.” She smiled softly. “I was canny enough, and my father powerful enough, to have the judge declare his father's home unfit. After all, Beau is a busy politician. He’s often not home for days on end. Additionally, when he is in NOLA, he is often out socializing. Surely, a newly single father would not know what to do with the son he barely knows as it is. Hadrien lives with my father and my brother now. Which suits him well. He gets to flit between their labs and learn. How to prepare rare botanicals from my dad, herbalism and healing from my brother and his husband. He’s gonna be a hellova potions master.”

“I see now what you meant about ‘playing Solomon.’” Severus inclined his head, almost respectfully. “You would have made a fine Slytherin.”

She grinned. “I’ve come to that conclusion as well.”

His mouth quirked up at the corner. “How were you finally able to leave?”

“I was able to get a letter out to my father almost two years ago now, detailing all that had happened with the evidence that I had gathered, medical reports, pictures, witness statements, the lot.” She shrugged. “I hadn’t been able to get word to my father until that point anyways but things were escalating. Beau had imperio’d me a couple days prior after a particularly vicious day.”

Severus locked his jaw. “He imperio’d you?”

She nodded. “He had done it before, cher, don’t think too much about it. I wasn’t-“ she paused and sucked in a breath. “It’s not an excuse, of course, but I’m not the ideal woman by New Orleanian standards. I’m difficult and stubborn and opinionated. I have always been open about my dislike of his politics. While I was no longer able to speak openly about my political beliefs, one of his friends reminded him of things I said in school and in the early years of our marriage. He was on the campaign trail and was not amused.”

“So he imperio’d you?” Severus clenched his fist against the table. “I should’ve caused him more damage, more lasting damage.”

“Oh you did.” She grinned. “He’s in jail, Severus, British jail. He’s never been in any situation that he couldn’t weasel his way out of by virtue of his name alone. If nothing else, he’s very uncomfortable and he’s weak, spineless, enough that he will be damaged by this.”

He nodded. “Some comfort, I suppose. Continue. How did you leave this lump of fecal matter?”

She smiled and reached over to pat his hand. “As I said, things were escalating and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to keep myself and my son safe in that house much longer. He had never hit Hadrien but I could see that he was losing what little control he had. Hadrien stepped between us around that time and Beau pushed him out of the way. I think that was the first time Beau realized that Hadrien was bigger than him and there was fear there. I realized that the danger was very real and that I didn’t have as much control as I thought I did.” She paused, turning away to blink rapidly. “Hadrien was no longer safe and, even if he never laid a hand on him… I didn’t want my son finding my body.”

“My…” Severus swallowed. “My father beat my mother and I for most of my life until he died when I was eighteen.” Severus nodded. “I’m- not happy, but I don’t know how or if I would’ve been able to cope with finding my mother. I was at school when it happened. So I suppose I’m fortunate.”

“Your father-“

He nodded and she sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry that you had- I’ve just been vomiting all of this on you. I’m sorry, Severus.”

He shook his head, clearing his throat. “I chose to follow you here and I don’t regret it.”

Charlotte dabbed at fresh tears with her fingertips and nodded. “My father was livid. He told my brother and his husband and the rest is history. We waited until Beau ran for state attorney general and had started to do statewide campaign events, so he would be gone for long stretches at a time. I took my son and I moved back into my childhood home. I retained a lawyer, found the only judge who would listen and got a bullet-proof restraining order. I started collecting evidence and preparing my case. And now I’m here. I’ve been officially divorced for four months and some change.”

“So you moved here almost immediately after.”

“I stayed for two months. I didn’t want to leave my son but I couldn’t stay in New Orleans. I’m not demure enough to listen to people speak about things they knew nothing about without retaliating.” She blushed. “I jinxed an old school rival in broad daylight in the Quarter. Almost got arrested.” She shrugged when he arched a brow at her in askance. “She never did know when to mind her own business.”

He shot her a sly look. “What jinx?”

She gasped dramatically. “Severus!” She swatted at his arm. “Cantis. Since she likes the sound of her own voice so goddamn much.”

“Thank you for telling me this.” Snape paused, almost sympathetically. “I imagine that I may remind you of your husband. I’m sorry for that, Charlotte.”

She looked up and smiled. “You don’t remind me of Beau at all, Severus. Even in the beginning when you seemed determined to run me out of town, I… enjoyed our verbal sparring matches. I was never afraid of you. I felt engaged in a conversation for the first time in a very long time and I think you kept- keep me on my toes and I enjoy that. It’s refreshing.” She pulled one hand from around the mug and passed it over one of his hands briefly. “Also you’re taller.”

He snorted, releasing the breath he had been holding, and nodded, reaching for her mug of tea, which she relinquished with a small look of confusion. “Rosmerta doesn’t know that you don’t drink tea. It’s a shame to waste good tea.” After ordering her a cup of coffee, he reheated the tea silently and took a large, fortifying drink. “You mentioned that Beau was not your ‘cup of tea.’ Not blinded by a handsome face?”

She shook her head, smiling. “No. I prefer substance over style. Beau has always been a flash in the pan.”

“‘Substance over style’.” He drawled, eyes on her.

She nodded and shrugged, watching him from under her eyelashes. “I have always been attracted to intelligent men. Beau could talk his way out of almost anything, sure. He’s a politician. But he is all sound and fury-“

“Signifying nothing.” He drawled, looking down at his cup. “You mentioned earlier that everyone thinks we’re ‘flirting’…”

She sipped at her coffee and made a wordless noise of affirmation.

He caught her eyes. “Are we?”

She smiled. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m not not flirting.”

[dorotheafromthesea]

I'm back on campus and can't stop thinking about Robin and Nancy in college.

Think about late night study sessions at the library. When Robin needs to finish an important assignment until late in the night, because that’s when she is the most productive, Nancy likes to keep her company. She brings a blanket and a book to stay awake, but eventually she will fall asleep with one hand resting on Robin’s arm. The sight of Nancy snuggled up on the chair next to her might be the reason why Robin needs another three hours before she is done.

Think about Robin joining the student newspaper because Nancy spends so much time there and she misses her. After her first ideas were all rejected (“We’re a respectable newspaper, we cannot report on Big-Foot”), she comes up with a “Did you know that…” draft where she writes about everything that crosses her mind and might be interesting, from explaining the meaning and origins of a new word she just learned to nerdy historic facts and eventually she gives the readers an understanding of UFOs. Her section gets highly positive resonance from the students and Nancy can’t stop smiling and shows it to everyone she knows, because she is so proud of her girlfriend.

Think about both of them stressing about exams. Robin likes the repetition and mindfulness of well-known recipes and copes with stress baking the night before. Since one break-down because they were out of cinnamon, Nancy makes sure they have all the ingredients for Robin’s favorite recipes at home. She has a little box with back-ups in one drawer, just in case. Nancy on the other hand doesn’t really stress before exams, but afterwards. She is always convinced, that she forgot something important, couldn’t get her point across properly or maybe didn’t understand the question in the right way. To stop Nancy from going through the exam in her head over and over again, Robin made it a habit to wait for her outside the room after each exam and take her to a surprise date, sometimes it’s the next record store, the next time an indie bookshop, that she just found and often just a nice place that reminded her somehow of Nancy with a good coffee and some of her baked goods.

Think about Nancy secretly taking French classes after Robin told her about Operation Croissant. She is afraid to fail and therefore says nothing to Robin. While she isn’t a natural like Robin at new languages, she makes up for it with commitment and surprises Robin at their first anniversary with a french style picnic, talking to her in French. Robin is so touched that she doesn’t know what to say for once. After she regains her voice, she calls Nancy a “Cunning linguist” and they quickly end up in their bedroom, picnic forgotten in the living room.

Think about Robin calling Karen for the recipes of Nancy’s favorite meals. Whenever she knows that Nancy had a particular hard day or seems to feel homesick, Robin will make one of the recipes to calm Nancy. What began with comfort food like Mac and Cheese or the family chili, quickly evolved to more complicated ones when Karen notices Robin’s enthusiasm in the kitchen. It takes a good six month and a chat with her mother about her lovely roommate until Nancy realizes Robin learned all the recipes specially for her. When she does, she goes straight to Robin, pulls her in a tight hug and mumbles “I love you” in her chest with tears in her eyes.

[folkloreguk]

French Class [6]

A/N: You guys might want to whack out your love song playlist for this one…I cried writing this BYE I'm posting this from my grave!!

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), fwb, f2l?, college!au, fuckboy!bias, nerd!reader, ANGST, smut

words: ~ 3.8 k

✽series masterlist✽

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lovely-ateez, @runaway-fics, @mainexiii, @awfullytiredbuthealing, @erikyoong, @etherealuv, @staysuki, @justcuz-ican, @yeostars, @hyuckthangs, @teenloves, @mexious18-blog, @sunghoonied, @mailobjaeyoon

couldn’t tag: @chorizoek

You: can I come over? I kind of need u

H/N: you need me huh…you’re lucky I’m home alone

It always starts differently. Some other question, or a subtle message of telling him you’re bored, or a flat-out confession of being horny. The ending is always the same. You, naked in his bed. You just had to get there, and things were easy when you were already on his dorm’s doorstep.

The moment he had opened the door, you had fistfuls of his hair between your fingers and attacked his mouth in a feverish kiss. He made a noise between a laugh and surprise but reacted quickly. His lips parted right away, letting you in, and you tasted mint from the chewing gum he liked so much.

“Let me- at least- close the door,” he mumbled. “Jeez, what’s gotten into you today?”

You stepped aside and mirrored his grin. He was acting surprised, but the way he instantly locked your lips after he had shut the door told you he was enjoying this as much as you were. You ran your hands down his torso and along the side of his thighs. His happy hum only poured oil into the fire, and you saw no reason as to why you should have kept your clothes on any longer. In minutes, in the middle of heated kisses and clumsy chuckles, your clothes were discarded, and you were left in your underwear. You stumbled into his bedroom in a tangle of arms and legs and heads barely pulling apart.

“Will you tell me about the date you had today or are we skipping over that part?” he asked, as he pushed you down by the shoulders onto his bed. You groaned a little, not even knowing where to start.

“Didn’t go well, huh?” he asked. Only a few nights ago you had consoled him after his failed date, now the roles were reversed.

“That’s one way to put it,” you said. He was climbing on top of you now, and the weight of him between your thighs still did the same things to you it had done the first time. There was one of his random playlists playing quietly from the speakers, but you were both too occupied to even consider switching the music off. You weren’t in the mood for a chat, not when he was biting and sucking bruises into your chest, pushing aside your bra just enough. But you knew he wasn’t going to let it go this easily.

“Tell me about it or I won’t take one more piece of clothing off your body,” he threatened. You shot him an are-you-serious-look while he only blinked at you innocently, like he was awaiting your response.

“Fine,” you groaned. “But hurry, now.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, before unclasping your bra and throwing it to the other side of the room. “Go ahead, I expect a story.”

You had rolled your eyes at him, but when he sucked on your nipple all of a sudden, and his tongue flicked over the sensitive bud ever so perfectly, your eyes moved to the back of your head involuntarily. And, before he could complain, you started to retell today’s events.

“Alright. First of all, he acted all gentleman-y. Pulling back my chair at the restaurant, letting me have a look at the menu first, letting me order first, asking me if I was okay with our seats because they were in the sunshine, or whether he should have requested we get a different in the shade table, blah, blah, blah.”

With the lewd noises he was making, kissing your chest and fumbling with your breasts, you almost wondered whether he was paying attention to you at all.

“I’m waiting for the plot twist,” he chuckled. “If he had been this great, you wouldn’t be in my bed right now, would you?” He was now on his way to your lower regions. Your breaths came out shaky when he gripped your hips with familiar fingertips and placed a few kisses there, right above the material of your underwear. Nonetheless, you had to continue your story.

“Oh, it’s coming,” you said. “Because I suspect, the only reason he was acting that way was to compensate. For the fact that he was an hour late.”

He stifled a laugh, and you slapped his head playfully. “It’s not funny! I stood outside that restaurant on a busy street like an idiot for an hour. During exam season!”

“I wonder, if studying is so special to you- ,” he said. He tugged on your underwear, and you barely cared about his words when you were already imagining his mouth on your pussy. “Why aren’t you at home right now, doing just that?”

“Too frustrated,” you groaned, spreading your legs, practically inviting him in. “You don’t get it. That was only the beginning of the date. It gets worse.”

“Oh, damn,” he laughed, and you were going to slap him again. Harder, this time. But his tongue kitten-licked over your clit and you didn’t dare interrupt him further.

“First of all, he turned out to be boring. An economics major. And look, I’m not generalizing, I’ve met some cool economics majors. But when I said I never really understood the whole thing with inflation and deflation, I wasn’t asking for him to explain it to me. I know what it means, I just meant to say money is the root of all evil,” you said, little moans slipping inbetween your sentences. He laughed whilst sipping on your clit. You couldn’t be mad at his laughing anymore. In fact, at the sound of his chuckles, your own lips curled into a smile, too. God, he was so good with his tongue.

“But turns out he loved money. Like it was the sole reason he was doing anything. When he showed me his gold watch I almost yawned,” you continued.

“Dating a rich guy can have its upsides too, though,” he said, but you knew he was joking. He was running the tips of his fingers over your core, and you whimpered at how badly you wanted him to put them inside of you. You loved watching him, loved feeling his hair tickle the side of your thighs and having his free hand laying on top of your hipbone. The familiarity of it all, his little habits, made your heart heavy, so full of emotion, all of a sudden. But you had to snap out of it.

“Not this guy. He kept saying these lowkey sexist things I won’t repeat now. It’ll only make me mad again. He was one of those who thought money would buy him a girlfriend. And I was really trying to see the good in him…only there was none,” you said.

“Alright, I’m starting to understand why you needed some cheering up,” he said. “Good thing you’re at the right place. I know just the thing.”

At this, he slid his digits into you. You hummed and dropped your head into the plush pillow. Slowly, you exhaled, happy you finally got to relax after being so upset. But of course, he had to interrupt. Again.

“Did I say you could stop? Was that the end of the story?” he said. How did he expect you to form a coherent sentence? He fingered you gently, but the slowness of it all only drove you crazier. You felt every tiny sensation, every new bit of you he touched.

“No,” you sulked. “Fuck, it feels so good.”

“Go on, then,” he encouraged you, grinning because he was proud of your reaction he had caused.

“Fuck- okay. He was super shitty to the waiter. I’m talking about criticizing everything. This man had the audacity to complain about the food. I’m not a food critic, but I swear the food was amazing, there was nothing to fault at all,” you said, and then whined when he switched from licking your clit to sucking it between his teeth. You knew he was doing this on purpose. To make speaking harder for you.

“Oh my god, H/N. Wait, let me finish this. Not only was he horrible to the waiter in person, but he also made fun of the waiter’s appearance behind his back. And all along he expected me to find him funny. I used to think he had a sense of humor but not after today. Blech.”

“At least you got a free dinner?” he said, and without awaiting your answer, went back to work. Your head was spinning in pleasure, and you could only laugh sarcastically at his suggestion.

“Yeah. And after that train wreck of a date, he really thought he’d get to stick his tongue down my throat,” you said.

“Did he at least ask permission?” asked the boy between your legs.

“Mhm…but I told him I don’t do that on the first date,” you said. “Safe to say there won’t be another date, though.”

He looked up now, laughing more than before. You grinned, mainly because the sight of him was so cute. He folded his hands on your belly and put his face down onto your skin to giggle. In no way could you be upset or urge him to keep giving you head. In fact, you had forgotten about all of that for a while, as he seemed to enjoy your misfortune a little too wildly. You should have been hungry, eager to have the half-naked boy inside of you. Yet, you laughed at the way his breaths tickled your stomach and when he finally made eye contact, it was a wholly different sort of hunger which overcame you. Instead of the heat he usually made you feel, it was a comfortable warmth that was in your chest. It reminded you of a bonfire or of drinking your favorite hot drink on a cool autumn day.

“I want to watch you come,” he said, casually. “Were you close?”

You were so lost in his trustworthy, dreamy eyes, you almost forgot to reply. Quickly, you nodded and hummed.

“I would have already come, had you not pestered me to tell you all the details of my date,” you said. The way his cheeks beamed when he smiled made you feel as if your insides were turning into mush.

“I’m sorry. I’m your friend, aren’t I allowed to ask how your day went?” he asked.

“Of course you are,” you said. The word ‘friend’ echoed off every wall in your head until you wished you could have deleted it from the dictionary.

“I’ll make sure it feels extra good now,” he said, kissing your stomach. You shivered as you watched his gentle lips move lower, to your hips and the insides of your thighs. The touch felt like butterfly wings on your skin, and the tardiness of it made you impatient. When his tongue came in contact with your clit again, you sucked in a breath of surprise.

He tried to start slowly, but then you gripped his hair tightly, and carefully pushed him further. It was something you did often, a way to tell him you wanted more without having to use words. After all this time, he understood perfectly. Your clit was between his lips and his tongue flicked over the sensitive bundle of nerves with just the right amount of pleasure. It felt incredible, creating a funny sensation in the pit of your stomach. His fingers grazed over your slit until you were whimpering and shifting your hips, trying to make him hurry.

One of his digits slid into you easily, curling against your sweet spot, and it hit you only now how much you had missed him between your legs since he had stopped a few minutes ago. It made you feel as though you were suddenly overwhelmed with all of him, but you were willing to let the heat crash over you if it meant you could be close to him.

“Am I making it up to you now?” he asked as he pulled away merely for a breath. “I’ll turn your day into a good one after all.”

In a different tone his words would have sounded like the exact thing one would have expected to hear from a fuckboy in the bedroom. He could have boasted and bragged endlessly about how great he was with his tongue and fingers – he would have been right – but he didn’t mean it like that. You could tell from the uprightness and the authenticity in his voice that he really was doing his best because he wanted to make you feel better and turn your day around. Because you were special to him. Or so you desperately hoped.

Your legs wrapped around his shoulders as if you were trapping him between your thighs. But he was right there, and he would gladly stay for so much longer, and to say it puzzled you was an understatement. The boy who belonged to everybody, who was known by all of the campus, was treating you like you were royalty, and not the other way around. You moaned, his name inevitably falling from your lips. He added another finger and the slightest stretch made you lose your mind for a split second.

“That guy could have never made you feel this good, could he?” he suddenly asked. Your initial response was a helpless whine. You had been so close, and his talking had interrupted the otherworldly bliss for a moment.

“No, never,” you then whimpered shortly. ‘No’ was such a tiny word. It could barely encapsule what you truly meant to say. Which was that it would have never even gotten that far. That other guys couldn’t even have you at all. They didn’t get their turn to try and beat him. Not as of lately, at least. That you didn’t so much as dare to think about sleeping with other guys. That even before you had gone on the date, you had known it wouldn’t lead to anything. No guy could let you develop an interest on him in the same way the boy between your legs had done it. No other would be able to kidnap your brain like that. H/N was always there. Even when it was only you and your sex toys, you would automatically pretend it was him getting you off. You were so far gone that it was embarrassing how long it had taken you to admit it to yourself. But it was a colossal thing to confess to him, and you would never do that. Rejection would hurt a billion times more than whatever it was you two had now.

Your heart was racing as you closed your eyes. You had been so lost in thought, it was wondrous you hadn’t fallen yet. But you were right on the edge, making your breaths come out like puffs and a string of moans and swears sound from your lips. He too had stopped talking, concentrating on the task at hand, and judging by the way your back arched he was doing one hell of a good job.

“Oh my god- “ you whimpered. “I’m so close, H/N.”

This time he didn’t reply, which was for the best. Only a few seconds passed until you started to quiver and whine beneath him. You were going to outer space behind your eyelids as your high rushed through you. Your fingers curled and tightened in his locks while your legs clenched around his head. He was quick to pull your thighs apart again, still not being finished. For long seconds you swam in pleasure, with nothing on your mind but bursting stars. He was heaven, knowing precisely how far he could take it until you were too sensitive to take any more.

When you were at that point, he finally pulled away and looked up at your crumpled form. There was a lazy smile playing in the corner of your lips and your vision was hazy after having had your eyes closed for a while. He climbed up your body until his chest was against yours so he could really look at you.

“I get all of this without ever having been on a single date with you? I’m so lucky,” he said. You only smiled at him, at a loss for words. What were you to say? The two of you were clearly past the awkward dating stage already.

“I’m lucky you let me come over all the time,” you said. “I would have expected the campus fuckboy to be busier. To not have an empty spot in his bed every night.”

“Ah, shut up,” he said. “I’d rather have you here than a girl I don’t know at all. Look, I’m really tired so I don’t know how this will go…but can I?” He was on his knees, a tent visible in his boxers. With a questioning look, he was tugging them down his legs now.

“Of course,” you said. As you watched him roll on a condom, your ears perked up. Did that song have to come on shuffle just now? The coziest, most romantic love song you adored so much? You knew if you looked him in the eyes you’d be done for. But there wasn’t anywhere else to look when he settled between your legs and held up his weight with his forearms. His eyes were deep enough for you to get lost within a second. Distracting yourself was impossible. The one last thing you could do was to reach between the two of you and guide his length into you.

The song’s chorus came on, you looked at him once again, and suddenly you were all his. You didn’t need to tell him so. He thrust gently, almost carefully, like he had never done it with you. Your heart hammered against your ribcage so vivaciously, you wondered whether it had turned autonomous and was now trying to jump out of your body, onto his skin and through it, so it could nestle next to his own heart.

Neither of you spoke. Yet, there had never been so much chemistry, such a heavy amount of uncommunicated emotions between the two of you. You were ready to hang on his every word, should he decide to speak up. In your head rampaged a billion sentiments you needed him to know, but there was no option to express them adequately. Perhaps there were simply no words in the English language to declare your feelings for him.

Small whimpers and moans left your lips only for him to hear. Sometimes he moved a little quicker, gifting you with the most perfect sounds he could make. And to know you were the cause for it sent you into overdrive. His mouth was right above yours. If you lifted your head slightly, you could have kissed his sweet, sweet lips. But you were so afraid. What would he think? You had never kissed him during sex. Not softly, like you wanted it so terribly.

Even worse, you craved so much more than that. You wanted to pull him in, envelope his mouth in your own, crawl over the edge of his lips and reside in his chest for safety. Because that’s what he was. Comfort. Reassurance. Home. How foolish you had been, pretending this little fling would lead to nothing more. You really had told yourself this would work. No feelings. Just fun. You couldn’t deny having fun with him. He was the best company you had ever known, and he had become your most precious friend quickly. It was as if you had only been waiting for the silly, flirty boy to sit across from you in the library and make weak advances towards you.

The love song tuned out slowly, replaced by something more sensual and sinful. In accordance with the new background noise, he gripped your hips a little meaner and went faster. You barely noticed how his breathing had sped up as he was getting closer to his orgasm. A trance had overcome you, transfixing you on his godlike features and how much it hurt to know you couldn’t call him yours. In your head you were made for each other. They always said to date your best friend, didn’t they? You could try to turn back time, go back to your first meeting place, at the party. See if things would turn out different. But you knew they wouldn’t. As much as your fear tried to suppress it – you would take the same path again, stumbling head-first into his arms and letting him into your life like a crashing wave of laughter and heart-crushing conversations.

Now you reflected in despair, how he had taken your heart in a storm, without having to try too hard. And worst of all, you were okay with it. Your heart was secure with him, you thought. The feelings yearned to be spoken out loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“You feel so good,” he said. “Always, so fucking good.”

He snapped his hips against yours, burying his cock deep inside of you and all you could muster was a hum of agreement. This is what you got for keeping him at arms-length from the beginning. Wasn’t it you who had challenged him to be friends and only that? Perhaps you would be okay, so long as no one else called him theirs either. You could go on like this, letting him use you for sexual relief and making him laugh when he needed it. Gladly, you would take the pain of not being allowed to love him with your whole being if it meant you could see him whenever you wanted. Exposing those silly emotions would wreck your friendship and you wouldn’t let it happen.

He grunted and only then, when he lowered his head into the crook of your neck and moaned your name, you realized he was reaching his high. Softly, you cradled his head in your hands, as if it was the last time you could hold him like this. When he put his forehead against yours, he had his eyes closed and his chest was moving steadier than before.

“You’re the best,” he whispered. “Stay the night?”

Should you have gone home, and missed him all night? Would you have regretted saying no while you curled up in bed with no Cheshire-cat-grin-boy to hold? Or were you to remain in his bed, and pray you would survive the torture of not speaking your mind? His skin radiated the most wonderful warmth and you wanted to trace his lips with your eyes until you fell asleep. That’s how quickly it was decided.

“Okay,” you answered.

[flowersbby]

Drawn to You | Corpse Husband x Fem! Reader

Warning:  Makeout, This is a lil long (I got carried away)

Word count: 3859

It was a typical night for you. You had your music playing faintly in the background while you were writing notes for your anatomy & physiology class when you felt your phone vibrate violently on your desk, which caused your French bulldog, Royal, to wake up from his snoring slumber on your lap. With an annoyed huff, you pick up your phone and notice your best friend Rae had texted you numerous times.

Rae 😴

Hey!

Among Us!

Now!

Need 10th person!

Pleaseeeeee

You stared at the messages for a minute. You were confused on why she asked you of all people. You were the opposite of the many streaming friends she had who were loud, funny, and all around GOOD at games. Your shy character would not fit well on her stream and you knew that. Plus, the only games you’ve played are Stardew Valley and Animal Crossing, which requires no communication with people and you preferred it that way.

You

Why me? I’m in the middle of writing notes.

Rae 😴

There’s this person I want you to meet!

He’s really nice and you’ll warm up to the group in no time, I promise!

I won’t let them be mean to you 😤😤

They’re nice ppl anyway so they wont be mean lol

You

Okay.. let me load up my discord

Rae 😴

Yayy!

I already bought among us for you last time I was over so you’re good to go!

‘What? When did she find the time to buy the game for me? We were literally together the whole time she was here.’ You thought, but quickly dismissed it and loaded up discord. Right as you got online, you got an invite from Rae. You quickly grabbed your headset and adjusted your mic before joining the call. You petted Royal in an attempt to calm your nerves as you saw 9 peoples profile pictures appear in front of you. You only recognized Rae’s, of course.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Rae exclaimed, “Guys, this is my best friend (Y/N)! Introduce yourselves!”

“Hi, I’m Toast!” Said the man with the toast icon. You smiled at his profile picture. You found it cute.

“I’m Jack!” Said an Irish voice. You know Jack. You used to watch his videos a lot.

“I’m Poki!” Said a girl with a really sweet voice, “Nice to meet you!” You were about to say hello back when someone else chimed in.

“Hello, I’m Felix!” You recognized that Swedish accent. He was the most well known YouTuber, of course.

“Nice to meet you!” Said a really soft voice, “I’m Sykkuno!” His voice reminded you of an anime boy. You smiled to yourself.

“Hi, I’m Lily!” Said a really cute and high pitched voice. 

“Hi everyon-” You went to introduce yourself properly until you got cut off.

“I’m Corpse.” Said a deep, attractive voice. Your eyes widened for a second, his voice catching you off guard.

“H-hello,” You attempt to say hello again but this time you’re a little shaken up by Corpse’s voice, but you get it together by petting Royal once again. “I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you all!”

���Your voice is so adorable!” Says Lily. You smile at the fact that someone who’s voice is equally as adorable complimented yours.

“Thank you!” You respond, “Your voice is adorable too, Oh my God!” 

