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lizthewriter · 1 year

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i think there's been a glitch / theodore nott

PAIRING Theodore Nott x studious!shy!Reader

SUMMARY Theodore Nott was well known for the sort of happenstances that occurred in his dorm. However, the new transfer student seems to catch his eye in particular - that transfer student is you. His friends think that, at first, he has his eyes set on you for more sinful reasons, but he soon proves that his intentions are more romantic than anyone ever thought.

TAGS Theodore Nott x Reader, angst, if you squint, idiots in love, cursing, kissing, study buddies, friends to wtf is this to friends with benefits but also wtf is this to lovers, theo is a simp, reader is not slytherin, can be any other house, reader has social anxiety, references to sex, underage drinking, headmaster's list = dean's list, gender neutral reader

"We were supposed be just friends, / you don't live in my part of town, but maybe I'll see you out some weekend, / depending on what type of mood and situationship I'm in, / and what's in my system," - Glitch by Taylor Swift

WORD COUNT 3.2K

WRITTEN 27.08.2023

A/N This came as a burst of inspiration during calc class when I realized I was really the only person answering my professor's questions in my classes, lmaoo 😭😭 so this is purely self-induglent. i hope you guys enjoy <333

When you had transferred to Hogwarts, you hadn't made very many friends. All right, you hadn't made any friends. Because you had transferred to Hogwarts so late in your academic career, everyone had already formed their own friend groups. No one had any real interest in you - that was, they were interested in why you transferred, but not in assimilating you into their social circles. Your professors, however, had grown quite fond of you, most likely due to your dedication to your studies. And eventually, around midway through the fall semester, you were called into the Headmaster's office. It had kept you on your toes all day - had you done something wrong? Gotten in trouble? Your mind had come up with most elaborate and unlikely scenarios that might have cause you to get called into the Headmaster's office.

You were awarded the honor of being added to the Headmaster's list. Only two others in your year were granted the same honor - Hermione Granger and Theodore Nott. All three of you were maintaining straight O's. You and Hermione had never gotten the opportunity to grow close - it might have been the fact that she was much more close-mindrd than you, or the fact that she didn't have the time to spare to make new friends between her studies and all the "Chosen One" stuff going on. You wanted to at least make one friend, instead of an academic rival, which you made the mistake of creating at your previous school.

So, you approached Theo after the meeting, your hands clamy and shaking while you stuttered out your request to study together. Theo simply watched you with those dead eyes of his before nodding. It had unnerved you but you pushed yourself to confirm a date and time with him. And so began your little friendship.

You were never meant to be more than study partners. Weekly study sessions in the library grew into bi-weekly gatherings, which then grew into daily meetings. And then you were meeting each other after class, making inside jokes, hanging out just because. Slowly, but surely, you and Theo grew close. You weren't sure you had ever been this close with anyone before. It was like he just knew you, not only like the back of his hand, but like every square inch of his body.

And Theo? Theo had never saw you coming. He didn't know that he wanted to be friends with you until you were friends, and then he couldn't stop coming back. You were like a drug. He needed another hit each and every time he saw you. Soon enough, he was aching to spend every waking moment with you. It had started as nothing more than a mutually beneficial partnership, but it grew to be much more than that.

It took him a while to realize he loved you. Cared for you. He was well reputed for sleeping around and having a general devil-may-care attitude. He knew that he loved you when he began to grow tired of the constant flings and one-night stands. When he called off the on-and-off relationship he'd had with a particularly vivacious Slytherin girl. He hated the way girls threw themselves at him, vying for his attention like wildcats fighting over a piece of meat. You weren't like that. You were perfect.

He knew he wanted to ask you out. His friends scoffed at the idea, thinking he was joking. They were shocked when they realized he was serious. Mattheo had even knocked on his head, asking if Theo was really in there. It had to be perfect, so he went to the only people he knew who had ever been in serious relationships. Mostly everyone had told him the same thing - find out what you liked. Woo you. It was rather simple. "For someone who is so smart, you're rather stupid, you know," Blaise had told him. He secretly agreed.

First, he had bought a collection of muggle novels for you at a book store on a forgotten. It had beautifully decorated covers, guilded with golden etchings. When you had sat down to study one day, Theodore had dropped it on the table in front of you while he pulled out his books.

"What's this?" You had asked in confusion.

"It reminded me of you," he said simply, pulling out his spellbook and flipping through it to find where he had last left off.

You furrowed your brows as you pulled the box towards you, unclasping the front of it and pushing it open. You let out the small gasp at the gorgeous hardcovers resting inside, hands trailing along the sturdy spines. Five Muggle Classics, the interior of the box cover said. "Theo . . . " Your voice trailed off at the thoughtfullness of the gift - you were left utterly speechless. "I can't take this. I can't imagine how expensive how this was." You slid the case of books back to Theo. He stopped it, pushing it back towards you.

"Take it. I can't return it. Besides, I got it for you. I would hate to see these go to waste."

You bit your bottom lip before pulling the box back towards you, a smile spreading across your face as you pulled out one of your favorite muggle classics. You flipped through the pages, allowing that paticular new-book smell to wash over you like the waves on a shore. "Thank you," you mumbled softly.

You never came to parties. Mostly because you hated all the drinking and crowds and the mixture of stroking lights and booming music that made you dizzy. But you had started to develop feelings for a particular friend of yours. He was tall, devilishly handsome, and more intelligent that anyone you'd ever met. He smelled of evergreen trees, cigarettes, and lilac. You felt for him in a way that you had never felt for anyone else. You were always so laser-focused on you studies, but you realized that your attention had been straying towards a paticular someone as of recently.

You knew he hung around these sort of parties, finding pretty girls to have a fun night with. You wore the most insanely inappropriate dress you could find, hoping to catch his attention. You weren't exactly sure what your goal for that night was, but you were certain you wanted it to end with you and Theo, alone.

Of course, Theo was shocked to see you there. Even more shocked to see you out of the jeans and sweaters you usually wore, standing in a tight little number that had him practically frothing at the mouth. Not that you weren't always stunning, but you were stunning stunning. He wouldn't have approached you normally, but with the alcohol currently coursing through his system, he had a boost of courage and stupidity.

Five seconds later, he was standing right behind you, calling your name. You turned around to face him with a grin. "Hey, there you are."

"What are you doing here?" It sounded much more like a statement than a question - he was seemingly distracted by something else about you.

"I came to see you, silly. And to see what all the rage is about."

"And?"

"I've come to the conclusion that parties suck."

Theo laughed, something hearty that rumbled through his chest. "Want to go somewhere else?"

"Please," you responded with a role of your eyes. "I'm starting to get a headache." You had stupidly accepted a drink and chugged down the bitter alcohol earlier - that didn't bode well for your head when you were already bothered by loud music sober.

Theo's eyes searched the room for somehwere that might be a little quieter - his eyes landed on the staircase to his dorm. Well, where else was there to go? He lead you up the steps, the two of you laughing as he kept you from stumbling down the stairs, and guided you to his dorm. He sat you down on the bed, grabbing a glass on his bedside table, and filled it up with the spell Aguamenti.

"Thanks," you said sweetly, taking it from his hand and taking a long sip. You took a good look at the room, easily able to tell whose area of the roo. was whose. Mattheo's was messy - clothes strewn across the bed and floor. Draco's was neat and filled with a variety of potions book, his bedside table cluttered with potions of a variety of colors, lined up in orderly rows. Blaise had a poster of his favorite Quidditch team plastered on the wall, as well as a family photo filled with all his siblings. Theo's, however, was minimal and tidy aside from the piles of books. His bed was neatly made, the corners of the covers tucked under the mattress.

You finally met Theo's eyes and finally saw some sort of emotion - it took you a moment to identify it as hunger. You glanced down at the outfit you were wearing and flushed, your eyes staying firmly on the ground.

"You look very pretty."

You felt your heart stop in your chest. Had Theo called you . . . pretty? You were in shock - sure, you had come to the party with more than friendly intent, but you had never expected that he would actually notice you the way he had noticed other girls.

"Y-you - you look very handsome."

Theo watched you for a moment - he was standing only a foot away with arm wrapped around the four-poster, hanging off from it slightly. There was an odd sort of tension in the room - you both knew what you wanted and you both knew you wanted it now. Both of your inhibitions were lowered because of the alcohol, so it was that one split desicion that changed everything. Soon enough, his lips were planted into yours, one hand cupping your cheek and the other trailing along the side of your body. Everything had happened so fast - it went from the hand on your hips guiding you down onto the mattress to clothes strewn on the floor to sleeping heavily within each other's arms. It was hours before you woke again, and you were grateful that none of his friends had come up from the party yet. He helped you get dressed, a look of almost disbelief settled into his features as you left, sending him an awkward smile before you closed the door. What had he done?

The next day you had studied together like nothing happened. You cracked a joke. He laughed. You helped him with Transfiguration, he helped you with Ancient Runes. Another day passed. And another. And another. Theo was going beyond mad - what were you two now? Were you still friends? Were you dating? He felt like he wanted to yank all his hair out of his head.

That was, until about a week later. Late at night, the two of you were studying in the library. He was huddled next to you, embarrassingly distracted by your beauty while you were trying to help him with a homework problem he got stuck on. He finally snapped back to attention as you pointed to something on his parchment, leaning downwards to see exactly what you were pointing at. At the same time, you had turned your head to see what had him so distracted. The resultant situation: your noses bumped together and he could feel your heavy, hot breath on his lips.

Flashbacks to the night you shared soared through both of your minds. And it was you, this time, who had made the stupid desicion. You lunged for his lips with desperation, fingers snaking through his hair, a hand planted on his chest. He had tensed in surprise before returning the kiss with equal fervor. It wasn't long before you were quickly packing your things and Theo was dragging you to some abandoned room, your lips entangled as he pressed you up against the wall. The moonlight seeped in through the red glass-stained windows, dancing deliciously on your skin. Forever engraved in his memory was the picture of you, the only word on your lips being his name, grasping his shoulders with need.

Neither of you knew what kind of relationship you had descended into. It involved rather intimate gatherings from time to time, but for the most part, you were just friends. It was an almost seamless friendship between you two - except for the nagging thoughts at the back of both of your minds that kept you wondering if the other really felt the same way.

Theo buried his face into his hands, surrounded by a group of friends who had utterly no idea what to do. Their eyes watched him with trepidation and worry. It was oddly concerning how much he was stressing over this. Theo never seemed to stress about anything. But here he was, hands fisted in his hair, staring down at the ground in utter disillusionment.

"I've ruined everything. All cause I couldn't keep it in my fucking pants."

"That can't be it, mate," Mattheo tried reassuring him. "Look, you said they're different, yeah? All the other girls you've slept with found someone else after you. But they keep coming back for more. That has to mean something, right?"

"Yeah, you've just got to romance them," Blaise said. Theo groaned.

"Please never open your mouth again."

"I'm serious. Take her to Hogsmeade, that'll show them."

Theo leaned his face upwards, staring at Blaise. He was right - taking someone to Hogsmeade virtually meant asking them out on a date. You had to know the innuendo by now, being at Hogwarts as long as you have. "Blaise, you're brilliant." He clapped his friend on the back, rushing out of the dorm to find you.

You scanned the bookshelves for books with more information on Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. The idea fascinated you - how come you could conjure any sort of non-edible object from nothing, but with food you couldn't? At the root of it, everything was made of subatomic particles, then atoms, then particles, and so on. So, theoretically, anything could be created from nothing, correct?

You were so enraptured by your own thoughts that you had no conception of your surroundings and bumped right into someone walking straight towards you. The books in your arms tumbled onto the floor and you flushed a bright red, bending down to pick them up.

"Gosh, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, hastily collecting the books from the ground. The boy, who you hadn't really looked at yet, bent down to help you collect them as well. "I wasn't looking where I was going, I'm really -"

As you stood up, you finally got to look at his face - and it turned out to be Theo. His face was just barely flushed, and the emotion in his eyes held a deep meaning that you couldn't quite decrypt. You didn't have a chance to ask him what he was doing, because he beat you to it.

"Go to Hogsmeade with me."

"I'm sorry?"

"Hogsmeade. You and I. Interested?" His tone was strained, and you realized what emotion finally lay beyond those dead eyes. Fear.

You knew what he was insinuating. Was he - asking you out on a date? Did that mean he really did like you? More than just as someone he could have a little fun with time and again, someone who was just a friend. You stared up at him for quite a while, not realising how silent you were as you sunk into the rabbit hole of your own thoughts.

"I - erm - all right, then." You were still quite in a bit of shock. "Will you -"

"Yeah, I'll wait for you outside your common room." The fear in his eyes seemed to dissipate, his shoulders sagging in relief.

"Right. Yeah, sounds good. Great."

You had bundled up for the cold weather, a thick scarf wrapped around your neck and a hat with your house emblem on your head. You tried to dress in something nice underneath the layers of warmth - it had taken you a long time to decide what exactly you wanted to wear, but you had eventually come to a conclusion.

When you exited the dormitory, you found Theo bundled up with an equal amount of layers, yet he looked just as attractive as he always did. In his hands, he held a single rose. You flushed a bright red, especially as a group of first year girls giggled as they exited the dorm behind you.

"Hello," Theo said simply, handing you the rose.

"Hello," you responded shyly, taking it gratefully and holding it in your hands. You smiled nervously, rocking back and forth on your feet. "So."

"So. Are you ready?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." Theo grabbed your hand, holding it gently. You hid your face from his view, not wanting him to know the kind of affect he had on you as he lead you through the castle. "What do you want to do first?"

You had weaved your hand through his arm, resting your head on the edge of his shoulder. "Hm. I need some more quills. But we should definitely stop at the bookshop first. I want to see if they've gotten anything new."

"Okay."

Theo had never been a talkative person - and you had never really minded it, not until now. You wish that maybe he might just tell you he had feelings for you, more than feelings that only arose every once in a while. It would make this so much easier on you. But you were nervous and shy and had a hard time talking to people, even one's you've been friends with. So you remained silent on the walk there.

Theo could tell it was an uncomfortable silence. Not only did being the quiet one meant he could read a room easily, he had also been around you long enough to know when you felt uncomfortable. He stopped the two of you from walking - you were already walking the path to Hogsmeade, snow lightly covered both of your heads.

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothing."

"You don't have to lie to me."

You bit the interior of your cheek nervously. Did you really want to destroy what you had with him? You were content with keeping your relationship the way it was. At least, that's what you convinced yourself.

You felt your gaze being drawn back to Theo, his fingers resting under your chin. "Don't hide from me, love, tell me what's on your mind."

"Love." You felt your heart melt into a puddle of hope and embarrassment. "Theo . . . what are we?"

Theo grabbed your hand and held it up, intertwining your fingers together. He looked at them, with something akin to fascination, and muttered, "What do you want us to be?"

You paused. "I want us to be together," you whispered, looking up at him with eyes of despair. Theo felt his heart wrench at the sight of it. He raised his other hand, brushing it lightly against your cheek.

"Then let's be together," he whispered back. He leaned downwards, meeting your lips in a soft kiss. It wasn't like any of the kisses before that - no, those were passionate, desperate, lust-filled kisses. This was loving, caring, blossoming. He dropped your hand to cup both of your cheeks in his hand, his nose biting into your cheek. "You and I. I like the sound of that."

tags: @plants-are-pretty-cool @annaisabookworm @maricardigan

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gracexthoughts · 6 months

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of violent delights chap 7

happy birthday, mia

30 January 1996

Euphemia's POV

The Christmas break seemed to float by. Harry and I stayed at Hogwarts as always, the Weasleys and Hermione staying as well. My first two years at Hogwarts, I went back to the Dursleys' for Christmas, just to see Harry and make sure he was okay. Since Harry started though, we've had no reason to go back. Christmas with each other and our friends has always been far preferable. I'll never forget how excited Harry got his first Christmas morning at Hogwarts.

I love the castle during the holidays. It's decorated to the nines and is quiet and serene for two weeks. I spend most of my time running around the empty halls with the twins, a snowball fight with the Twins and I on one team and Harry, Ron and Hermione on another, and two weeks of no prefect rounds.

Since that night in the broom closet, Mattheo and I haven't spoken of what happened. I've never seen him be so gentle, especially not to me. The way he helped calm me down from panicking, and the way our hostile banter turned playful in the time we spent locked in the closet has plagued my mind in the two months since. I fully expected to arrive in class the next morning with the whole school knowing Euphemia Potter had a panic attack from being stuck in a broom closet with Mattheo Riddle (most girls' dream situation) but no one knew unless I told them. Mattheo hadn't told anyone what happened, or if he did he swore them to secrecy. I tried to thank him for it but I only received a grunt in return, reverting back to the same cold, angry and insufferably superior jerk I've always known him to be. Even so, I can't help but wonder what he was doing over break, why he was so nice to me that night, and why he hasn't tried to use my weakness against me.

Harry has been despondent since Christmas when his new Firebolt was confiscated to be checked for tampering. I hadn't even woken up yet when Harry had come rushing in, yelling thank you over and over again. He'd thought I had bought him the new broom but I hadn't. Well, I'd been planning on it but my plan was to let Harry pick out the broom he wanted rather than choose it myself. But some mystery benefactor had beaten me to it and McGonagall promptly confiscated it, worried about it being cursed or hexed and Hermione has taken the brunt of Harry's anger. Secretly, I'm grateful someone else thought it was strange besides me but i’m sorry Hermione is being shut out for it.

Since term has resumed, and prefect rounds and Quidditch practices along with it, Harry and I have been adding weekly anti- dementor lessons to our schedules. Four lessons in and Harry and I can both produce the shield version of the Patronus Charm. The corporeal form, however, has been a bigger challenge.

"Happy Birthday, Mia!" The door to my dorm is flung open as the Weasley Twins, Angelina, Alicia, Lee, and Harry all flood into my room. The best benefit of being a prefect? I have my own dorm room. Although, my friends have started to use it as their own personal common room so it's ultimately not that private anymore. I sit up, making a noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh as my friends and brother surround my bed. I squint at the clock on my nightstand and balk.

"I love you all so much but it's literally 8AM, I don't get to sleep in on my birthday? It's a Sunday!" I pretend to whine, falling back on my pillows. With Quidditch practice Mondays-Thursdays 4:30-6:30PM, prefect rounds Tuesdays and Thursdays 9-11PM, and extra lessons with Lupin on Wednesdays at 8PM I have barely any time to do my schoolwork, let alone anything else.

"No, because it's not fair for you to shorten the time we get to celebrate you by sleeping," Angelina says, crossing her arms and sitting on the bed next to me.

"You can't sing at breakfast," I say, sitting up with my eyes wide and looking at the Twins. Fred and George love parties, celebrations and taking the mickey out of people they love. When they found out I'd never celebrated a birthday before coming to Hogwarts, they made it their personal mission to make every birthday since absolutely insane.

"We won't," Fred says, a mischievous gleam in his eyes behind his smile.

"I couldn't believe you less," I laugh.

"Oh we're singing! No opting out, Potter!" Lee says, wiggling his eyebrows like a madman.

"C'mon, Mia don't be a spoil sport!" George says, leaning against one of the posts of my bed frame.

"Oi! I am many things but a party pooper is not one," I laugh, "I need you all the leave if you expect me to get dressed though."

"Boo," Fred laughs, heading towards the door with George and Lee. Harry holds back for a moment and leans over the edge of my bed to give me a hug.

"Happy birthday, Mia," he says with a small smile.

"Thanks, Haz," I return his smile, reaching up to ruffle his already unruly hair. He chuckles and shoves my hand away and turns to leave with the rest of the boys, leaving me with Angelina and Alicia.

"Sooo, what do you think Freddie got you for your birthday?" Angelina asks, lay back on my bed.

"The twins better not have gotten me anything. I don't want any presents," I say, pushing off the blankets and tossing them over Angie.

"Not the twins! Fred," Alicia says, sitting on the back of the love seat in front of the fireplace. I furrow my eyebrows as I cross the room to my dresser and begin pulling clothes out for the day.

"Why just Fred?"

"C'mon, Mia. You are not dense," Angie says, rolling onto her stomach and propping herself up on her elbows.

"About what, Ang?" I turn, raising my eyebrows, playing dumb because I know exactly where they are going with this.

"Freddie liiiikes you!" She responds in a sing-song voice, causing me to roll my eyes and throw a sweatshirt at her from across the room.

"Please!" I groan.

"Why are you upset? Fred's cute," Alicia says. Angelina and I raise our eyebrows at our friend, who is very openly lesbian. "That's not a personal opinion! It's just a fact. Fred and George could have any girl in this school they wanted and yet, dear Freddie has been single for more than a year. He likes you, Mia. It's plain as day."

"I look like I could be his sister. Remember first year when half the school thought we were triplets?" I say, pulling a sweater over my head. The Weasley family all have bright and fiery red hair while my hair is a darker red, a weird mix of the dark brown of my father's hair and the bright red my mother had. Never stopped people from asking if we were related though. "I don't like Fred like that."

"You're dumb for that, Phe. Sorry," Angie laughs.

"You date him then if you think he's so great!" I laugh.

"No thanks. I've got dibs on George though," she responds, winking at me. Alicia and I exchange a shocked look before we burst out into laughter.

"You know, Ang, I think that will work out very well for you," I tease. Angelina bolts up to her knees, still on my bed.

"What do you know?"

"A secret!" I wink and duck as Ang throws a pillow at me.

"The three of you and your secrets, I swear!"

"Okay so who do you like? There's gotta be somebody," Alicia pries, and I sigh.

"There's no one. When would I find the time?"

Angelina gasps, jumping up from the bed and rushing over to me, grabbing me by the shoulder. "Don't tell me it's Riddle!"

"ANG!" I groan, pulling out of her grip, moving into the ensuite bathroom but leaving the door open.

"Oh my god, imagine?" Alicia starts cackling on the couch, falling off the back and landing on the cushions on the other side, her feet dangling over the back of the love seat.

"It's like Romeo and Juliette! By that muggle writer you like so much!"

"Romeo and Juliet both die in the end," I call from the bathroom. "I don't really think they are meant to role models."

"Still, he's so hot. And experienced. From what I hear he's amazing in be-"

"Ah! No! Please stop, it's already hard enough to do rounds with him without thinking about his bedroom habits!" I interrupt Angelina, waving my hands begging her to stop. "Let's go get breakfast and you can continue your tirade of embarrassment once I have coffee in my system, deal?"

My day is spent being dragged around by my friends. They take me to Hogsmeade, singing happy birthday again when Rosemerta brings me a cupcake with a small candle stuck in the top and telling every shopkeeper it's my birthday. I think I spend most of the day blushing and trying to hide. When we finally make it back to the castle, I head into my room to put away some stuff I bought in Hogsmeade.

Just as I'm about to leave to rejoin my friends, something catches my eye on my mantle. It's a yellowing piece of parchment paper folded into a square with my name on it written in handwriting I don't recognize. I reach for it and turn it over revealing a dark red wax seal. I study the crest pressed into the dark red wax, feeling like I recognize it but not being able to-- My knees fold below me and I sink to the floor at the realization. I did research on our family history my first year at Hogwarts and this crest was everywhere I looked. The Potter Family crest.

My hands shake as I tear open the letter.

22 October 1981

My darling Mia,

Happy 18th birthday, my beautiful, wonderful daughter. If you're reading this letter, then I am very glad I decided to write this. While I hope your mother and I come out of this war relatively unscathed, I feel it would be irresponsible if I did not put some things in writing for a worst case scenario. So, I have enchanted this letter to appear to you on your birthday on the off chance I am not there to give you a present in person.

As I'm sure you know, my father inherited a fortune, which through his career he grew significantly, and a manor house. A house in which he and my mother raised me, and I spent my life in. My parents, never failing in their generosity, made our home a haven for others, and a place of warmth and joy, not only for our family by blood, but our family through choice as well. It has a proper name I never could be bothered to remember but everyone just called it the Potter Manor anyway. If you are reading this it means I am gone and the house is now yours. You'll find directions to it in this letter as it was hidden by enchantments before we left to go into hiding. What you do with the house and the money, I leave entirely to you and your brother's choosing. I know first hand how quickly the world changes and I believe the age of manor houses and ballrooms, and lavish parties of my parents' life is not in keeping with the world you shall be a young woman.

I also want you to know how loved you are. We may not have expected you but we have never regretted your existence. You and your brother have been the shining star that has guided your mother and me through the dark years that have followed us since leaving Hogwarts. I know you will do incredible things in your life, my darling. Watching you grow these last few years has been the most wonderful experience of my life and being your father is the greatest privilege. Your mother and I love you and Harry more than anything in this world.

I know if you are reading these words, then the worst has happened and I am very sorry I never got to watch you grow into the beautiful young woman I know you will be. Luckily, you have been surrounded by loving friends and family since your birth and I know you and your brother will be well taken care of by your godfathers. Remus and Sirius are my brothers, as well as Peter, and they are some of the only people your mother and I would entrust our children to. Do me a favor? Tell them I love them for me.

Now, I hear your mother calling me for dinner and I must go have a wonderful meal cooked by the woman of my dreams, joined by the two most beautiful and wonderful children to ever exist. What a lucky man I am.

With all my love,

Dad

I can't help as tears fall down my face as I read my fathers words, words he hoped would never reach me, words he might have shown me himself, to which we would laugh at our good fortune and celebrate the 18 years we spent together as a family. I blink back tears and read through the letter again, soaking up the only piece of my father I have.

As I reread his mention of godfathers, a tightness grows in my chest. Sirius, I know, is Harry's godfather but Remus? I sit there, my knees pulled to my chest, for a moment before the realization hits me.

The letter in my hand, I run out of my room and into the halls, furiously walking to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, red clouding my vision as the truth of my life comes more clearly into focus. As I enter the darkened classroom, I see light spilling out from the office door at the back. I throw the door open to see Remus Lupin standing at a record player in the back, music playing softly from the speakers.

"Mia! Are you alright?" He asks, his eyes scanning my face with concern.

"Are you my godfather?" I blurt out, unable to control the anger coursing through my veins. Lupin pails and he nearly drops the record in his hands.

"W-Where did you hear that?" He asks, setting the record down and walking around his desk to face me. I hold out the letter, slightly crumpled from my rush through the halls. Lupin's hands shake as he takes the paper, his face growing somber as he reads the words my father wrote days before his death. The office is silent for a long moment, the only sound is the record player in the corner spinning still even after the music has come to an end. After a long moment, I break the silence again.

"So? Is it true?" Lupin looks up at me, tears shining unshed in his eyes, and nods slowly.

"Yes..." I close my eyes, willing myself not to cry as he hands me back the letter. I wait for him to continue but he doesn't. So I do.

"What, no excuses? No explanation as the where the fuck you've been the last fifteen years? Sirius Black being Harry's godfather is bad enough but you? You seem quite capable. I mean you're alive, seemingly sane and decent and yet I had no idea you existed until 5 months ago. Clearly my father was under the impression you'd have been a good guardian to his children and yet, what? You said no? Disappeared until I was old enough not to be a burden on you? Ran away and left the children of a man who called you brother to the care of their muggle aunt and uncle who made their lives a living hell? I assume you knew the state of my mother's relationship with her sister since you were good enough friends to be her child's godfather!" I rant, barely recognizing my own voice as it's clouded through grief and tears and barely contained anger.

"Mia-" He takes a step towards me, his hand outstretched and shaking but I step back, shaking my head as tears flow freely down my cheeks now.

"How could you have left us there? Without even as much as a letter? A visit? Not even a single sign that we were not entirely alone in the world? Do you have any idea what they were like? Any idea what we lived with for 15 years? How they lied to us about who we were ,who our parents were and how they died, how they locked us in the cupboard under the stairs when we used magic before we even knew magic was real!" I'm yelling now, rage over taking any sense of decency or respect for the man standing in front of me, looking guiltier than a man on trial for murder. All the rage I've stuffed down over the years about the circumstances of my life bubbles up as I realize what Harry and I could have been spared. I rage and I rage and I don't care if it wounds this man. "You know, all this time I've been wrong about you. All year, I've thought that you were good and kind, that you were giving Harry and I lessons out of empathy when really all along it's just been guilt! You claim to have cared about our parents and yet you abandoned the children they sacrificed their lives for... You... You're just as much of a coward as Sirius Black." I say before turning on my heel to leave.

"Mia! I-I tried. I promise you, I tried to take you but... I was told I wasn't fit," Lupin says, his voice breaks on the last word. I close my eyes, for a moment, frozen in my tracks as I stand under the doorframe.

"Then you didn't try hard enough," I say quietly before slamming the door behind me and running out of the classroom.

A/N: I’m sorry Remus, I love you I promise. Also i’m sorry it’s another all Mia chapter but Mattheo’s is next, i promise.

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pumpkin-spike18 · 8 months

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✨Weekly Progress 2024 #3-5✨

ikr, I should call these monthly updates instead 💦💦

Weekly Progress #3

Reviewed BWBOK comments

Weekly Progress #4

Lined and flat colored Comm BG

Provided initial Comm designs

Sketched Comm sprite

Made edits to BWOBK script s1-s3

Planned new BWOBK scenes (3-4)

Started writing BWOBK s3.5

Weekly Progress #5

Finished Comm BG

Finished Comm sprite

[Fan project #1] Initial reading + comments

[Fan project #2] Initial outline review + comments

[Fan project #2] Provided initial character designs

Flat colored all SYVNH BGs (10)

No, it's not a cry for help. I'm just crying.

The Beauty Which Only Beast Knows

I know we originally planned to have the full release by the end of January and today it is... February 5th. Unfortunately, the full team became quite busy in January, but we are all still dedicated to finishing the project! We've made a new timeline and milestones for completing the project (hopefully by April).

[Secret?]

This month, I accepted and spent most of my time working on a commission for a VN project, which is why I listed "Comm" in my update list. I'm not sure what the marketing plans for this project is so I'll write more/support when it comes out.

tbf, if you're in the devtalk server as well, I'm sure you've already seen me talk about it and seen previews of the work.

Stuck in a Yandere Visual Novel... HELP!!

Flat coloring 10 BGs in one week may sound like I've been working throughout the week to responsibly complete this milestone.

No, my dumb ass flat colored 10 BGs in 1 day.

Flat coloring is easy, but even 10 in one day hurts my soul...