Lily giggles at your compliment. “Alright!” Exclaimed Rae, “Ready to play (N/N)?” You quickly realized you forgot to load up Among Us before hand. You were silently kicking yourself for not doing such a simple thing. Now they’re gonna have to wait longer to play because of you and they already waited long enough for you to join the discord call.

“Um..” You stall as you hurriedly click on the Among Us icon. “I’m so sorry. I forgot to load it up.. but it’s loading right now!” Your eyes are glued to the screen as if it’ll make the game boot up faster. 

“That’s okay.” Said Corpse in the most kind voice. “It won’t take that long.” You feel heat rushing to your cheeks just by hearing his voice. Who is this man and why is he making you feel like this?

They all agreed with Corpse and continued chatting about whatever they were chatting about before you joined the call. You were half listening as you were trying to figure out what to do as the game loaded up. Just as you were about to ask Rae, Corpse sent you the game code through a private message. You typed “Thank you!” as you quickly entered your name and then the game code.

“Woo! (Y/N)’s here!’ Said Rae happily. “Choose your color and your hat!” ‘Where do I do that?’ You thought to yourself but quickly found it. You wanted to be pink but it wouldn’t let you choose it.

“Why isn’t it letting me choose pink?” You asked. 

“It’s because Corpse is pink.” Explained Lily. “He took it from me too.” She said with a sad, but funny, tone.

“I can be a different color.” Corpse said and quickly changed his color from pink to white. 

“Oh, Thank you!” You said happily and picked a flower to match it.

“No problem.” He said and you could hear the smile in his voice. It made butterflies appear in your stomach.

“Are you kidding me?!” Said a laughing Lily. “I literally ARGUED with you about letting me have pink!”

“I sense something happening...” Cooed Rae in a sing songy voice. The whole group then erupted in “Ooooo’s”. This made you blush. You covered your face even though they couldn’t see you and Corpse chuckled, which only made you blush more.

Before the game started they all explained to you how to play so you wouldn’t be lost. This calmed your nerves a bit and when the game started you were happily going around the ship completing your tasks. Watering the plants was your favorite so far since you found it satisfying how the plants grew. You saw Corpse run up to you and you made your character step away a bit because you didn’t want to get killed. He instead ran circles around you and you decided to follow him for the rest of the game for safety. You both encountered Rae and Toast by the vending machines but didn’t think much of it and waited for Corpse to finish his task. Until Rae killed you and Toast killed Corpse. “A double kill?!” You shouted to yourself, causing Royal to wake up and slowly get off your lap. “I’m sorry buddy..” You said to him as he laid down in his dog bed. You turn your attention back to the screen as someone found you and Corpse’s dead bodies.

“Um, bodies found by the vending machines.” Said Felix who didn’t sound all too confident. “Jack where were you?” He asked.

“I was in..” As Jack was about to explain himself you heard a ‘pop’ emit from your headphones and saw a red dot by the messages icon. You clicked it and saw it was a message from Corpse. You completely stopped caring about the arguing going on through your headphones as Jack was trying to claim innocence.

“I like your flower :)” It read. You smiled big and immediately typed back.

Your fingers hovered over the keys thinking about what to type back but you settled on a simple “Thank you :D”.

After two games or so everyone got tired and decided to head out. You all said your goodbyes and watched as each person slowly began to leave the call. You didn’t want to leave until you were sure everybody was gone. Everybody left but Corpse. “Hey..” He said, sounding a little shy but it was probably just because he was tired.

“Hi!” You said a little too excited. You immediately wished you could reword what you said a little calmer.

“So, uh..” He began, “Could I possibly get your number? For Among Us games I mean?” He didn’t sound too sure of himself but him asking this made you beam with excitement.

“Of course.” You said calmer than before, “But I don’t know what help I’d be as I’m terrible at this game.” You giggled.

You typed in chat your number, your fingers shaking slightly. “Nah, I liked playing with you.” He said more confident, “You make it more fun. Even though I haven’t ever spoken to you before.” He chuckled. You smiled at his words. Butterflies formed in your stomach hearing him laugh.

You and Corpse chatted a bit more until he decided he should go, but you wished you guys could have kept talking the whole night. You felt this connection with him that you couldn’t put into words. It felt so easy for you to talk to him and you didn’t feel as nervous around him as the others you met today. There was something so calming about him that washed your fears away. You shook your head from the thoughts and told yourself that you just met him today, you shouldn’t get ahead of yourself but it was hard not to.

You were laying in your bed scrolling through twitter when you got a text.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

hey its corpse

is this (Y/N)?

Your heart skipped a beat. You were excited Corpse texted you so fast, hoping you two could continue talking.

You

That’s me!

I thought you were going to sleep?

Corpse🥺🖤

nah i hardly ever sleep i just left because i didnt want to keep you up

i really enjoyed playing with you

You

I enjoyed playing with you too

We should play together again soon

Corpse🥺🖤

definitely

You’ve begun to become really good friends with Corpse over the past week. You and him would facetime each other whenever you could. You always were on facetime with him, actually. Whenever you were studying, you guys were talking. Whenever he was editing, you guys were talking. When you were about to go to bed, you guys were talking. 

Right now, you guys were facetiming as you were studying for an upcoming exam and he was trying to stay awake. You liked having him around when you were studying even if it was through a phone. You didn’t feel pressured to talk or have to worry about an awkward silence with him. It was comfortable silence.

You started to worry that you were keeping him up, though. “You can go to bed if you want,” You said softly as you looked up from your textbook to the black screen propped up against a few books. “ I don’t want to keep you up. You need some rest.”

“No..” He muttered, “I like having you around..”

“I like having you around too Corpsie but we can talk when you wake up.” You told him a little sternly in an effort to convince him to go to bed.

“Can I ask you something?” He asked out of the blue.

You paused before answering and shifted your gaze to the black screen once again. “Yeah sure, go ahead.” 

“Do you want to maybe stay over here for a bit?” He asked, “Whenever you’re free, I mean. If you don’t want to I get that too I just feel so drawn to you I want you closer to me. Is that weird? I’m sorry if that’s weird. Actually, forget I said-”

“I’d love to come over.” You told him with a smile. “When would you want me to be there?”

“As soon as possible.” He said in his raspy, tired voice. Butterflies formed in your stomach and you felt your heart skip a beat. This man was something else.

“I can be over there in the morning..” You start, “I just have to pack and everything. Is it okay if I bring Royal? I don’t want to leave him with my sister.” You look over to Royal sleeping peacefully on your bed, snoring away.

“Hell yeah!” Corpse exclaimed, “I love animals! Bring him over.” You giggled at his excitement.

Corpse ended up falling asleep soon after and you ended the call. As you were getting ready for bed you began to think of what Corpse’s place would be like and what you guys would do. You were definitely going to show him Stardew Valley, that was for sure. You pondered the thought of you finally confessing to him that you wanted to be not just his friend, but girlfriend. You’ve been wanting to do it for awhile now but you get too scared and end up chickening out, so you figured if he liked you like you like him, he’d make the first move. You started to make up scenarios in your head about finally hanging out with Corpse in person as you drifted off to sleep, hearing Royal snoring peacefully in the background.

It was the next morning and as soon as you woke up you changed into your favorite outfit and began to pack. You didn’t know how long you were staying for but you decided to pack about 2 weeks worth of clothes just to be on the safe side. Royal was sitting on the floor watching you as you hurried from your closet to the suitcase on your bed. You were happily humming as you were excited about the day. You heard your phone buzz and you quickly grabbed it from your bed as you saw the name pop up on the screen.

Corpse🥺🖤

hey :) 

heres the address:

You

Thanks! and hello 😊

You two texted until you were ready to go. You were definitely NOT looking forward to driving two and a half hours from LA to San Diego but you were so excited to see Corpse that the dread of the long car ride washed away.

You put Royal into his harness and plopped him in the back seat. He looked at you confused since he rarely ever gets to go for rides in the car. “We’re going to see a friend!” You tell him while petting his head. He then laid down and began to close his eyes.

After what seemed like forever you were finally outside Corpse’s apartment. You grabbed Royal and attached his leash to his harness and then proceeded to grab your giant (and heavy) suitcase out of the trunk. You struggled getting the suitcase up the apartment building stairs but you managed. You felt a sense of relief that his apartment building had an elevator so you didn’t have to deal with more stairs. The ones at the entrance were enough. While you were waiting for the elevator to take you to his floor you took this opportunity to text him.

You

On my way up!

Almost immediately after you sent it he read it. He started typing but the three dots quickly disappeared. Before you could question it the elevator doors opened to his floor. “Come on, Bud!” You said to Royal and motioned for him to go ahead. Royal got up from his sitting stance and lead the way. After passing 2 other doors, you were at Corpse’s. You knocked two times.

You heard shuffling on the other side and the door knob turning shortly after. Before you knew it, Corpse was in front of you. His eyes were looking at yours. You immediately smiled. “Hi.” Corpse said with a slight smile as well.

“Hi..” You said shyly. You didn’t know how to react now that he was in front of you and not behind a screen. He stepped aside and motioned for you to come inside. You entered his apartment and set your suitcase by the couch. Royal was pawing at Corpse’s leg, begging for pets.

“Aww, hi buddy!” Corpse said excitedly. “He’s so well behaved.” Corpse was talking to you now.

“Yeah, it took work though.” You laughed slightly. “Your place is really nice.” You said as you looked around. You noticed all of his mirrors were covered up, but you decided not to ask him about that. He probably had his reasons.

“Thank you.” Corpse said as he looked at you. “You look pretty.”

You blushed and turned your head away from him so he couldn’t see your pink cheeks. “Thank you.”

Corpse cleared his throat, “So uh, I don’t have a guest bedroom so I’ll take the couch for however long you want to stay.”

You quickly shot your head at him. “No no no I’m not letting you sleep on the couch in your own apartment.” You argued with him.

“Well, I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.” Corpse stated.

“Then we’ll share your bed.” You said with a shrug and headed towards his room to set your suitcase down, Royal following closely behind you. You didn’t see anything wrong with it. You and Rae share one whenever you guys sleep over at each other’s house and you thought this was no different

“O-okay.” He responded and quickly followed after you, “So, this is my room.” he said as you and him both entered.

“I like it!” You exclaimed as you looked around. You liked how dark it was in there. You smiled at him and he smiled back at you. That smile.. You thought and quickly fumbled with your suitcase as you set it down by his closet. Corpse came closer to you.

“Can I give you a hug?” Corpse said a little shyly, as if I’d say no.

“Of course!” You said and wrapped your arms around his neck. He was taken aback but quickly put his hands around your waist. You caught a whiff of his mild cologne which made you want to stay in the hug a little longer. You didn’t want to be weird though and pulled away from the embrace.

“I’m really happy you’re here.” He said as he looked into your eyes. I could kiss him right now, oh my God. Your mind raced, but you managed to get out some words.

“I am, too.” You said.

It’s only been about a day since you’ve been over at Corpse’s. Sharing the bed seems to be no big deal as he barely seems to sleep. You so far liked being there with him.

Right now, you were on the phone with an overly excited Rae.

“You’re at his HOUSE?!” She yelled excitedly in your ear. Your face cringed a little bit from the yelling.

“Yeah,” You told her, “He has a really nice place.” You said as you scanned his living room.

“I knew you guys would hit it off!” Rae said, “I should be a matchmaker or something.” You blushed at her comment.

“Nothing’s happened yet.” You said quietly, not wanting Corpse to hear you.

“Girl, you’re at his house.” Rae said in a obvious tone. You rolled your eyes.

“This could just mean he likes having me over as a FRIEND.” You told her. You were hoping that wasn’t the case though and Corpse did have feelings for you. You smiled at the thought.

“You are so oblivious.” Rae said with a sigh, “Anyway, I gotta go workout. Love ya! Hope everything goes well!” She said the last part in her sing songy voice.

“Love you too!” You said back and ended the call. What do I do now? You thought. Corpse was streaming so you couldn’t hangout with him right now and your physics class isn’t till a few hours. You were hungry, though, and decided to cook some lunch for you and Corpse. It’ll be a nice surprise for him. You smiled at the thought.

You made your delicious Dorito taco salad that you love so much. You made a bowl for Corpse as well and took it to his room where he resided. He didn’t seem to be streaming anymore and was just scrolling through Twitter on his computer.

“I come with food!” You say as you place the bowl down in front of him. You seem to have startled him as he jumped slightly when you spoke. He examined the bowl suspiciously.

“What is this?” He says cautiously of your creation.

“It’s Dorito taco salad.” You explain, “It has crushed up Doritos, of course, shredded chicken, lettuce, olives, and sour cream in it.” He seemed to be skeptical of it, which was a given every time you made it for someone new, but people ended up loving it when they tasted it. You were confused as to how many people found it weird since your mom made it for you when you were a kid a ton, so you were used to the delicious lunch dish.

“Okay.” He said and took a bite of it. His eyes lit up. “Oh my god, this is so good!” He exclaimed and took another bite. You giggled with excitement that he loved it like you did.

You both ate together and laid down on the bed as you talked about random things that were going on in your lives. You guys were laughing at a joke Corpse said until Corpse got serious.

“I have to tell you something.” Corpse said and looked into your eyes.

“Okay,” You said confused, “Go ahead.”

He took a deep breath. “I like you.” He confessed, “Like, romantically. I have for awhile now actually and I don’t know what it is about you and I thought I was done with love but you make me feel so happy and different from anyone else I’ve talked to. You don’t have to feel the same way but I couldn’t keep my feelings in for any longer.”

You paused for a moment. Is this actually happening? Are you in a dream? “I like you too, Corpse.” You say softly. His eyes beam with excitement..

“Really?” He asks.

You laugh at his bewilderment. “Yes, really!”

He tackles you in a hug on the bed. You giggle from his excitement. He’s on top of you and he lifts his head up from your neck to look you in the eyes. You get a rush of emotions as you see the care and love in his eyes as he’s looking at you.

You blurt out what you were thinking in that exact moment. “Kiss me.”

He leans in and kisses you softly. One hand is holding him up on the bed as the other is cupping your cheek. You take one hand and tangle it in his hair. This causes him to deepen the kiss with you. The kiss turns rough. You’re both so in the moment you don’t want to come up for air but you guys manage to keep going by taking in air when your lips part for brief moments. The hand that was cupping your cheek is now next to your head, taking the responsibility of holding him up. The other hand is trailing up and down your thigh, squeezing your thigh tightly ever so often. You eventually break the heated kiss and look up at him. You were hoping he could see the love you had for him in your eyes.

“I liked that.” You say smiling.

He chuckled at your words. “I like it too.”

[ptergwen]

Hi val! Got a request, it's okay if you don't wanna write it, but can you write about peter telling the reader he's going on a huge mission and he's excited about it but the reader is so worried they end up arguing? But when peter gets back from mission all bruised, the reader is still upset but dresses his wound anyway and it ends up with fluff??

abort mission

w/c: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of blood, swearing, and angst

a/n: woah woah woah i ended up writing way more than i expected but i loved this request so much :,) i hope you do too

-

“we’re staying in this, like, super fancy castle while we’re there. it’s gonna be awesome,” peter rambles to you. he takes all the clean shirts in his drawer and throws them into a suitcase.

he’s packing for a mission in europe with the avengers, and you’re here to say goodbye. you’ve been pretty quiet while peter gives you as many details as he’s allowed to. it’s always an honor when the team invites him on. he gets so stoked about it. you’re happy he’s happy and gets to pursue his passion, but you’ve noticed a pattern.

every time peter leaves the country with earth’s mightiest heroes, he comes back in worse condition than the last. it seems like they protect everyone except peter. he’s oblivious to the fact that the end result is always his suffering. he’s just glad to be there. really, he gets nothing in return except scars that never heal, not even a permanent spot on the team. 

so, you’re not thrilled he agreed to go.

“plus, i get to miss two weeks of school.” peter beams, getting onto his knees to zip the suitcase. “feels like a vacation almost.” “you like school, though,” you remind him. you’re sat at the edge of his bed while you watch, rather than help. he hops up again with a shrug. “i like vacations more.” “it’s not a vacation,” you mutter to yourself, then speak up.

“how are you gonna catch up? that’s a lot of missing assignments.” with that same innocent smile, peter walks over to you. he grabs both your hands and laces your fingers together. “i’m a fast learner. besides, ned said he’d help me.” you sigh, looking down at the floor so you don’t have to look at peter. “or, you could. make it into a little study date when i get back,” he suggests while playing with your fingers.

“i don’t even want you to go,” you finally admit and meet his sparkling eyes. nothing could ever dull them. “why not? you’re gonna miss me?” peter teases, pressing a couple of kisses to your palm. “you don’t have to. i’m pretty sure france has wifi.” he wiggles his eyebrows. “oui oui, mademoiselle, eh?” despite yourself, you giggle at his french accent and tug on his hands. he sits down next to you with a chuckle.

“nat has been giving me lessons,” peter explains, you quirking an eyebrow. “she speaks french?” “she speaks a lot of languages, actually. she’s so cool.” peter scoots closer to you and sets his hands on your waist, his voice dropping. “you’d love her.” your face twists up in confusion at the idea.

you don’t have anything against the avengers, obviously. they’re good people. you’re just not the biggest fan of them at the moment, considering the circumstances they’ve put peter under.

“peter, i don’t want you to go,” you repeat more seriously than before. your teeth sink into your lower lip. “and, it’s not because i’ll miss you.” “none taken,” peter jokes, implying there should’ve been a no offense. he then realizes how distressed you look, so he cuts it out. “sorry, sorry. i’m done now. how come?”

you take his hand again and hold it tight. “what if you get hurt?” you ask in the nicest way possible, out of care. “i don’t wanna see you hurting, pete. this mission sounds really... dangerous.” he runs his thumb over the back of your hand, his grin faltering a bit. “it is, but i’m ready for it. i’ll be fine.”

you’re not convinced yet. that line he likes to overuse isn’t enough to do the trick.

his eyes searching for yours, peter brushes a piece of your hair back. “have a little faith in me, babe.” “no, i... i do. i have the most faith in you, peter.” you find yourself frowning as he twirls your locks around his finger. “that’s not the problem.” peter’s voice becomes a whisper. “what is it, then? talk to me.”

you do the opposite because you’re afraid you’ll upset him further, which is the last thing he needs right now. your silence prompts peter to fill it. “would it make you feel better if i say mr. stark is keeping an eye on me?” he’s smiling sheepishly, you scoffing. “oh, like he kept an eye on you in amsterdam?”

the only eye related activity that happened there was peter almost losing one of his. he’d come back with an eyepatch and couldn’t see out of it for over a month. to this day, there’s still a bit of blood in it when you look close enough.

“i already told you, that was my fault,” peter grumbles, turning so he faces forward. “i didn’t listen to him-“ “who gives a shit? he’s the one who put you in that situation!” you blurt out. you’ve been way too patient this whole time, and now you’re reaching your breaking point. “you say that like i didn’t wanna be there.” peter clenches his jaw, still mostly calm.

“either way, mr. stark,” you mock what peter always calls him, “was supposed to keep you safe, and he didn’t. i’m scared it’s gonna happen again.” letting out a noise close to a growl, peter stands up from the bed. “you’re not listening to me, y/n. everything was fine. i just-“ you’re not in the mood to hear him make excuses, so you interrupt.

“do you know any other sixteen year olds who fight literal terrorists on their free time?” you rhetorically ask and get to your own feet. peter tries to walk away from you, only you follow him. “you’re a kid, peter, in case you forgot.” he spins around to give you a nasty look. “do you know any other sixteen year olds who stick to fucking walls?”

your heart starts to race from his sudden outburst. he’s scary when he’s mad, and he almost never gets mad at you. all you can do is blink dumbly. “didn’t think so,” peter spits. “this is what i’m supposed to do, help people. is that so wrong?” his breathing becomes ragged as his anger grows.

“what about you? are you helping yourself?” you speak softly, expecting an answer this time. “you’re not my fucking therapist, y/n,” he deflects the question. “i am your girlfriend, though. i care about you so much, you know that.” eyebrows furrowed in concern, you reach out for peter. he takes a step back. it doesn’t take long for tears to cloud your vision.

“i was excited to share this with you, and i thought you’d be happy for me.” peter balls his hands into fists at his sides. his voice stays low. “instead, you made it all about yourself. you can never let me enjoy team stuff.” you’re speechless, peter nodding as he lets his words sit. “thanks for the support.”

“you’re an asshole,” you laugh out bitterly and wipe under your eyes.

he didn’t mean to make you cry. he was so caught up in himself, he didn’t realize you were.

peter’s whole demeanor changes. “y/n, baby...” he attempts to put a hand on your cheek, but you hit it away. “get off of me. what did i just say?” you sniffle, your tone harsh in contrast. “you’re an asshole, peter.” he changes his mind about feeling bad. you’ve berated him way more than he did you, anyway.

“you should go. i have to be up early,” peter decides, even though he’d said you could stay the night. whatever, you don’t want to anymore. “fine,” you agree shortly. “i’m leaving.” he stands there while you collect your things, shoving them into your bag. you’re going slow enough so he has a chance to stop you. he doesn’t.

you pass by him on your way to his door, sucking in a breath. here’s your official goodbye. “see you later, peter. don’t die.” “mhm, i won’t,” he replies, his tongue poking at his cheek. with one more shared look between you two, you make your grand exit, no doubt informing may of her nephew’s behavior before you’re gone.

peter immediately regrets the way he talked to you, and that you’re leaving things like this. you were only trying to protect him. you’ll never be able to save the city like he does, so this is how you do it. he truly is an asshole for not seeing that.

frustration consuming him, peter kicks over his fully stuffed suitcase, its contents spilling out. he grits his teeth.

“fan-fucking-tastic.”

-

you don’t talk to peter the whole two weeks he’s gone except for some are you alive and yes texts. he’d called you quite a few times, and was sent to voicemail for all of them. he gave you the benefit of the doubt because of timezones.

it was actually because you declined, which peter knew deep down was the real reason.

he’s coming home from his mission today. you’re not sure when or if he plans on dropping by. you’re not sure you’d like him to, either. you don’t really get a choice in the end.

there’s a series of knocks at your window, at some ungodly time in the night. you’re all too familiar with this routine. it’s peter.

you slip out from under your covers, a scowl already painting your face as you go to the window. surely enough, peter is perched in front of it, clad in red and black. the suit must be new because you’ve never seen it. you push up the window and step aside so he can get through.

“thanks,” peter mumbles, climbing into your room less gracefully than usual. he’s sort of wobbly when he lands. “yeah,” you dully acknowledge. “how was france?” “uh, good. you know, lots of cheese and all that.” his voice is muffled from his mask, since he hasn’t taken it off yet. that’s odd. “i was talking about the mission, but cool,” you almost laugh back.

“the mission was... fine,” peter clarifies and scratches the back of his neck. he never describes something as simply being ‘fine.’ when the boy talks, he lectures. you’re starting to get worried. “that’s good. at least you didn’t die, right?” you say to lighten the mood. peter awkwardly chuckles. “haha, yeah. thank god for that.”

you hum and walk over to sit on your bed, peter staying where he is. “what time did you get back?” you wonder, a completely harmless question. “um, this morning,” he says in response, raising your suspicions. “why’re you still in the suit, then?” you squint at him. “i like it, by the way.” “thanks, y/n/n. i, uh,” peter trails off, no good explanations coming to mind.

you’re quickly developing a hunch for what what down. you wordlessly get up again, meeting peter by your window. he’s nervous to see what happens next. peter’s shoulders slump when your fingers land on his mask. you carefully lift it, revealing his face to you. his banged up, bloody face.

“surprise.” peter musters up a grin, you tossing the mask at his chest. you’re beyond angry now. it’s not at him, athough it is at his injuries. “please don’t be mad,” he nearly begs, you shaking your head. you go to leave your room for some space. peter’s fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you back. “i should’ve listened to you, okay? i’m sorry,” he genuinely apologizes.

you still don’t say anything while you look over his beaten body. there’s a gash with stitches in it on his chin, a deep slice across the bridge of his nose, cuts littering his cheeks. he’s even got a busted lip for good measure. this might be the worst condition he’s let you see him in.

“you were right, y/n. i think... i think i’m gonna sit the next one out. it’s too much for me, clearly,” peter continues, fingers sliding down to lock with yours. “you should say you told me so.” “how... how did this happen?” you manage to get out instead. “the bad guy fought me,” he says with the hint of a smirk. “i won, though.”

it’s a relief that he’s handling this so well, even earning a laugh from you. that puts you more at ease.

“this is probably a dumb question, but are you okay?” you brush your thumb over peter’s cheekbone gently, avoiding his scratches. “not really. my face hurts a lot, and flash is gonna tease the hell out of me on monday.” his lips form a line, arms looping around your waist. it’s very much welcomed by you.

“you just spent two weeks trying not to die, and you’re worried about flash?” you snicker and draw a heart on his skin. peter shrugs a shoulder. “he’s so mean to me.” he brings you in closer to him. “besides, this is the normal kid stuff i should be focusing on.” you’re glad he finally came to terms with that. you’ve been saying it for the longest time.

you smile wickedly at him. “exactly. so is all that homework you have to make up.” peter lets out a breathy laugh, you laying your head on his chest. “i missed you,” he tells you quietly. “really wish i could kiss you right now.” “i missed you too, pete. so much,” you murmur into him. your hands settle on his biceps. “and, i forgive you.” “thanks, baby,” peter exhales.

“of course. once your lips are healed,” you pull back from his chest, making a kissing noise. “pucker up, lover- oh my god.” you’re looking up at him with wild eyes. peter gets reasonably startled from it. “what? what’s wrong?” “you... you’re bleeding!” you point at his stitches. he winces, touching the spot. there’s blood, alright.

“crap. do you have a bandaid or something?” peter gives you an apologetic smile. “mr. stark said i should cover them when this happens.” maybe, tony isn’t so bad after all. you nod and take him by his hand. “yeah, in the bathroom. come with me.”

peter sits on the edge of your bathtub while you patch up his chin. he tells you more about the fun parts of his mission, you placing the cinderella bandaid over his gash. you have those from a while ago and also regular ones. however, he preferred the princess design.

“you saw the real mona lisa? like, in person? that’s insane.” you grin, smoothing down peter’s bandaid one last time. “yeah, she’s even prettier up close.” peter returns the smile. “thanks for taking care of me, y/n. i swear i don’t deserve you sometimes.” now pouting at him, you crouch down so you’re at his level. “it’s the other way around, peter.”

“let’s just agree to disagree,” he concludes and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “i love you, okay?” “i love you, too.” you press a light kiss to his bandaid, getting a giggle from peter.

yeah, it’s going to be hell finding replacements for his lips.

[crystalsoobin-m]

hello! can u do a hermione x reader inspired by the song 'jenny' by studio killers :DD i luv your writing btw <33

lovers instead || h.g.

a/n: at first i had to search up the song lmao bc i forgot it was called that but i think it’s a great idea! also i’m pretty sure the singer is female. Lately, I’ve been watching romance anime so that’s why this is kinda intense lmao. tbh, this could’ve turned into smut, but i didn’t want to make it that long so… maybe ill write one if you guys want. You can lmk in the comments. Also thank you sm for the compliment. <33 I really liked this imagine/story its very… how do i say it, like it keeps your attention i guess idrk lol

pairing: hermione x fem!reader

summary: y/n finally tells her best friend that she loves her.

warnings: steaminess ig (it’s kinda intense) kinda dom!reader (if you that makes sense cus there’s no smut) heated kissing/making out, french kissing, fluff at the end.