I fully blame @usarin for cursing me to complete all 10 in one day.

Go check out their stuff if you haven't already. They make really pretty art and awesome visual novels, too.

Why do I only show 9 BGs btw? Oh, I was stupid and forgot I did 5 during the second session. I only realized it after closing everything that there was a fifth window open and it wasn't a reference.

[Fan Project]

I debated adding this here as these two projects are essentially unrelated to VNs, but part of my creative interests and will take a decent portion of my time. (Don't worry, I still intend to prioritize my ongoing VN projects.) I may change my mind on including it here in the future, but I've included its tasks in my VN to-do notebook since I look at that every day.

That's it for this week month! (I'm going to try to update weekly, but at this rate...) I'm going back to sleep 🥱 I woke up earlier than I wanted to today.

#devlog #vndev #visual novel #vnlink #bwobk #syvnh

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starlit-hopes-and-dreams · 1 year

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Chapter 14 ~ Everything is fine... Just fine

Hidden Depths

Masterlist ~ Next

Also on ao3

Genre: Fantasy whump

CW: Some internalized ableist thoughts and anger over a new disability (unable to speak), ableist language from some drunk dude, physical violence, and a chapter saturated in angst :)

WC: 2295

Tagging my HD crew: @kixngiggles, @dont-touch-my-soup (if you want to be added or removed, let me know!)

In which all is not as peachy keen as it seemed at the end of Arc 1, but everyone expected that, right? Right. 😅

AN: This is part of a series. You can find the first chapter of Arc 1 here, or you can just jump right on in to the recovery arc and catch up along the way :D

So uh, its been... a hot minute since I finished the first arc. Took me a bit longer to start this one than expected, but here we gooooo! Wish me luck as I journey into this unknown territory called fluff, which should hopefully make more than a brief appearance by the time I wrap this story up 😂

But before the fluff, we get the angst of recovering from trauma *rubs hands together*

Current plan is to do a chapter a week, on Fridays at 2 pm EST, and hopefully by the time we get to the 6th bitch-ass chapter, I'll have figured that shit out so I can continue with the weekly schedule 😂😅

If not... you'll get what you get when you get it <3

Resh

Resh still felt dazed, even miles out from the capital.

Carr… she had come. To say goodbye, he'd thought. He'd been so relieved to see her, and at the same time, seeing her had felt like having his heart ripped out of his chest. The pain had taken his breath away, and he'd just stood there, unable to move.

But she'd been planning to come the entire time. Resh blinked back the tears that rose every time he thought about it. His hand went to his throat, but he encountered the light silken fabric of his scarf, so he pretended to adjust it.

He also pretended not to see the knowing glance Carr shot him from the corner of her eye, electing to look out the carriage's window instead. There wasn't much to see, unfortunately. They were between towns or villages, so the view was mostly an unbroken, rolling landscape of tall grass waving in the breeze. A hot, mid-summer breeze. Sweat prickled his skin even under the light material of his shirt, and burned unpleasantly on his forehead.

But his discomfort faded to the background when he remembered the feel of Carr's arms wrapping around his waist. The steady rhythm of her breathing while her head rested on his chest. He gave up looking out the window in favor of looking at her, sitting on the bench opposite him and Orla.

The red tones in Carr's blond hair were more noticeable in the sunlight. Resh traced the fall of the short waves across her cheek while she stared out the window. At some point, she'd pulled her bare feet up on the bench and wrapped her arms around her knees. He cocked his head; the position, the set of her shoulders—she looked tense. Resh wasn't sure why. She had the whole cushioned bench to herself and two windows to choose from, one on each side of the carriage.

The sense that something was off dampened his mood. Resh glanced at Orla, who was curled up in the corner, her small features relaxed in sleep. Then, he waved his hand to get Carr's attention.

She snapped her head around so fast Resh winced. "You okay? Do you need t' stop?"

Since Resh couldn't fucking speak, Carr had taken over communicating with the carriage driver. Not that he was bitter about that or anything. Out of habit, he reached for his notebook, but Carr tapped her lips, reminding him she could read them. Gods, he still couldn't believe she'd practiced lip reading for him.

I'm fine, Resh said, shaping the words carefully, then motioned to her. You? Are you okay?

"I'm fine," Carr said, turning to look out the window again.

She'd said that awfully fast. And he wasn't sure how it was possible, but she'd somehow made herself even smaller. Sighing, he waved his hand again. Carr slowly looked back over at him, her eyes wary. Resh didn't like that look.

Do you want to take a break? he asked.

Of course, she shook her head. The tender skin on Resh's forehead pulled when he crinkled his brow, trying to figure out what was bothering her. He ruffled his hair, using the motion to ensure his bangs still covered the brand. He knew his other scars were still hidden; he was sweltering despite the expensive shit the fabric of his clothes was fashioned from.

He tugged on his sleeves anyway, making sure they fell over the cuff of his gloves. Maybe they had pulled up or something.

"Resh," Carr said hesitantly, and he looked at her, his fingers rising to his throat. "You know you don't have t' wear all that, right? You must be hot."

I'm fine, he said, forcing his hand back down. Damnit, he'd said that already. Why was this so awkward? To the pits with it. Something is wrong, I can tell. Orla is asleep. Talk to me? Please?

They looked over at Orla, checking to make sure what he'd said was still true. When Resh turned his head, Carr's expression was pinched. She wasn't really looking at him, so he let her be. She would speak if she wanted to.

Turned out she didn't want to.

Something tightened in his chest as the silence stretched on and on. A few times, he thought she would speak, but then nothing.

He couldn't stop the doubts from forming in his head. Had she changed her mind? They barely knew each other outside their shared imprisonment and all the traumatic experiences that had come with it. He may feel like he'd known her forever, but that didn't mean she felt the same. Maybe Orla had talked her into this, and now she regretted her choice.

Maybe… Resh rechecked his clothes. Maybe there was something about him that was uncomfortable? But she'd let him hug her. It didn't take a genius to figure out Carr didn't like to be touched, and she'd let him hug her. Maybe she'd felt the uneven patches of skin under the thin fabric of his shirt, and now she was unsettled? Resh tugged on his sleeves again.

When Orla finally woke, she filled the carriage with bright, excited chatter. Resh watched Carr relax a little as she talked with his sister.

He was happy Carr and Orla got along. He was.

It must be him that was the problem, then.

After a few stilted interactions, Resh accepted he was too preoccupied to be good company. He rested his head on the back of the seat, closing his eyes as if he were going to nap. He wasn't, of course–no way would he risk one of his nightmares inside this carriage. But he patterned his breathing and listened to the girls' conversation.