<based on the song ‘Jenny’ by Studio Killers.>

Y/n has had feelings for her best friend for 2 years. It started in year 3 when they were at Hogsmeade. Hermione had laughed at one of y/n’s jokes, causing an eruption of butterflies. She beamed every time she hears Hermione’s name. She had never felt like that about Hermione before. It took months to figure out what she was feeling, and once she did she couldn’t help but feel sad, knowing the girl she had a crush on had eyes for a certain Weasley.

But last year Cedric died in the tournament. He was y/n’s friend. And from that, she realized that she couldn’t waste any time. Any on of her friends could die at any moment. She had to tell Hermione this year.

Then, the opportunity arose. Her and Hermione were alone in the common room. Hermione was studying and y/n was reading. She kept getting distracted by Hermione’s presence. Blood rushed to her face as she studied Hermione’s features. Her furrowed eyebrows, her slightly pursed lips, the way her eyes shined under the light of the fire. It was all too much. She couldn’t contain herself.

She stood up from the couch, slowly walking behind Hermione. Y/n sat down behind her, Hermione oblivious to the whole thing. Y/n placed her hands on the base of Hermione’s neck and started to massage the girl’s shoulders. “You need a break from studying ‘Mione. We already know everything that hag’s teaching us, especially you.” She said sweetly.

Hermione stiffened slightly as her hands moved slightly down to the upper part of her chest. “Y/n, what are you doing?” Hermione’s face flushed as y/n leaned close to her ear, her thumbs still working her neck.

“You need to destress. Doesn’t this feel nice?” She whispered. Hermione stayed silent and relaxed into y/n’s touch. Y/n took the opportunity to try and sneakily move her hands down the valley of Hermione’s chest. Hermione blushed even more, and stiffened slightly.

“Y/n-” She turned around to face y/n. She didn’t understand what suddenly influenced her best friends behaviour. “What-?” Y/n grabbed Hermione’s chin with her index finger and thumb.

“Hermione, darling…” she smirked at Hermione’s speechless figure. She started to feel excited at Hermione’s reaction. She always thought Hermione was into Ron. Maybe she still is. But y/n’s too motivated by Hermione’s lack of reaction to care.

“Y-yeah?” Hermione asked quietly.

“You’re my best friend. But- there’s a few things that you don’t know of.” Y/n started, bringing Hermione’s face slightly closer. She hummed in response staring in to y/n’s eyes. “Why I borrow your lipstick so often… I’m using your shirt as a pillow case…” Y/n suddenly let go of Hermione’s face but it stayed in it’s place. “I wanna ruin our friendship.” Y/n said, a smirk still on her face. Hermione frowned and slightly backed away, feeling hurt. Was y/n just teasing her before ‘dumping her’?

Y/n didn’t even know what was making her say all this. Before Hermione could get away any further, y/n grabbed her face again and leaned next to her ear, their cheeks touching. Hermione flushed again, as well as y/n. “We should be lovers instead.” she whispered. Hermione’s eyes widened for a second. She softly pushed y/n away and stared at her smiling face.

“Y/n…” Hermione’s eyes flickered down to y/n’s lips for a split second. “I-I didn’t know you felt like this… but I like Ron-”

“No you don’t.”

“What? What do you mean I don’t?” Hermione asked slightly offended.

“Your body language is a big tell.” Hermione still looked unamused so y/n elaborated, “Your flushed face,” she pressed a hand to Hermione’s face and passed her thumb over the girl’s red cheek. “Your speechless expression,” y/n’s smirk widened at Hermione’s still wide eyes from when she felt y/n’s hand on her cheek. “The way your eyes flickered to my lips a few moments ago.”

“I-” Hermione tried.

“Ron doesn’t make you feel this way, does he?” Y/n leaned closer to Hermione’s face. Hermione slightly shook her head, following y/n’s lead. After what felt like forever, their lips connected. What started as soft became passionate and desperate.

Y/n was right, Hermione had never felt this way about Ron. She had become too engrossed in the idea of a goofy, kind boyfriend to realize that she beamed every time y/n laughed, flushed at every touch of her hand, mentioned her in every conversation.

Hermione wrapped her arms around y/n’s neck and pulled her closer. Y/n, captivated by the kiss, slipped her tongue into Hermione’s mouth. Hermione hummed desperately at the action and tangled her hands in y/n’s hair, tugging at it. It went on for minutes more, feeling like hours, until finally, they pulled away breathing heavily.

“Wow…” Hermione said breathlessly. Y/n smiled and pushed Hermione’s hair behind her ear.

“I’m in love with you, Hermione.” Hermione beamed,

“I think I am too.” Y/n raised an eyebrow,

“You’re in love with yourself?” She said jokingly. Hermione chuckled.

“No, I mean- I’m in love with you too.” Y/n pressed her forehead against Hermione’s and placed her hand on her face, the bushy-haired girl doing the same.

“Well, good for me, then.”

[mcwriting]

A Science Project for the Ages

Big thanks to this anon for this request! Sorry it's taking me longer to fulfill my requests from when I was in quarantine but I'm trying to get those done soon!

This is a slight continuation of lab partners but can definitely be read alone :)

Ship: SoftNerd!Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 1883

Warnings: one blink-and-you'll-miss it bad word

⚛︎

There was a loud buzz as your phone vibrated against the wood table in the science library.

You quickly picked it up, trying not to disturb the few other students around as you looked down at the screen.

Tom.

Though you were together now, he very rarely called at this time. He knew you always studied here before dinner time and respected that.

You grabbed your notebook and bag and shuffled into the hall to answer.

"Tom? Is everything okay?"

"Hey, um. So sorry to bother you, but you've finished your science expo project, right?"

You furrowed your brows as you slid down the wall to sit and stuff your notebook back in your bag. You knew this conversation was going in a weird direction already. You could hear a faint beeping in the background.

"Uh, yeah..?"

"Right, and what was that project over again?"

"I did an analysis on light absorption of different common solutions and then compared them to the color they turned when I lit them on fire. I thought we already talked about this the other day..?"

"Yes, yeah, sorry. So one more question before I tell you what's up. Do you happen to know how to bake?" Tom asked quietly.

Suddenly you remembered what all his project was on.

He was doing a food chemistry project, explaining certain phenomenons that happen when you bake. He had hoped giving people baked goods would make them like his project more.

"I- Tom I told you I would help you but you said it would be fine," you said flatly."

"Well..... Now it's not fine, and Alex isn't here to help me. He went to his girlfriend's."

Tom's roommate. He was usually pretty patient with Tom's clumsiness, but sometimes he just had to get out and enjoy a day off, too. Tom understood, but now the burden fell on you.

"Fine, I'll be there in a little bit. Text me if you need me to bring anything."

⚛︎

You walked in to the smell of burnt. It was overwhelming and you choked as you rushed to the window to air out the apartment.

"Hey, sorry about the smell," Tom said nonchalantly from the kitchen.

You turned to see the situation at hand, which was definitely... a situation.

It was like something out of a movie. Messy bowls and utensils littered the sink. There was cake batter splattered across the counters. Finally, the culprit still sat in a muffin tin on the bar: a dozen very black cupcakes.

You sighed.

"Forgot to set the timer?"

"Yep."

"And let me guess. This was your first experience with baking?"

"That's exactly right."

"Of course," you muttered, but then clapped your hands together enthusiastically. "Well, then. Let's try and fix this, shall we?"

You leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to Tom's cheek, then brushed past him to grab the tray.

"First on the agenda, we are going to take off the papers and chuck these off the balcony to let out some frustrations, alright?"

You were lucky in that Tom's apartment was on the top floor, and his balcony faced a wooded area. The only thing he could hit was a tree and the food would eventually biodegrade into the soil.

You both tossed them, competing to see who could throw the farthest. It let Tom blow off some steam, and also gave more time to ventilate the place before you went back in.

After the last cupcake (if you could call it that) was tossed, you got started on cleaning everything up. He had used a lot of bowls for one boxed cake mix, but you didn't ask.

It took a while to make sure things were sufficiently clean, but finally everything was ready to make a new batch.

"Oh one other thing before we start. Have you ever made a meringue?" Tom asked as he preheated the oven, which you carefully supervised to make sure it was right.

"I mean, I've made some before. Why?"

"Well part of my project was talking about how egg proteins bind. They sound pretty easy. Just eggs and sugar, right?"

Your hand covered your eyes in disappointed surprise.

"What? No. Tom, meringues are like, notoriously one of the hardest things to get right. They land just before macarons, and meringue is one of the main parts of a macaron!"

"What are you talking about? How can something with two ingredients be that hard to make?" he tried to argue, but you weren't about to let him trick you into making something so difficult.

"Did none of your research explain how moisture, temperature changes, utensils used, and method of cooking affect the outcome."

"...Uh... no."

"Were you planning on using the Swiss, Italian, or French technique?"

".....I didn't know there was more than one."

"Well then you might go do a quick search to add to your presentation while I cover the cupcakes."

While he did that, you made up the batter and got the cupcakes in the oven (set at the right temperature for the right time), then got started making some frosting.

"Hey, y/n. Did you know you aren't supposed to make meringues in a plastic bowl?"

"Yep. Plastic can retain lipids which prevent proper binding. Same reason you can't whip the yolk."

"That's what this says! How did you know that?"

You shrugged.

"I like to bake. By the way, you better credit me as your pastry chef on the presentation."

"Will do."

He made some edits on the page and found a recipe claiming to be the easiest method, so you caved and agreed to help him make them when the cupcakes were done.

As you measured sugar and got the whisk attachment ready, you looked over and admired Tom as he meticulously separated the eggs.

You couldn't help but fall head over heels for him all over again seeing how he did each step carefully, all his focus on each little egg.

Sure, he was a little clumsy sometimes, but he was precious and cared about whatever he did.

It took what seemed like hours to get the egg whites whipped properly (and lots of arguing with Tom about what "stiff peaks" meant), but finally you had them in a piping bag and on a pan to bake.

You couldn't help but wait by the oven in anxious anticipation for the meringues to come out, even though they'd be in there for a while.

Tom sat right next to you on the (surprisingly) clean kitchen floor as you stared at the oven.

"Babe?" he asked softly, leaning into you.

You hummed a response, taking the opportunity to rest your head on his shoulder.

"Thank you for coming and helping me. I know you value your library time."

You smiled and sat back up, looking Tom in the eyes.

"You know, I wasn't really studying anyways. I was watching youtube videos with my headphones in because I didn't want to go home yet."

Tom had a mischievous grin and furrowed brow.

"So you just go there as an excuse to get away from me?!"

You laughed and knocked into him slightly.

"No! I just got done with my homework and wanted to hang around campus for a while... and I had a feeling you'd call eventually."

Tom gasped.

"You didn't trust me!?"

"Now that I can answer truthfully..." you started, causing him to pout. "I'm not saying I didn't trust you at all, it's just that I had never once heard of you baking and figured I would prepare myself accordingly."

"Does this mean that Alex knew too?"

"I can't speak on his behalf, but I'm glad it was just us anyways. I like getting to spend time with you like this." You paused to peck him on the lips. "Want me to read over your project? I know those spelling errors can slip by sometimes."

Tom grinned, wordlessly getting up and offering you a hand.

⚛︎

The expo was in full swing and you nervously stood on the other side of the room as your project to watch people walk by and observe your findings.

You had already given your presentation to the judging panel and now the expo was open to the public, so you tried to avoid stressing too much as you talked with some friends.

Suddenly a pair of warm arms came around your stomach and Tom's scent enveloped you.

"Hey baby, how ya feelin'?" he asked, resting his chin on your shoulder as your thumbs rubbed over his hands instinctively.

"You know me. A little nervous." You flipped in his arms to face him. "And what about you? The judges like our sweet treats?"

"They sure seemed too. Dr. Grand liked the meringues so much she asked for another."

You smiled.

"Well either way, I'm proud of us both."

"Thanks again for helping, I couldn't have done this without you. I made sure to emphasize how difficult meringue making is during my presentation thanks to you."

Finally your friends had enough of the cutesy bullshit and convinced you and Tom to rejoin the conversation, both of you with arms around each other as you conversed.

Time passed and eventually they gave prizes to the best projects of the expo. You knew you wouldn't win anything, there were some far better projects out there that included heavy research.

"And in first place, 'Science around us: the chemistry of baking' by Mr. Tom Holland! Congratulations! If all of our winners could come pick up their ribbons and get a photo for the newsletter, that would be great."

Tom stayed casually next to you, so you had to shake him and get his attention.

"Did you hear that Tom? You won!"

Tom blinked a few times, then gasped.

"I won!? I mean, we won!!?"

You rolled your eyes and pushed him forward.

"Go on, get your blue ribbon, baker boy."

He excitedly rushed up to the table where his prize awaited (tripping a few times, but you ignored that) and bounced on the balls of his feet as someone pinned the ribbon to his shirt.

You could see the sheer delight on his face as the winners took a group photo, and he practically skipped back to meet you.

You and your friends gave him congratulations as he happily looked down at the blue piece pinned to him.

He then unpinned it and tried to hand it to you.

"Now, don't congratulate me, y/n gets all the credit for making everything."

"No, no. It was your idea and you did the research. You deserve that more than anyone else. And plus, you were right. Baked goods did give you an edge over the competition."

"Well I say it was a science project for the ages!" he exclaimed, holding up the ribbon. You and your friends cheered to that.

"How 'bout we go celebrate your win over lunch, hm? The cupcake I had isn't holding me over and I'm starving."

"Sounds perfect, darling. Lead the way."

You happily headed off towards the nearest place on campus, completely oblivious to the fact that Tom had pinned his blue ribbon to your backpack.

He quickly made up time and slipped a hand into yours.

If nothing else, he was the boyfriend of the ages.

⚛︎

A/N: thanks to the anon who sent the request for this! I really enjoyed writing it! I think I could've improved some things but overall I'm pretty satisfied with it, and I hope you are too!

Permanent Tag List

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

@jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @justafangirlduh, @hollandswife

[ridiculousn3sswrites]

Lost in Translation

*Lafayette x Reader

*Request: “ @thefluffypancake asked: ‘Hey could you do a Lafayette x reader where she’s learning French and she try’s to ask him out on a date but accidentally asks something else. If not, it’s okay! Have a great day! 💞💞’”

*Warnings: Language, my own personal issues with French as a language. Let me know if I missed anything!

*A/N: This request is so old and I’m so sorry for that. Also I kinda changed the request a bit to reader saying she wants to kiss Laf because that word-for-word translation is off and you’ll see in the fic.

Tip Jar

**********

French was definitely a made up, ridiculous language. While - as your friends always felt the need to point out - every language was made up, French was even more made up than anything else. And yet here you were, trying to learn French on your own just so you could ask out the Frenchie in your friend group. It was a stupid idea in hindsight, but you thought it’d be cute to just surprise him by talking to him and then asking him out in French. Turns out it was a lot harder than you thought it would be. When your initial plan didn’t work out, you could always count on your friends to fuck up in a way that would make things somewhat better. 

Apparently, John never got the memo to not tell Alexander you’d asked him for help with French, and Alexander never got the memo that you learning French was supposed to be a secret. He definitely didn’t get the memo to never bring it up in front of Laf (even though you were pretty sure you’d told John you were trying to learn to impress Laf), so he did exactly that when all of you were hanging out. You had just got back to the table, coffee in hand when Alexander opened his stupid mouth. “Hey, how’s learning French going?”

“I mean, that’s one way to greet me I guess,” you said, trying to ignore the heat rushing to your face. Nope, the best course of action would just be to avoid the conversation. “Like, I haven’t even sat down yet.”

“Wait, you’re trying to learn French?” Laf asked, looking at you in excitement. You could already feel your resolve weakening.

“I mean, I’m trying but it’s not working out so great. Turns out that Duolingo owl only cares about Spanish,” you tried joking, taking the empty seat next to him.

“Dude, you asked me for help,” John spoke up, like that would make the situation any better. It wasn’t your fault that French was an utterly ridiculous language. What language even needs that many vowels? 

“Not my fault you’re a shit teacher,” you shot back, deadpan but completely joking. Even though John looked offended, you knew he wouldn’t hold it against you. After all, you were his ride back home. It took John a second to bounce back.

“Nah, you’re just a shit student.”

“I mean, my grades aren’t gonna argue with you there,” you laughed, the tension finally easing up some. You were still gonna strangle Alexander later, but for now things were fine. For all of five seconds.

“Why didn’t you ask me for help?” Laf asked, stealing your coffee and taking a sip. You were quick to take it back from him, trying to think of an excuse that wouldn’t give away your true intentions. However, now that you thought about it, just asking him to help you learn French probably would’ve been the easiest course of action. Have lessons with him a couple times a week for a few weeks, ask him how you ask someone out in French, and then bam! hit him with the question. Why do I always make things more difficult than they need to be?

“I… actually, I don’t know. Do you think you could help me out?” You tried to ignore the impressed look John was giving you. Sometimes you hated the fact he was your best friend.

“Yeah, of course! I’m offended you went to him first,” Lafayette said, stealing another drink of your coffee.

“Dude, buy your own!”

“But yours tastes so much better,” he teased.

“Gross, can you guys get a room or something?” Hercules spoke up. “Actually, don’t. I forgot I share a room with Laf for a second.”

“And you just made it worse than it had to be,” Angelica muttered, rolling her eyes.

“Anyways, when are you free? It’ll be fun helping you learn,” Laf said, turning his attention back to you. “Just send me your schedule and we can set it up!”

“Yeah, sure thing,” you agreed after a second, trying not to seem too eager. You and Laf rarely hung out on your own, normally having at least one of your other friends there with you. You couldn’t remember the last time the two of you had been alone, let alone you not being awkward when it was just the two of you. You texted him a screenshot of your schedule, your heart already racing at the thought of getting closer to him. You could handle hanging out with him with other people, but alone was a whole different story.

“Great! This’ll be fun!” His bright smile was enough to take your breath away, easing your worries somewhat.

“Yeah, I can’t wait.”

“Okay, so back to me,” John redirected the conversation, making a face at the look you were giving Laf. You couldn’t help but laugh at his obvious attempt, gladly letting him talk about whatever project he was working on now. No, you needed to figure out how you were going to handle this.

**********

Considering it was the middle of the semester, it was difficult to find a time to meet up with Laf that worked for the both of you. You both had papers, midterms, and group projects to work on, but you were finally able to find some time to have a little French session. The first few sessions were accidental, happening when Laf happened to find you in one of the 24-hour libraries, way too late for anything to actually stick in your mind. You found yourself only focusing on the way he spoke French, which was way too attractive to be fair.

After you had a few more impromptu sessions, you were finally able to actually set something up with Lafayette. For once, the both of you had a Friday afternoon free, so you’d be able to see him when you didn’t look absolutely destroyed by assignments and projects. It was still early on into your changed plan, but you figured now was as good a time as any to make your move. You managed to convince John to leave the apartment for a few hours at least, not that he made it easy on you. With his incessant teasing, sometimes you wondered why you chose him to be your best friend and roommate. 

Once John was finally out of the apartment, all you had to do was set things up. You set out some snacks, not really knowing how to host other than offering people food, had some study materials set out because the two of you were going to work on some other assignments before you started with the French lessons. Things didn’t have to be perfect, but you were determined to make it as close as possible. You had a note on your phone for what you wanted to ‘ask’ Laf about, and you were ready. The only thing you needed was for Laf to show up.

As you waited for Laf to make his appearance, you decided to get some reading done for class. Well, you tried to. You couldn’t help you constant fidgeting, switching between tabs as though there would be a different internet on each one, checking your phone and scrolling through Twitter - you really had no idea how you were supposed to pretend that you were going to study when he got here. You knew it would be super obvious that your mind wasn’t 100% on your work. Before you could think about it any longer, there was a knock on your door. Holding yourself back, you waited a minute before getting up to answer it.

“Hey,” you said with a smile, acting like you hadn’t just been fretting over how you were going to get through this.

“Hey! You ready to study?” Laf asked, tugging on his backpack strap as if to prove he brought his work with him.

“Yeah! I’m set up at the table if you wanna just head over there.” You silently cursed how non-human that sounded. As soon as the two of you sat down, though, things got easier. Even as the two of you worked, you kept a small conversation going, making jokes about things you’d just read or were working on, telling stories about class. For the first time in a while, things were going just like they were when the two of you hung out with the group. Lafayette made it really easy for you to like him.

After a couple hours of the two of you working on your own things, Lafayette closed his laptop, getting your full attention. Laf leaned forward like he was about to let you in on some giant secret. “Are you ready to learn some French now?”

“Yeah, I wanna know what you, Alex, and John are saying whenever you go into French,” you teased.

“Non, that’s a secret,” Lafayette laughed, looking away. “Alright, let’s start.”

The session started out much like your impromptu sessions: Lafayette would say a common word or phrase in French, he’d ask you what you thought it meant, he’d tell you what it actually meant, and then you’d repeat it to him. He’d fix any mispronunciations, and you’d keep going until you got it right. This would go on for as many phrases or whatever until one of you decided to take a break. It was a nice little process and was definitely helping things stick in your mind more than when you tried learning on your own or with John.

You were the first one to call for a break, your heart pounding as you tried to figure out how you were going to do this. You wanted to ask him out soon, not willing to let yourself chicken out at the last second, especially since you knew John would talk so much shit if he found out you kicked him out and didn’t even ask Laf out. As you were in the kitchen, filling up your water bottle as an excuse, you tried to calm yourself. The worst that could happen would be things getting weird between the two of you, the best was the two of you would get together, so that meant reality would be somewhere in the middle. You took a deep breath before making your way back to the table.

“Ready to start again?” Laf asked, looking up from his phone.

“Yeah, I actually had something I wanted to ask you.” You took your seat next to him, grabbing your phone to double check what you had translated earlier.

“Go ahead.”

“So, uh,” you paused for a second, gathering the last bit of courage you needed. “Right, uh, what does je veux te baiser mean? Because, uh, je veux te baiser.”

Immediately, Lafayette looked away, drinking his water so he didn’t have to answer you. You could just tell something was wrong and felt your face heat up as you just looked down at your hands. When Lafayette finally spoke, you felt your heart drop. “I… I don’t think you know what you just said.”

You looked up, eyes wide. You knew French was tricky, but there was no way you messed up something that simple, right? You tried not to appear too flustered, but you knew it was a losing battle. “Wait, what did I say then?”

“I think I know what you were trying to say, but you didn’t say it.”

“So what did I say?”

“Okay, so direct translation was that, but what you said was, uh, you uh wanttofuckme,” he rushed out the last part, and it took you a second to process what he said. If you thought your face couldn’t get any hotter, you were wrong. 

“Jesus Christ, I am so sorry. I mean I really like you but I didn’t mean to say that and I’m so sorry, that probably made you really uncomfortable and I understand if you want to leave and-” You were cut off by his lips on yours. You quickly melted into the kiss, even though you still weren’t exactly sure what was going on.

“Je veux t’embrasser,” Lafayette said as he broke the kiss.

“What?”

“Je veux t’embrasser. That’s how you say I want to kiss you,” he explained.

“Je veux t’embrasser,” you repeated with a small smile.

“Good.” You were rewarded with another soft kiss. Maybe French wasn’t so ridiculous…

No, it definitely was. 

**********

Permanent Tag List: @treatallwithkindness, @laic2299, @delaber

[hillnerd]

WAKING UP- CHAPTER 5

Rating M      A03   ff.net   [ Previous Chapter]  [start at the beginning] 

For thanks yous, chapter warnings and ‘what happened last chapter’ scroll to the end of this chapter :)

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CHAPTER 5 - QUEEN OF CLUBS

Ginny didn’t have a very large room, and it felt even smaller as Hermione tried to ready herself to go to a club, of all places. She wasn’t the club ‘type.’ She couldn’t say for sure, as she’d never been to one, but what little familiarity she had made it sound awful. Loud noises, skimpily dressed, dancing as if she hadn’t a care in the world seemed… exhausting. And pointless. And dangerous! Fleur, Angelina and Ginny were trying on a myriad of dresses and asking for the group's approval. While the wireless played raucous tunes and the other girls giggled, Hermione spent her time packing and repacking her beaded bag. 

The extension charm was still firmly in place. She hadn’t figured out a way to keep things more organized within it, though, so the canned goods she’d placed there kept falling over. She wasn’t going to forget food again, that she knew. She hadn’t located a new tent yet, but she needed to prioritize that soon. She had just finished repacking some of her clothes when she heard Ginny ask, “What are you doing?”

Hermione snapped the bag shut, not knowing how to explain her preparations in any way that made her seem of sound mind. 

“Just wasn’t sure what to wear…”  It wasn’t a complete lie. She wasn’t sure what fit her anymore. 

“Well, you can never go wrong with a little black dress,” said Ginny pointing to a thin-strapped sundress Hermione hadn’t had reason to wear in well over a year. 

She nodded and went to a corner, turning her front away from them as she changed into the dress. As she wiggled her jeans out from under the dress she noticed the other girls showed no similar discretion, happily throwing dresses off in the middle of the room. 

Hermione gave a speculative look in the mirror, tugging a bit at the neckline of her sundress. It fit differently than before, bagging around her waist and chest in an unflattering way, and the straps would not stay in place. 

“I can do alterations to dresses if anyone needs them,” said Fleur, grabbing a book from within her bag, discreetly catching Hermione’s eye. Arachne Salavarrieta’s Little Book of Sewing had a few good spells for altering clothing on the fly. All four of them looked over the text for just the right spells to take in, let out, and shorten dresses. 

Ginny, still underage and unable to do magic, begged them “you’ve got to shorten my skirt once we’re there!”

“Why not have us do it now?” Angelina asked, propping up a magically enlarged hand mirror on the roll top desk.

“I have four older brothers downstairs,” Ginny said with a sour look.

“Why should that matter?”

“One of those gits will take the piss in front of Mum if I look remotely sexy. That is, if Mum doesn’t already notice all on her own. I don’t know! Either way, just help me with the hem at the club, please? I don’t want to be the only one there looking frumpy!”

“From-py?” Fleur asked.

“Unfashionable, old-fashioned, overly modest and drab,” Hermione provided, fairly certain the term had been liberally applied to herself over the years.

“You look far from from-py, but we will help with the skirt,” Fleur assured Ginny. 

“And if any brother gives you shit at the club, we’ll hex them for good measure too,” Angelina added, bringing out a pair of curling tongs and prompting Ginny to sit in front of her.

Hermione pulled at her dress some more, not sure how much to alter it, and not sure if she wanted to bother. A pernicious guilt gnawed at her as she pulled the dress taut to her body. She should be doing something that mattered, not fretting over a dress. She should be in Australia. She hadn’t earned a rest, let alone a ‘fun time out.’ She’d taken no steps forward. She’d not found her parents’  location, she’d not earned money, she’d not even checked to see if her old childhood home was still standing.

“Hermione, is everything alright?” Fleur quietly asked, coming to stand beside her at the long mirror.

Hermione forced a smile onto her face.

“Oh you know me… I’m never sure what to do with fashion and all that. I’m more at ease in a library.”

Fleur gave her a searching look she’d seen before at Shell Cottage. It was a look that sought truth behind idle chit chat. It brought a sisterly sort of comfort that Hermione had not thought Fleur capable of a year ago. She had found the French woman to be condescending and too effortlessly beautiful to warrant any attempt at friendship. The war had given her an appreciation for Fleur, though. They were something akin to friends now.

“I just…” Hermione said in a low voice only Fleur could hear as the wireless yowled another rock anthem. “This feels so silly when there’s so much to do.”

“We’ve earned a bit of silly, do you not think so?”

“You all might have…”

“Hermione,” she said, putting a tentative hand around her shoulder. “You ‘ave done more than most anyone.”

“Since The Battle I’ve done nothing! Everyone is helping rebuild and all I’ve done is sleep! And my parents are still in Australia, and I’ve…I’ve done nothing to get them back.”

“Ron told us of your parents and the memories… Will you be needing any help?”

“No,” Hermione quickly insisted. “No. I just need to make a plan and get them back here. Once I have a plan then it will all be alright.”

“You are meaning to bring them back here in England… To the home you lived in before?” 

Hermione nodded, and saw a look of concern wrinkle Fleur’s otherwise flawless brow. 

“Hermione… Have you been to your home since the war ended?”

Hermione shook her head. “I’m planning on checking on it soon.”

“This is why I asked. You can not do that alone. Many Muggleborn homes were cursed after the war. Some are no longer standing,” said Fleur, her voice ringing with intensity despite the lyric tone.

Hermione was aware that many a Muggleborn home had been razed to the ground, but refused to believe the same could have happened to her childhood home. 

“Even the Burrow needed much curse breaking,” she continued. “We do not know each other well, but I am happy to help you with this.”

“Oh you don’t have to!” Hermione said with a shake of her head.

“Oh poppyrot!” Fleur said with a dismissive wave of her hand. Hermione let out a long breath, her gratitude forcing her to not correct Fleur to the word ‘poppycock.’ “It is my pleasure!” 

“You two alright?” asked Ginny giving the two a sidelong look as Angelina continued to curl her hair.

“We are,” Fleur said, looking to Hermione who confirmed this with a head nod. “Just helping out with fashion. It is a ritual we women do. The girls gather and dress and help one another to look more beautiful, while the men do nothing.”

“Maybe they shower,” Angelina added with a laugh, “but probably not. They never put in half the effort we do!”

“You see? It is the way of it,” Fleur said, giving Hermione a small squeeze and a meaningful look. “I can help whenever you like.”

“Thank you, Fleur…” she said with equal import. When the other girls looked at her with curiosity she continued, “I don’t have any of my usual things like makeup or hair products.”

“I have a ton of stuff in my bag,” Angelina offered. 

“As do I. We girls help one another,” Fleur said, grabbing a comb and some bottles of French products Hermione didn’t recognize. She continued with the faintest whisper, “You can send a message or Patronus to me when you are ready to enter your old home.”

Words failing her, Hermione put a hand on Fleur’s and gave it a small squeeze. Fleur said nothing, but the warm smile she sent in the mirror reassured her that the French woman completely understood.

After an hour of sewing alterations, primping, squealing, and many changes of clothes by each of the ladies, they decided they were almost ready enough to leave. 

“Oh! Jewelry! I forgot about that,” Ginny moaned, looking through her small box of earrings. 

Angelina and Fleur were eager to help her, but Hermione wasn’t sure she could take another debate about fashion. She was grateful for the silly hour she’d gotten to spend with them, though. Despite her hair still being a bit wild and curly, Hermione had to admit she liked how she looked in the mirror. The black sundress fit her perfectly now. She almost looked like she had a figure again. Between the dress and the makeup, and a bit of product from Angelina to keep her hair from frizzing, she looked almost pretty. She felt a touch of excitement flurry in her stomach at the thought of looking nice in front of Ron. It almost made her forget how nervous she was to be out of the safety of the Burrow. She gripped her beaded bag close to her side.

“I’m going to wait with the boys, if that’s alright.”

The girls waved her off as they held different earrings beside Ginny’s face. 

As Hermione stepped into the hallways she immediately ran into a thin, though sturdy, body and let out a small exclamation of alarm. She quickly muffled her sound when she saw it was only Harry.

“Are you all ready to go then?” he asked, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of Ginny behind the closing door.

“We’re almost all ready,” she said with a fond smile. “You know girls, it takes them forever.”

“You’re a girl too, according to Ron at least,” said Harry, giving her a wry grin. Harry was looking rather sharp in Muggle clothes that actually fit, and his hair was looking mysteriously untidy. 

“Did you do something to your hair?”

“What?” he asked, putting a hand to the back of his hair and patting at it. “It doesn’t look bad, does it?”

“No,” she laughed, seeing the panic in his eyes. “Just not as wild as usual.”

“Yeah, well it took like four spells and I think they’re already wearing off.”

She studied his hair and could see one by one little hairs slowly moving into disarray, almost like someone had rubbed an invisible balloon against it. 

“You’re trying to look extra nice for Ginny,” she teased.   He frowned, but a blush began to form around his jaw. “Yeah, well, we’ve never gotten to properly go someplace together, have we? You did the same for Ron, right?”

He had her there. 

“Speaking of, where is he?”

“Downstairs, I think,” he said, hand going to his hair again. “Is it looking bad again?”

“It’s looking more like it usually does, if that’s what you mean.” His face scrunched in disapproval. “Really, it looks fine. Your hair fits you best when you do nothing to it. You look perfectly nice.”

“You too,” he said with a glance at her, before heading towards the bathroom. “Ok, I’m going to try to spell this one more time.”

She knew it was a lost cause, but didn’t have the heart to tell him as he eagerly tried to preen. 

As she reached the bottom steps of the stairs, she could hear the low rumble of men’s voices.

“They’re taking ages,” Charlie sighed. “I don’t see why it takes them so long.”

“Women wear more?” said George. 

“Harry’s hair has taken almost as long,” Lee said with a snort.

Hermione looked around the corner and saw the men all sprawled around the room, shoes up on tables and couch arms in a way they’d never dare if Mrs Weasley were in the room.

While everyone lightheartedly bantered with one another, in the corner sat Ron. His brow was creased as he silently played chess with Lee. He looked haggard, and for the eleventh time that evening, Hermione wished they weren’t going out. She’d much rather spend the evening wrapped in Ron’s arms, as she had that afternoon. 

Her nerves had frayed at the thought of sleeping beside him, worried he would catch her in a nightmare. Silencing spell in place, she had feigned grumpy tiredness when he asked her questions. There had been no need to worry, though. Cuddled up to him she fell asleep as surely as one did on sleeping draughts, and somehow her nightmares were kept entirely at bay. It was the best sleep she’d had in months. The only thing that could have improved it was waking up beside Ron. He’d been gone when she’d woken, with no one knowing where he was. He’d come back from the village looking worn out giving excuses of ‘getting supplies’ which didn’t hold up to real scrutiny, when she thought of the timeline he gave. Ron Weasley was up to something, she just didn’t know what.

As if her thoughts drew him to her, Ron’s eyes rose and met hers.

The furrow in his brow smoothed, his scowling expression softened, and a boyish smile of his tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

“Who’s winning?” she asked, approaching the chess board.

“Ron was, but I think my luck’s about to change,” said Lee, a few of the men joining him in laughter and elbowing Ron, seeing his rather besotted look. Usually he’d turn beet red and curse at them, but his face remained mostly impassive as he met her eyes and smiled. The only sign of his discomfort was his ears going a tiny bit flush.

“Check mate,” said Ron, moving his bishop across the board, and rising from his seat.

“No it’s not, is it?” Lee asked, looking at the board. “Damn!”

Ron gave the lot a two fingered salute and led her from the living room to the kitchen, where his mother was doing some tidying and listening to the radio.

“I wasn’t sure about the dress,” she mumbled. Ron’s eyes traveled down her and she suppressed the urge to readjust her neckline, though she wasn’t sure in what direction.

“Well you look amazing in it,” he said, looking her in the eye and making her stomach do a tsukahara flip. 

“Thank you,” she managed. A pleasurable rush of nerves ran up her spine. Despite looking very tired, he looked handsome. He was wearing an untucked dress shirt she’d not seen before, with the sleeves rolled up his arms in a way that made the nerves in her spine turn to jolts. Given the darker color scheme of it, she assumed it was a hand-me-down from Bill. She quickly realized all of him was looking rather polished, with the exception of his beat up boots. She wasn’t sure what to say to him. He was so sensitive about clothes, and the last thing she wanted was to cause additional stress on him, but she also knew he was a bit insecure and it might be nice to compliment his appearance.

“So how long until the rest of the girls are ready?” he asked. 

Well there went that opportunity.

“Soon, I think. They just had to pick out earrings for Ginny,” she said looking up into face. His eyes looked so weary. “Are you doing well?”

“Course,” he grunted, immediately turning from her. “Mum, do you need help with that?”

Mrs Weasley turned from the dishes and assured him she didn’t. Despite the assurance, he started putting dishes in the cabinets. He didn’t spare her another look, not when the rest of the girls came down the stairs some ten minutes later, and not when they gathered on the edge of the property.

“Before we go,” George announced, beginning to hand each of them a playing card, “here is a Muggle I.D. for each of you.”

“Why do we need an I.D?” Ginny asked, inspecting the playing card in the waning light of the sunset.

“Because they check to see if you’re old enough to drink at clubs and such and can’t just put up an age line,” answered Bill.

“Why didn’t you transfigure these already?” asked Hermione, looking at her playing card, the Queen of Clubs.

“I’d have to know what Muggle I.D.s look like to do that. This just has a spell to register as an I.D. to Muggles. Pretty clever, if I do say so,” George said, smiling to them all as he finished handing out the cards. “Getting the dates right was tricky. Just make sure you say your birthday was in 79 or earlier. The card will match up with whatever date you say.”

“Where are we apparating to, George?” asked Angelina.

“My hotel room’ll do,” he answered.

Hermione felt Ron unexpectedly stiffen beside her. 

“Everyone but Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Fleur knows where to go. So you all can pair up and side-along there. Here, Gin, come with me,” said George, waving Ginny over.

Ron made as if to grab Ginny back, but George had quickly disappeared with her. One by one they all disapparated, leaving her and a distracted Ron staring at the space George had just occupied.

Ron licked his dry lips and scrunched his brow in determination. “Right… Okay then, I guess we better go.”

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” she said, gently putting her hand in his. “We could just stay in, you and me.”

His shoulders slumped. “Merlin, I wish I could take you up on that.”

“Why don’t you?” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’ve been dreading going out.”

“You too?”  “I packed and repacked my bag, just in case,” she said, giving the beaded bag a small shake that made its contents give a crash. “Damn. That’s probably the books again. I really need to find a way to make things stay in place!” 

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” he said with a fond look on his face. “But we should go. It’ll be good to get out, plus with G— nevermind.”

“Plus what?”

“Look, I really want to tell you, but I’m just not up for it all right now.” Her face must have given away how frustrating she found that. “I will, I swear I will! Just not tonight. Let’s just— let’s just pretend we’re okay and go out and try to enjoy ourselves.”

It went against every instinct in her body to agree to wait to know something, but she nodded her acquiescence.   His large hand moved to her back and the tight feeling of being compressed overtook her as he Apparated them to George’s hotel room.

In moments they reached their destination and the feeling of her breath being stolen didn’t stop, for Ron’s fingers grazed her side as he took a pace back from her. 

When they arrived they received a good amount of teasing for taking their time to arrive, heavily implying the two had been snogging. Neither teen corrected them. As everyone made small talk, Ron was completely silent and looked about the room with seeming purpose. He had shown immense concern about George right before they left, had that intense conversation with him earlier, and she had to admit George smelt like a bar when he arrived and looked like he might have been sleeping on the floor of one. She had no idea what Ron was looking for, except perhaps empty bottles. The room was sparse, and only a tray of food, and a small bag in the corner showing any signs someone had been living there. 

No one seemed to notice his actions except George who fixed him with a glare when no one was looking. Ron looked far from sheepish, and instead stood tall and locked eyes with his brother.

“Let’s get going. It’s just a few streets over,” George announced to the room, looking away from Ron.

Nerves shook Hermione as they travelled down the grimy London street. It did not look much different from Tottenham Court Road. The last time she had been near this part of London they’d ducked into a grotty cafe and been cornered by a pair of Death Eaters.

At least then it had been a less obtrusive group, with only her, Ron and Harry. Now they were a large boisterous group with so many redheads they stood out like a flock of goldfinches. Most of them were loudly talking or laughing, and many a passerby smirked at the boisterous group. If someone wanted to target them, they’d be all too easy to spot. She gripped her beaded bag so harshly one of her nails chipped. 

Thankfully George was quite correct about the distance being short. In minutes they arrived at a large dark building with music dimly pulsing through its walls and a line to get in. 

A large barrel-chested man with the thickest neck Hermione had ever seen stood at the door. The eldest Weasleys along with Lee and Angelina were let through with barely a glance at their playing cards, but as soon as he spotted the younger members of the group the bouncer began to look like an agitated bulldog. 

He eyed Ron and Hermione’s cards closely, but gave a much more scrutinizing look towards Ginny and Harry as they handed their playing cards to him. He held a small flashlight to the Jack of Spades and Queen of Spades, and even ran a fingernail along the edge. 

“What’s your birthday?”

“1979!” Harry offered, before wincing at his volume. Ron let out a chuckle, while Ginny rolled her eyes. The man’s glare intensified. “Er… July 31st 1979, that is.”

“Hmm… And you?” growled the Bouncer, sourly looking to Ginny.

“Tonight’s my birthday, actually!” she said with a winning smile. Hermione nearly protested, but Ron gave a small shake of his head. 

“Ah, happy birthday!” said the man nodding at the card before handing it back to her, looking much less ornery. “Let Teresa know about it, and they’ll do ya something special.”

“Your birthday, huh?” Harry asked Ginny as soon as they were through the door.

“Much easier to have a good time and get some free drinks that way, isn’t it?” she said, giving a conspiratorial grin he shared.

“But it’s not your birthday!” Hermione protested, irritation prickling down her neck.

“I’m not eighteen either,” Ginny breezily pointed out. 

“Well you’re lucky the card was able to adapt to that when you hadn’t said an actual date,” Hermione persisted. She clutched her beaded bag closer to her chest. “We don’t want to stand out.”

“Why not? It’s a Muggle club. It should be fun.”

“Well, it might be a Muggle club, but that doesn’t mean it’s completely safe.”

“You worry too much,” she said in an infuriatingly calm and understanding voice.

“No! We have to make sure we stay low profile and don’t say anything wrong, because all it takes is one wrong word and then everything falls apart!”

Harry looked to the ground, his eyebrows knitting together. He had to be thinking of the Taboo and the Snatchers as well.

“It’s just a bit of fun, Hermione. We’ll be okay,” said Ginny with a smile, looking around to spot the rest of their group, taking Harry by the hand towards a corner table. “Ah there they are!”

Hermione had never felt more like shaking her friend. Didn’t she understand how dire things were? They’d met Death Eaters at a Muggle cafe in London last August, and Fenrir and those Snatchers in the woods. All it took was one small mistake and then hell would rain down on them; they could end up beaten or cursed or stabbed in the chest.   “Hermione…” she heard Ron’s voice quiet and low in her ear. “There isn’t a Taboo anymore…”

“You don’t know that!” she almost shouted at him, painfully gripping her beaded bag. 

One of his large hands gently started unwinding her fingers from the bag, before taking it from her and putting it in his jacket pocket. He started massaging her fingers. Under the pink and orange lights she could just make out the imprint the bag had left on her hands.

“I can feel the Taboo’s broken, and I bet you can too if you concentrate on it,” he said, continuing to work her hands until they became limp in his. “But if you want to leave and go back to the Burrow, we can right now.”

His quiet earnest words brought her eyes up to his. He saw right through her. He didn’t give her empty platitudes. He gave her a common sense answer to why things would be different, and an out if she was uncomfortable. She felt the overwhelming need to kiss him, and despite the crowd she decided to indulge herself. She stood on her tiptoes, and he took her lead leaning down to brush his lips against hers, hands still holding hers. How had they had so many years together without kissing? 

For years she’d had to sit near him, with careful scrutinization over every action and inch between them. Was sitting too close to her friend? Would her leg pressing to his be too much? Would he notice how her eyes were fixated on his mouth a good three minutes as he grinned and told her about the mad thing he’d seen earlier that day? Did his hand around her shoulder linger longer than a friend’s hand would? When he’d tiredly leaned his head into her, had it meant something to him?

Now she could kiss him whenever she liked, and melt into his strong form, and let her hands be caressed, and get the anticipation of more ring through her body, and know it might be fulfilled later. The only thing she struggled to hold back was blurting out how very much she loved everything about him.

“Alright?” he asked as their lips parted. 

She nodded, biting her bottom lip to keep herself from saying ‘I love you and actually yes I’d like to go home, but only because I want to snog you until both of us can barely breathe.’

“Ready to have ‘a bit of fun?’”

“I think I can manage,” she said with a smile. As long as he was by her side something akin to enjoyment of the evening could happen.

They went to a back table that didn’t nearly have enough seating for them all. This didn’t seem to matter as half of them strategically placed their jackets and purses so strangers would know it was occupied, while the others went to the bar to get drinks for everyone. Their table butted nearly up to the bar, and Ron perched on one of its stools. 

“Do you want something to drink?” Hermione asked, looking at a menu. 

He shook his head. “Someone needs to stay sober. Might as well be me.” He took the menu from her and eagerly pointed to it. “But I could do with these fried cheese things!”

She got in line, ready to order and pay when George stepped in. “Put your cash away. You’re not buying a thing, tonight! We’re here to celebrate you three, after all!”

Grateful not to have to spend the meager amount of cash she had, she put in her order for Ron’s food, and her wine. She’d never drunk much in her life, but she experienced the occasional wine with her parents.

She had worried the evening would be tedious, but seeing everyone looking giddy, toasting one another, and even dancing made her rethink the evening. 

Ron had kept a close eye on George, but his brother was looking at ease and jubilant surrounded by family and friends. Hermione enjoyed the warming tang of red wine as they chatted away and seemed more relaxed than they’d been in years. The wine soothed her nerves as well.

“Was your skirt that short when we left?” George asked Ginny after she did a twirl to the music that accidentally flashed a cheek of her knickers.

“Yes it was,” she coolly answered. “And even if it wasn’t, there’s nothing you’re going to do about it, is there?” 

Harry, already looking sloshed, looked down at Ginny’s legs, his mouth slightly open.

Ron gave a chuckle before flicking his friend’s ear. 

“Righ’, sorry,” Harry said with a nod. Despite all the spells he’d done on his hair, it had reverted to its normal disheveled state.

“Let’s dance!” Ginny said, grabbing Harry’s hand. If it weren’t for the few rounds of shots, Hermione didn’t think they’d be able to get him on to the dance floor, but in his current state he happily followed his girlfriend to the bright lights and thumping music. This seemed an adorable prospect until they actually saw him dance.

“Oh shit… Someone needs to hit him with a stunner or something,” Ron laughed, as Hermione leaned back into him. 

Harry had no sense of rhythm at all, and his stiff-armed movements made many people wince. Ginny didn’t seem to care, and was happily dancing beside him. Her effervescence seemed to drown out Harry’s sad attempts at movement.

Ron guffawed, and shook his head in amusement. Seated on a bar stool, he was only a half a foot taller than Hermione, which made for much more convenient kisses with no tiptoes needed. She had finished her second glass of wine and had a hot pleasant sensation buzzing through her. She put her head back and closed her eyes, feeling the vibration of his deep laugh and the music thrumming. 

“Hmm… Y’should dance with me,” she murmured, though she made no move towards the dance floor. Instead she rubbed her hands down his legs that were on either side of her. The lights on the dancefloor shifted to green for a moment, and the cozy peace felt strangled. She glanced up to Ron, and thought of the one thing that really made her feel nothing but warmth. “You should snog me.”

He chuckled a bit, and she felt the back of his fingers graze her cheek. 

“Dance or snog— Whichever you want,” he replied in her ear. “Though it seems you’re going a bit legless for dancing.”

“I am not!” she protested, pushing herself off of him and nearly stumbling. She stood very tall and made firm eye contact. “I am far from inebriated and do not like the implication that I am inebredated!”

“You mean inebriated?”

“That’s what I just said!” she said, grabbing his hand. “C’mon, let’s dance!”

He gave a shake of his head, but followed her onto the dance floor, where most of their group were dancing. Despite the yellow and orange lights, they were a vibrant group that stood out. Hermione couldn’t think why she’d been worried about it, though! And Ron was actually a very good dancer. She’d discovered this at Bill and Fleur’s wedding, and was happy nothing had changed. He had a grand sense of rhythm and the way he held her close and moved about with her made her feel like one of those ladies from an old musical. Roger Gingers? No, that wasn’t it… 

“You make me feel like a lady!” she shouted over the music. “I mean, a lady from a musical that dances and such! Y’know? Like with Astaire and all those old ones in the movies?” 

Ron gave a nod, and she nodded along happy he knew the reference. Yes! He and she were meant for one another. He knew what she meant when she said things. Oh no, that couldn’t be right. Fred Astaire was a Muggle! There was no way he knew that reference!

“Wait! You don’t know who Astaire is!”

“Nope,” he replied, an amused grin making his dimple appear. 

“Then why did you nod along?”

“You’re supposed to smile and nod at drunk people and irate girlfriends— and you’re the best of both!”

She laughed as he spun her around. She could do this forever! Just spin and spin, his hands on her, the bright lights bringing out odd colors in his hair, his warm smile, the invigorating feeling of just being alive...

“You dance as well as you snog!” she yelled, right as the song stopped, making many on the dance floor snigger, but she didn’t care. It was true. And he was hers, not anyone else's, and she got to snog him whenever she wanted. “Let’s get another drink!”

She bounded to the bar, and added another wine to the tab George had started. 

“I think you might’ve had enough,” said Ron, sidling up beside her.

“Then you drink it!” she said, holding up the wine before taking a sip. He gently took the wine glass from her, and put it on the bar.

“Ever since I drank that poisoned mead, I’m not much for drinks from people I don’t know.”

“I just drank from it, though, so you know it’s safe,” she said, holding her hair up and away from her too hot neck. 

“And I need to be sober so someone can get us all home at the end of the evening.”

That was a very good point. “You should snog me in the club’s bathroom,” she countered. 

“That is very very tempting,” he said leaning in and giving her a peck on the nose. “When you aren’t sloshing about I might take you up on that.”

“M’not!” she said, grabbing her wine glass. 

“Another round?” George asked, holding out a tray of shots. “For the trio! And the birthday girl!”

“Oh yes, let’s drink to my birthday!” Ginny crowed, grabbing what was at least her shot glass. There was a quick clearing of a throat from behind her from Bill. “Oh come oooon! Can’t I have some fun?”

“You can have plenty of fun. Just might want to be able to remember it tomorrow.”

“Don’t be mummish!” she replied, downing her drink.

Harry tittered at this, and she put a hand over his shot glass before he could get it to his lips. “You might want to hold back.”

“Mummish,” Harry laughed, with a shake of his shaggy head. 

“How much has he had?” Charlie asked.

“A couple of shots and a beer,” said Lee with a shake of his head. “Complete and utter lightweight.”

“I want another shot,” Harry protested.

“Sorry, sloppy, leave this to the professionals,” George said, downing it before Harry could stop him. Hermione caught a grim look pass between Ron and Bill, but dismissed it as a good song came on and the other girls dragged them all onto the dance floor.

The party continued until Ron insisted they take a water break. Hermione slide into the booth next to him, wobbling only slightly, yet she gladly snuggled into him.

There was a gauzy blur to everything, with only the center of her vision having much clarity. It was nice. Her blurred cameo-vision settled on Ron. He was very handsome. And tall! 

She told him so.

“Thanks,” he said, not seeming to take her seriously.

“I mean it, though! You’re almost pretty,” she said with a firm nod. “I’ve always thought so. You have the bluest eyes… They’re so… Blue! And I love your hands. They feel nice too.”

“Uh huh…” he said with a smile. “I think we best get you home soon… Here, have some water.”

“I don’t want water, I want more wine,” she said, taking the water and drinking it. “But I do mean it. You’re very good looking. And you have a cute bum! I haven’t told you that, but I should. I should tell you these things! I mean to, but I wait too long, and then I can’t tell you. Like with your clothes tonight! You look extra dishy and I can’t tell you because I don’t want you to think I’m not nice about clothes to you, ya know?”

“Well in that case, thank you?” he said, pouring her some more water that she angrily sipped at. 

He’d taken off his jacket and rolled his sleeves up again at one point. She trailed a finger along a brain-scar on his forearm.  She liked that. There was something about it that made her squirm in a good way.

“I like your arms…  But to my point!!” she said, sitting up straight and poking him in the chest. “There’so much I can’t tell you! I’m the best secret keeper in the world. It’s like… It’s like my words are Fidelius charmed! And I don’t know how to tell you the secret! I want to, of course, but if I did and you didn’t say you love me back then I’d be so upset, and so I don’t say anything!”

She closed her eyes and leaned into his chest.

“You make it hard to not say things when you’re so pretty and good. You’re so good, Ron Weasley. I want to… I want to bottle you up and marry you and be the only one to touch your bum.”

His chuckle pleasantly hummed through her. He braced her against him a bit then kissed her forehead. 

“I want that too,” he said, almost so quietly it couldn’t be heard over the music. She felt him stir beneath her head and let out a huff. “What?”

She cracked open an eye to see Harry gormlessly staring at them.

“I’m so glad you didn’t die. You’re like… the most important people in my life and I love you both so much,” said Harry, pointing to somewhere a foot or so to the left of them.

“No more alcohol for you, Harry,” said Ron, making Hermione sit up. 

“I mean it!” Harry belligerently stated. 

“We love you too, Harry,” said Hermione, putting a hand on him. “You’re like a brother to me! If I had brothers. I don’t. But if I did, you’d be my little brother.”

“You’re like an older sister that I love like a sister. And we’re both not dead,” Harry said with a nod. 

“Merlin’s balls. We’ve got to get out of here,” Ron muttered, grabbing a glass of water and thrusting it into Harry’s hand. “Chug that and try not to be such a melancholy arsewipe, yeah?”

“I can’t help it. I had a bad childhood until I met you and Hagrid…” Harry said, looking so sad Hermione wanted to cry. 

“You did! Ron, he DID have a bad childhood!”

“Yep, I’m aware,” said Ron with a sigh getting up. “Harry, where’d you put your glasses and jacket?”

He gave a sad shrug. “I don’t have a family. I don’t even have glasses now.”

Hermione nodded. “He can’t SEE, Ron.”

“I’m legally blind.”

“He’s blind, Ron!”

“Oh my GOD! I’m going to find the glasses!” Ron exploded, a hand going to his hair. “I’m getting bloody tired of dealing with drunks, you know that?”

“But he’s blind, Ron.”

With a wild gesture of frustration he started looking around the various points in the bar Harry had been to. Harry murmured about a lot of sad things, and Hermione told him about Ron’s bum which made him snigger. She leaned her head against the back of the booth, closing her eyes for just a moment. 

She heard Charlie, Bill and Fleur bowed out for the evening, citing business they had to do the next day. Bill pulled Ron aside for a moment. She could just make out the low voiced words of ‘George,’ ‘rest’ and ‘bail’ beside her. She cracked open an eye and saw them both glancing at George, who was still bouncing on the dance floor with Lee and Angelina. Hermione listened to hear more, but the thrum of music drowned them out. 

Hermione woke up an indeterminate amount of time later lying in their booth, head curled up on a conjured pillow and Ron’s large jacket draped over her.

She blearily rose and blinked to see Harry finish a shot beside her.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be drinking anymore,” she managed to rasp even though her tongue stuck to the top of her mouth. She smacked her lips and looked for some water. The nearest pitcher seemed miles away even though it was a mere few feet.

“Y’were sleeping in the booth and there’s was noone to stop me,” said Harry with a triumphant smile that morphed into an unpleasant low belch.