It was a long carriage ride.

~~~

Resh neither knew nor cared what the name of the town they stopped for the night in was. Well, it wasn't night yet, more like early evening, but they wouldn't be able to reach another town today, and he'd wanted to stay in an inn each night. His sister deserved a bed, and the queen was essentially paying for all this, so why not?

He was stiff and exhausted when he exited the carriage, but Resh pushed through and led the way into the inn. The building was simply appointed, with worn wooden floors and white plaster walls. Decorations befitting a farming community adorned the walls; a spray of dried flowers here, a painting of the people at harvest, there. A long table with bench seats was positioned at the back, in front of an unlit fireplace. Resh was relieved to see there weren't too many people sitting at the table; it meant the inn might be able to give them all separate rooms. Several windows had shutters thrown open to admit the slightly cooler evening air and the reddish-orange light of the setting sun.

After pausing for a moment to take it all in, he headed for the bar on the left. A few men were sitting at the counter, and one looked pretty drunk already, so Resh gave him a wide berth. He nodded at the innkeeper, who was wiping the counter with a wet rag, and leaned against the counter to wait for the man. Orla climbed up on a stool beside Resh, and Carr moved to stand on his right side.

"How many rooms you want?" Carr asked, turning away from the other men, who suddenly looked a little cowed. Her fingers tapped her thigh, and Resh wondered what she'd done.

He just shook his head and pulled out his notebook. I got this.

She opened her mouth but closed it again without speaking when the innkeeper walked up.

The innkeeper was a portly, middle-aged man with butter-yellow hair and bright blue eyes. Laugh lines appeared when he smiled at them, dropping his wet rag on the counter. It made a small splat, and Orla giggled.

"Name's Innes," the innkeeper said, smiling at Orla then looking at Resh. "You kids passing through or looking to stay for a while?"

Resh pointed to his throat, at which the innkeeper raised an eyebrow, then extended the notebook. He'd written out several different requests in anticipation of this journey.

Innes took a moment to read the page Resh had flipped to. "Three rooms for the one night? You sure?"

Resh nodded.

"Alright," Innes said. "I've got three. Supper is stew and bread tonight. If you leave afore breakfast, there'll be something left out to take with you. It'll be one silver each."

Carr stopped staring at the drunk man long enough to snap her head around at that. Resh didn't blame her; it was an outrageous price. This innkeep clearly thought they were spoiled rich kids from the city. Well, Resh and Orla certainly looked it anyway, dressed in the fancy clothes they had from the palace. Carr's clothing was simpler—tight black pants paired with a dark blue tunic and soft, well-worn boots.

Resh held up his hand when Carr scowled at the man. Last thing he needed was her calling him some ridiculous, obscene name and pissing him off. She turned the scowl on him instead.

Grabbing his notebook, he scribbled "six coppers" and flashed it at the innkeeper. Innes grinned, and they started haggling back and forth, finally agreeing on one silver for the lot of them. Resh shook the innkeeper's hand, pleased to feel the rush of a deal gone well, and flipped the man his coin.

"Go 'head and take a seat. I'll have some food brought out," Innes said.

Orla skipped ahead, Carr following after. Resh trailed behind, trying to think of a good way to ask Carr if she really wanted to be here or if his sister had just put her up to this. He completely forgot about the other men at the bar.

They hadn't forgotten him.

The hand that wrapped around Resh's bicep startled him badly, and he dropped his notebook. The leather cover made a loud thwack as it hit the floor.

"Whatsa matter with ya, kid?" the drunk man slurred. "Can' talk, wearing fuckin strange ass clothes like that in summer… don' want freaks like you in our town, ya hear?"

The other men at the bar didn't look up, but Resh heard them grunt their approval. He pulled on his arm, but the drunk fuck was surprisingly strong.

Let go, Resh tried to say, forgetting nothing would come out.

The man laughed as he stood, getting right up in Resh's face. His breath was awful, and Resh started to push him off when the man's eyes caught his attention.

Dark green.

Like Marcus' eyes.

A frisson of fear skittered down Resh's spine, and he froze, unable to look away. The drunk shoved him back against the bar. He gasped when the edge of the counter dug into his back, and his heart rate kicked up.

"Oh," the man chortled. "You can hear the air escape, anyhow."

One moment the man was there, his laughter sending putrid waves of alcohol and rotten breath into Resh's face, the next moment, he was gone. Released from those eyes, Resh blinked, his skin flushing hot with anger, then growing clammy as shame took its place.

Carr sat on top of the drunk man, who stared at her with wide, unblinking eyes as drool trickled down his cheek. The other men were conspicuously silent, not even daring to look Resh's way anymore. When the rush of blood pounding in his ears died down, Resh caught the end of what Carr was saying and finally understood why the drunk looked so fucking terrified.

"… take the fuckin hint? Your brain been sittin in the brine of this nasty piss you been drinkin too long, huh. Wise up and get the fuck outta here before I decide t’ use your guts as a noose. Yeah?" Carr's voice was pitched low, and Resh was sure it didn't carry, just as he was sure no one could see the dagger she held to the man's throat.

Resh gripped the counter's edge and took a deep breath, trying to settle whatever that man had shaken loose inside him.

"Y-yesh…yes," the drunk stammered, sniffling. The scuffle of boots against the floorboards receded as the man unsteadily rose and ran out.

Unable to look up, Resh kept his eyes on the floor. Useless. Worse than useless. How was he supposed to keep anyone safe if he couldn't even handle a fucking drunk? Brown boots entered his line of sight, followed by his notebook. His fingers cramped when he released the counter to take it back.

"You wanna take the meal in our rooms?" Carr asked softly.

Resh nodded. He forced his head up but found he couldn't meet Carr's eyes. Instead, he searched for Orla over her shoulder. She stood by the trestle table, biting her lip and looking worried.

It's okay, he said. It was something he'd said to his sister often enough that she should be able to catch the meaning.

"Why don't you take Orla to one of the rooms, and I'll come find you in a minute," Carr said before she stalked off, presumably to find the kitchen.

He managed to dredge up the strength to pretend in front of his sister. The rooms were big enough for a bed that would barely fit two people and a rickety-looking table and chair. Resh left his sister in her room, telling her he wanted to wash up.

It hadn’t been a lie, but once in his room, he couldn’t summon the energy. Instead, he sat on the edge of his bed and stared blankly at the wall, struggling to keep the memories and the feelings they contained at bay.

Image Description

[ID: The banner is a blue-green background, with tree branches arching over a set of blue-green eyes, forming an approximation of a face. The words Hidden Depths are written in white above the eyes. Any other images are purely decorative lines. end ID]

#im back! hehe #hidden depths #whump #whump writing #original writing #original characters #recovery whump #fantasy whump #angst #warnings above the cut #not that there are many #and none worth tagging down here #which is a first for me lol #are you mad at that drunk guy? huh huh huh #good 😏

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romaine2424 · 1 year

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Weekly Blog August 14, 2023

Whew! Finally making it back to the Blog. I've been occupied on the homefront with some house projects. Can I just say that peeling wallpaper is very therapeutic. Getting that large piece successfully off the wall and then the layer of glue that comes off like suntanned skin in the summer is weirdly satisfying.

I've been reading a lot of Drarry and delving into Haphne for research purposes. I hate that Harry/Daphne is called Haphne when there are really clever ship names available. I mean PotDGrass or DGrassPot are ripe for the taking. LOL Or something with Pot and Grass (have to distinguish between the Daphne and Astoria).

I've updated The Azkaban Letters with Chapter 10. I'll make a separate post for that. But I admit to being very dejected that the hit count was low for the last chapter, and I won't even get into the kudos or lack of comments, but then when posting today, I discovered a mistake I'd made in updating last time. The original publication date for the fic is June 2007. When adding a new chapter, for some reason, I have to manually update the posting date for the new chapter to the current day. I'm hoping that was the reason. *looks around nervously*

Okay, onto other goodies.

What I'm reading (and for today, What I'm Looking At):

First up is a major Art Rec. I'm sure most of you have seen it, but just in case. Keep Driving by Anonymous (Shhh, we know who it is!) from @hd-wireless is one of those pieces that is a complete game-changer for a trope. This is FemSlash!Drarry, or as the artist put it in the tags, Lesbian Road Trip Montage. Established relationship. From the get-go, we're introduced to fab badass Draco driving the car. And then we meet HJP in all of her curvaceous glory. And Draco thinks so too. In every piece after the first, we see that Draco is in awe of her love. I'm not an artist in any way, but the colouring is dreamy and summery. We feel that we're on that road trip as a fly on the wall or windshield. I've not been a big fan of FemSlash!Drarry in story or art. If you have any recs for me, send them my way, but previously most have been cutesy or PWP. This series I want to see more, I want to read more but what is there now is enough. Just absolutely stunning.

View "Keep Driving" on AO3

Second is a fic also from @hd-wireless. The Waiting (43.5K) by Anonymous is a great piece of mystery writing. Summary:

It’s been almost ten years since Draco Malfoy disappeared during a routine Curse Breaker training exercise. Harry, his partner in more ways than one, is determined to figure out why. As the past resurfaces and the present fades into confusion, Harry discovers the only thing more unreliable than memory is love.

There are two timelines in this fic, the one before Draco disappears and then the one ten years later. The one ten years later can be a bit hard to read because Harry is so lost (which means the author wrote this extremely well so we can feel his pain). There are also sections in the current timeline where we know things are wrong, as does Harry, but no one else does. It's scary, it's tense, it's delish!

One final note, read the Author's note and tags before diving into this amazing fic.

Read The Waiting on AO3

Remember, Artists and Authors need lots of love! Comment folks!

Tumblr Resource:

I'm not sure how many of you are familiar with @creativepromptsforwriting but if you're a writer or artist too I think, you could spend hours on the blog. The series for What is? on Wednesdays earlier this year was wonderful, especially for those new to writing. They're definitions of terms we see all of the time but are sometimes afraid to ask because you might look stupid. Some examples defined are What is a Drabble, Deus Ex Machina, Missing Scene, etc...

There are thousands of prompts for different genres, there are fic titles to use beginning with every letter of the alphabet, and one of my favs was Same Height Ideas; basically, what can two characters the same height do, like rub noses without bending down or looking up, staring directly into their eyes, or one wearing shoes to get the other off balance. All very cute.

Also, there are examples of dialogue one-liners even for Smut. Sorry, I could go on and on.

Take a look, and have fun exploring!

Have a Fab week!

Rom

#romaine2424 daily blog #drarry fic rec #romaine2424 fics #drarry art rec #I'm not ready for summer to be over!#Haphne is not a good ship name!

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zombeebunnie · 1 year

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Game development Trembling Essence update:

Hello hello and welcome new followers I am here with another update to share! There were a few things that caused this delay however I will continue trying my best to keep the updates weekly if I can! Thank you for being patient and understanding! :]

I ran out of typing room in my last post so I'm going to continue where I left off:

The afternoon settings/routes were already being worked on previously and I have a bit of them finished and they now lead into day 4! There's possibly one or two left but I took a pause here.

There were going to be certain CG's you could encounter but I decided to scrap at least two of them because they would be on the screen for about two or three sentences and weren't really necessary.

There were also a few dialog changes as I was going through everything. There was a certain event trigger that could happen and I decided to adjust the situation that occurs because it was a bit too unexpected. I really like the new outcome you can get from it now. :]

At some point I said I might condense one or two routes together if certain ones had a lot of similarities or if adding a specific branch itself isn't really necessary to have. I had two different choices you could make that would lead into their own unique branch. I decided to make them go into another branch instead.

This is because the choices were pretty benign and giving them a unique route wouldn't make much sense? You'd have to really go out of your way to even find these branches and it felt random since Noah wouldn't know anything about it.

For the last few routes that I have left to work on that go into Day 4, I'm brainstorming which settings they'll lead into again. I went through them and realized some could go a bit differently from what I originally had planned so things slowed down a bit here. What happens for the most(?) part in them will still be the same but just takes place at a different time. Once I got a fair amount done I took a pause here as well.

I'm still testing this but I adjusted the visual effect that appears on your screen when something is causing you to rapidly lose health(?) to make it more noticeable on the screen, I'm still brainstorming it but I kind of like how it looks now.

The process for them have been a bit slow but I'm mainly just pacing myself and making sure what I'm writing fits what's going on. I'm getting a decent flow of how I want them to go but also keeping them fairly unique enough to flesh things out. :]

For one of them specifically, there's a choice you can make that drastically extends things out more. I talked to my new play tester about it and we bounced out ideas with how it would lead. In the end, they gave me a thumbs up to go with an idea I had for it and I took what they suggested and mixed some of it in there somewhere else too. I'll eventually come back to this one because it may require more CG's. :]

Lastly, for one of the longest routes in the game I decided to unpin it and work on it.

To those who answered my question in my last update post, thank you!

I took what you all have said into consideration! :]

I ended up adjusting one part of it but only slightly. The choices and conversations will still be the same however they'll only progress to a certain limit before possibly branching elsewhere instead. The remaining portions will still occur but just somewhere else.

For the other part, I had to go in there and heavily clean it up. There was a lot going on and it got complicated trying to figure out what goes where. It had been some time since I checked on since it can go in several different directions so I had to organize a lot of the old code so it can flow better. This took up a good amount of time because I really wanted to take time out to fix this while I knew what I wanted to do. I ended up making specific choices lead down one specific path, this had to be done because if I didn't there would be too many branches and that would be incredibly overwhelming for me to try and sort out.

There were also a few minor dialog changes along with some small grammar adjustments to fit what you see visually.

Here are some of the overall bug fixes so far for some of the routes:

Grammar mistakes

Random kitchen scene happening in areas where it shouldn't

Random living room scene happening in areas where it shouldn't

CG glitch that caused a random black screen to appear

Hp loss not signaling appropriately

Certain CG's not transitioning properly

SFX's volume adjustment

A specific CG staying on the screen for longer than intended

A certain route jumping into another separate route

Certain backgrounds misaligned with the dialog in a specific choice

Thank you guys for all your support on this! I wholeheartedly appreciate the support and encouragement! :]

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substituted-shinigami · 1 year

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We… We have a lotta fun here xD

Channel Update!!!

Hello Everyone!!! Despite the, uh…rather silly presentation, I really have been working super hard on some fanworks in the background, and now I’m proud to finally present to you the “We Can’t All Be Winners” Fall Season Schedule! Plus I've got some previews for you to boot!!!

Let’s take a look!

"We Can’t All Be Winners" Fall Season Schedule plus FAQ and Previews!!!

(this post is already kinda long, (and is about to get a lot longer) so I put the rest underneath a tag xD)

October

Oct. 7th - Tiger Robe (fanfiction, renruki & Ichigo, hurt/comfort)

Oct. 14th - Three Times I Dreamed of You (fanfiction, renruki, some angsty longing but also fluff)

Oct. 21st - Who is Ichigo? (Karakura Gang Comic!)

Oct. 28th - Night Scare, Morning Care (fanfiction, renruki, hurt/comfort)

November

Nov. 4th - Double Feature! Bleach Book Club - Letters From The Other Side (light novel overview) + Roommates Assemble (Rukia & Ichigo + Karakura Gang drabble + fanart)

Nov. 11th - Bubble Tea (fanfiction, renruki + Yoruichi, slice of life, fluff)

Nov. 18th - Peaceful Day, Peaceful Night (fanfiction, renruki, fluff)

Nov. 25th - Commercial Break - Pocket Renji (Comic/fake ad)

December

Dec. 2nd - Bloodlines - Learning to Breathe (L2B) Prologue & Ch. 1 (multi-chapter fic, renruki, hurt/comfort, some angst, some humor)

Dec. 9th - L2B Ch. 2

Dec. 16th - L2B Ch. 3

Dec. 23 - L2B Ch. 4

Dec. 30 - L2B Ch. 5 & Epilogue

And that’s it! Yeah, Ichigo wasn’t kidding, it really is mostly just RenRuki fanfiction, haha!😅 Now I'm sure you all have some questions like: Wait…What is this?! Why is this?! How is this?! When is this?! And Where is this?! And I'll do my best to answer them in the FAQ below!

FAQ

Wait…What is this?!?

“We Can’t All Be Winners” or “WCABW” started out as an anthology series of RenRuki one-shots I started back in January. It contains a handful of stories featuring Renji, Rukia and occasionally others, and puts them in different scenarios, some of them canon-compliant and some of them in alternate universes. Originally, I planned to write and post one story a month, but I quickly fell behind. So I took a break and reassessed and decided to try posting in “seasons” instead. So now it’s a season of weekly uploaded fanworks to be posted from October to December, and will feature a variety of Bleach related content such as fanfiction, fanart, fan comics, bleach light novel overview, and, when I’m able to write one, a multi-chapter fic. All the fanfiction will be available on both Tumblr and AO3, but the rest will only be available on Tumblr (sorry!). Once this season is completed, I will mark the AO3 work as “completed”, and if I can do this again next year, I will start a new one!

Why is this?

Like most people, I originally planned to create and post fanworks whenever I finished them. However, I eventually found keeping up with a social media account stressful. Something about it makes you feel like you need to post all the time, even when no one else is pushing you. So I thought, hey, why not have a season! That way I have a predetermined end goal AND I don't feel like I gotta post outside of it! Plus if I feel like I need to just step away for a break (which I will most likely be doing once the queue starts running), it won't affect it since everything is already queued! So yeah, that's the idea behind it.

How do you plan to post this on AO3? It doesn’t have a queue system!

Yeah, that is a problem. My current plan is to have a tab open for each story/chapter I need to post, and then will just press the button to post it on the day it’s due to come out (or within 24 hrs). This will probably mean that the Tumblr post will link back to the table of contents of WCABW on AO3 rather than the chapter itself, so I would like to apologize for that in advance. I’ll try to fix it whenever I am able, or at the latest, when I become socially active on Tumblr again.

When is this?

Every Saturday from October 7 to December 30th at 11 am EST here on Tumblr, and within 24 hrs (either before or after) on AO3 (I'll try to make it before, but life happens sometimes). Now obviously this is no real substitute for the Bleach anime, not even close! But Saturdays were already a convenient day to post, so I thought, "Hey, why not?!" And just pushed the joke all the way!!!

Where is this?

Right here on Tumblr and on AO3 (links provided). On AO3, the one-shots will be posted under the We Can’t All Be Winners anthology series of one-shots that's already on there (if you haven't seen it yet, why not check it out? It already has some of my other one-shots on there!) The multi-chapter fic will have its own posting.

I have some questions/comments/concerns!

No problem! My ask box is always open! Now to be honest, I will be on break starting in early October, but I'll answer any I don’t see before then when I am able/get back! Also, if you are a part of the RenRuki discord, I may be checking in there from time to time even while on break.

And that’s it! Thank you all so much for reading this needlessly long and very silly announcement for Bleach fanworks of all things! To thank you for making it to the end, I added some previews for some of the upcoming works!! I hope you all enjoy!!! xD

PREVIEWS!!!

(Note: works are subject to minor changes)

Three Times I Dreamed of You

Chapter Summary: Nightmares are always terrible. But they are made even worse when you aren’t even able to talk to the person that they are about. (RenRuki, some angsty longing but also fluff)

"Rukia!"

Renji awoke with a start, sweat dripping down his brow. He whipped his head around wildly, as he mopped off his forehead with his sleeve. He was alone, utterly alone. Quickly he reached out with his spiritual pressure to feel hers, his heart pounding loudly in his ears. Finally, he found her, a tiny cold gust on a frigid winter night. It felt so impossibly far away, but… it was enough. Renji left the Eleventh Division barrack's dorm and climbed on top of the roof to feel it better.

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Tiger Robe

Chapter Summary: While shopping with Ichigo in the World of the Living, Rukia finds a tiger print robe that reminds her of someone from her past. (renruki & Ichigo, hurt/comfort, Starts out in the Soul Society Arc, but then jumps around a couple of times)

“Okay, we're here,” Kurosaki Ichigo began as they entered the clothing store, “The women’s section is in the back. If you need clothes, I don’t mind buying you a set or two, so can you just please stop stealing Yuzu’s?!? She’s starting to get suspicious…” But Rukia wasn't listening to him. Instead, she was looking around the store, completely enthralled.

“Woah! This is incredible!” Rukia replied with wonder, as her wide eyes flitted from one brightly colored clothing display to the next, “And you can afford such garments on your allowance alone?” Ichigo raised an eyebrow at her in response.

“Yeah…? It’s just a cheap department store, Rukia.”

“Incredible…” she muttered to herself again as she continued to look around the huge, lively store with a mixture of awe and nervousness. Several people passed them by, chatting as they filed in or out of the entrance, and loud music played on the speakers overhead.

This is nothing like the open markets that sold only rags in Inuzuri, she thought, And once I got adopted by the Kuchiki Clan, the tailors came to me. I don’t think I’ve been to anything even resembling a regular clothing store since the Academy. There is too much choice! What should I…?

Rukia could feel Ichigo’s concerned eyes on the back of her neck. Quickly, she stood up straighter, and turned towards him.

“You said, I could get whatever I wanted, right?!” she asked with a devilish grin. Ichigo sighed heavily as if he was immediately regretting both this decision and his entire existence. He scratched the back of his head.

“Within reason! I’m not rich, you know," he scowled, "You can get one everyday outfit and one sleepwear, that’s it!” With that, he set off across the store.

“Ah! You're so stingy, Ichigo!” Rukia teased as she followed after him.

“Keep talking smack, and I’ll make you shop in the children’s section!”

“I might anyway,” Rukia mused, as they passed by a pair of child’s pajamas with bunnies on them, “children’s clothes have nicer prints.”

“Whatever,” Ichigo replied, “Wear what you want when you sleep, but when you are out and about, try to wear typical 'teen clothes'. Otherwise people might get the wrong idea when we are walking together.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rukia dismissed with a wave of her hand. As they continued walking along on their way to the back of the store, passing from the children's section into the men's, Rukia’s eyes were caught by a brightly colored robe. Turning towards it, she felt taken aback when she beheld the largest, tackiest tiger print bathrobe she had ever seen. Suddenly, she felt like she was thrown back over forty years…

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Bubble Tea

Chapter Summary: Relaxing is difficult when you are so used to fighting. Now that the Winter War is over, Rukia and Renji shoot the breeze and talk about the future. (renruki + Yoruichi, slice of life, fluff, During the Fullbringer Arc timeskip)

“Hmmm… Getting to know you without the fangs of death constantly nipping at our heels feels…weird,” Rukia commented suddenly, and a little too casually, one day as she sipped her bubble tea. Renji coughed in surprise. That or he got another tapioca pearl stuck in his throat, Rukia wasn't too sure.

“H-Huh?!" he spluttered, after he had finally begun to recover.

"Well, think about it," Rukia continued, as she settled her cup down beside her upon the park bench. She began to list things off on her fingers, “First it was surviving in Rukongai, then Aizen's betrayal, and then the Winter War. Whenever we were together it felt like our lives were in constant mortal danger. That it was us against the world. But now…now there’s no real threat.”

"Oh yeah…" Renji agreed, looking up to the sky in thought, "I guess, you're right…huh."

“Yeah," Rukia went on as she picked up her cup again, "The only other time it was seemingly this peaceful was when we were separated."

At that, Renji was silent for a moment, before asking quietly, "Kind of makes you wonder whether or not we're cursed, huh?" Rukia turned to look up at him, but Renji continued to stare up at the sky.

"If we are cursed," she began slowly, "then whoever made it, absolutely sucks at making curses," Renji quirked an eyebrow at her as she turned back towards her tea, "Curses are meant to make you the most miserable, but despite the dangers, I'm always more miserable when we're apart." Renji stared at her wide-eyed as she went back to sipping her tea.

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Learning to Breathe

Story Summary: Turns out purple eyes and short stature aren’t the only things that run in Hisana’s family, illness does as well. As Rukia and Renji try to help each other navigate through this new storm in their lives, will they remember to take time to breathe? (multi-chapter fic, renruki, hurt/comfort, some angst, some humor, Post TYBW, Rukia gets the same disease that killed Hisana. (Bloodlines AU))

Here’s a scene from chapter 1:

I faced an execution. I faced an espada's blade. I even faced a man who could literally murder me with fear. And yet, tiny medical needles are too much for me? You are utterly ridiculous, Kuchiki Rukia… Rukia thought glumly to herself, as she laid in bed one chilly morning before yet another doctor’s appointment. She began chuckling wryly, I've heard the pen is mightier than the sword, but I think the medical needle might be mightier still.

Rukia stared up at her bedroom ceiling, the sound of the room's clock ticking loudly in her ears. She'd been laying there for hours as sleep frustratingly eluded her. Sighing, she tried rolling over and closing her eyes again, but she couldn't shut out the anxious thoughts that plagued her mind.

I really hope today’s tests don’t have them. If I can’t get through these appointments without stressing out everytime I see one, then I’ll never convince him that he can rest, because I’ll be okay. That it will all be okay in the end. Hopefully…

Suddenly, Rukia’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the alarm on her soul pager going off. Again. Rukia’s hand shot out, flipped the infernal device open, and managed to press the snooze button for the third time that morning without even looking at it. She went back to staring up at the ceiling.

Guess I better get up now, huh? Can't keep putting it off, after all… My friends, my brother, and…Renji… they’re all so worried about me, so I can’t… I can’t be weak… I must be strong for them.

Rukia sighed, her stomach already all up in knots. Taking a deep breath to center herself, she forced herself to sit up. As she looked out her bedroom window towards the sky, she saw that it was pitch-black, that even the stars were blocked out by clouds.

Hmmm… Looks like a storm is rolling in too… Figures…

Rukia slowly pushed off her blankets and got up to search for her clothes. She thought about just wearing her black shinigami uniform, but she already knew neither her third seat nor her escort were going to let her go back to work this afternoon. Speaking of her escort…

Rukia left her room, a neatly folded dark blue kimono tucked underneath her arm, and approached the door of the guest room next to hers. She lifted her hand to knock, but paused.

I could just leave without waking him… she thought briefly, Let him sleep in. Gods know he needs it. That way, when I make it through the appointment on my own, he’ll see he has nothing to worry about! But she quickly shook herself. No! No, I don’t do that anymore! I don’t just run away... I talk about it. We talk about it. And even if we can’t figure it out, we still do even that together. Rukia took a deep breath, glared resolutely at the door, and knocked.

“Oi, Renji, you awake in there?” She heard what sounded like a groan to the affirmative. “Okay, just so you know, we’ve got to leave in an hour.”

“Mhmm… Yup. I got you,” he responded groggily. This was soon followed by the sound of very fast shuffling, a very loud bang, an almost as loud curse, and then more shuffling. Rukia raised an amused eyebrow at that.

“You good in there? All your limbs still present and accounted for?”

“Ha ha. Very funny. And yes, I’m fine. Thanks so much for your concern.”

“Of course!” Rukia smirked. However, the heavy feeling inside her soon dragged the corners of her lips back down. She took another deep breath. Here we go… "Oi, Renji…" she began quietly, "If you are too tired, it's okay, y'know? It's like I said before, it’s basically just a long doctor's appointment. I'll…I’ll be okay going by myself."

At that, Rukia heard the stomping sound of footsteps coming rapidly towards her, followed by the shoji door immediately sliding open with a sharp bang. Renji looked rather frazzled, with his sleeping robe half hanging off of his shoulder and his hair loosely pulled into a messy braid. He also looked rather cute…at least until he started shouting.

“WHAT? NO! OF COURSE I'M COMING WITH YOU, IDIOT!”

“QUIET, RENJI! ARE YOU TRYING TO WAKE UP THE ENTIRE HOUSEHOLD WITH YOUR RACKET?!?”

"You are way louder than me!" Renji replied in his terrible attempt at a whisper, "In any case, don't try to change the subject like that. You are downplaying it again, I know it. They are running medical tests today too, and I know those tend to make you nervous.” He managed to actually say that last part quietly. Then he smiled at her, “We're in this together, ya?" His lips might have been smiling, but Rukia saw his eyes. He was exhausted. She felt her heart lurch into her throat.

"Ya, well…don't go overdoing it, okay?" Rukia told him firmly as she fixed his robe for him, but her fingers lingered on his shoulder. Renji placed his hand over hers.

"Hmph… As if I could ever do too much for you… I'm fine, Rukia, really. Go get changed."

"Okay…" she murmured quietly, looking down. However, her face must have betrayed her troubled thoughts, because when she tried to remove her hand from his shoulder, Renji held it firm. She looked back up at him and he tilted his head down closer to hers.

"I love you~" he whispered to her in a cheeky sing-song voice with that toothy grin of his. He was clearly trying to lighten the mood, to make her smile or push him off and call him a dork, but instead Rukia felt her heart, already firmly lodged in her throat, leap even higher into her mouth.

“I know…” she barely got out, “I know Renji, but…”

“Uh uh. No ‘buts’, Ru. Go ahead and take your bath. I’ll see you in an hour, alright?” He winked and let go of her hand as he cheerfully went back into the guest room, closing the door behind him.

Rukia, on the other hand, just stood there, staring at the floor.

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And that's it for the previews! If you somehow made it all the way to the end, thanks so much for reading! The "We Can't All Be Winners" Fall Season starts next week! Hope to see you there!

#renruki #renruki fanworks incoming!!!#and some other characters too sometimes xD #hold on tight y'all #you're about to go on a bumpy and very fanfic-y ride!#Sorry to subject you all to this #but I gotta post my madness somewhere!!!

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highdefinitions · 1 year

Note

I was just wondering if you are going to continue the "and so it goes" series? I absolutely loved the first two chapters!

PSA: anyone that reads and so it goes should probably read this to just get the feel of what i've been feeling!!! sorry if it's long but i've wanted to talk about some things and just haven't really known how to go about it.

to actually answer your question, i will be posting chapter four on monday. i'll continue to post what i have on mondays until i don't have anything pre-written to post.

okay so i'm not angry at you per se but the more i see this question the more slightly annoyed i get. i'm not going at you, anon, but i am going to use your ask to talk about some things.

so far with and so it goes, i have chapters one through three posted. after that, i have up to chapter twelve completed and maybe a third of chapter 13 written. at this point, right now, i don't know if i will finish it. i feel too far removed in a way (i started this fic before i had ever even created a tumblr and was just going to write it for the hell of it). this fic has been up in the air for probably a little more than a year now and got shoved to the side by other projects (sparrowverse, the dead don't die, other writing i've posted) and now that i've tried to go back to it, it's hard. i write differently, the story is a little lost on me, i don't like it as much. it's difficult as a writer to just write when i don't particularly feel 100% involved in the project or entirely like it anymore. i posted it because i thought people would like it, but it seems that a large number of you do not. which might be another factor playing into this that makes me feel even less motivated.

as for the question of when are you going to update again, i've seen it many times. and i just don't know why. since i've announced and so it goes, i've been updating it weekly. i've posted a new chapter every monday since i've started actually posting it, and i cannot seem to understand the fact that people are already asking me when the next one is coming. pre-written or not, one chapter a week is pretty damn good to me. overloading and posting everything at once is silly to me and asking for even more questions like this while i try and cram to write the next chapter. you guys do have to remember that i have a life. i work two jobs, go to college full time, i have animals that need multiple hours of attention each week, as well as all the commuting i do to jobs and work and just general life activities. it's sometimes stressful and i don't like to create that added pressure on myself with writing. i do this to relax. and quite frankly, i do not owe anyone but myself anything pertaining to my writing.

with this being said, i appreciate everyone's excitement surrounding one of my fics. i love that you love what i'm writing, but i am an anxious person. i overthink and i put pressure on myself to be something i cannot physically be. i can't crank out writing like some people can, i'm too critical of myself. if i don't think it's good, it's not going anywhere. i am my own biggest critic and there's been times where i have deleted entire chapters just to rewrite them. i don't have that ability to sometimes just say, it is what it is when it comes to writing.

and it might sound like i'm saying i don't enjoy gvf anymore. of course, i do. i love their music and the boys and i'm so excited for their new album. it's just writing that doesn't particularly excite me anymore. and i might very well circle back to writing them again in the future. it happens. i go through cycles with what i enjoy writing and who i enjoy writing about. even right now i have other projects that i'm working on that i'm happy to write.

this might even lead to more questions, so if you actually read this, and do have other questions for me, don't hesitate to ask me. i want you guys to understand and make sure you don't feel like i'm abandoning ship. please ask if there's something you want to know

#percy’s asks #and so it goes

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senstless · 1 year

Text

Splinterlands Highlights - Featuring AVES STURIGS dominating a low mana match

Featuring Bronze League Summoner and Monsters in Action!

I was pretty excited when I pulled this from rewards the other week. Getting a new legendary card is always fun and figuring out how to use it in the best use cases and I'll be very rewarding. I think I finally found my preferred use for this card although I'm sure there's more. I can think of a few where adding some high mana non-attacking cards from the untamed set could also be very beneficial but for today we're going to highlight low man a match.

Weekly Highlight -AVES STURGIS

Edition: SOULBOUND REWARD Rarity: LEGENDARY Element: LIFE Attack: MAGIC Abilities: WEAPONS TRAINING Abilities" Health: 3 Speed: 2 Attack: 2 Armor: 1 Reasons Why I like it