“How long have I been asleep?” Her head was aching. She should have drunk more water.

“Mmm… An hour or so?”

“Where’s Ron?”

“He tucked you in,” Harry answered. She warmed at the thought of giant Ron hunching over to tenderly make her comfortable.

 Harry put his chin on his hand and stared at her. “He fancies you.”

“Well I quite fancy him as well.”

“You fancy him,” he said with a sloppy dismissive hand, “but not like he does you. He’s all…” A series of soft pats rained down on her head. “And you’re all…” He pointed a finger at her face, nearly poking her in the eye. “Ya know?”

“Oh well that makes sense,” she humored him. “Where are your glasses? Didn’t Ron go to fetch them ages ago?”

“Search me…” he said, putting his head on the table before slurring. “I need a nap…”

Ginny, Lee and Angelina came panting off the dancefloor.

“Where’s George?” asked Angelina, gulping down some water and making a loud noise of satisfaction when she’d finished.

“Wasn’t he with you?”

No one knew where George or Ron were. They were about to start searching when there was the sound of a mic turning on, and the DJ announced, “and now one of our guests wants to make an announcement.” 

There was a horrid feedback noise and a scuffle, but then a familiar voice began to ring through the crowd.

“Hello everyone!” said George into the mic. 

“Oh God, who let him have a microphone?” said Angelina, shaking her head.

“I’m George and I’m here to celebrate my little sister’s birthday! So everyone, say cheers to her!”

Many of the crowd raised their glasses and Ginny was happy to wave to them and give a small bow. Hermione spotted that she was wearing Harry’s glasses on top of her head. She turned to point this out to Harry but he was letting out a series of small snores.

“Also we’re here to celebrate my brother Ronnie, and his two best friends. I can’t tell you what they did, but they are being honored for their services and it’s pretty impressive shit, so cheers to them!” The crowd cheered again. “That’s right. He’s very impressive. Didn’t think he would be, but here we are! Didn’t think he’d make it out of a war alive, but he did. Not a fucking scratch on him, ‘cept some missing fingernails.”

Hermione looked for Ron, and found him standing to the side of the DJ booth. He looked like he was saying something, and George’s face went dark and surly. “No, I don’t feel like going home.”

“Get off the mic!” someone from the crowd hollered, and few people let out a resounding ‘woo’ in agreement.

“Yes, thank you for your support!” George said with a wave. “What was I talking about? Oh yes! The war! My other brothers all made it ok, but I lost an ear, and then my twin brother got fucking killed by a bloody wall. How stupid a way is that to go?”

The DJ tried to get George to hand over the mic, but he was belligerently holding it low and crowding the DJ out. Ron looked like he was saying something. He put a hand on George’s shoulder that was violently shrugged off, prompting Angelina and Lee to run over to intervene.

Hermione didn’t want to crowd them and was fairly certain she couldn’t get there fast enough to help anyways. Ginny had a hand to her mouth. 

“None of you know how much we sacrificed to keep you all safe, you know that? On the run all the time, nearly dying every day, and you lot just went about your lives having no fucking clue. People died. My brother is DEAD! And you’re all having a bloody good time, but he’s dead and everything is fucking ruined and—”

The thick-necked bouncer moved in and started pointing a beefy hand in George’s face.

“George, don’t!” came Ron’s holler, just barely picked up by the mic.

Hermione heard a chorus of yells beside her as, in front of the entire Muggle club, George whipped out his wand and brandished it at the bouncer.

“Take another step and I’ll drop you,” he snarled.

Hermione gave a yell of her own as Ron put up his hands and stood in front of George’s sparking wand.

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

Chapter 5 Author’s Note- 

Chapter 6 is already written and in the editing process.

I actually split Chapter 5 into two parts as it was epically long. So next chapter will be from Hermione's POV

oh, and it will have some smut

and angst

====================================================

Giant thank you to:

@abradystrix​ and @divagonzo​ for betaing and being so supportive and wonderful.

CHAPTER WARNINGS:

cursing, depresssed/anxious thinking, talk about eating & weight gain/loss, evidence of PTSD, drinking and drunkeness, threats

Previously, in 'Waking Up'

Hermione is on edge about her parents and is having trouble with anxiety in general- also worried about Ron not saying 'I love you' yet

Ron was exhausted from tending to George the night before- he's running on fumes- and is devastated that Hermione doesn't seem to care for Harry joining the Aurors- He fills out paperwork and gets sick with anxiety

Needs a quill and sees Hermione needs money for Australia

Goes to the village to get a job- gets lost in dark memories

Comes home to everyone giving cheers to him and the trio for Order of Merlins and Auror offers

They're all gonna go out to celebrate

[nagito-kissmaeda]

Yandere Komaeda Headcanons submitted by Chaos under the cut (y) Warnings: Slight nsfw, yandere behavior, stalking, mention of suicide, masturbation (not very explicit.)

Yandere Nagito probably wasn't very Yandere before you came along. The unlucky boy was probably still the funky little creep to his classmates as always but as soon as you step through the doorway of 77-B's classroom then he kind of just thought, "Oh, they're pretty." And continued with his day. He didn't think too much of you.

If you were an ultimate who walked into the classroom, he wouldn't have thought much of it besides the idea that "YoU wErE sPrEaDiNg HoPe 😩"

If you were a reserve course student, on the other hand, he would think he is slightly superior. So, if you talk to him he'll feel like he's better than you but won't say anything except under certain circumstances (ex: You ask him for his opinion of you, his opinion on reserve course, that kind of stuff. At least, he's honest :/) But keep in mind, he only really acts like this when you two first meet.

After getting to form a friendship with you (however that happened, I'll leave that up to you), his crush on you takes shape quickly.

He mostly just did small stuff that made it obvious that he liked you (whether he realized it or not.) If you weren't around he'd be asking everyone in sight if they knew where you were. He'd linger uncomfortably close to you whenever you two were together. The unlucky boy also tended to...✨follow✨ you.

Bestie, run while you still can 🏃‍♀️💨 because after he kidnaps you you're gonna be more like ♿

(I guess that's assuming you can run at all...sorry if I offended someone ._.)

When you two are hanging out, he eventually opens up to you about his illnesses and past. All of what he told you would probably be a lot to process so the only thing you can think of besides, "I'm so sorry that happened to you," is that you just hug him. Now he's shocked. You're both shocked. wOAH! Nagito doesn't move at all during the hug and probably forgot to breathe because c'mon...homie hasn't received any form of physical affection for God knows how long. He's drawing a total blank and the first words that spring to his mind are, "I'm going to marry them."

You cannot tell me this man doesn't want to get married one day. Yes, his luck sucks fat juicy butt but it's just something he craves and can be selfish about. Nagito's opinion on his want for having a spouse goes back and forth, like how the fitness gram pacer test works (I bet some of you don't even know that this is something outside of a meme lol.) He probably got this desire from seeing how bad his parents' relationship was.

Nerdy headcanon stuff you don't have to read: So, it isn't canon that his parents had a bad relationship but I imagine that they did because Nagito mentions that his mom had never complimented him and he gained a massive inheritance after his family's death. Let me explain my logic on those. Nagito's mom probably never complimented him because she didn't like or want him. I also headcanon that his parents were in an arranged marriage which is why they were so rich and why I think they had a bad relationship, because let's be honest, not all arranged couples are comfortable with one another. The arranged marriage also could've been the reason why his family was wealthy, it could have had to do with business and work. So to wrap it all up, Nagito's parents are rich because of an arranged marriage and they don't really like each other and they had a kid that neither of them wanted so now it's a broken family with a fucked up kid. I know that sounds like a stretch but that's why it's a headcanon and not actually canon lol.

After that one hug, that's when he truly sees you as some sort of ethereal Deity that he was sure he was going to wed in the future (Hell, he'd probably settle for right there, right now.) He no longer cared if you were an ultimate or not because now he saw you as something even greater. Of course, he still views himself as scum but even scum has desires that they are willing to do anything for.

After Nagito had come back to his dorm, the realization hit him that if he was going to marry you, he would have to be worthy of your hand in marriage. So, he prepares. By that I mean he starts stalking you a lot.

You two were already friends on social media so you probably didn’t dwell too much on it when you found him accidentally liking old posts. He’d go on your socials and scroll through it looking for every little bit of information he could find on you. Sometimes he'd strike gold and other times he'd dig up dirt. Nagito began talking to you a lot more so he could gain some information on your likes and dislikes. You only assumed that he was more comfortable with talking to you now because he confided his troubles in you but in reality he was planning your future life with him. Once in a while you'd invite to your dorm whether it was for hangouts, study sessions, or just sleepovers (he absolutely LOVED it when you brought those up.) The only opening he had to steal stuff is when you went to the bathroom and when that happened all he'd do every single time is go to the closet, grab another one of the pillow cases that the dorm provides, and switch them out with your current ones. When the pillowcase stops smelling like you then he just sticks it in the school's laundry basket where things like bed sheets, pillow cases, and blankets that belong to the school go.

After weeks after weeks of obtaining bits and pieces of information on you such as food you like and dislike, what your family is like (If you/your oc has one), your favorite movies, music genres, and clothing, etc., He eventually realized that he lacked three more things. Romance, experience, and…"performance."

The one thing he absolutely needed to learn first was "How to kiss." Even though no one sees his search history besides him, it was still very  embarrassing to put those words on his computer. He typed those three letters into the google machine and ta-da! A wikihow page and a YouTube video were apparently his best options. He opted for the latter and watched as a lady and her boyfriend demonstrated how to perform different types of kisses. Intimate and sexual. He feels awkward just watching this and he feels like he should practice but...on what? Luckily for him, there is a perfectly good pillow lying on his bed.

...This was definitely weird. His chapped lips were pressed against the plush pillow as he imagined he was french kissing you. This doesn't seem like the greatest method but Nagito doesn't seem to have any other choice.

The pillow in front of me was wrinkled and slightly wet from where I had last kissed it. It felt beyond awkward to kiss a pillow and imagine it was your future partner. I couldn't imagine them walking in on me as my face was buried in a pillow while moaning out muffled noises. It would be far too embarrassing but, I've faced worse. Practice should continue or else my mouth will never come as even a fraction of pleasure to my love. I approach the pillow and lay, stomach down, on my bed again. While this has been an awkward situation, my insides are starting to feel like they're on fire! It's probably just the thought of Y/N floating around in my brain. I take a deep breath before cupping my hands at the corners of the pillow and diving my mouth towards the pillow once more. I start off with a short kiss but continuously start moving my lips against, what I imagine to be, their lips. I move my bottom lip more often than my top. Imagining I'm trapping their lips against mine. Just the thought of trapping them makes me grind my hips against the mattress a little. Even though I'm soft I still let out a little whimper. Does Y/N even like it when their partner makes noise? I wasn't able to find any information on what she likes in bed so...with my luck, I'll just leave it to chance. My kisses get more sloppy and desperate. I begin swiping and swirling my tongue against the pillow thinking about just what it might feel like to make out with them. Their hot, wet mouth pressing up against mine while our tongues rub against one another in an attempt to touch each other. I moan seemingly too loud at that thought and start humping the bed. Everything feels so hot.

Maybe combining kissing practice and "performance" practice would be a good idea.

Once he starts performance practice, his browser is constantly on sex related websites. But more on the education side...he wants to know how to make you feel good and how to make himself last longer. Once in a while, he does go on the hub though so he can pretend it's you and him having sex on the screen. He tries his best to look for ones where it sounds like you or looks like you. He prefers the ones where it sounds like you so that way he could just close his eyes and imagine you and him are together. 

Just a random bonus I thought I'd add in: He got a boner during class once and sat there for like ten minutes just waiting for it to go away. So he just ended up palming himself through his pants and struggled to not make any noise. He liked to imagine you were under the desk pressing your face against his clothed crotch and just rubbing your face around that area. Luckily, he came without letting a single noise slip past his lips. Unluckily, Nagito cums a lot. So everyone could see the enormous wet spot on the crotch of his pants when class was dismissed.

He happens to have a weird habit of doing domestic and soft things with a hint of creepy. For example, one of his favorite things to do as of recently is print out a picture that has your face in it, tape it to his pillow, and fall asleep cuddling it. This sounds fine if you two were dating but… you aren't. He'll give it kisses, cuddle with it, fall asleep with it, and, of course, it's what he uses during his performance practice. He also enjoys eating meals with it and watching movies while cuddling it too. He perceives it all as practice for when you two are wed.

I'm going to assume you aren't an oblivious idiot and just say that you probably began to notice how weird he'd get around you. You tried distancing yourself a little bit but enough to still stay friends. He noticed the change in how often you'd hang out with him and his anxiety skyrocketed. Nagito would feel he had only a couple choices left. And that was to kidnap you, get rid of any obstacles that didn't allow him to spend every waking moment with you, or just flat out kill you so that way no one could have you. He already knew he wouldn't be able to even breathe without you so he'd likely kill himself as well in the process.

Author's Note: I'll probably be discontinuing that one Nagito x reader chapter 2 because I wasn't able to finish it before the school year started and I was just dissatisfied with the chapters BUT! I do have plenty of headcanons on yandere Komaeda! Message me if you want some far more nsfw headcanons because I have a lot for this guy.  I'm also very open to crackfic oneshots.

[daydream-believin]

What About the Smaller Picture (2)

Summary: Merlin knows best. And what he feels is best for you and Douxie right now is to sit around and wait for him to come back from New Jersey, Merlin-knows-when. (2) Your first day in Arcadia, it sure is something. (1) - (3)

Warnings: swearing, proofing is for nerds

Word Count: 2211

a/n: i hope to be able to make you feel the awkwardness radiating off of every part of this series

Hisirdoux’s special welcome tour didn’t exactly do its job of making you feel welcome. You supposed that was more of a problem with you than the town. It definitely wasn’t of any fault of Hisirdoux’s. If anything, he was being a little too warm. It almost felt fake.

People appeared to like Hisirdoux. All across town, he would greet friends, introduce you to them. Kinda like he was showing you off. You did not know what for. He barely knew you, yet he talked about you like you were an old friend returned to him. Like he was proud of you or something. You supposed he was establishing a cover story. And you weren’t sure why. Why not just say you were new in town? What tracks was he trying to cover here.

You stopped paying too much attention to what Hisirdoux was telling others about you. He was telling them that he cared for you. That he missed you. It was a lie, sure. But just hearing those words come out of someone else’s mouth were making you melt. It had been so long that it was hard for you to recall the last time a person said such nice things about you. That was sad. You supposed the blush on your face did good to add to the story he was telling. Made it more believable. You felt really pathetic that this guy you barely knew lying through his teeth about you was actually making you blush as if it was real. As if anyone really thought those nice things he said about you in real life. Man that’s really sad. Moving on.

The town itself looked a little rough. Like it had seen better days. It was apparently a hub of magic, so it probably had. A lot of the damage you saw looked very recent though. That made sense. The whole reason you wound up here was because you befriended a girl traveling with a pack of trolls migrating from this very town. When asked why they were migrating, Claire, the girl, had told you that their home had been destroyed in a recent battle. “The Eternal Night” they called the battle. You, of course, knew about such eternal night. You had heard of the prophecy, you just didn’t expect it to happen in your lifetime. And you may had freaked out just a tad when it came along earlier that month, the unexpected solar eclipse confusing you and your studies before you figured out what was happening. However, you had assumed the battle took place underground, you know, cause trolls. The town you explored with Hisirdoux told a different story. At one point you saw a troll walking by, under an umbrella, following a red-headed human woman with a baby in her arms. And the locals didn’t seem to care. No one batted an eye. Strange town.

What really baffled you though was what happened later in the day, back at the bookstore, when you cast a simple spell. Nothing too flashy, just a little levitation on a book Hisirdoux had sent you to find up on a high shelf you couldn’t reach. When he saw you, Doux made a really panicked gasping sound. He threw himself in front of you, shielding you from the people who were not even there, startling you, and throwing off your focus. The book landed on both of you with a thunk.

“You can’t do that,” his voice was hushed despite you two being the only ones in the shop at the moment, “It’s business hours. The mortals don’t know about wizards and they shouldn’t see magic,” he stressed.

“But- uh,, They look just fine with the trolls?” Confusion was written across your face.

“That’s different. It’s different. Look, the situation is weird, okay,” He made a little X with his hands. “But I can’t have you casting spells around the shop. Or in public, period. The mortals can’t see anything, okay?”

“Okay, okay. My bad. I won’t do it again- Promise.” Your face was hot with embarrassment. This was your fault for assuming. Fuck, he probably thinks you’re a wild card now or something. Not a good start to your professional life here. Or your relationship with this Adonis who’s reprimanding you.

“While there are some other wizards around town that I’ll introduce you to tonight, to stay safe, generally just keep the magic for when we’re alone and out of sight.”

“Oh, yeah, uh- Okay”

He grinned. Suddenly, he leaned in, catching you off guard. “It can be a special thing,” His voice was even softer as he was so close to you, “just between the two of us.”

Oh. So he meant when just You and Him were alone and out of sight. Ooookaaaayyyy. He winked to you as he separated himself from your side, and went off to the back of the store to continue unpacking a shipment he had just got in. He left you there, clutching that damn book to your chest, face now hotter than before, if that was even possible at all. Oh no.

Fuck, it was fucking day one. Day one! Day fucking one and you were developing a crush. NOPE. This was not something you were going to do. Uh-uh. Nein. There was no fucking time for this. Well, you didn’t really know how much time you had with Merlin and his addiction to being perceived as mysterious or whatever the hell was wrong with that asshole you worked for now, but the point is you did not have time for this! Hisirdoux was too much. Merlin really should have had the decency to warn you that he was hot. This wasn’t fair. Not only was Doux beautiful, but he was a touchy person. You weren’t going to stand a chance.

The thing is you had been sooo worried about how you and Hisirdoux were going to get along, you even brought up the concern to Merlin. To be honest, you had thought the old wizard to just be annoyed at your worrying, and that’s why he reassured you it’d all be fine. That you and Hisirdoux would get along swimmingly or whatever just get out of my hair kid. You were so afraid Hisirdoux would have to warm up to you like a cat being introduced to a new kitten. Afraid that he’d resent you since you were technically Merlin’s apprentice too now in a sense. And he was used to being number one, no one else to compete with for Merlin’s sparse pride since Morgana went astray. Merlin assured you Hisirdoux was very friendly. But like, would it kill the geezer to give you a warning that he’d be too friendly.

While you were having your little crisis, Douxie was humming along to the song in his head, stacking up the new books onto a display, trying his absolute dilly darndest not to think about what just happened. What he did. That wasn’t weird, right? Oh fuzzbuckets, he did something weird. He was just so used to playing up the flirty persona he’d developed he hadn’t even stopped to think about if he’d be making you uncomfortable. And he really wanted you to be comfortable. Plus, he felt pretty guilty he had to stop your tour around town to go accept a shipment he forgot. Strangely, he was really concerned about the impression he was giving you. Caring about what another person thought of him was not very in character for him. Not counting Merlin, of course. He was going to have to make this up to you. He really needed you to think he was cool. For professional reasons, of course. Definitely.

~ ~ ~

“SO! I recommend the steak because it’s the least disgusting thing on the menu.”

You gaped at the wizard sitting across from you in this sticky booth, peeping your head over the kitschy French-themed menu you held. He had no menu. In fact he refused to even touch it. Great. What did he know.

“I- What do mean ‘least disgusting’, Casperan.” You were almost afraid to ask.

“I mean that kitchen is filthy and the steak is your best bet for something edible.”

“Why. Why would you bring me here if the food is terrible.”

You were always weary of greasy chain restaurants, but you had expected this one to be at least a little decent, since it was a smaller Cali chain and Hisirdoux had fucking brought you to it your first day in the town. Surely he was kidding.

“I just wanted to show you where I worked nights. So you’d be able to find me easier if there’s any trouble. Besides, you can’t say you’ve been to California if you haven’t had Mr. Benoit’s. It’s like In-N-Out burger. Remind me to take you to an In-N-Out burger later this week.”

You blinked. “Oh – uh, okay.”

Hisirdoux continued, “I can’t have my phone turned on during my shifts so you’ll have to come get me directly if it’s a big enough problem. Make up an emergency. Are you good at improve?”

You looked around the restaurant, getting a feel for its layout, taking notice of where the kitchen and back doors were located, making mental notes of all exits. “Ah, well, I’m good at lying, if that’s what you’re asking…”

“Good enough.”

The waiter came to take your orders. Hisirdoux shared an inside joke with him. It should have been awkward, them laughing away at something you didn’t understand why you sat there quietly, but you were a little too fixated on how pretty Hisirdoux looked when he laughed. It was mesmerizing. The waiter took your order. You got the steak.

~ ~ ~

It was very important for you to establish connections in Arcadia’s wizard underground. Or at least that’s what Hisirdoux thought. You weren’t particularly a social butterfly. It’s not that you didn’t like having a large group of friends or anything, you just never really had a reason to have one. And Doux was hell bent on introducing you to every person in this town in one day apparently. You had met twenty-three wizards in counting over the last hour being shepherded through this off-brand apple store. You had so far learned no names. How did he expect you to remember these peoples names.  Scratch that. You knew one name. Zoe. Just because she was very annoyed at your and Hisirdoux’s presence in her workplace, and was very vocal about it. That being said, she didn’t make any real effort to get you to leave. You wished she would though. You were getting overwhelmed. Today had been incredibly stressful, with a lot of information to take in, and with only a brief rest when Doux was handling things at the bookstore. You wanted to go home. Geez, home. You realized that Hisirdoux had yet to show you home. Where was home.

You tugged on his hand to grab his attention. “Hey, I’m- uh – tired? Really tired. Can - can we go home?”

“OH. Yes! Home. Right away. Yes.”

Douxie possibly maybe had been avoiding home all day. It just, it wasn’t much. He had no idea how you were going to react. His space was small already without adding another person to it. Of course, it wasn’t any smaller than any of the one-room cottages that entire families used to share, but it was tiny for modern standards. Okay to be frank it was a back room. Not technically even an actual apartment. But it was his home. And now it was your home too.

Okay, so Hisirdoux lived in his bookstore. What was probably supposed to be a break room was his entire living space. It was… cozy. You set the backpack that carried everything you owned down on the floor and headed for the lumpy plaid sofa. It was nice and old, like a sofa should be. The plaid pattern covered any stains that might have been there. Hisirdoux sat down next to you, starting to fiddle with his hands. You looked around, took it all in. The was a kitchenette off to one side, a bed to the other side. The sofa was in the sort of middle ground. Notably, there was no table, barely any counter space, and various teacups on the coffee table, so it was a safe bet that he just ordered take out every night and ate it on the sofa. The twin bed was on the ground, and the quilts that covered it had visible holes. It struck you that this bed was the only one in the room. The one room.

“So I’ll take the sofa, until we get you a bed. I’ll, uh, figure something out with the space. We can put up curtains or something.” It was if he had read your mind.

You nodded, unsure of anything to add. This was,,,, going to be fun. A challenge. A test to see how long you can act normal while living in extremely close quarters with a funny medieval supermodel. Merlin help you. Something moved in the corner of your eye. You gasped.

“Kitty!”

“Oh, that’s Archie.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Talking kitty. How bout that.

[coeurdastronaute]

Nerd 14

Previously on Nerd

There weren’t many things considered as decorations in the house on the corner of Inglewood Street. The old stone house, with its black shutters and manicured lawn hid behind a stately oak and the polished Porsche in the driveway, glowed as a beacon in the neighborhood, of perfection and wealthy modesty. Inside, it was less populated than one might expect, never fully lived-in, at least not to the casual observer. 

Clarke moved her way down the stairs as she balanced the bag on her shoulder, fully prepared for work and then studying with her girlfriend on a fairly boring Saturday night. For the first time in a long time, she looked at the sparse frames of pictures of her family. 

Unsure of what made her pause, she furrowed, pushing her eyebrows tightly together and leaning into the image of her mother and father on a random date when they were together in college. They were carefree and at some bar trivia night. Abby hugged Jake’s bicep and nearly hid in his shoulder as he leaned forward, other arm lifted to interject an answer. He was smiling wide despite his eagerness, the flash ricocheting off part of his large glasses. His hair was floppy and fully, swept to the side and neatly arranged, while Abby was brimming with life. Clarke loved the candid picture because sometimes she looked at it, and these were two people who had entire lives and experiences and she forgot that. They probably got butterflies like she did when Lexa smiled at her. They probably spent hours excitedly waiting to see the other. 

In that picture, her mother wasn’t the person she was now, though both seemed insanely far away from Clarke. This college-aged person was alive, vibrant, in-love, awake, eager, and not cheating on her husband. The body language alone showed how much she adored him. 

In that picture, her father was the funny, charming man she remembered, not the angry, frustrated man who was skin and bones, who couldn’t eat, who couldn’t swallow, who had difficulties moving most days and remembering his own daughter others. He was alive as well. He was the man everyone wanted to sit beside for some reason, for som inexplicable reason he had this… he had a spark that drew those to him like a moth to a flame, except he was that flame, and he shared his light eagerly with those around him. 

Clarke relaxed her face after a few moments of looking and seeing and trying to find some kind of detail in that picture that would indicate that the couple in it would know what their life would like like two decades later. There wasn’t a single indication, and that terrified her. 

“Did you finish you math?” her mother’s voice called from the hallway, hearing her daughter shift and move to look at the next picture without seeing her first. 

“Yes.” 

The next image was a very tiny Clarke on her father’s shoulders and her mother hugging his waist as they all stood beneath a redwood tree. They had hiking gear, shorts, sunglasses, hats and sunscreen. They were all smiling. They were a family. 

“Did you email me that draft of your personal essay for applications?” 

Clarke gave up perusing, no longer feeling the yearn for that family unit that was far away. She rolled her eyes and stomped her way down the steps to find her mother sorting through envelopes and mail. 

“No.” 

“Why not?” Abby didn’t look up as she flipped.

“Because I’m a junior, and I have five months before applications are due.”

“That’s no excuse not to be prepared. Maybe if you didn’t spend so much time chasing after some gir--”

“Who am I chasing after?” Clarke scoffed, crossing her arms and peering at her mother. “Do you mean helping Lexa on her submission for film school? Do you mean tennis practice? Do you mean working part time? Do you mean having a social life?” 

“Considerate that you can help someone else get into college.” 

“It’s going to take her months to edit, which I can’t-- I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

That did it. Clarke knew it would. Clarke new an overt expression of her own independence would trigger her mother. She knew arguing and not appearing to care about college would give her the satisfaction of a righteous fight. She wanted it. It’d been brewing for about a week and a half, ever since Clarke said she was going prom dress shopping without her. Ever since Clark forgot to tell her about spending the night camping with Lexa and the film crew while the powered through the project. Ever since Clarke didn't’ come home for dinner last Tuesday and then raved about Mrs. Woods’ garlic chicken. Tiny things Clarke did with spite because she didn’t know what else to do, because she couldn’t do anything else. 

Abby’s nostrils flared and Clarke jutted her hip, shrugging to herself as she dug for her phone, ready to go to work and escape the house and the persistent smell of medical equipment and cleaner that haunted her until she was about two blocks from the house. 

“I’ll be home around midnight.” 

“Like hell you will. You’ll be home right after your shift.” 

“No,” Clarke paused as she turned to leave. “I’m going over Lexa’s to study. We’re watching a Cary Grant movie.” 

“You’re under the misconception that you get to make your own schedule and plans without asking permission. But that is not the case, Clarke.” 

“I’ve been doing fine.” 