Weapons training is relatively new, but it is one of my favorite abilities. Having the ability to give one half of the cards base attack to the neighboring otherwise non attacking cards can be one of the most powerful abilities there is. A couple of the use cases I have found is weapons training a Gladius card that has bloodlust that otherwise can't attack, adding an attack to low One Man cards and giving them a two arrow attack, or in this case giving cards that usually don't have an attack or they already have another ability like repair a one magic attack in a low manner match

The Matchup - Where Rules Sets, Splinters and Mana Collide

The Rule Sets

Watch the Match Here

MANA: 12

Ruleset: Standard: No modification to the standard gameplay rules and mechanics.

SPLINTERS: Life, Dragon

Initial Rule Set and Mana Gameplay Thoughts

** Rulesets Luckily it's a standard rule set match so there's no special considerations to factor when picking your line up. This is useful since it's only 12 mana and two splinters to choose from. Adding an additional rule set would make it even harder.

Mana I will be the first to admit that long mana matches are my Achilles heel. I typically have very poor lineups and I don't do a good job of balancing or focusing on attack. I either focus too much on a singular card hoping it can do everything, or at best I end up being unbalanced and run over very quickly. ** Splinters

Having only the two splinters made it pretty easy in my mind. I wanted to go with life and I want to add the extra health given the low mana I figured an extra health might go a long way for some of the cards I'm going to pick.

Summoner MOTHER KALA Like I mentioned before I clearly wanted to plus one health as well as only wanting to spend three mana on a summoner versus for, I feel like spending that extra man I can be the difference in this game.

First Position SOUL FIEND Traditionally I wouldn't put it first but given the rest of my lineup it clearly had to go first and get taken out right away

Second Position PELACOR CONJURER Normally a very solid choice for first position, only costs two mana has a high speed of four with flying and it might generate some misses. But now if I get to add one magic attack to it it becomes much more powerful as it lasts a couple of rounds before getting taken out.

Third Position AVES STRUGIS

Had to put it in second position so I can surround it with other one mana non-attacking cards. I would have liked to hide it a little bit but it does have for health after the boost from the summoner so it will have to do.

Fourth Position CHAOS AGENT I put it at the back in case they chose to play so melee cards. The off I'd hope that the Dodge can come through for me and the additional magic attack should help out quite a bit. It now means I'm delivering four magic damage every round.

Opponent Lineup & Match Play

Summoner QUIX THE DEVIOUS The reduction of speed will be detrimental to my team and make it easier for me to be hit, but luckily the minus one arrows doesn't do anything for me. It does give them access to dragons which is why they probably picked it

DJINN CHWALA My old go to every single time low man of match card. It's just such a well-balanced card dealing three damage on melee, two on Thorn for a melee attacking cards, and has some hefty armor and health to boot

SOUL FIEND Clearly just put it back to take up some attacks or maybe pull through if it moves to the front line

Round 1

Before the match starts I'm actually feeling pretty good for once. I feel like I have picked the perfect counter to traditional powerhouse lineup. While I'm going to lose some cards, dealing for magic each round is going to be their Achilles heel.

Round one is mostly uneventful. I lose sulfiend as expected, but the good news is I took away for health from Djinn Chwala

Round 2

Round two is really looking in my favor. While Pelacour conjurer did take three damage from Chwala, the four magic damage I dealt was far more significant. This is the power of weapons training as I turned one monster dealing to damage into three monsters dealing for healthy drowned.

Round 3

Wow my speed is reduced, I still attack first and I knock out Djinn Chwala, quickly followed by soul fiend. This was a fairly quick victory only lasting three rounds but I guess that is to be expected with a 12-minute match

Thoughts

This is going to be my new low mana lineup. I think it gives a excellent blend of health, attack, and defense against a variety of teams. I'm sure that there are teams that can beat this but it feels like a pretty solid choice in most scenarios.

~~@senstless

#splinterlands #play2earn #playtoearn #nft #gaming

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brattyfics · 3 years

Text

Like That

Pairing: Rio x Black!Reader

Summary: You and Rio get to know each other better. Loosely based on ‘Like That’ by Doja Cat.

Warnings: Smut.

Word Count: 3.5K

Installments: Say So | Like That | Talk Dirty

And baby, I want it, and I'll just be honest 'Cause I just can't front when I look at you

About six weeks have passed since Rio declared himself your man, and you quickly learned he took the title very seriously.

He was busier than usual with ‘flipping his game,’ and you were busy preparing to transition your shop, but you saw each other often despite time constraints. You agreed date nights at least once a week were a must, but when you couldn’t see each other, Rio made sure to end nights with a phone call. Virtually falling asleep next to him gave you butterflies, reminding you just how exciting new relationships could be. It took prodding, but he told you made-up bedtime stories and the boring details of his day. In return, you shared things about yourself— childhood memories, the crazy things your mom did to embarrass you. He was sweet and attentive, and you found it refreshing to be with someone who was just as infatuated with you.

On your second date, he took you to his favorite restaurant, a fancy sushi place with expensive rolls. He taught you to hold chopsticks the wrong way the way he did and even fed you across the small table, a couple of unfortunate rolls falling apart due to his prodding. You tried your best to hide your amusement at the pensive look on his face. For whatever reason, Rio thought of himself as a sushi connoisseur, but it was clear to you that he was still learning.

“You’re no better than me!” He admonished when he noticed the way you held your chopsticks. Like his technique, it was incorrect, but it worked for you— sort of. “I never said I was.” You couldn’t keep the amusement off your face any longer. “You’re the one who comes here weekly. I thought you were a professional, and we’re in the same boat.” He folded his arms on top of the table as he insisted you were wrong, but secretly he found your teasing endearing. Later that night, he called and gave you a cheesy line about loving to see you smile.

The following week, you had lunch at a mom-and-pop soul food restaurant that served the best cornbread and peach cobbler in the city. The owners, an adorable older couple, Donna and Gene, and servers alike stopped by your table to meet Rio. Donna gushed over Rio, showering him with compliments and extra cornbread. “Girl, he is cute!” She told you, failing miserably at whispering. He smirked as you rolled your eyes, but he handled the attention well, being friendly and personable even when Gene kept going on and on about changes to the menu, one chef to another.

A few days later, he called you up randomly and asked you to get ready and ride with him somewhere. “What should I wear?” You asked, hoping for a hint. You could hear him smile as he said, “It doesn’t even matter, ma. You always look good.” The occasion had turned out to be ‘Foodtruck Friday.’ Barbecue, kebab, taco, ice cream, and other miscellaneous food trucks were parked in a spacious lot in Downtown Detroit. You settled at a picnic table and shared several plates of food as you discussed the possibility of your own mobile ‘Mad Batter’ shop somewhere down the line. It got you thinking about the future.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?” You asked the dreaded question in between bites of a colorful Korean fusion taco. He stiffened as he considered the answer. “What is this, a job interview?” Sometimes you saw peeks of bossman Rio rather than the Christopher Castillo you were getting to know. It happened seemingly out of nowhere when you asked questions he felt were invasive.

You looked up from the panko-fried shrimp, red cabbage, shredded carrots, and tasty orange sauce wrapped up in a flour tortilla with a frown. You had two choices: respond in the way he had or make light of the situation. So, you said, “Kinda. You’re auditioning for a spot on my roster, so...”

He stopped chewing the half-eaten dumpling and swallowed hard. “That’s not funny.”

“You better start taking the interviewing part of the audition more seriously then.” You wiped your fingers on a napkin, and he gathered your hand in his own, wearing a look you couldn’t decipher. “You got it, ma.”

You played a game of mini-golf at the local arcade. Rio stood tall behind you, holding you by your hips as he corrected your stance. You purposefully arched your back, brushing against him just slightly. “Like this?” You looked over your shoulder with the most innocent look you could muster, but his eyes were glued to your ass. “Yeah, just like that.” He answered in a low tone without looking up. You giggled as you took your swing, adding a wiggle for his benefit. You pretended to care about the ball as it glided across the bright green tarp towards the hole. “How was that?” You chirped, looking down the lane.

“I can’t even lie. I don’t care about the game right now. I just wanna watch you.” Your aim was terrible, and the ball never went in the hole without several attempts, but he insisted you finish playing the course. You teased him about it for days after despite his claim that he actually enjoyed the game because it was one of Marcus’ favorites.

“Stop lying! You just wanted an excuse to openly watch my ass.”

“Why you always gotta call me out?”

You shopped a cozy health and wellness store with hundreds of cool little trinkets for sale. Neither of you had been there before, so you took your time exploring, stealing unexpected kisses from the other. Rio took full advantage of the size of the store, pulling you by the hand and holding you close to his side.

He frowned at the large collection of shiny crystals. “A rock, really? What does anybody need with a rock?”

“It’s not a rock!” You hissed, head whipping around as you hoped the owner didn’t hear him.

“What is it then? It looks like a rock to me.” He picked one up, turning it over in his hands.

“It’s a crystal!”

“What’s the difference?”

“It has healing properties...” Rio snorted but strung his arm across your shoulder and listened intently as you read the info cards to him. When it was all said and done, he bought an aventurine stone to apologize to the owner for prosperity, well-being, and good luck.

The next day, he disappeared with no warning. You had been worried sick until Mick let you know he was busy handling something. It would have only taken a minute to tell you that, so you were (understandably) pissed. He showed up at the shop several days later like nothing had ever happened. “What’s up, mama?” The greeting that usually melted you grated on your nerves. All of your feelings about the situation bubbled up to the surface. It was hard to find the right words— you were still getting to know each other, so how mad could you be? At the same time, how little did he think of you to not say anything? Finally, you settled on, “I can’t do the disappearing act.”

Rio wasn’t used to answering to anyone, not even his child’s mother, about his whereabouts, but he put his palms up in surrender when he saw the serious expression you wore.

“You’re right, mama. That’s my bad. It won’t happen again.”

And it hadn’t.

But knowing ahead of time only made it a tiny bit easier, especially when he didn’t have a set return date. You were going on day seven (the longest you had gone without seeing him since you started dating) when he called to say he made it home and wanted to see you. Your heavy heart swelled with relief. You missed him way more than you probably should have, so you insisted on a night in at your place, wanting him to feel relaxed and at home instead of on guard somewhere public.

It had been a long six weeks without sex while he romanced you with delicious food and beautiful words. It wasn’t an easy task, but you knew as soon as sex was thrown in the mix, you would be done for, either destined to be his or ruined by him. It was a scary thought, but distance had indeed made the heart grow fonder, and you cared about him enough to take a chance.

He was set to arrive within the hour, but you were still unsure of what to wear, frantically rummaging through the dresser for something cute and comfortable. You let out a frustrated groan when your phone started to ring, thinking Rio might have come early, but when you look down at your phone, you see your best friend’s name and face. You swipe quickly, accepting the FaceTime call. “Hey, girl!”

“Hey, stranger!” You pick up the phone, so you can look at her. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” She replies with just as much sass. “I haven’t talked to you in what— two weeks?”

“We talk—“

“—text.”

“Okay, fine. Text. We text every day. What are you talking about?”

“That’s not the same.” She insists even as you remind her of the ridiculous amount of time you spend trading memes and food pictures with her.

“Anyway, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to decide what I’m going to wear between this, this, or this.” You move the camera around, showing her the different options. A black-and-white tank and short set with ‘Being cute is not a crime’ in a cute font. A fuzzy grey sweatsuit set with hearts, or a simple cream hoodie with matching shorts.

“Um, what’s the occasion?” You giggle at the look on her face, knowing she thinks none of the above are appropriate for wearing outside of the house.

“Movie night in.”

“You need help picking an outfit for movie night with yourself?” Her face scrunches up in confusion. “Wait, is it movie night with yourself?” You try to be casual about it, shrugging your shoulders in response. As usual, she sees through your bullshit and goes straight into an interrogation. “Oh, bitch. You been holding out on me!” She asks you five questions in a row without stopping to breathe before settling on one. “Who?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip. “...Rio.”

“Rio?” She frowns. “Like the guy we work for, Rio? With the eyebrows and the neck tattoo, Rio?”

“Yes, that Rio.”

“Wow.” You wince but decide it’s best to get it over with. “What? I know you, so I know there’s more where that came from.”

“I don’t know what to say! From what I can tell, he’s a decent dude, I guess, but you know what he does. You definitely know what we do for him! You don’t think that could be a problem?”

“It’s messy, for sure, and I can admit that, but I’ve been thinking about getting out anyway...” She nods. “Then, I guess there’s nothing else for me to say about that. You’re both grown, and you know what you’re doing.” She was your best friend, which meant she’d always give her honest opinion, but wouldn’t berate you about your choices. Just like that, you return to your regular discussion topics, everything from warehouse gossip (yes, even in the business of crime, there’s a rumor mill) to new music releases. Before you knew it, forty minutes had passed, and Rio was calling your phone. You promised to call her more often before hanging up.

You sing your ‘hello’ into the phone, hoping Rio can’t detect the shakiness in your voice as you clumsily pull on your bottoms.

“Hey, mama. You about ready? I know you’re sensitive about your space and all that.” He was referring to the fact that he had never been past the doorway of your home. Your home was your sacred place, so you were extra careful about who came in and what energy they brought. It was always nerve-wracking to let somebody into the space that you cherished so much.

“Yeah.” He picks up on the hesitancy in your voice. “Are you sure?” You nod your head as if he can see you before telling him yes with a giggle. “Alright, well, I’m outside. Can I come in?” You bite your lip, butterflies fluttering in your tummy. “Yeah, I’ll come unlock the door.” He whispers his thanks, and you take a moment to force yourself to relax. When you meet him at the door, you do so with an open mind and heart, taking in his appearance with a goofy grin on your face. As usual, he’s dressed in all black, wearing a well-fitted t-shirt and sweatpants. He’s casual but still so high quality and attractive.

“Hi.” You breathe out like a dork when you realize you’re staring. It helps that he seems just as mesmerized, stepping forward to envelop you in a tight, warm hug. He sways you from side to side before pulling back, his hands resting heavily on the top of your ass. He settles for a quick peck on the lips because he has something to say. “You’re as pretty as ever, darlin’.” He says earnestly, shaking his head as he steps back to look you over once more.

“Kiss me again.” His hands cup your ass as you devour each other in the open doorway. You forget your surroundings. “Damn, ma. Can I at least get inside before you jump my bones? I don’t mind giving your neighbors a show if that’s your thing, but…” You turn to hide your embarrassment, leaving him to close the door behind you as you gesture around the room as if you’re in an episode of MTV Cribs. “... here’s the living room. The kitchen’s through the arch. The bathroom’s over there...” He follows you with his red as you point.

“And the bedroom?”

You snort. “The tour stops here for now. Sit down.” Your tone leaves no room for argument. He settles into the soft couch while you grab the snack tray from the kitchen. Homemade popcorn, chocolate-covered pretzels, and dried fruit gummies are on the menu.

“All this for me?” His arms snake around your waist so that you can curl up into his side. “What we watching?” You grab the remote. “I saw a trailer this week that caught my attention. I’ll play it for you.” He didn’t care what you watched as long as he got to be close to you, so it didn’t take long for you to get the movie started. He stole glances at you when his knuckles brushed against your bare knees under the blanket. You’re embarrassed at how wet the small action makes you, so you stretch out across the couch and place your bare feet in his lap, silently planning your revenge. The movie may as well not be playing because you couldn’t be less interested in the plot as you lightly stroke him through his sweatpants with the balls of your feet.

“Ma...” He warns, watching you in the low lighting. He’s come to learn you like to tease, but he doesn’t think he can take it, not tonight. “Hmm?” You hum innocently, loving the strained look on your face. He doesn’t move even as you sit up on your haunches and kiss him. It’s slow and long in the best way. He pulls you to sit in his lap. His hands roam your body as you grind down onto him, relishing in the feeling of the soft skin on your tummy. He sighs into your mouth as one hand finds your bare breasts.

He pulls away to talk shit. “No bra? You just knew I was gonna put out, huh?” He pushes the cotton material up so he can see you properly. “Perfect.” He murmurs into your skin. You let him kiss and lick and suck on your nipples until the pressure you feel below is too much to handle. You’re a quivering mess when he finally helps you pull the cotton material up and over your head. It lands on top of the television behind you, but neither of you notice.

You nudge him until he removes his own shirt, and then he lifts his hips to help you when you begin tugging on his sweats. They puddle at his feet while you spread your legs wide, desperate to get your hands on him. “I could cry right now.” You admit honestly when you finally see him, biting your lip. He arches a brow. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing, darlin’?” His hips jerk when you take him into your hands, the cold temperature surprising him.

“It’s definitely a good thing.” You whisper excitedly, staring with wonder as he hardens in your hands. He barks out a laugh, stunned by your ability to make him laugh, even with his dick in your hands. “That’s really nice, ma. I feel real special.” Your eyes meet, and silent promises of all the filthy things you’re going to do to each other are exchanged. “You should. I’m about to change your life.” He throbs in your hands, loving that you find small ways to challenge him.

“Come on. Let’s go to bed.” He wraps his arms around you in preparation to get up, but you stop him with a shake of your head. “I don’t wanna.”

“No? What you wanna do then?”

You answer him by slipping to your knees. You spit on his dick, stroking him up and down slowly. He watches you closely as you lower your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tip. It takes a lot of restraint, but he lets you do your thing, slowly working him deeper into your throat. He closes his eyes as he concentrates on lasting, but he can’t turn his ears off, the obscene smacks painting a vivid picture for him. When you swipe your tongue across his balls, he moves to stop you, grabbing your shoulders. Fire dances in your eyes as you realize you got him where you want him. “I don’t wanna.” You repeat.

“You are a brat.”

You release him with a pop. “The biggest.” You admit, swallowing him once more. He groans, thinking he can’t believe you’re the same sweet girl who bakes in a frilly pink apron and begs him to tell her bedtime stories.

“I want you to fuck me now.” He stops you before you can bend over the couch. “Slow down. I want you on your back, darlin.”

You throw his earlier words back at him. “That’s nice. I feel really special.”

“You should.” He mocks you, instructing you to hold your legs wide. He wastes no time licking and sucking you as enthusiastically as you had done him. “You’re so pretty. I could eat this pretty pussy forever.” He compliments as you squirm in his hold. “You’d let me, huh?” You shake your head frantically. “No! You’d drive..me crazy!” Payback is a mother, especially when Rio’s the one dishing it out. “Wait, wait—“You whimper, clawing at his shoulders.

“What?” He cajoles. He almost wants to laugh at the distressed look on your face. “I want you.” You pout, trying to sweet-talk him.

“You have me.”

“Not like this. Inside.”

“Yeah? You sure?”

“Mhm.” You swallow, watching as he fumbles around with his pants searching for a condom. He opens the golden foil packet with expert fingers, positioning himself in between your spread legs. “You don’t have any pointers for me now?” He drags his tip up and down your slit, slowly pushing his way further. Teasing. You shake your head. “No. Just fuck me.”

“That ain’t polite. You gotta say please, mama.” You scowled, but he didn’t budge. “Please.” You pleaded with the sweetest tone you could muster, sighing as he gave in. You cursed at the stretch, him at the way you squeezed him. “You feel…” He couldn’t find the words, so he buried his face in your neck, trying to gain some composure. You caressed the back of his neck sweetly. “You feel good too, baby.”

His hips stuttered forward, and you gasped as he worked himself deeper. You grasp his shoulders tightly, your nails embedding themselves into the soft skin.

“Yes!” You squeal.

“Like that?” He grits out, struggling to keep his rhythm.

“Yes, just like that!” You cry, moaning as he pounds up into you. His lips find yours again, and it’s bliss. Then before you can stop yourself, you’re calling him Daddy like it’s his given name. He groans into your sweaty neck like he’s in pain.

“You’re so nasty.” Overwhelmed and breathless, you whine your protest, “You’re nasty. Look at what you’re doing to me.” His eyes shift to where you’re connected. You’re creaming all over him and leaking down onto the couch, but you can’t bring yourself to care about anything other than coming. You do just that, mewling as you make an even bigger mess between your legs. He whispers filthy things into your ear as he finishes, grunting at the way you seem to be sucking him in even deeper.

“That was—“

“—unreal.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you can bring yourself to move. Your sweat-covered skin sticks together. You swipe your hand against your forehead while he pants.

“I wanted to ride you at least once tonight, but after that, I’ll be lucky to make it to bed.”

GENERAL TAGLIST

@woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus @sparklemichele @luckyharley1903

RIO TAGLIST

@xsweetdellzx

#good girls rio #nbc good girls #manny montana #rio x reader #rio x black!reader

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yoiku · 2 years

Text

Just some thoughts and wonderings about my comic project under the cut. Comments and thoughts are very welcome if you might have any!

Now that I've finished the first sketchbook of comic draft (119pages), scanned all of them and sorted them into chapters... I'm thinking a lot about what kind of update frequency and page amount I should be going for. All I know is that as a start I want to post the entire starting chapter (15pages) so people can get an idea of what's it going to be like. Maybe I'll figure out a suitable pace once I've digitized/drawn clean a small amount of pages, to see what kind of pace I can draw them with in general. (I'm sure it'll get faster once I get used to the layout and tools and all that.) But I'm still wondering what kind of chunks should I update with to have a good "rhytmn" so to say, so that it doesn't feel like it's updating too few pages at a time and people would feel like it's difficult to stay on top of the story over time. That is to say, people like to read (web)comics differently anyway, some won't bother to check small updates weekly/biweekly etc, and will rather come back to read when there's been a bigger chunk of new pages. So far my chapters seem to be around 20 pages, with few being 30-40... Would be cool to be able to update a whole chapter/month and the larger ones bi-monthly... But I don't think I could keep up a pace like that, esp with the latter chapters that will have huge amount of backgrounds to be drawn. So I'm pretty sure I have to go with smaller chunks. Personally i feel like 2-3 pages/week seems doable, but I also feel like that's not very fitting with how the pace of the comic is. So maybe 4-6pages biweekly would be better...? I will of course have a longer break every now and then so I can keep up with the draft and allow myself proper breaks too, but generally I would reaaaally like to do my best to keep up at least somewhat of a steady pace >_< I know I work better with structure and clear plans, but I'm also absolutely terrible at keeping any routines and schedules of my own making.(And nobody can predict artblocks or depressive episodes q_q)

I've also struggled over trying to figure out the name/title for the whole thing for a few months now. I've browsed thesaurus for words and their meanings so much with no real progress x_x

And another topic of many questions has been I will I publish it. Am I just going to make a site of my own for it that I can fully manage myself (shitton of extra work tho and probably some costs...) Am I going to publish it on something like Tapas.io and maybe be able to make some ad revenue money on the side? Am I going to start a patreon to publish it on? (would definitely turn away people even if it's 1$/month to get access to it)

Another thing that definitely throws some sticks in the gears about the publishing bit is that I'm planning on having the spicy bits of the comic be optional. So people who aren't interested in reading sexual content can skip the spicy bits without it making too big of a difference in the depth of the story. Vast majority of it is fluff after all. Buuuut. The spicy bits. Part of me really wants to put those behind a small paywall like patreon, because boy would I need some extra monies and boy do I know that people who are into spicy content are often willing to pay for it too if it hits their interests. But this whole separation of parts in the chapters will make it difficult or weird to try and publish on places like Tapas etc, that have separate sections for PG/adult rated comics. Also if I'd simply publish it as an adult one and it will be 80% fluff... I think people who search for spicy comics will keep interest in it - meanwhile it would also not find the audience that will never even search through the adult section. If I published through my own site via, say... squarespace, I could throw a link to patreon or such at the point where the spicy chapters would be...? OR I could just upload all of it with the spicy bits and just put in clear a clear warning and option to skip past the spicy bit for those uninterested. + I could do the thing that public uploads are slower but you can access new pages earlier through Patreon. This would make it optional for everyone which would be the... kindest choice I feel, while still giving me the possibility of making some few monies perhaps. (one can hope eh)

I'm also thinking about putting other illustrations and content through the "patreon timegate" that many artists do -peeps who want to see content earlier/access some extra content can pay for it if they want. I don't think I could do enough content for a patreon to keep it interesting enough if I wasn't working on the comic. So that whole things is still a big question mark as well.

Many big think. Brain heavy.

#shut up yoi #comic rambles

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parchmentedpetrichor · 3 years

Text

➳the girl in the lilac dress ♠ ♡

in which y/n meets fred's ex-girlfriend, days after fred confessed his love for her. there's still some confusion on the status of their relationship. angst -> fluff. narrated by you, y/n l/n.

fred weasley x fem!reader

word count: ±5.4k

tw: angst (not too bad though), mean words, blood, mentions of auror missions, kidnapping, needles, st mungo's

drop a follow if you wanna see more of this content!!

my masterlist:D

ft. hermione, lee and alicia

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you

I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

the girl in the lilac dress

i was in a good mood. on the way to work to receive my mission, i was humming a song that had just come out. it was catchy and worth the wait.

out of the corner of my eye, a lilac colour appeared suddenly. strange, i thought. it approached me, in the form of a beautiful woman. she had the lightest grey eyes and the smoothest milky-white skin, and the shiniest locks of dark brown hair. she walked in a flowy lilac gown, her slim model-like body walking in a model-like fashion.

i was pretty sure she wasn't headed towards me, but when her luxurious voice said "good morning" in the calmest tone possible to me, i looked at her confusedly.

"hi!" i replied brightly, smiling.

she smiled sinisterly, "my name is pretoria aphrodite, i'm fred's ex-girlfriend."

he hadn't ever mentioned an ex, but i knew he had dated quite a few people. she made me seem like a glass of water next to a glass of red wine, naive and ugly. i was those two things anyway.

"oh! i'm y/n l/n! nice to meet you, you do seem like a daughter of aphrodite," i said politely.

"darling, all women are daughters of aphrodite. i understand fred's interested in you?"

she observed me and i laughed.

"i don't think that's quite the word. he's my best friend."

"friends with benefits?"

"oh gosh no! i don't really know where we stand, honestly."

"bitter about it?"

i thought for a second, "nah, i couldn't be. love's a hard thing."

"it is, indeed, and you work for the ministry?"

i nodded, "head of the auror office. what about you?"

"i model for witch weekly."

i gasped, "you're the p. aphrodite? i should've known!"

"big fan?" she looked amusedly at me.

"my friends are, so naturally i am."

"you don't seem the type fred usually goes for."

"i wouldn't say he's even going for me," i said cautiously.

"you are much too cutesie for his type."

i glanced up at her. she was smiling kindly.

"pfft, but better cutesie than nothing, amirite?" i asked friendlily, "well it's been nice to talk with you, but i gotta hurry!"

"no worries, i'll come with you, i have some business at the ministry too. have you seen his past exes?"

"uhh, not really?"

"well they're all models for one magazine or another."

"oh, okay. and that's important because...?" i asked her carefully.

"i just thought you should know."

i laughed, "i'm not model material, am i? i don't mind at all."

she looks taken aback. "i would say, with longer hair," she plucked a hair out of my poor mess of locks, "and a shorter upper body, with perhaps lip fillers, you'd look model-like."

her tone was analysing and not at all attacking.

"only three things??" i asked, shocked.

"you are rather... pretty already," she mused, "not model-like, but cute."

we had reached the ministry.

"thanks, see you later!" she waved and disappeared.

all that was left was a buzzing fly which soon flew away.

i immediately dialled in my auror code in the red telephone box and was sent into hermione granger's office.

"'mione! how good to see you!" i hugged her.

"hello y/n!"

in the ministry and the auror department, the head of the auror office was probably more important than the minister for magic. i didn't know why. she had brought me a cup of hot chocolate.

"thanks, 'mione, you didn't need to. what's the mission today?"

"two babies are being held hostage in a coded location by a person who calls themselves the light lord. dark lord, light lord, y'know?" she handed me a coded piece of parchment.

i thoughtfully pondered, "the light lord. who do you need?"

"i was hoping you go on this mission, then you could give me some news on this light lord person."

"that's doable. we'll need to bring in hepole and a ministry official to negotiate passports and such. and a strong auror team."

"right on it. i'll get wally becker and charlotte-ann becker. they're a force to be reckoned with on the borders."

"how much experience?"

"they're twins, been doing this for about fifty years now."

"perfect. and hepole?"

"on the way."

"thanks, minister," i winked at her, getting out my telephone and dialling the disguise unit.

"hello, poplinn speaking."

"pop, we need a few disguises. light lord."

"miss l/n! o-of course!"

"and pop?"

"y-yeah?"

"call me y/n."

i hung up, dialling harry's office.

"harry, call draco and be in my office in ten minutes. i don't care what business he's doing with scorpius, we've got babysitters here. light lord, perhaps a second of voldemort."

"of course."

i picked up the ringing phone that was in the corner of hermione's office.

"y/n, me and scorpy are having a zoo day, we're at the muggle zoo you suggested."

"sorry dray, but it's important."

"there's no one else?"

"there are others, but we need your expertise."

there was a pause, "i won't need to show my dark mark?"

"it's fading anyway. no."

"i'll be paid?"

"in hundreds."

"how old are the children?"

"2 and 4," hermione said.

the silence told me he was sold.

"i'll be there."

i picked up the big microphone and said, "auror unit 156 to the brief room. no need to bring anything. see you there!"

"good luck," hermione grimly said, "be safe, head."

"mhm and cup o' coffee tomorrow? if i survive, that is," i grinned.

"'course."

i smiled, "c'ya!"

she was shaking her head.

"oi, no disappointment, 'mione! i was the one who got the ministry out of paperwork!"

"burning paper doesn't count, y/n."

"it wasn't burning paper, hermione granger, it was arson."

"no, it was the saddest form of arson i've ever seen."

"hey! that's rude."

"just go on your mission already."

i laughed, "on it, minister. kalle?"

kalle looked at me, "yes?"

"tell miss minister to take a break and play a game or something, will you?"

she smiled, "okay."

"give my thanks to your mother too, loved the cookies!"

"alright, good luck, head!"

"thanks, bye!"

i apparated to the brief room, where everyone was strapped into special camouflage clothes.

i handed hepole the parchment and immediately began briefing the unit, harry and draco, on the mission.

"please be safe out there. if you're injured, apparate or travel back here, okay?"

i looked at hepole.

he cleared his throat, "they're in albania. the forest there."

"okay. harry and draco will provide attacking forces," the two nodded.

"i want lopex, quentin blake, quentin grill and hilly to break into any establishment," i say to the team, "and eron, hawks, melv, argonas to hold the offender hostage. johnathan, team healer as always. i'll take the children. hepole, you come and accompany us till the forest, then you have my permission to stay back, and beckers, stay invisible with the cloak, write a report for the minister when you come back, understand? have faith, team! i believe in you. we travel by apparition with the machine in three minutes. call your family, chat, have a snack, drink some water, and relax."

i picked up my telephone and dialled my parents.

"hi mum, dad, i'm going on a mission!"

"alright, be safe sweetie," my mum called.

"yeah, don't die kiddo," my dad added.

"right right, i love you, bye!"

the mission was successful. we rescued the children and sent the kidnapper to trial for azkaban. i escaped with a gash on my forearm, but quickly fixed it up with a spell. it ended late in the evening, so the team healer had gone home. the wound kept opening again, but i wasn't sure if it needed stitches.

putting everything away and making sure the aurors were okay, i headed back to the apartment i shared with fred.

i felt emotionally and physically drained, ready to enjoy a good shower and a good late dinner.

when i fiddled with the key to the door and opened it, my heart absolutely stopped.

pretoria aphrodite was kissing fred passionately. i felt my heart fall ten thousand flights of stairs in disappointment. of course. i was all a rebound who was pathetically in love with him.

when they stopped and saw me, pretoria smirked and fred stood up, astounded.

"uhh, continue? sorry," i apologised awkwardly.

"wait, y/n, it's not what it looks like-" he said.

"i don't mind, be safe," i smiled, too tired and too weak to do anything, closing the door and feeling tears well up in my eyes as i took my bag and myself somewhere. anywhere away from this all. my wound burned. i cursed under my breath as i made my way to st mungo's.

"y/n, you should have come here earlier!" yvonne, my friend, says, as she slowly injects a needle into me, "it's infected! and it needs stitches."

i laughed, "everything needs stitches. this is why i didn't become a healer, yvonne."

she shook her head in dismay.

"lol."

i watched the needle go in.

then she stitched the bloody mess of a wound up, cleaning it gently.

"now i can't stay, y/n," i pouted, "no, don't give me that face, i have other patients."

i nodded, "thanks yvonne."

"no problems. take care. you're too reckless."

"am not!"

she laughed. "that's funny."

after the trip to st mungo's which was pretty short, i wondered what to do. my mind kept floating to the scene i had just witnessed.

i was just the stupid, stupid, girl he used as a rebound. he didn't even use me as a real rebound, just someone who was simply infatuated with him to help him forget his unforgettable ex.

looking at a shop window, i caught a glimpse of myself. i hated being insecure but it happened.