“You’ve barely been home. Your father is--”

“Right there, in that room, asleep. I know this because I spent the morning with him. We made pancakes and played a game of cribbage. We talked about school and Lexa and I showed him pictures of the past week of my life. And I helped him with his meds because he’s having a bit of a flare. I told him I’d see him in the morning for omelettes because we’ve been watching cooking shows together and he wants to try the french style. I know exactly what is going on with my father.” 

She hadn’t meant to, but her voice began to raise as she spoke. Clarke felt her fist shake. She felt her muscles tighten and her jaw clench. She was okay with being considered lazy and unmotivated, but to be accused of negligence was uncalled for, especially from someone like her mother. 

“Don’t you raise your voice! You are greatly mistaken as to the nature of our relationship. I am your mother, and I am sick of your attitude, and your priorities not being your father and your family or your education.” 

“Lexa has nothing to do with any of that. Are you just mad I’m dating a girl? Or that I don’t care what you think anymore?” 

Slightly taken aback by her daughter, by her words, by her actions, by her entire demeanor over the past few months and frankly just sick of dealing with being the bad guy. 

“I don’t even know who you are anymore,” Abby shook her head. 

“I could say the same thing.” 

The two stared at each other before Clarke shook her head and adjusted her bag. She toyed with her keys in her pockets before checking her phone again. 

“I’m going to be late for work. I’ll be back tonight.” 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Abby insisted again. “You’re grounded indefinitely.” 

“Except I’m not,” Clarke sighed and shook her head. “I’m not because I don’t care anymore. I genuinely don’t.”

“You’re going to. Give me your keys and your phone.” 

“No.” 

“I’m not joking, Clarke. You’re going to need to readjust your priorities and attitude.”

“I think you should take your own advice,” Clarke insisted as she reached the front door. “Or are you too busy fucking Kane to realize that there is no more family here?” 

With a satisfying slam, she yanked the door shut. The anger that was stationed in her shoulders dissipated with the noise and movement. Clarke stood there in the quiet of her perfect neighborhood, the flapping of the flag lazily moving in the spring breeze was all she heard at first. Then the birds came. Then a lawnmower started in the distance. 

Clarke felt lighter than she’d felt in a long time. She also felt emptier than any other time in her life. It was officially the end, and now she had to deal with that because the anger and the hurt and the betrayal was all she’d had in her for what felt like months. It hadn’t made anything better, and it certainly ruined everything, but Clarke took some solace in the fact that now she could try to fill herself up with something else. 

XXXXXXXXXX

The party at Bellamy Blake’s house was in full swing by the time Lexa made her way up the winding driveway and into the belly of the beast. She wasn’t sure how she ended up there exactly, except that her girlfriend texted and said to show up. That seemed to be enough of a reason, though Lexa wasn’t particularly prepared. They’d had plans. Quiet plans. Private plans. Movie plans. 

And now Lexa was going to her girlfriend’s ex’s party. 

She shoved her hands in her pockets as she moved through the crowd, clearly not getting the memo that jeans were not entirely good enough attire, and in fact she seemed to be extremely overdressed. Her eyes bugged slightly as she watched a girl from her physics class walk by in a very tiny, very teeny lime green bikini. Lexa became suddenly aware of the appeal of such things, as if she hadn’t noticed them before, but then MIchelle who sat diagonally in front of her third period looked like that and she gulped. 

The music thumped loudly. The beats were rattling the walls and shaking the windows while the screams and giggles of her classmates sought to shatter glass. It wasn’t like the other parties she’d been to with Clarke. It wasn’t even like thrones Anya dragged her to when she visited. This was a night of debauchery and she hadn’t had time to prepare. 

And as much as she saw everyone else wearing bikinis, she hadn’t thought about Clarke wearing one. She’d seen Clarke’s boobs before. That was nice. But there was something to her girlfriend in a bikini that was… good. Very good, even. 

Lexa pushed her glasses up slightly on her nose and stared. 

“What are you doing here?” Gus asked, approaching quietly. She didn’t move or say anything else, just stared from across the pool, the steam billowing upward to ward the sky while everyone seemed to glow blue and green and red, the lights alternating around them, the flames of the fire pits dancing to keep everyone warm. The warm glow of the lights inside were lost on the white-blue shade to the water. 

“Lexa, focus,” he snapped his fingers in front of her face. “What are you doing here? Your sister would kill me if she knew you were at a Blake party.” 

“How is it different than any other party?” 

“It just is.” 

“Because of the pool? I’ve been to pool parties.” 

It hadn’t been since seventh grade and didn’t look like an episode of a CW show, but still, she’d been to a pool party with many of the same cast of characters that were currently on display. It was before puberty, but still. 

“We need to get you home.” 

“Clarke invited me.” 

“It doesn’t matter. This isn’t your scene.” 

“I can be in any scene. I’ve watched every John Hughes movie.”

“This is more of an episode of Euphoria than an 80s teen flick,” Gus sighed and took another swig from his cup. “And I fully believe you would fit in fine with Molly Ringwald.”

“That’s very kind of you to say,” Lexa nodded. “I’ll be fine.” 

She took her eyes off of her girlfriend long enough to assure her friend that she was perfectly fine now. She was dating the head cheerleader. She’d been to parties and seen--

“Gus-- is that cocaine?” 

“Okay, yeah, we have to get you out of here,” he shook his head and tossed his empty cup into a flowerbed. 

“Is it really?” she asked, craning her neck as he pushed her forward. “I’ve never see that in real life before. People actually do that thing with the credit cards and dollar bills? Astounding. Where does one get cocaine?” 

“You don’t need to know that.” 

“I’m not going to do it. I’m just curious.” 

They only made it a few steps before the ran into a sopping body. A tall, muscular, tan, perfectly chiseled and dripping body. It was the body of an actual god. It was the body of the perfect specimen, with biceps and the long swimmer cuts that pointed firmly toward his… his-ness. 

“Gus, long time, man. How you been?” Bellamy Blake grinned before slipping his cup in his teeth as he hugged the other football player. 

“Not too bad. Heard you’re heading to Oregon in the fall?” 

“Yeah, partial scholarship. We’ll see what happens,” he shrugged. “Staying close?” 

“Yeah, St. Johns, about three hours away.” 

“Full ride?” 

“Yeah. I got offered half to OSU, but would rather not have to pay anything.” 

“No, that’s smart.” 

The whole time they spoke, Lexa watched Clarke’s ex intently. She frowned to herself and wondered how her girlfriend broke up with him. He was effortlessly cool. He was huge. He looked like he knew how to go down on a girl, and Lexa was still apprehensive. She wished she could fast forward in life until she was really good at sex. 

She watched him grin and sip from his red cup, meeting her eyes curiously as Gus explained something about his college recruitment process. 

“I don’t think we’ve ever met before. I’m Bellamy.” 

He held out his hand. And though she didn’t want to do it, she sighed and shook his hand. 

“Sorry, I should have introduced you. This is Lexa.” 

“Lexa… Lexa…” He mulled. 

“Anya Woods’ sister.” 

“Wow, you’re Anya’s little sister?” 

“Yeah.” 

“How is she? I forgot she had a little sister. I remember her little brother died-- oh shit.” 

“Yeah.” 

“We were just heading out,” Gus interrupted. 

“I was actually just going to go talk to Clarke.” 

“Why would you--”

Before anything else could be said, before anything else could transpire between the two of them, before Gus had to interrupt again, Clarke appeared, launching herself into her girlfriend’s arms, wrapping her own around her neck, her body still slightly damp from the pool she must have just climbed out of during the awkward introduction. 

“You’re here. I’m so happy,” Clarke hummed against Lexa’s warm neck. She buried herself there, suffocating herself happily, slightly tipsy. 

“I told you I’d stop by.” 

Clarke kissed her girlfriend’s neck. She leaned most of her body against her there and giggled, oblivious to the eyes, too drunk to care about anything else happening. 

“I am have the worst day. Maybe the worst week. Maybe the worst year ever. No, wait. Definitely the worst year, and today I finally told my mom everything and then left. So Yeah. It’s been terrible. I got drunk.” 

“Not the healthiest coping mechanism.”

“Not a bit,” Clarke grinned, agreeing eagerly and with a wide grin. She leaned forward and kissed her girlfriend despite her words. 

“You can be healthy tomorrow,” Lexa offered. “You okay?” 

“As okay as can be.” 

There was some throat clearing that happened behind them, and Lexa felt a burning in her ears and chest at the display, unaccustomed to it all. 

“So this is your new girlfriend?” Bellamy asked, looking at the pair. 

“Lex, I suppose you’ve met my ex,” Clarke gestured. 

“Kind of.” 

“Is this party a little much?”

“If I remember correctly, this was exactly the kind of thing you liked. We went to many a party in our tenure,” Bellamy shrugged, lazily leaning against a counter. “Things changed since I left, I guess.” 

“I enjoyed not thinking,” Clarke offered. “You were great for that.” 

Gus and Lexa looked between the two and then at each other. She was almost certain she didn’t know what was happening, but that certainly, something was, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. 

“You moved on quick, huh?” 

“Hey, step back,” Gus interrupted as Bellamy took a single step. “This is Anya’s sister.” 

“Woods?” he furrowed. “You’re dating Anya Woods’ kid sister?” 

“Yup,” Clarke nodded. 

“I heard she was--”

“Standing right here,” Gus finished. 

Lexa felt Clarke’s hand move into her own and she smiled despite the fact that she was picking up a drunk girl at her college guy ex’s party. There was a lot in that sentence she wasn’t happy about, now that she thought about it. 

“You ready to get out of here?” Lexa asked innocently, ignoring the rest. 

“I think we still have a few more shots lined up, Clarke,” Bellamy smiled and Lexa understood the need to punch. 

Noticeably torn, she looked at her girlfriend and back at her ex before realizing that she was actually drunk, and that wasn’t good. Lexa smiled softly and rubbed her girlfriend’s back. She kind of imagined how it must have felt to implode and take her mother down with her. Lexa remembered the feeling of telling her father she was gay and sad. Clarke’s implosion didn’t seem as successful as her own, and Lexa was more than happy to try to help in whatever way she could. 

“Can I stay at your place tonight?” 

“Yeah,” Lexa nodded quickly. “I’ll text my mom to let her know.” 

“You’re seriously leaving?” The college football player and terrible ex scoffed. “The night is still young. It’s barely after eleven.” 

“Thanks for getting me drunk, but I should probably go do something better.” 

“Thanks for showing me around,” Lexa offered nodding her head slightly toward the host before he could argue. “Have a good night. I’ll see you on Monday, Gus.”

“Get home safe,” the linebacker warned. 

Slightly dumbfounded, Bellamy Blake stood there, hands on his hips as he watched his ex weave through the crowd of people and disappear. As much s everything stayed the same, he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling of change, and how averse he was to it. 

XXXXXXXXXX

“Here, you can, uh,” Lexa quickly moved through her bedroom, leaving her girlfriend standing by the bed. “I have some old sweats if you want.” 

Already, Clarke began taking off her pants, and Lexa quickly looked in the drawers of her dresser. She felt the tips of her ears burn slightly as she looked over her shoulder, her girlfriend slumping into the bed, pants lost to the floor. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have gone to that party. I knew it,” Clarke sighed, rubbing her face with both hands to ride herself of the spinning. “But I didn’t care. I just wanted to… you know…”

“You had it out with your mom. You just anted to go far away. I get it.” 

“Don’t be nice to me. I knew better than to go, especially to anything involving Bellamy Blake.” 

“Why?” 

“He doesn’t care about any of it. Just has drinks. I should have called you or like done something else.” 

“You’re allowed to want to take a night off from a giant secret after a huge fight. And you don’t need my permission,” Lexa reminded her girlfriend, offering an old shirt. 

“It was stupid.” 

“Do you feel better?” 

Gingerly, Lexa tugged at Clarke’s shirt, pulling it over her head until she flopped back down on the bed, her hair fanning out against the pillow. Agitated at herself, at her clothe, at the unfathomable uncontrollability to the entirety of her life, Clarke growled to herself as she tugged off her bra, tossing it to the side and gracelessly pulling on the shirt Lexa offered. 

“I don’t feel better at all.” 

It was certainly a pout, and Lexa did her best to ignore it. Instead, she slicked off the light beside the bed, and slid between the sheets next to Clarke. Lexa laid there until Clarke turned to face her, until she placed her hand on her neck and cheek. 

“I’m sorry you had to pick me up.” 

“It’s okay,” Lexa whispered. 

“It’s not. I’m not like this… I don’t mean to be… I mean--”

“It’s okay.” 

Clarke leaned forward, shifting beneath the blankets until their knees were touching. She moved to only push the hair from Lexa’s forehead and she paused before kissing her lips. She tasted the warmth of the tequila there and she didn’t care. Lexa signed. 

“Please don’t give up on me anytime soon,” Clarke murmured. Stunned from the kiss, Lexa blinked in the dark and shifted closer. 

“I wouldn’t ever.” 

“I know you wouldn’t. I just had to say it out loud.” 

“Okay.” 

Lexa was certain she was going to get another kiss, but instead, Clarke dug her forehead under her girlfriend’s chin and pressed their bodies together, hugging her tightly and disappearing, being overwhelmed, anchoring herself to a steady force. Lexa rubbed Clarke’s back for a few moments until she fell asleep, and then she allowed herself the option of sleep.

NEXT

[wasabito]

had so much fun writing for my baby boy tendou, so here’s my entry for the hqhq sfw server collab! be sure to check out the rest on the masterlist found here! enjoy ✨

words: 3.0k

prompt: “you woke me up at 3am for this?”

synopsis: your neighbor is ridiculous, kind of annoying and little bit on the weird side, but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

You had to be the biggest idiot on the planet—an obvious exaggeration, yes, but you were still inclined to believe it was true. 

How else could you explain the feeling of being so utterly fed up with one’s actions like this? Were there enough words in the dictionary to describe just how exhausted you were by your own antics, more specifically, your forgetfulness since that’s what had landed you in a world of pain and embarrassment?

The answer was no.

You sat with your back pressed against your front door, head in your hands and chin tucked between your raised knees and chest. At your side was your wallet along with stacks of newspapers, coupons and whatever else had been stuffed in your mailbox, bills probably. Advertisements too. Honestly, it was hard to be happy about a new restaurant opening up down the block when you were currently stuck—locked out of your apartment to be precise.

The landlord of your cheap little complex wasn’t expected to be back for another hour according to the sign posted outside of his office. So until then, you’d remain posted up by your doorstep like some loiterer. 

You shifted in place and blew a puff of air from your lips, feeling little pinpricks in your legs. For the fifth time in the last forty-five minutes you felt like kicking yourself, hard.

The sun hung low, nearly touching the distant horizon signifying the end of another day. Even the sky was painted a warm umber, casting dim shadows.

“Locked out, huh?” came a snide, but accented voice.

It took you way longer than necessary to realize that suddenly you weren’t the only person on this floor. God, where was your head at?

A pair of forest green crocs stood before you, complete with a few odd charms and trinkets. A cartoon volleyball, pinned next to a smiley face, a donut and a gaudy “i heart paris” chain dangling from the ankle strap. A person’s shoes could say a lot about who they were...your mother thought so, at least.

Resisting the urge to projectile vomit all over this stranger’s rather questionable taste in footwear, your wary gaze panned upward, glossing over white tube socks and a pair of the longest legs you’ve ever seen on a person—yet another exaggeration. You came face to face with a crooked smile. Curious ruby eyes returned your stare with almost the same amount of scrutiny.

Who the hell was this guy?

Mystery-man easily towered over you, and not only because you were hunched over and sitting. He was tall as hell, all lanky build, gangly arms and legs disguising lithe muscle and a surprisingly sturdy frame. He looked like the i-run-every-morning type; semi-athletic at the very least. His buzzed hair was the color of cinnamon, no that wasn’t right, paprika maybe? Either way, it contrasted sharply with the paleness of his skin, so much so that you could see the faint blue of the veins in his arms.

“Yoohooo, anybody hooome?” He tilted his head at you.

“Huh? Oh uh, yeah, I’m locked out. I forgot my key inside and Mr. Laurent won’t be back until later.”

“Hmm. That sucks...”

“...Um… do I… do I know you or something? You look a little familiar.”

He pinned you with a funny look, before pulling out a set of keys from the back pocket of his shorts.

“Maybe you do, maybe you don’t~ I mean we are neighbors, after all.” Laughing as if he’d made some sort of joke, he entered his apartment with a twirl and a dramatic wave of his arms.

You stared at his door for a solid minute, only to finally succumb to your urges and facepalm at your own idiocy. Of course he looked familiar, how could he not when he literally lived four feet away.

With a sigh of resignation, you braced yourself for another hour spent sitting outside your front door. It wasn’t like there was any other place you could go or anyone you could call. The battery icon on your phone blinked red, warning that it was soon to run out of juice. Guess that meant no Among Us or Subway Surfer for you.

Five minutes later, the door next to you opened. It was Mystery-man again, but this time, he sat in front of his door, just like you were. And he did so with a bag of pretzels and a jar of nutella in hand.

“Must be bored out here by yourself.” He crunched on a pretzel before offering you the bag to take some. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep ya company.”

You weren’t sure why, but there was something about this guy that intrigued you. You half-wondered if it was the funny little curl of his smile, or the wideness of his eyes that made it seem like he was looking at all of you, all at once. 

"You must be pretty bored...uh,"

"Satori Tendou, but most people call me Tendou. Miracle boy works just fine too."

"Right... Tendou, as I was saying, you must be incredibly bored to come sit out here with me. You sure you don't have anything important to do?"

Tendou's grinned widened. "Positive! And it costs me nothing to be neighborly, so don't even sweat it."

That was...nice of him?

If sitting outside with you was the way he wanted to spend his late Tuesday afternoon who were you to deny him? And truthfully, you didn't mind the company, at least not really. Provided this guy wasn't some creepy-stalker-weirdo, you were sure there wasn't any harm in getting to know the person who lived one door over.

"So, Tendou, how long have you lived in the area? You don't really look like you're from around here...I could be wrong."

Tendou raised a thin brow at you. "Weeeell, if you're asking about how long I've lived next door, it would be about three maybe four months give or take, but if you're asking how long I've lived in Paris, it would be a year next month. Speaking of, I think Semisemi has a birthday coming up..."

You watched as he pulled out his cell phone and tapped away at the illuminated glass screen. You couldn't help but notice the goofy little anime stickers on his phone case. One in particular caught your attention.

“Is that...Kirara? From Inuyasha??”

“Oho! So, you recognize this?”

Backtracking, you mumble out, “Ah, well…only a little.” Though your face was turned away, the tiny smile on your lips was not hidden from Tendou and he thought you were pretty cute.

Funnily enough, what you had expected to be a rather unnerving and possibly creepy exchange turned out to be anything but. Tendou was incredibly fun to talk to—a bit teasing and a little overwhelming with his superfluous hand movements and gestures. But he was funny and a lot kinder that you would’ve given him credit for.

You learned that he was originally from Japan; it explained his accented French. He had come to Paris right out of high school to study culinary arts in one of the most renowned countries for it. Now he worked as a chocolatier, under the tutelage of a master patisserie in the city, an older man who was both a creative genius and a thorn in Tendou’s side. Tendou spoke of his teacher with equal parts awe and annoyance. 

And he got to know you too. How you’d found yourself in Paris, thousands of miles away from home in an effort to rediscover yourself in the city full of rich history and culture. 

You didn’t have many friends here, and it truly was a pleasure to make his acquaintance.

Soon, you both heard the telltale sound of jangling keys as your landlord rounded the corner with his clipboard in hand. Once you were able to get your door open, you waved a goodbye to Tendou.

“Thanks for keeping me company, you really didn’t have to.”

“No biggie, it was fun!” He threw a mischievous little grin and a peace-sign over his shoulder and reentered his apartment. 

You found yourself wanting to cross paths with him again, and hopefully in better circumstances. But you hadn't known your wishful thinking was soon to manifest as you ambled through grocery store aisles a week later, eyeing down any items with pictures on it.

“Why in the hell is this toilet paper so expensive.” You mumbled.

“So, you complain about the price of toilet paper, but wear sneakers that cost two-thirds our rent.” That voice sounded familiar, and after hearing it for about an hour just days ago, you were a bit surprised you could recognize it so quickly. 

Stunned, you looked up to find Satori Tendou, your quirky neighbor with an arm full of pita chips, a milk carton, and baby carrots.

“I never said I made the best choices.” You found yourself smiling despite the previous crease in your brow. “...Dude, get a cart before you drop everything.”

Instead of getting his own, he simply dumped what he had into your cart with a teasing grin. You couldn’t argue with his logic there. Tendou sidled up against you, once again towering over you with a kind of ease that should be criminal. “Need help reading something?”

You wanted to say no. You almost said no. But swallowing your pride, you gave a weak nod. “Yeah, this word right here.” Pointing to the unfamiliar script printed on the label. “What the heck is this?”

“Weeeeell, looks like that brand is scented, ya know, for when ya—”

“Don’t bother finishing that sentence...please.”

You quickly grab what you need and continue on down the aisle with Tendou following closely behind.

Just like when you’d first met him, he made conversation the entire way. By the time you both made it to the cash registers, you’d argued at least three times over french pronunciations and whether cashews were the cousin of peanuts.

And just as last time, he left you with a grin and a peace-sign while you stared after his retreating back, paid groceries in hand.

After an entire day spent baking, you found yourself on Tendou’s doorstep with a tupperware full of baked goodies later the next evening. You had been meaning to thank him for being such a good neighbor to you. It was certainly unexpected, but a welcome gesture nonetheless.

You only had to knock twice before the door was wrenched open and you were greeted with the set of...vanilla? Some pop song played in the background while your neighbor looked at you curiously.

"H-Hey Tendou, I um...I baked you these." You held out the plastic container, hoping he'd simply take it from you without question and you could return to your apartment without somehow embarrassing yourself. "There's a little bit of everything in there, oatmeal raisin, chocolate chip, macadamia nut—wait you aren't allergic to anything, right?"

"Nooope! Not a thing, thanks neighbor!"

"It was no problem, especially since you've helped me, not once but twice now."

Frowning, you couldn't help but be a little upset with yourself. You'd come to France to prove that you could, in fact, live a normal life outside of your family’s jurisdiction but day by day you were proving to need them more and more. 

It was disappointing, to say the least.

"Hmm, what’s with the constipated look on your face. Did the toilet paper not help?” Tendou tilted his head at you with a teasing grin, lips curled at the edges, taunting. You blinked up at him, surprised, and if you were honest, a little annoyed too. 

"Hah?!"

"Just thought it was worth a mention, nighty-night~!"

Tendou proceeded to shut the door on you; one hand rested on the frame and the other held on to the cookies. You quickly took a step back lest he chop your entire arm off, ready to trudge off in the direction of your own home but not before sticking your tongue out at him.

Stupid Tendou, always saying stupid shit. 

You were on the couch, half asleep when it dawned on you that it had been his own twisted, “Tendou” way of cheering you up. 

The rest of the month passed just like that. Occasionally, you would bump into Tendou at the grocery store, or the leasing office, or even the laundromat. And every single time, he’d either make you laugh until your sides hurt or annoyed enough to want to give him a friendly punch. At one point, you two had even exchanged phone numbers, because according to Tendou “it was ridiculous not to have your friends on speedial” which only led to hours spent on Facetime or playing iMessage games.

You knew exchanging numbers would come back to bite you in the ass, it was only a matter of when.

It was clear you weren’t going to any sleep tonight, that was for sure. The incessant buzzing of your cell phone every five minutes was an enemy to your circadian rhythm. You could name on one hand those in your contacts with enough sense to know that you lived in a completely different time zone from them now.

Somehow your neighbor was the very last person you suspected, but it was his contact photo that stared back at you, goofy looking grin and all. You squinted against the brightness of your screen in your otherwise dark bedroom.

you up?

come quick

gotta show ya somethin

come oooon

you're awake, i know you are

It took you less than a minute to shuffle on a pair of slippers, grab your keys (you weren't going to forget them this time) and slip out of your apartment.

You hadn't even knocked twice before the door was pulled open. Tendou looked a mess, more so than usual. Unidentified stains littered the apron looped around his thin waist, streaks of what you hoped were just flour and granulated sugar were all over his hands. You almost wanted to ask if he was baking or dealing dope.

“You woke me up at three in the morning...for this?”

“Yuuup!”

"When I said you could call me at any time, I really didn’t mean any time.” You scratch your side, a contemplative look on your face at the sight of Tendou in what you would assume to be his pajamas. An old volleyball hoodie with the words "Shirazorizawa" printed across the front, and old sweats the were so obviously cut with scissors at the knee.

Rolling your eyes, you mumbled a curt, “Alright, move aside.”

Tendou ushered you over to his kitchen where several of his cooking supplies laid on the island, along with a tray of some chocolate dessert spread.

“It’s all still in the testing phase, but I think I’m onto something here.”

He was definitely giving off “mad scientist” vibes. You tried not to snort.

Holding a small chocolate cake in his hand, he smiled, a genuine smile this time. "Open wide."

You obeyed, far too tired to argue, and let him pop the treat into your mouth. Tendou watched as you chewed, as if it were the most interesting thing ever. His wide gaze carefully took in every shift in your expression.

"So? Whaddya think?"

"I...," You chewed a bit more. "...It's delicious! Is that—"

"—Pistachio, why yes it is!" 

Tendou was practically bouncing on his feet with excitement. "It takes the entire thing to a whole new level."

You had to agree with him there. This was probably the best chocolate madeleine you'd ever tasted. "Great work, miracle boy. Will you be introducing this new recipe to Claude?"

Mentioning his teacher seemed to sober him up a bit. "Ehh, maybe? The old man's a bit of traditionalist, so I'll just have to figure out a way to get him to approve."

"Maybe try calling him at three in the morning?" 

Tendou stuck his tongue out at you before popping a dessert in his mouth. The pure delight on his face was so contagious, you found yourself smiling just the same. You couldn’t help but admire his passion.

“Hey, Tendou… do you like your job?”

He blinked at you, chewing coming to a slow halt. “Well of course! The pay isn’t the best just yet, but it’s a labor of love. I’m willing to put my all into it at least.”

“Huh… that’s pretty cool.” You wiped your fingers on a nearby rag. “I hope to feel the same one day… if I can figure out what I wanna do.”

“Why not bake? You’re pretty good at it.”

“Oh am I? Last week you said my baking needed some work.”

“Well, duh, but my standards when it comes to confectionaries are impossibly high. Even so, I think you’d be successful as a baker. What’s stopping you from pursuing your labor of love?”

And that was the thing with Tendou. He talked a lot, teased even more, but it was never idle ramblings. Somehow, he always seemed to hit right at the heart of the issue with almost painfully uncomfortable accuracy.

“I don’t really know so…” You looked away, trailing off.

“Either way,” he said and placed a finger under your chin, raising your head until you were looking him in the eye. “I’m rooting for you.”

For a moment, you simply stared, awestruck. It was the first time in a long while someone was actually putting their faith in you, believing in you. He had come blazing into your life unabashed with his easy grins and gaze alight with mischief. His encouraging words, sincerity, sensitivity. Tendou was really incredible.

“Tendou…” You took his hand in yours, squeezing it. “Thanks. For everything.”

“Of course, what are neighbors for.”

BONUS:

Three months later you sat curled up next to Tendou on his sofa, his entire apartment smelled of chocolate cocoa with hints of cinnamon.

Before you was an application. Culinary school.

“You really think I can do this?”

Tendou placed his head on your shoulder with a tiny smirk. “One hundred and twenty percent!”

You pondered for a moment, then decided that if he thought you were up for the challenge then you’d believe him.

“For the record, you probably aren’t supposed to recommend your girlfriend for an interview. You know, conflict of interest and all.”

Tendou laughed and pulled you closer. “Trust me, we’ll be fine, so don’t worry your pretty little head, ‘kay?”

[emospritelet]

Manifesto - chapter 10

It's been 84 years...

Last time, Sutherland convinced Belle to join in with a Government consultation. Cue snark and UST

[AO3]

-

Belle stared at Sutherland, her pulse thumping at the base of her throat as she met his eyes. He had that tiny smile on his face, his eyes glinting, and she licked her lips nervously.

“I - I didn’t think you’d be here,” she said lamely, and he pushed upright.

“Well, it is my house,” he said. “After a fashion.”

“No, I didn’t mean…” She closed her eyes, swallowed, and opened them again. “I just meant I didn’t think you’d concern yourself with a consultation, that’s all. I - I thought it might be one of your Ministers.”

“Ordinarily I wouldn’t,” he agreed, reaching for the coffee. “But we’ve decided to give this policy more priority, and given that it’s a cross-government initiative, I thought I’d show face.”

“Right,” she said weakly. “Great.”

“Oh, I won’t be here for the whole thing,” he added. “I suspect I’ll leave after lunch. Coffee?”

“Thank you.”

Belle looked around the table, spying pieces of folded card printed with names marking each place. She read over the names, trying to find her own.

“You’re here,” said Sutherland, placing both hands on the back of one of the chairs and pulling it out. “Please. Take a seat.”

For a moment she was frozen in place, but then she lifted her chin, stalking around the table and sitting down. He pushed her chair in, and she murmured her thanks, squeezing her thighs together as he reached over her shoulder and grasped a cup and saucer between thumb and forefinger, slowly pulling it over until it was in front of her. Belle watched the movement of his hand: long, tanned fingers above a perfectly white shirt cuff, and wanted to sigh. Nope. Still fancy him. Dammit!

“I trust your journey here wasn’t too tiring,” he said, crossing to the chair opposite the door and taking a seat.

“It was fine,” she said automatically.

“And the accommodation?” he went on. “I’m sure Anna arranged something suitable.”

“Yes, it’s - uh - lovely.”

He nodded, reaching for his own coffee, and Belle glanced down at the table. There was a folder of documents in front of her, a close-up picture of a smiling multiracial group of people with their arms around each other in front of a gleaming modern building of steel and glass. Shaping a Stronger Society was written in yellow font on a dark blue background. Belle opened the folder to reveal a sheaf of documents, the day’s agenda lying uppermost.

“I’m afraid it’s going to be a long day,” said Sutherland, making her jump. “We’ll do our best to keep you lubricated. There’s plenty more coffee, if you need it.”

Belle automatically took a sip of her own coffee, and was spared the ordeal of making conversation by the door opening to reveal Anna. She was followed by several men and women in suits, and there was a buzz of conversation as introductions were made and seating places indicated. Belle smiled at the man who was directed to sit next to her. He looked a little out of place in his tweed jacket with elbow patches, glasses perched on his nose and red hair curling back from a high forehead. Belle read his nameplate.

“Dr Archibald Hopper,” she said. “Are you an academic?”

“Oh, Archie, please,” he said, with a warm smile. “And yes, I was a practising psychiatrist for many years. More recently I’ve been teaching at Cambridge, so that and research take up most of my time.”

Belle sat up excitedly.

“Oh! I studied at Cambridge,” she said happily. “So of course I have to say there’s no finer university for you to be teaching at.”

“Well, I certainly won’t argue with that,” he said with a smile. “And everyone knows who you are. A modern day freedom fighter for literacy, which is an excellent cause. Miss French, I believe.”

“Belle’s fine,” said Belle, with a grin. “What’s your interest in this?”

“I’ve been studying the psychological impact of poverty and deprivation and its links to poor health and other life chances,” he said earnestly. “I think your interests and mine probably overlap.”

“I should think they probably do,” said Belle. “Although I imagine your credentials are somewhat more impressive than mine.”

“On the contrary,” said Archie. “You have experience in the field, as it were. I’d certainly be interested in hearing your perspective on the literacy programmes you’ve introduced.”

“You heard about that?” she asked, surprised, and he smiled.

“There were a number of pieces in the press after your - ah - meeting with the Prime Minister,” he said. “I understand you’ve created a useful community resource built around literacy for all ages.”

Belle opened her mouth to explain what she was doing, but was cut off by Sutherland clearing his throat.

“Right, well, good morning everyone,” he said, leaning on the table and glancing around at the occupants. “We have a full schedule, and I’m sure you all want to make the most of it, so I won’t be doing the creeping death of introductions around the table, as you’re no doubt relieved to hear. We can save the obligatory networking for the tea breaks.”

There was an appreciative chuckle from the attendees.

“You all have a pack of documents in front of you,” he went on. “This contains information on everyone here, including interests and expertise. I’m pleased to see such a range of talent around this table, and I’m excited to see what we can achieve together. I know you all take the development of this policy as seriously as I do.”

Belle found herself nodding along with the others. Sutherland certainly knew how to command attention.

“The documents also set out some of the initial research provided by the government departments leading on this policy,” he said. “Of course you all have your own experience, and no doubt your own sources to bring to the table. I fully expect this to be a challenging session with a lot of strong opinions being aired, but I’m confident that we can avoid too much bloodshed.”

There was a ripple of laughter, but Sutherland’s eyes lingered on Belle a little longer than the others. She met his gaze steadily, hoping she wouldn’t blush.

“You might well be wondering why I’m here,” he added, looking around. “The Shaping a Stronger Society policy will fulfil several key campaign pledges and lay the groundwork for lasting change. I thought it right that I give it the high profile it deserves, particularly when it cuts across so many Government departments. We need to be presenting a united front on this.”

“I’m sure the fact that it’s election year is a happy coincidence,” remarked a woman with a white-blonde bob over dark roots. Belle read her nameplate: Ella Deville-Waters. Sutherland grinned.

“Well, you know what they say, Ella,” he said. “Politics is eighty percent timing, ten percent luck—”

“And ten percent knowing how to lie with a straight face,” drawled Ella, making everyone chuckle.

“Thought that was at least sixty percent,” muttered Belle, and Archie laughed and managed to turn it into a cough.

“Let’s get started,” said Sutherland, glancing at Belle again. “I know there are a few of you with presentations to give on your own areas of interest, and I’m assured the technology is working, so I’ll hand things over to each of you. Anna, could you help Miss French set up the first presentation?”

Belle blinked rapidly.

“Me?” she said weakly, and Sutherland smiled.

“Gets it out of the way, hmm?”

She supposed it would.

-

Standing up in front of a sea of expectant faces turned towards her, Belle momentarily wanted to run from the room. Once she started speaking and concentrated on her passion for the subject, however, she forgot that she was presenting to a bunch of politicians and academics in Downing Street. The fifteen minutes she had been allotted went by more quickly than she thought possible, and prompted a number of questions that she was able to answer easily. She sat down with a thump next to Archie afterwards, feeling an odd mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration, and he sent her a reassuring smile before turning his attention to the next speaker, Ella Deville-Waters. It turned out that she was Undersecretary for Education, and she spoke eloquently about the importance of early years learning.

There were other presentations, each followed by an opportunity for questions, the final talk being given by Archie. Belle scribbled notes as he spoke, and made a note of the papers he referenced; they sounded like something she would be interested in reading at a later date. When the questions were finished, Sutherland announced that they would break for coffee, and Belle felt herself sigh in relief. She was surprised to see that it was eleven-thirty already; the morning was almost over.

The rest of the day went reasonably well and the group generated some robust discussion; despite Sutherland having said he would be leaving after lunch, he showed no sign of doing so, and took the lead in steering the conversation. There was general agreement on the merits of expanding opportunities for all, and the desired outcome of the policy. Disagreements arose when it came to discussing how to get there. There was a frank exchange of views between Belle, Ella, and the brusque Sir George King, who worked for the Treasury. He seemed to take any suggestion that money would have to be spent as a personal affront. Anna had to step in and smooth things over more than once, and Belle could feel her patience draining away as the day drew towards evening. The draft call for evidence that was produced was the last straw.

“This doesn’t go nearly far enough,” she said bluntly, lifting the paper and dropping it on the table. “The questions skirt around the real issues, and there’s no meat on the bones of this thing. Whatever responses you get won’t address what we’ve been talking about all day. It’s papering over the cracks at best.”

“This is merely a scoping document,” said Sutherland mildly. “And a first draft at that. You can’t expect the policy to be fully-formed at this stage.”

“No, but if this is the direction we’re being nudged in, the whole thing is pointless,” she said. “How can you expect us to even start to make a difference if you refuse to fund it properly?”

Sutherland took off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“We’ve been over this, Miss French,” he said, sounding weary. “Budget constraints—”

“Yes we have been over this, and as I’ve said, budget constraints only ever seem to apply to policies that benefit the many over the few,” she said tartly. “Your Government may have managed to sweep the whole Pennine Consortium debacle under the rug a couple of years ago, but I remember the reports about the amount of public money that was being poured into that project, and it turned out to be going into the back pockets of the Home Secretary’s relatives!”

“Paying out according to contractual agreements is normal practice in business, I believe,” he said, in a bored voice. “The matter was investigated and the Home Secretary was cleared of all wrongdoing, as I’m sure you’re aware. ”

“My point is that billions were paid out for defence contracts with no questions being raised about whether they were affordable.”

“Clearly you didn’t watch the Select Committee hearings,” he remarked. His voice was a flat drawl that was doing nothing to stop her rising irritation.

“They were held after the money had been spent, not before, that’s my point!”

“And of course the purchase of tanks is entirely analogous to the development of literacy programmes.”

“I’d argue that the purchase of tanks is of decidedly lower value, actually,” she said.

“Then it’s a good thing you don’t have to make these decisions, isn’t it?”

Anna cleared her throat.

“Perhaps we can get back to the matter at hand?” she suggested. “Ella, what were you saying about school opening hours?”

“Oh, we can talk about that later,” said Ella cheerfully, waving a hand. “I’d much rather listen to this argument.”

“No one’s arguing,” said Sutherland coolly. “Miss French has a passionate nature, it seems.”

“Thanks, that’s not at all patronising,” said Belle, in a dry tone.

“Passion for public service is to be commended,” he said, matching her tone. “I thought I was giving you a compliment.”

“No you didn’t.”

Sutherland fixed her with a dark-eyed stare, his mouth flat. It was strangely arousing, and she could feel her breathing quicken. She told herself it was irritation.

“Your input here is valued, Miss French,” he said, his jaw a little clenched. “But I’d be grateful if you would allow us to guide you through this process, given that you know nothing about the way Government works.”

“No, I don’t,” she agreed, losing the last of her patience. “I don’t know about policy-making and contract negotiation and tendering and public procurement. And likewise I’d say you and most of the people that work for you don’t know what it’s like to worry about where the next meal is coming from.”

“Which is why we’re seeking the input of a wide range of stakeholders such as yourself.” He was trying for a smooth tone, but his eyes were flashing, and she could sense he was getting as annoyed as she.

“If you’re not prepared to listen to us, then it’s all empty gestures, isn’t it?” she protested.

“Wanting your input and allowing you to set the parameters of this thing are two entirely different things,” he said coldly. “I’m sorry if your expectations are out of step with reality.”

“There’s a lot of that going around.”

“Right!” said Anna briskly, slapping the table and making everyone jump. “That seems like a good place to break until tomorrow. It’s been a long day and I’m sure everyone could do with some fresh air.”

“Could do with a stiff drink, I don’t know about the rest of you,” said Ella, and there were appreciative murmurs from the others.

Belle sat back in her seat, listening with half an ear as chairs scraped back and papers were gathered up. Sutherland had already gone, stalking out of the room, and the others were throwing curious glances at her as they pulled on coats and drained cups.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Belle,” said Archie, tucking his folder of papers into a battered brown leather bag. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re right about the scope being too narrow.”

She gave him a grateful look, and a smile, and he ducked his head a little and sauntered out. Belle sighed, toying with the cold cup of tea in front of her as the others began to file out. She felt drained, wrung out. Was this what it was like every day for politicians? She wondered how they coped. Maybe it was why so many seemed to go grey so quickly.

“You settling in for the night?”

Anna’s voice made her look up, and Belle realised they were alone.

“Sorry, I was miles away,” she said. “I feel as though my brain’s been scrambled and stuffed back in my head all wrong.”

“Welcome to Whitehall,” said Anna, in a deadpan tone, and Belle giggled.

“Sorry for letting my temper get the better of me at the end,” she said. “I’m not cut out for politics, it seems.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Anna. “You have the ability to see to the heart of things. He wasn’t joking when he said your input is valued, you know.”

Belle sighed, running her hands over her face.

“It just - it feels like I’m wasting my time here,” she said. “I know I don’t have much longer before the library has to close, and - and yet I’m down here in London, in what seems like a hopeless uphill battle! Maybe I should just go back to Avonleigh and try to do what little good I can.”

“You may have longer than you think,” said Anna, gathering up some papers. “The Prime Minister approved a scheme for local authorities a few days ago. It offers grants to support providers of breakfast clubs and after-school learning.”

Belle sat up.

“Like the library?” she asked, and Anna shrugged.

“Seems likely, doesn’t it?” she said. “Oh, we’ve made sure that local authorities have to use it for the intended purpose, by the way. The scheme is due to launch next week. I’d keep my eyes peeled to the website, if I were you.”

She put the papers in a leather satchel and took out another folder before slinging the satchel over one shoulder. Belle was smiling, her heart swelling with what felt like hope for the first time in months.

“A reprieve for the library?” she said. “And it was his idea?”

“Like I said.” Anna hitched the satchel on her shoulder. “He does listen. You might not think so, but he does.”

“Listening’s all very well,” said Belle. “It’s the choices that are made that are the issue.”

“There isn’t always a choice,” said Anna firmly. “Or at least, not one a Prime Minister can make.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Difficult decisions have to be made,” she added. “Sometimes hundreds each day. Everything’s urgent, everything has an impact, and he tries his best to make the right call based on the information given by people he trusts. He doesn’t always get it right. No one could.”

“Maybe not, but—”

“He has to balance fifty competing interests with almost every decision he makes,” she went on. “The papers turn on a dime and whoever’s lauded one week gets pilloried the next. Everyone around him is looking to him to lead and half of them are willing him to fail so that they can step into the spotlight. I won’t let that happen if I can help it.”

She picked up the folder of papers, turning on her heel.

“I’ll show you out,” she said over her shoulder. “I expect you’ll want an early night after today. Or a large drink. Or both.”

“You care about him,” said Belle, and Anna stopped dead before slowly turning back to face her.

“Yes,” she said simply. “He’s a good friend. And whether or not you believe it, Miss French, he’s a good man.”

Belle was silent for a moment.

“I haven’t made up my mind on that score,” she said eventually.

“Oh, I didn’t say he wasn’t a stubborn bloody pain in the arse at times,” added Anna. “He’s definitely that.”

Belle couldn’t help giggling.

“Well, bearing all that in mind, and in the interests of cooperation,” she said. “I suppose I really ought to apologise for snapping at him.”

Something in Anna seemed to relax at her words, and she smiled again.

“He’s used to being snapped at,” she said dismissively. “He gets far worse in the Commons, let’s face it. But an apology would probably make him more inclined to listen to you, so I certainly won’t stand in your way.”

Belle nodded agreement, and Anna jerked her head towards the door.

“I was going to take these reports to him before I head off,” she said, holding up the folder. “If you felt like going there now, I’d be happy to tell him you want to have a word.”

Belle hesitated, but nodded, and Anna smiled briefly and headed for the door. The interior of Downing Street was busier than Belle had expected at that time in the evening, aides hurrying with laptops and drinks and phones clasped to their ears. Anna led her down a wide, thickly-carpeted corridor and paused outside a heavy office door, where two Special Branch officers nodded to Anna and eyed Belle suspiciously before stepping aside. Anna rapped smartly on the door, and Belle heard a muffled bid to enter from behind it. She could feel her heart thumping in trepidation, and when the door opened she could see a room with a high ceiling, dark green carpet and a dresser in dark, polished wood where several cut crystal decanters sat, their contents gleaming in shades of amber and ruby. There were two leather armchairs and a couch around a coffee table in the same dark wood. Bookshelves stretched around two walls of the room, and Sutherland was sitting behind a heavy desk opposite the door, scribbling something. His eyes narrowed as they met Belle’s, but Anna walked forward, cutting off his view.

“Brought you those updates on the infrastructure options,” she said breezily, holding up the files. “If you want to go through them later let me know. I thought I’d go and get something to eat.”

“So I know why you’re in my office,” he said evenly, sitting back and putting down his pen. “Not too clear on the presence of Miss French. Unless she thought of something else she wanted to call me.”

“Actually I’m here to apologise,” said Belle, making his brows lift in surprise. “So I’m not about to insult you unless you start something.”

Sutherland’s mouth worked, as though he was trying not to laugh.

“Uh - thank you, Anna,” he said, glancing away. “Yes, go and get some dinner. I think Miss French and I can have a conversation without it coming to blows.”

“Good,” said Anna. “Behave.”

Belle was unsure who that last comment was directed at, but Anna left the room before she could ask, shutting the door behind her with a click. She turned slowly on her toes to face Sutherland, who was leaning back in his chair and tapping his papers with a pen, staring at her.

“Anna told me about the local authority grants for educational services,” she said. “That should help a lot more libraries stay open.”

“That’s the idea,” he said, with a shrug.

“Providing librarians know it’s available, of course,” she added.

“There’ll be an announcement when it’s launched,” he said. “Of course there’s nothing to stop you contacting your peers and explaining the process.”

“I guess not.” She fiddled with a button on her jacket before smoothing her hand against her skirt. “What made you change the policy on local grants?”

“I didn’t,” he said abruptly. “Just provided - clarification around eligibility.”

Belle took a step forward, until she was almost touching the desk.

“Well, that clarification should mean I won’t be closing the library doors this year,” she said. “Lucky for me, hmm?”

“Surprising as it may seem,” he remarked. “I do actually take into account the views of interested parties when making decisions. Where I can.”

“Hmm.” Belle leaned on the desk, pursing her lips. “Well, I’m sorry for yelling at you. I don’t like losing my temper and I try not to if I can help it.”

There was a tiny, amused grin on his face.

“A pity,” he said. “It was rather refreshing.”

“Yeah, well it wasn’t all that satisfying from my perspective,” she said. “Dealing with politicians is making me more cynical than I’d like to be.”

He gave her a twisted little smile.

“Well, that’s no bad thing,” he said. “The moment you start wanting to be cynical it’s probably time to run screaming for the hills.”

“At nine this morning I almost did run screaming,” she admitted, and he chuckled.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” he said. “I enjoyed your presentation. It was delivered with your usual passion, and I think you may have brought some of the others on board.”

“I think Sir George King would rather I’d stayed at home,” she said, and Sutherland shrugged.

“If it was up to him we wouldn’t spend any money at all,” he said. “On the whole, today went rather well, I thought. No physical blows were exchanged, and there was almost no profanity. One of the more sedate policy meetings I’ve attended, truth be told.”

Belle smiled.

“We’re all here for the common good, I suppose,” she said. “Although in some cases I’m not sure how much common good they’re really interested in doing.”

“First rule of policy-making,” he said. “Try not to kill off half your contributors in a fit of righteous anger. Tempting though it is.”

“Hmm.” She was amused. “I don’t remember reading that one in the welcome pack.”

“Unwritten rule,” he corrected, raising a finger. “I think the pack said some bollocks about understanding motivation and managing expectations.”

Belle bit back a grin.

“I guess I’m not cut out for a career in diplomacy,” she said, and he smiled.

“Gets easier the more you do it.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Well, thank goodness you’ll believe one thing that comes out of my mouth.”

It was said in a dry tone, but he was still grinning, and she returned the smile. There was a moment of silence, and he pushed up from the desk, crossing to the dresser.

“I was going to have a drink,” he said. “May I offer you one? There’s whisky, port, brandy… If that’s not to your taste I could easily have something brought in.”

“Uh - okay.” Belle was beginning to feel as though she had stepped into a strange parallel universe, where small town librarians sat and drank with the leaders of nations as a matter of course. “Thank you. I’ll take a brandy.”

“Excellent choice,” he said vaguely, and opened one of the doors of the dresser, taking out two brandy glasses.

Belle watched as he reached for one of the decanters and poured two small measures. His suit pants fitted him very well, skimming his rear as he moved. She shook her head, telling herself to stop ogling the man. Sutherland turned, glasses in hand, and nodded towards the armchairs.

“Take a seat,” he said.

Still feeling as though she was dreaming, Belle took the glass he held out and sat down, crossing her legs and watching as he put down his glass and lowered himself into the seat opposite. She took a sip of her brandy to take her mind off how good he looked, and how much better he might look if he lost the tie and unfastened the first few buttons of that crisp white shirt. The brandy was very good, far better than she was used to, and she licked her lips, enjoying the taste of caramel and spice and the pleasant heat on her tongue. Sutherland took a drink, sucking in his cheeks and setting down his glass on the coffee table. He looked tired.

“Are your work days usually this long?” she asked, and his eyebrows flicked upwards.

“It’s barely six-thirty,” he said. “I still have a few hours left in me.”

“Doesn’t sound like much of a work-life balance,” she observed. Sutherland pulled a face.

“Gets a little quieter at recess, but no, I don’t suppose it is,” he said.

“Are you married?” she asked, and Sutherland shook his head.

“Divorced.”

“Oh,” said Belle. “I’m sorry.”

“No no, it’s fine,” he said, sitting back. “It was amicable. We’re still friends.”

“Oh.”

“She’s engaged to a High Court judge now,” he added. “I wish her every happiness.”

“Oh.” For God’s sake, Belle, say something intelligent. “You have kids?”

“A daughter,” he said. “Grown up now. Early twenties.”

“Oh.”

Sutherland took a drink, seeming to savour the taste of brandy on his tongue before swallowing. His gaze was steady, his eyes dark, and she could feel faint stirrings of desire in her lower abdomen. She looked down into her brandy glass, watching the ripples in the amber liquid and telling herself to snap out of her crush.

“What about you?” he asked then, making her look up. “You married? Children?”

“You mean you didn’t have me checked out?” she asked dryly, and he shrugged.

“Maybe you’re good at hiding things,” he said. “Or, as is more likely, Anna told me and I forgot about it.”

Belle bit back a smile.

“Well, hiding a husband and children would be beyond me,” she said. “Luckily I have no need. No family. Well, there’s my dad back in Melbourne, but apart from that I’m on my own.”

“No large, intimidating boyfriend?” he asked. “Or maybe a girlfriend, what do I know?”

“Neither,” she said. “Last relationship was pretty crappy, to be honest. Made me want to take a break for a while.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “I understand.”

“I thought you said you were on good terms with your ex.”

“Well…” He waved a hand. “I vaguely remember what it was like to be young. Aeons ago.”

She scoffed.

“Come on, you’re not that old.”

“Bloody feels like it, sometimes,” he grumbled.

“Well, that’s what comes from running the country,” she said pertly. “It’s why I stick to running a library.”

“No doubt that comes with its own stresses.”

“Only when I’m threatened with closure by arrogant, shortsighted politicians,” she quipped, and he snorted in amusement.

“Well, thank fuck there aren’t many of those around.”

Belle giggled before catching herself, and he was grinning as he leaned further back in his chair. His eyes gleamed when he smiled, and she couldn’t decide whether it was more or less arousing than when he was angry. A dangerous path for your thoughts to take, Belle.

“Did you say your daughter was in her twenties?” she said, trying to steer the conversation onto a safe topic. “Is she at university?”

“No no, she’s finished studying,” he said. “She’s started work in the City. Not in politics, thank God.”

“You wouldn’t want her to go into politics?” she asked, and he wrinkled his nose.

“I don’t think she’d be happy,” he said. “It can be a lonely, painful existence, and you make as many enemies as friends. Probably more, if I’m honest. She has a gentle heart, and I wouldn’t want to see her harden it to survive.”

“It seems a shame that people have to,” said Belle. “I think politicians could stand to be more compassionate, not less.”

Sutherland took another sip of his drink, eyeing her as he licked an amber bead of brandy from his lower lip.

“I’m sure you’re right,” he said. “Alas, we have to deal with the world as it is, not as we might want it to be.”

“So why did you decide it was what you wanted to do?” she asked. “Did you always want to end up running the country?”

“No, I can’t say it was a childhood dream,” he admitted. “I started out as a barrister. The politician wasn’t born until I was in my late thirties.”

“So why politics?” she asked. “I’m guessing it wasn’t for the money.”

Sutherland pulled a wry face, taking another drink.

“I was earning more at the bar, certainly,” he said. “Far better work-life balance, as well.”

“Ego, then?” she suggested, and he grinned.

“That was certainly part of it.”

Belle waited, and he sighed, turning the brandy glass between his hands.

“Would you believe me if I said I thought I could make things better?” he asked.

“My new-found cynicism wouldn’t,” she remarked, and he chuckled.

“To the tragic death of innocence.”

He raised his glass in a mock toast, and Belle grinned, raising her own before sipping her brandy. The drink was almost gone, and she found herself regretting having drunk it so quickly. She would have to leave as soon as it was done, and to her great surprise she was enjoying their conversation.

“Do you think you have?” she asked. “Made things better?”

Sutherland hesitated, turning the glass between his fingers.

“I suppose it’s a work in progress,” he said. “But I’m trying. Perhaps not in the ways you would want me to.”

“I don’t suppose what I think matters,” she said, and he shook his head.

“You might be surprised at what matters to me, Miss French.”

He took another sip of his brandy, his eyes fixed on hers, and she could feel herself shiver. She drained her glass, setting it down on the table with a loud clink.

“Well,” she said, a little breathlessly. “I should go. I feel as though I’ve been wrung dry and turned inside out, and I could really use some sleep before I have to do it all again tomorrow.”

He smiled at that, setting his glass beside hers.

“In that case, I’ll show you out. Anna will expect me to have read those papers by the time she gets back.”

“She seems very committed to her job,” observed Belle, and he grinned.

“Couldn’t do my own without her,” he said. “I need someone to keep me in line.”

“I won’t argue with that,” she remarked, and he chuckled, a deep laugh that made her belly clench.

“I can see why she likes you,” he said, and strode to the door, opening it up and nodding to the Special Branch officers outside. “Good evening, Miss French. It’s a pleasure to be working with you.”

Belle nodded, slipping from the room and heading back along the corridor. A smiling woman with a dark ponytail and a brisk manner showed her out, and she stepped into the street with a sigh of relief. The press pack had gone, and she walked down towards the gates, smiling thanks to the police officer that let her out into the street beyond. It had been a long day, there was another to come, and her crush on the Prime Minister was developing into full-blown lust.

[fu-aki]

Chapter 5

So this is going to be my attempt to summarize part 1 of the beginning part of chapter 5 (episode 1 to 21) of twisted wonderland.

Again, spoiler alert since I’m about to write out everything that happened, and I apologize for my grammar and horrible French in advance.

 You heard someone singing -> it was the scenes from snow white when the evil queen asks the mirror on the wall and snow white singing into the well  -> player choice: a beautiful women was watching from the window…/ I felt like I’ve meet that beautiful person before… -> you woke up from dream -> in the main street, you meet up with Ace and Deuce -> after seeing the statue you realized you’ve seen them in your dreams before

In classroom -> Ace felt it wasn’t weird to have dreams like that when you see those statues everyday -> you mentioned about in your dream “mickey” appeared in the mirror -> Ace and Deuce never heard of that name before -> Ace suggest to take a photo of it with the “ghost camera” you got from Crowley since it can even take pictures of ghosts

Crewel showed up and explained about “nationwide sorcerer training school culture festival” -> it’s a 2 day event with representative students from all the sorcerer training school, a festival with speeches and debates all about magic related music & art topics -> for NRC, all the 4th year students will be send all across country for internship and research study -> they will all come back on that day to share their experience and result -> end of the homeroom -> fight Crewel for the defense magic class

In the dorm leader meeting -> Malleus is not there again -> Lilia mentions how he couldn’t find Malleus anymore after class so he’s here instead -> Idia questions if Malleus is missing meetings on purpose -> Lilia talked about how fairies feels time different from humans, and how Malleus have some troublesome karma on him as well

The meeting starts -> Riddle started reporting everything about the event -> but the “vocal & dance championship” has surprising amount of media focused on it -> Riddle was surprised since he thought it was just a chorus competition -> because of the time change and consideration for different types of music, now it includes singing, dancing, and performance -> and because of how popular it got, it becomes one chance for students to professionally debut -> and now it’s getting extra notice because the famous influencer Vil and Neige are in it -> Lilia commented how Neige is getting really popular online and on TV -> Idia surprised that people in Diasomnia actually go online -> Lilia “kuhuhu, of course, we are still just students in high school, we watch dramas and play games.” -> Crowley “Vila and Neige, 2 world known famous celebrity are going to appear in VDC, it won’t be an exaggeration to call it the highest degree of attention we are going to get in this event.” -> Crowley ask Riddle to make preparation in case of troubles -> Azul offered to help since he learned all about it from magic shift event -> Leona “hey octopus bastard… do you want your flappy tongue to turn into dried food or what?” -> Azul “oh my how scary” -> Riddle refused Azul’s help since he don’t want Azul ask for something later -> Kalim “just tell us if something is bothering you, we’ll help you anytime.”

-> Kalim “I can’t wait for the day of festival~!” ->  Idia “sign~~~… the popular guys just looks so happy everyday. I had to think about the day to announce our research result… if I just step on stage, everyone would be like ‘hey isn’t his hair burning?’ ‘could he be Shroud family’s…’ ‘what kind of dark research is he doing?’ aah I can’t… for person like me to do a speech on stage is just challenge level EX.” -> Riddle mentioned how the rules said student have to go on stage themselves and offer to train Idia for speech after school -> Idia said he’ll manage something himself (whispering) “I really don’t wanna have a farming event with demonic trainer Riddle.” -> end of meeting

In Vil’s room -> Vil “Mira, Mira” -> Mira “what can I help you with?” -> Vil “who is the fairest of them all right now?” -> Mira “the account with the most mention of fair in web currently is… Neige.” -> Vil “Neige…! Finally… this time have arrived.” -> Mira “sorry, I couldn’t quite hear you. Could you please repeat what you said?”

Few days later in cafeteria -> Ace, Deuce, Grim, and you saw the poster for the VDC audition -> the reward for wining the championship is 5 million Madollar to spilt among the members -> Crowley popped up and explained many corporation sponsored this event -> Grim wanted to join for the money so he can buy tuna cans

The song for audition is “piece of my world” -> Ace wanted to try so if he got accepted he don’t need to help set up the places anymore -> Deuce wanted the reward money to help his family -> but he never did singing or dancing before so he didn’t want to join ->

In courtyard you heard someone singing beautifully -> you saw Epel ->Deuce remembered the time he bumped into Epel last chapter -> He asked Epel why is he practice singing here -> it was because Vil told Epel to practice singing to the well so Epel can hear his voice clearly -> Deuce “does Pomefiore have some rules where you have to be good at singing?” -> it was because Epel has to take the audition for VDC and practice for a more lovely voice -> Epel (whisper) “event like that should just disappear…” -> “oh my Epel, are you skipping practice and talking with pigeons now?” -> it was Vil -> Grim “that guy’s leg looks like it’s 1 meter longer than MC’s!” -> Vil “there’s only 2 month left till VDC, Epel have no times play with muddy potatoes like you people.” -> “Epel, you too, if this keep going on you won’t be able to become the ‘red poisoned apple’ let’s go.” -> Epel “…But I actully don’t!” -> Vil “did you forgot the promise with me? Just come here already.” -> Ace and Grim was pretty mad and wanted to fight -> Vil “It’s not bad for a walk after meal. Come at me, I’ll make you into mashed potato.” -> fight time -> you are beat up by Vil -> and he only gives you 5/100 for the fight since you lacked the beauty when fighting -> Epel has to go back with Vil and Vil mentioned how it ends up like this because Epel skipped practice in break

The next day -> Deuce decided to try the audition -> so if they are accepted, Epel might got eliminated and don’t need to practice anymore -> Deuce “as a honor student, I can’t just watch him being forced into the things he don’t like.” -> Ace “I don’t think it’s very honor student of you to call yourself honor student.” -> dance practice time

Kalim and Jamil showed up practice for audition too -> Kalim “honestly you guys are pretty bad at this, you look like a panicked elephant trying to stand on 2 legs! Ahhaha!” -> Deuce “man this really hurts when he’s not even try to be mean.” -> Ace asked Jamil to teach them how to dance -> Kalim “oh sure! Jamil is really good at singing.” -> Jamil “why are you replying for me! … well it is also review for me when I’m teaching someone, fine I’ll do it.” -> teaching time -> Kalim “hey, how about we practice together tomorrow too? Jamil is really good at singing, we’ll show you.” -> Jamil “! You just decided that yourself too…!” -> Kalim “it’ll be fine, besides isn’t it more fun when you have more people for dancing, singing, or partying?” -> Jamil “fine, just don’t expect me to be so kind.” -> Jamil “for now, let’s just clean up, take some mops from the storage room -> Deuce, Ace, Kalim “okay.” -> Jamil “Kalim, you don’t have to do it… sigh.”

Azul showed up -> Grim mentioned how Jamil’s evil plan was streamed worldwide last chapter.” -> Azul “why do you think the merciful me would end my classmate societal life like that?” -> Jamil “…you would.” -> that day Azul was just on phone with Jade -> Azul “different from Leona, I don’t have an interest to beat down someone more than necessary, besides it’s a secret that I’ve finally got, I won’t do anything to make the price fall like that.” -> Jamil “hate to say it, but thanks to Azul’s mercifulness, my parents and Asim family didn’t know the real reason I overblot. But the dorm students…”

Flashback -> Scarabia students questioned why Kalim don’t change the vice dorm leader after what happened

-> Kalim “are you guys worried about me? Thank you! But… he was not the only one wrong this time, I’m also at fault. Besides, is there anyone in Scarabia that have not received help from Jamil?” -> student “that, that is true… if there’s something going wrong we would always just ask him…” -> Kalim “I know right? He is an excellent vice dorm leader. A lot better than me, the dorm leader. His judgements might be clouded back then, but he is still great at his work. He did try to expel me by manipulating you guys but… up till that incident, he has never hurt me even once before. He has many chances to do other much more horrible things to me, but he didn’t. Not once, in 17 years. I won’t call him a good guy but… it’s hard to explain but would you please give us more times?” -> students “…if that’s what you said so…” -> Jamil “…”  -> end of flashback -> Jamil “the chance I had for holiday was once in a lifetime, thought my life would be over if I failed, but in the end it didn’t change that much… surely something to be ‘grateful’ for. So unless I’m fired by Kalim, I’ll continue to serve him. And I’ll continue to show everyone how useful I am.” -> Grim “Jamil… your character really changed a lot after the holiday.” -> Azul “if you are fired by Kalim, Octavinelle will always welcome people like you with open arms.” -> Jamil “thank you for the offer, but no matter what happened I would never go to Octavinelle.” -> Kalim “Hey you guys~ if we don’t head out soon we are gonna be late for class!”

3 days later -> everyone is getting better at dancing and singing -> Jamil reminded them to sign up for audition with Rook in class 3-A -> Grim saw Leona and called out to him -> Leona: angry lion noises -> Grim asked where is Rook Hunt -> Leona “why are you trying to find that weird guy.” -> Rook suddenly popped up from behind -> Rook “hahaha, did I surprised you? Pardon. Conceal my footstep sound was a habit I had. I am Rook Hunt. The hunter of love that set his life theme as looking for beauty, helping beauty.” -> Leona “tsk, there it is, that weird guy.” -> Rook asked where is monsieur dandelion -> Leona “no way we are together 24/7, just take those herbivores and go.” -> Deuce questioned who is monsieur dandelion -> it was Ruggie -> the reason why Rook calls him that is because last spring, Rook saw Ruggie picking dandelion in the sports field. Ruggie plans to eat those since his budget is a little tight this month -> so Rook calls him monsieur dandelion out of respect -> Leona “that guy… is he really fine with eating everything that’s not rotten? He didn’t make me eat dandelions too, right…?” -> Rook “non non, it’s not poison, it’s not good to be picky like that lord lion.” -> Ace brought up the audition for VDC, we almost forgot about that because of what happened -> Rook “I apologize, so you guys are, human species Ace Trappola, height 172cm, from class 1-A with student number 25. Human species Deuce Spade, height 173cm, from the same class 1-A with student number 24. And human species MC with demon beast species Grim, height 70cm. right?”

-> Deuce “how did you know our class and student number!?” -> Ace “and even height too!?” -> Rook “huhuhu. As a hunter, I have to at least know the species and heights about the students.” -> there’s no need to write anything to sign up, you only need to show up to the audition 3 days later in Pomefiore’s ballroom -> Rook ask why don’t Leona try for the auditions too -> Leona “who would go to a game event like that, besides, that annoying Vil is also there. I would never go.” -> Rook “the Vil with the beauty of metropolis, and Leona kun with the beauty of wilderness. If both of you dances and sings together it would definitely be beautiful. The competition between different types of beauty, it’s just tres bien!” -> Leona “this guy really doesn’t listen to other people at all…”

3 days later -> in Pomrfiore dorm lounge, you saw around 50 students who’s also trying for audition -> Cater was also one of it -> since he wanted to go to the event with the famous celebrity Vil -> Ace “isn’t that reason a little too light hearted?” -> Cater “really? I thought everyone is like that, I mean look.”

-> pointed at Ruggie who’s clearly here for money -> Lilia popped up again -> you recognized him as the person who handed you the holiday card -> Grim “he wasn’t the sender?” -> Lilia “the initials are different from mine right?” -> Lilia is here since he’s in light music club and it just makes sense for him to try -> he tried to invite Malleus too but he said he don’t want it to become the exhibition of some kind so he refused -> Lilia “that guy is kind of shy” -> Cater “I feels like that’s a little bit different from shy…” -> Lilia asked why didn’t Cater brought Trey along -> Cater tried but Trey has to help Riddle with all the works

they saw Ortho by himself for audition too and was surprised -> Ace commented on how Ortho looks like an elementary school student -> Cater said Ortho is accepted into this school with Idia, and they always take classes together -> Grim “how much of a brothercon is Idia…” ->Ortho “don’t talk bad on my brother!” -> Ortho explained how everything was approved by the principals, and is not like Idia brought him just because he’s lonely by himself -> Cater “sorry sorry, we kinda got to excited while talking about it since the Shroud brother is like the 7 mysteries of this school.” -> Ortho “I want to apologize for getting too upset as well, I just don’t want you to misunderstand my brother…” -> Cater asked if Ortho is also here for audition -> flashback -> basically Idia made a software with his voice to read out everything he typed -> for the speech since he just can’t talk in front of everyone -> but Idia also got pretty interested in the sound editing world -> Idia “since virtual idol is getting popular, should I put vocal synthesizer in Ortho too?” -> Ortho “sounds fun! I wanted to sing too.” ->Idia “alright~ let big brother handle everything.” -> so to test how far the vocal synthesizer can go, Ortho is here to take the audition -> Ace was surprised that they can just make singing sounds from programs -> Cater said those got quite popular and he likes it too, and wanted to show Grim a video of it -> there was an ad

Neige is promoting in the ad -> Cater mentioned how popular he is getting -> Vil, Rook, and Epel kicked in with sparkling effects -> Vil started introducing himself and explains how he will be the producer for the members appears in VDC

Auditions starts -> Ruggie sung and danced

-> Rook “monsieur dandelion. Such a light step and bright smile. With manliness and loveliness combined perfectly. Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “his way of moving isn’t bad, but his dancing and singing is still messy… next!”

Cater -> Rook “monsieur magcam. Your voice sounds just like the elegant sparkling diamond! I wanted to listen to it forever. Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “singing and dancing wasn’t bad, but I can’t feel any passions… next!”

Lilia -> Rook “monsieur curiosity. Such a lovely form and singing voice with an alluring aura… Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “I don’t know why… but I can’t feel any freshness of a high school student from Lilia. Next!”

Ortho -> Rook “monsieur doll. What a brand-new style…! Your robot dance and singing voice, will be sculpted into my eyes. Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “no matter how genre-less this event is, there’s a limit… next!”

Kalim -> Rook “lord gold! Your dance were just like the breeze that blow through the hot sand! And the singing that make me felt like flying. Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “hmm, it’s a little bit better than the vegetables that’s just rolling around.”

Jamil -> Rook “monsieur mulch. As expected… I can feel your buring soul underneath your cool mask! Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “not bad, he’s the most normal one out of all of them.”

Epel -> Rook “monsieur crabapple. So lovely! Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “that kid, misstep again, no matter how good was his rehearse, it would be meaningless if he can’t do good in the real deal. Also, Rook. aren’t you giving out nothing but 100 points? Are you judging seriously?” -> Rook “of course, but it’s so hard to pick a first when everyone are so wonderful. There’s beauty in the neatness, and there’s also beauty in the twisted. Don’t you think so?” -> last group -> Ace, Deuce, and Grim -> Rook “…I see I see.” -> end of the audition -> result will come out tomorrow -> Rook recommend the trio to Vil

Next day, Ace, Deuce, Grim just got off from class -> suddenly an arrow flies across barely missed Deuce’s nose -> Ace realized there’s a piece of paper on the arrow -> Deuce “what!? Is it a challenge to fight!?” -> Ace “stop connect everything to a fight, let me see…” -> both Ace and Deuce are accepted -> you are also asked to go with those two

You all headed towards Pomefiore -> you saw both Kalim and Jamil -> they are accepted as well -> but after going in Pomefiore, students keep showing up asking for fight -> finally you arrived to the ballroom

-> Vil showed up with sparkling effects again -> apparently the students are fighting with you because you are accepted members, it was a warm up Vil prepared for all of you so he can start the lesson right away -> Vil “listen up, start from now on we would be the representation for NRC, and aim for the first place in the VDC. The members that can’t even win a fight like that is not needed. The battle has already started and all of you should be prepared to be whipped to shape!” -> Kalim “I don’t really understand but okay!” -> Grim asks why are him and you here when you are not accepted -> Crowley showed up and explained, in order to practice for the team work, all of the members will live together in Ramshakle dorm -> Grim wanted to refuse -> but Vil and Rook said they will give you all of their reward money since their goal in this event is not money -> which is around 1.42 million -> you decided to accept the deal after all ->Vil “now let’s start the lesson!” -> Ace “I thought the lesson starts when we starts living together?” -> Vil “don’t get a big head, new potato number 1. You are still an amateur at singing and dancing, we can’t waste a single minute.” -> practice time.

 End of this update.

Oh man it tooks me a whole entire day to do this… and to think this is just like part a of part1. The chapters are getting so much longer…

I Honestly felt like I missed up half of Rook’s nicknames since I don’t know French at all, basically got everything from google so please correct me if I’m wrong.

Also, Rook’s nickname for Epel is kinda weird, he call Epel hime ringo which directly translate to princess apple, but it is also a type of apple. In English it’s called crabapple, which kind of feels different then the Japanese text.

Can I just say I love the fact that we can fight Crewel now? And I just love how he call us zasshu while fighting, it probably referenced to like mixed blood dogs and all but it only reminds me of Gilgamesh lol.

Ahhh I really want Crewel to slap me.

[thebooki3h]

Lukadamianette Au Part 2

First Here Next

We begin where we left off, with Luka and Marinette on one of the dates Luka Planned. Just because it makes sense in this, Luka and Mari arrive a week early

Because Mari is emancipated and excused herself for the first week of school before the trip during which the class is still in France bc they just ended summer and all that jazz. also I have decided that the trip has turned into a half semester exchange program even though this doesn’t make the most sense, but the French school thought the class could use a reward and tbh they just wanted to get the Akuma class out for awhile. Also this way they aren’t in Gotham for a whole semester of senior year. The trip is planned for the first half of the first semester of senior year. I know that this doesn't make a whole lot of sense but just stick with me.

They go sight seeing and basically on a week long date bc the following week begins the Wayne sponsored exchange program and when Luka has to work for Jagged. One day they go to museums, the next the go to famous parks around Gotham (which are thriving thanks to Poison Ivy), the next they see all of the famous villain spots (which are surprisingly popular tourist destinations bc for the most part they don’t get hit twice in short periods of time) which is a good cover for studying past bat battles. They take days in between to rest and use the inspiration they gained to make new songs or clothing designs. 

They share hotel room bc Mari’s parents stopped being her parents a long time ago and lost their say and bc Jagged says they are grown up enough to be responsible for their actions (which brings a blush to their cheeks every time bc “daaaaaddddd” “uncle jaggeeedddd”)

Mari also makes it her mission to visit all of the non chain coffee shops at least once while they are there bc coffee became her best friend when she was active as ladybug. She meets Tim in almost everyone because Tim also drinks coffee obsessively. Luka is more of a tea drinker because coffee interrupts his musical thought process and tea is less harsh. Marinette drinks tea when she wants to relax but coffee is the fuel of the gods. She expresses this to Tim and that's how they become acquainted bc finally someone understands his love for coffee. They exchange numbers after they run into each other for a fourth time. (Luka silently thinks that he might have to talk to Mari about her obsession of coffee again and if there is a rehab center for coffee drinkers) Tim learns that Mari is from the exchange class very quickly based off of Luka’s French accent as well as her light French accent that is mixed with a couple things he can’t quite place.

The class arrives, Lila ofc tried to pull something to leave Mari behind and she thought she was successful so she was gloating. She ofc took credit for the whole trip claiming that she was super close to the Waynes and that she helped Damian acclimate to his new school (she actually knows that Damian didn’t start living with his father until 10 bc why not). Mrs Bustier tries to check in under both her name and Lila’s name, both of which don’t work because they are A) an hour and a half early and B) all of the reservations are under the contest winners name (they have to ok their chaperones to use their name) C)Mrs Bustier told Mari to make all of the reservations under Mari’s name anyway and she totally forgot that. 

So the sit in the lobby for an hour, Lila has the whole class riled up bc Marinette isn't there and it is al her fault that they can’t get in to their rooms. Marinette shows up with Luka 15 mins before the class was supposed to show up (they had just gotten lunch at a cafe that jagged had recommended) and she is laughing and happy, which causes the class to BLOW UP in her face. She ignores them and checks everyone into their rooms. Kagami and Chloe share a suite bc they are rich in their own right and upgraded their shared room bc they are dating and signed up to be roommates. They got this okayed by Buister in writing JIC. Marinette as the contest winner also got a suite (the room she had been staying in with Luka that she just extended the booking for)

Lila and Alya obviously make a big fuss about them getting special treatment but bustier can’t do anything because Mari won’t let her. She secretly thinks Mari is a lost cause now but she tries her best to get her to see that she has to be a role model. Mari actually planned the whole trip and she did a fucking fantastic job bc its Mari and planning something is what she is great at. She has all of the bases covered including iternerary, bookings for food, emergency contact info, health info, info on Gotham, safety procedures and the whole shebang. All of which had to be approved by  Bustier and that Bustier has copies of but totally ignored.

The next day they try to pull the let’s leave an hour early to leave behind Marinette stunt. Not only does that fail because the tour can’t start until the contest winner is there, but they arrived before Wayne tower was even open to the public. Because jagged is extra he shipped Luka and Marinette motorcycles to Gotham bc they were going to be there for a couple months, they also got special permission from Wayne enterprises to park their bikes in the employee parking structures from Tim once he heard that they rode bikes as expensive as Jason’s. So she left early from the hotel with Luka(bc she knew that Bustier would leave her behind somehow) to go meet up with Tim at a new coffee place (one of his favorites). They end up riding on their respective bikes to WE together so they can hang out before the tour. Luka goes to a recording studio to meet up with Jagged, but not before a very passionate kiss goodbye, which makes Tim blush. (Tim may not seem like the biker type but he is a bat and he lives with Jason so he not only knows how to ride a motorcycle well has one, so it may not be his favorite mode of transportation but he’ll live)

So he and Marinette walk to WE about a half an hour before the class is supposed to be there in the middle of a debate on how best to brew coffee (Mari insists its French press) and low and behold they are there yelling at the receptionist. Mari gives Tim a look that says I’m so sorry you have to see this and yes I was not exaggerating walks up to the receptionist and apologizes for what she is about to do (not for the classes actions bc fuck them they can apologize for themselves she has learned to not take responsibility for others actions and she won’t let all that work go to waste). She then proceeds to yell, much louder than someone of her stature presumably should “SHUT THE FUCK UP OR I STG I WILL BREAK JOKER OUT OF ARKHAM AND LOCK HIM IN A ROOM WITH ALL OF YOU WITHOUT FLINCHING” this is shocking to everyone, especially mrs bustier who is  scandalized  that her role model student would do something like this.

Tim had a feeling that something video worthy would happen so as soon as she walked away he started recording, and he was NOT disappointed. The video gos straight to the batfam gc and Luka immediately. He powered off his phone then he proceeds to start laughing and applauding. Upon seeing the CEO’s reaction the rest of the employees start applauding as well bc damn those kids were rude. Tim then walks up to Mari talking at a speed no one but Mari, Chloe and Kagami could understand (bc the class is not fluent in English no matter what they would tell you). Mari proceeds to blush once he informs her that he sent a video to Luka (he does not tell her about the batfam gc)

Chloe and Kagami are immediate intrigued bc this is NOT what they picture when Mari said she met someone who loves coffee as much as she does. they may be hella gay for each other but damn that man is ripped. They join the convo while the class remains befuddled bc who knew Mari even swore. in the back of his mind Nino is reminded of a young blue-eyed girl who lost playground privileges for a week bc someone made fun of his glasses and proceed to punch said someone in the nose. But he shakes it of because Mari hasn’t been like that in years. 

Bustier eventually collects herself and gently, so as not to cause an Akuma (apparently she didn't get the memo), reminds Mari that they are here for a tour and she needs to get the class their passes.  So Mari leaves her friends to get acquainted and goes up to the receptionist, to whom she apologizes for her actions again, and the receptionist replies with a laugh and a “honey, you just made my week, there's no need to apologize I should be thanking you” (she does thank Mari). Mari gets a special pass bc she’s the contest winner to which Lila and Alya (then the rest of the class for the most part) proceed to throw a hissy fit over. The receptionist is so over them though and doesn’t even blink. 

Then their tour guide shows up. (its Dick and his assistant Damian). Damian proceeds to scold the class for a solid ten mins (which coincidentally leads up to their scheduled time to start the tour). Dick slides off to talk to the receptionist and his brother who isn't working and is talking to real people for once. Just for that they are his favorite out of the class. Tim unfortunately has to go to work so they talk to Dick to get acquainted until the tour has to officially start. 

Los tres amigos are the only ones who pay attention to Dick at all (he leads the tour bc he’s been there the longest but Damian throws in a comment here or there mostly related to shenanigans his family has gotten into but overall useful facts. for example these windows are reinforced because our CEO (Tim) leaned up against one, fell asleep and fell through the window to the office below.)

The rest of the class is focused on Lila who is talking a whole bunch of nonsense about the Wayne family and how she has helped them with their business. Some things actually sound kinda legit, but Mari and Co. know that it is BS. Dick tries to bet bustier involved but she makes an excuse for Lila and goes on her phone and doesn’t really pay attention. 

Eventually the class tour turns into Dick talking to Mari, Chloe and Kagami while the class vaguely follows them. Damian doesn’t really say anything because he generally doesn’t do well talking to strangers and these girls seem ok and he is still insecure (not that he would ever admit it to anyone ) about social interaction now that he has figured out how people who weren’t raised as assassins act. That is until Dick starts talking about shenanigans that his brothers get into, and Damian jumps in correcting him because  I did not try to tackle Todd, Grayson I did tackle Todd quite successful and also Alfred won’t let you into the kitchen anymore because you almost burned down the east wing of the manor not  because he is territorial over the kitchen. And Mari hadn’t really paid attention to Damian until now but OH MY KAWAMI he is hot, and how did she talk so long to notice that. 

She ends up taking a pic of Damian without him noticing (he really doesn’t notice which is a feat in itself but Dick does and he will  be teasing Damian about it later bc obviously) and she texts it to Luka bc if she is going to freak out over his hotness she wants Luka to do so too. ( he sees the pic in the middle of recording and he ends up needing a water break bc gay panic and he really is extremely handsome. Recording gets delayed even longer bc jagged cannot pass up the opportunity to tease him son and he does so mercilessly and Mari totally knew what she was doing when she sent that picture) Luka ends up demanding that she gets Damians number or he will because that man is fine.  

Mari now knows that the stuttering idolization that she had with Adrien wasn’t really healthy and Luka likes to remind her all the time that she can be smooth when she wants to be (sometimes unintentionally but she practices on Luka because she loves to see him blush). Mari then makes it her mission to compliment Damian as much as possible so that it is crystal clear and very obvious that she is flirting with him. If he even shows a little discomfort in a negative I don’t like this kind of way she will stop because she will not make someone go through what she went through with Chat Noir and unwanted advances.

Chloe, Kagami and Dick immediately notice that she is flirting with Damian. Chloe takes a video for Luka bc she knows that he would want to see this and Dick takes a video for the Batfam gc. 

Just to be clear Mari and Luka have talked about seeing other people and maybe adding a third person to their relationship as long as they talk about it. that line of communication was opened when Mari sent a pic of Damian to Luka and when Luka asked for his number that was his “go ahead” for her to flirt with Damian. Lila doesn’t understand how that works and neither do the rest of the class so that is a point of contention between the class and Mari. She would NEVER cheat on Luka, she loves him and he is the most important person to her in the world. Something that Juleka understands (she just doesn’t like Mari bc of Lila she knows how polyamory works this is why her and Luka aren't as close as they used to be)

Moving on... the batfam gc blows up for a second time that day and so when the class goes to the cafeteria Tim just has to see this for himself. Mari tries not to be obnoxious in her flirting so she compliments Damians intelligence by asking him questions that weren't included in the tour, and she asks him about his interests and is like that must have taken a lot of time to perfect you must be very dedicated. Damian isn’t used to genuine compliments especially from strangers so he is very flustered by it but he makes no indication for her to stop. 

The day winds down and the class has some free time before they have to go to dinner but the do have to leave the tower. Mari does actually get Damians number (he thinks she must be very well trained to get his number that quick bc he refuses to accept that he gave it to her because he likes her) Mari promises to ft him later bc he promised to let her meet his dog and she doesn’t want to wait until the class has dinner at the manor to see Titus.

First Here Next

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Also I’m not very sure about how to go back and edit posts to link new parts so if anyone knows how to do that please comment or message me because I would love to learn!