i looked ugly. eyes too small, nose too big, lips not full enough. my thighs touched and i didn't have abs. i had a long gash running down my forearm, surrounded by other cuts. my hair was messy and disgusting. compared to the angel on earth pretoria was, i was nothing. small and plain was nothing when luxurious and beautiful was present.

and it hurt. my heart hurt. my head hurt.

i shook my head gently of my thoughts, chuckling bitterly.

fred weasley was completely and utterly out of my league.

whatevs, i thought. hurting was fine.

deciding to get over him once and for all, i bought some groceries and apparated to the doorstep of lee and alicia's glamorous cottage.

i knocked twice on the door. "hellooo!" i called out.

"baby, can you get that?" lee asked alicia.

alicia opened the door, smiling as she saw me.

"hey ali!"

"hi! come in!"

at first glance i could tell she knew something wrong.

"can i sleep here tonight? and take a shower? and eat some of your food please guys? and maybe steal a shirt i left here for safekeep? and maybe use your telephone? i'm really sorry for troubling you, so i got you guys snacks."

i was the second cousin by marriage of lee. it was good overall, but he was super naughty.

"snacks?"

"your favourites."

"then i guess you can," he said cheekily and i laughed.

"alicia, i don't know how or why you ended up with this child, but i'm glad you did," i told her and she laughed heartily.

"he's cute, isn't he?"

"no," i quickly stepped into the guest bedroom and took a long shower, letting a few tears slip but not enough so that it looked like it. i was subtle.

i bundled up in heavy clothing and wrapped my hair in a towel.

gingerly, i bandaged the wound.

by the snores in the other room, lee was asleep. i crept out quietly, going to cook something.

alicia was sitting down, with my favourite comfort meal prepared. i felt tears of appreciation well up in my eyes.

"thank you, ali, i love you."

"you damn well do."

we both giggled.

"what happened?" she asked me.

"nothing. i just wanted a change."

"from fred? liar. i'll ask again. what happened, y/n?"

"just a long mission, that's all."

"after long missions you usually watch movies with fred."

"couldn't i visit my best friend and my cuz?"

"you visit us on weekends. it's a friday."

"well i wanted to visit you!"

"bullshit."

"is it that hard to believe?"

"what the fuck did fred do to you?"

"nothin'?"

"c'mon y/n, you have to tell me. there's a reason why you didn't go to angie and george's tonight."

"i went here because they're super kissy. you guys have space and act normally. i appreciate that."

"you're awesome at lying."

"i'm not lying!"

"does this happen to involve pretoria aphrodite?"

i nodded, sighing, "she's so nice and pretty." i played with my food.

"i bumped into her. she's pretty, but not nice."

"oh?"

"she called me fiercely ugly. she forgot i model for witch weekly too."

"what did you say back?"

"i told her to fuck off."

i laughed, "she was very nice to me. but next time i see her imma kill her."

"of course she was nice to you, you're a lil angel! anyway, she's an animagus, didya know?"

"whoa how did you know?"

"caught her in a jar. she's a fly. who do you think told hermione to catch rita skeeter in the jar?"

i laughed, "rita skeeter is a beetle! gosh, she's annoying."

"what did fred and pretoria do?"

"nothing."

"please tell me?"

"they-" i swallowed, "they were kissing, and so i came here because i didn't wanna watch anymore."

"hang on, he told you he loved you a few days ago?"

i nodded.

"that doesn't seem right."

i shrugged, "pretoria's better than me. i don't blame him."

"his mother would kill him!"

i shrugged again, "i don't think he was legit when he said that."

"molly weasley, y/n!"

"look, he can explain it to you, i don't even wanna hear it. the first stage of mourning is denial, they say."

"doesn't mean it's good."

"denial is awesome. it's ignorance, but you choose to be stupid. i'm already so stupid!" i groaned, covering my face with my hands, "so so so so so so so stupid, foolish, dumb, and i don't want you to tell me i'm not because i know i am. pathetic."

i gobbled down the rest of the meal, "ths 's delicous," i said, swallowing, "g'night!"

"don't be afraid to let it all out."

"yeah."

i shut the door softly, before brushing my teeth and collapsing exhaustedly on the bed, nodding off quickly.

the next day, i woke at 4am, and put on new clothes, apparating to the phone box and filling out paperwork for the missions yesterday.

i joined hermione quickly, handing her a cappucino and sipping my mocha.

"court sitting this early?" she asked me.

i nodded, "mistake of sirius black, now they do all court sittings within 24 hours of arrest."

"that's smart."

"yeah. it's good. he's obviously guilty right? just a dust of veritaserum to bring it all out?"

"i reckon he'll just confess."

"criminals don't go down easily."

"you guys did a spotting job. the children were unharmed."

"are they here today?"

"they're in st mungo's. being monitored."

"parents?"

"dead."

"oh gosh, those poor children. what's going to happen to them?"

"someone's adopting them, wally becker and his wife."

"that's awesome."

the court hushed as we entered the room. hermione and i shared amused glances and began the sitting.

he was found to be guilty and was chucked in azkaban.

"what an idiot, sending a message like that."

"yup," i chuckled, "what with hepole in our ministry, they never escape."

we laughed.

"how's everything with ron?" i asked her.

"i don't know if he's still into me?"

i almost laugh at her statement, "bro. of course he is."

"i never see him."

"then see him more!"

"how? i'm so busy!"

"busy enough for ron?" we both took sandwiches from the canteen lady with courteous smiles and words.

we sat down at the cafeteria.

"i guess not, but he's busy!"

"busy enough for you?"

"i guess not."

"'xactly."

"but he might not wanna go on a date."

"why? the boy's obsessed with you, 'mione!"

the aurors and ministry workers looked at us in fear as i rose up. i chuckled.

i immediately skipped over to the telephone, putting in the WWW's number.

"y/n! what on earth are you doing?" hermione said in a panicked tone.

"nothing to be worried 'bout."

"hello?" it was george. i thanked the heavens for that.

"yolo george, give the phone to your lil bro please."

"'kay."

hermione was gaping at me. i smirked at her.

"y/n?"

"hey ron, i want you to meet me in rosemary park at 5pm today."

"o-okay."

"could you also bring hermione's favourite snacks and wear an extra jumper?"

"what? why?"

"i'm curious, that's all," i said, "see you there!"

"is that y/n?" i heard fred's voice.

"nup, it isn't," i replied.

and with that, i hung up.

"hey 'mione?"

she was glaring at me, "what."

"meet me at rosemary park at 5pm?" i batted my eyelashes at her, before bursting out in laughter.

she laughed, "i love you."

"pfft, love ya too. you really are too careful. like he would reject you."

"what do you think i should wear?"

"let's go off work early today, at 3," i suggested, "we're both on top of our work anyway."

"okay! you wanna go now?"

"it's 11?"

"yeah!"

"alrighty! kalle!"

kalle turned to us, "yes?"

"hi! me and minister are going out to talk about the mission."

"alright, bye."

we apparate to hogsmeade.

"what theme do you wanna go for?"

"hmm," she thought for a second, "floral!"

"alrighty!" i fumbled for my cell phone and dialled the WWW's again.

"hello?" it was fred this time.

"heyo freddie," i said to him like nothing had ever happened, "tell ron to dress up at 5 pm in something cute but not too out there, preferably in florals or somethin', and he better bring me hermione's favourite flowers."

"wha? if he's going with you then- ohhhh."

"thanks, bye."

"wait!"

"mhm?"

"can we talk?"

"erm- about what exactly?"

"everything."

i sighed, "later, okay? i'm out with hermione and you've got work."

"okay. have a good time, lovely."

"you too."

i was utterly confused. here he was one day kissing pretoria, and now he was calling me lovely?

what the hell was going on?

"let's go, mione!"

we went and bought her a pretty pink dress with white lilies adorning it. it was cute and definitely casual, sort of like a sundress.

"what if he doesn't come?" hermione chewed on her lip.

"hermione jean granger, we both know that ron is absolutely definitely a thousand times head over heels in love with you. he wouldn't ditch you for the world! and look at you! anyone can see he's lucky to have you! you both are star-crossed. when has he ever ever ditched you?"

"with lav brown."

"lavender, she's, she's dead, hermione," i said carefully, "fenrir greyback bit her to death. it was a tragic, heroic, death. she was listed in the extended casualties sent to my office a few months after the battle. i think she's watching down on us from wherever she is up there."

"she's dead?"

"yeah," i replied sadly, "life is so short."

"yeah."

"what i'm tryna say, is that that might've happened, but it won't happen again now that he knows you love him and he loves you. understand?"

"yeah."

"and love him well, for the sake of lavender brown."

"for the sake of lavender brown," she said, smiling.

"yup, now, light lord. his name is actually pont knight."

"pont knight?"

"former assistant of me."

"pont knight?"

"yeah, i know right."

"how did he go again?"

"oh, i fired him," i laughed.

"why?"

"smart guy but terribly lazy and he kept asking for promotions! like please do something if you want money."

"interesting."

"he moved to eastern europe to chase after the trendiness of the islands. i think it was just an excuse. he's changed. he used to be clean-shaven and have the blondest hair."

"do you think he did anything else?"

"we did put him on veritaserum, right?"

"yeah, but it's illegal to put someone on it for more than 10 minutes now in court sittings."

"we could go visit him in azkaban later? i'll take gregir."

"yeah, maybe tomorrow or the day after?"

i nodded, "'course. today is a rest day for the aurors right?"

she nodded, "yeah, half of the agency is at home or working out in the gym."

"good. sometimes this work is so tolling, 'mione."

"yeah, i heard from st mungo's you got hurt?" her eyes were concerned.

i rolled up my sleeve, "that's it."

"that's it? what do you mean, that's terrible! you need to take better care of yourself."

"well sometimes it's hard to. it was worth it."

we continued chatting until it was 4:30.

"oop!" she checked her watch, "i have to go!"

"good luck! tell me how it goes, minister! i'll head back to check if anyone's called for you or me and dust it all up."

"thanks. i owe you."

"nah. i owe my job to you. if minister for magic didn't exist, i wouldn't either. i love you 'mione, be safe!"

"love you too!"

i apparated to the phone box and typed my letters in.

with a whoosh, i immediately spotted two letters and a beeping phone. i answered the phone, solving the problem of the woman on the other end of the line and scribbled a reply to both of the letters.

i finished the paperwork and sent it off, then visited my office. it was piling with letters. i answered all of them, redirecting some of them to different departments, before calling everyone back.

i spotted some of the aurors from yesterday's mission sitting in the cafeteria and talking.

i sat down next to them, "how are you guys doing? any injuries?"

they shook their heads, "we've been spending time in the healer's office and just exercising lightly by the orders of johnny," argonas explained and i nodded.

"take it lightly, and go home if you want to. seeing family always helps the process, hopefully not too many nightmares?"

they laughed, "nightmares all the time, miss," hawk said lightly, "get used to it in this job."

i frowned, "have you tried speaking to doctor yvonne? she might have ways to solve nightmares."

"ahh, miss, sleeping draughts can only do so much," hawk replied cordially.

i laughed, "alright, hawkeye, but just make sure you're not getting traumatised okay? what about you, lopex, quentins?"

they shrugged.

"it's okay? the door was very hard to bust into," lopex said quietly, "we had to try several bombarding charms."

"now, lop, it was easy work!" draco said, sitting down, "hello, head auror, hello unit."

it brought on a cacophony of greetings.

"how are you doing, dray?" harry sat down next to him, "hi everyone!"

we all replied with more greetings and a steady conversation started and flowed for a couple of hours.

i felt my cell phone go off and i excused myself, noting it was 9pm already.

i apparated to the apartment doorstep, knocking on the door just in case anything was happening. i checked the caller id, it was hermione.

fred opened the door, hair messy, still good looking. i smiled at him, patting his shoulder as i ran to the ringing telephone and picked it up.

"y/n!" i could just hear the beam in hermione's voice.

"'mione! how did it go?"

"absolutely wonderful, head auror, ahhh, he's so cute!"

"what happened?" i asked, smiling already.

"well it was really cold when i saw the picnic blanket, which was matching my dress for some weird reason, and ron was there in the cutest button up and he looked so handsoME and he gave me a flower, he's always handsome but i just can't! ahhhh!" she squealed and i clapped my hands in excitement.

"and then i was shivering and he gave me hiS JUMPER and it smelled like him and oh my gosh i think i might just be in love, y/n!"

i giggled, "my cooling charm did work!"

"whaT y/n????"

cackling, i said, "continue, i wanna hear more this is so adorable!!!"

i ignored the dirty glance fred gave me, quietening my voice.

"and then we had food and he said he had cooked it himself and was being such a dear and i told him that i loved him over and over again!!!"

i squealed silently again.

"and, and, gosh my english has gone out of the window!"

"english is nothing compared to the language of love!!" i giggled.

"we watched the sunset whilst cuddling, and i fell asleep and then when i woke up i was in his bed and he was looking at me intently and i just, i'm the luckiest girl alive!"

"you are but you deserve it! that's so sweet! i'm happy for you goshhh, you are the cutest couple. you're both such darlings!"

"and then we watched a muggle movie and he got scared of the spiders and it was so adorable ahhhhHHHH!!!"

"that's the cutesttttt," i gushed.

another dirty look from fred. i gave him a frown back.

"and then he walked me home and it started raining and we kissed in the rain and another check off of my bucketlist and oh my gosh he's so perfect."

"oh gosh that's beautiful," i was smiling uncontrollably.

"anyway," her tone changed into one of mischief, "wanna meet up tomorrow to talk about it?"

"sure thing! when and where? i'll be there!"

"erm, lemme chec- think," i heard the suspicious rustling of papers.

"you're sus. let's just talk about it over the phone. i don't want anything weird."

"how about 10 am in the morning at the field of fireflies?"

"that's a highly romantic place, miss minister. isn't it for couples or something?"

"no? you must be talking about fiona farm."

oh. "yeah, probs, well okay, it better have good coffee. i'm dying of boredom too, does it have a playground??" i asked, hopefully crossing my fingers.

"nope."

"awww, shucks, i don't think i'll go then. you wanna come over though?"

"no please come! there's a surprise!"

i was sold, "lovely. i'll be there at 9:30!"

"no, no, don't do that."

"what the hell, hermione, you're being so suspicious!"

"i'm not, okay? just come on time, you won't regret it."

"if there's any funny business i'm not committing arson ever again."

"oh crap."

i sighed.

"just come anyway!!! good night cheerio!!!"

"what the-"

the line ended.

i frowned, noticing the glare fred gave me yet again.

"is everything okay??" i asked him.

"no," he said rudely.

"well, do you need any help?"

"no."

"how was your day?"

"fine."

i sighed, "okay."

"you called ron cute."

i laughed lightly, "that's it?? and so what's kissing a girl huh, nothing? i called him cute because he treats 'mione like a goddess, because she is a goddess, for goodness sake. and he is cute, in a completely objective way," i added absentmindedly, "all you weasleys are."

he frowned.

"she kissed me!"

"oh i don't mind, i couldn't. my two braincells can't handle it. you kiss whoever you wanna, okay? live, laugh, love, and all that." i smiled.

he was silent.

"and we can talk after i meet up with hermione, okay?"

"okay."

"we don't needa if you don't wanna, of course. g'night."

"have a nice sleep."

the next morning, i got up and went to the field of fireflies or whatever.

it was a beautiful place. it was a full on field. meadows stretched across the near english countryside. the sky was clear and light, and the world around me was stunning.

winds blew from all directions, and i soon found myself accio!ing a jumper.

"hermioneeee???" i called, "you're leaving me hanging."

had hermione stood me up? i chuckled at the very thought, soon rolling in the field of flowers as i laughed.

"hermione you devil you stood me up! you left your poor little work wife hanging!" i shouted dramatically.

i suddenly spotted a little house? by the side of the meadow.

i ran towards it.

"whoa."

it was absolutely magnificent. beige little bricks were stacked on top of each other, grey bricks dotted in. the shillings were dark green, and plants hung out everywhere in the cracks of the house.

large windows which reflected the blue light in the sky spanned across the whole house, and a single wooden door stood ajar.

i just wish i had brought a camera. i sat on the grass, playing with the hem of my jumper sadly. even hermione didn't have time for me. i wondered what a sad person i must seem like.

"contemplating life there?" i heard a far off voice. i swung my head around, seeing fred standing and grinning.

yeah well duh i was, no thanks to you, i thought.

i immediately got up.

"we can talk here, right?" fred asked, as he brought me into the house.

"wow," inside, it was cluttered and messy, with plants sprouting everywhere and bookcases and things everywhere. i loved it.

"you like it?" he asked.

"love it."

"good, because i bought it," he laughed at my flabbergasted expression, "i'm rich, darlin'. let's sit, i cooked lunch."

"was this your plan? to have hermione stand me up?" i asked.

"love, i wouldn't call this a plan. simply just a boy trying to explain himself."

"look i don't need an explanation. i told you, you can love whoever you wanna, i don't mind, i don't care, i support."

"but i'm gonna have to explain because i wanna kiss you."

"then go ahead," i sighed, "if you're lying i will stab you."

"jeesh okay."

i looked at him.

"oh yeah, i forgot the food, here," he said casually, handing me a plate filled with yummy looking delicacies. i was willing to put up with his rubbish story telling for the food, i guess.

"alright, i'm all ears."

"okay. so she talked with you right?"

i nodded.

"did she take a piece of hair from you?”

i nodded again.

"so you came home just right about when the night lights flicker on in london. or so i thought it was you. it was actually, aphrodite, yeah? in polyjuice potion. and she knocked on the door, which i thought was strange. i opened it and she immediately kissed me, as you. and it was weird but it was you and i would give the world to kiss you like that," he said bluntly and i could feel my face heating up, "and then it went like that for a few seconds and she turned into pretoria, and by then the woman had her claws on me. then the door opened and i knew i had made a mistake and then you left and apologised so sweetly. i'm so so sorry, my love, please, i never meant to hurt you, i never meant to do anything. i broke up with her last year. i haven't wanted to be with her since. i want to be with you."

i looked at him. i knew he was genuine.

"okay. i'm sorry too, for not trusting you. i guess i was just really unsure of our relationship. it's still kinda blurry."

"what do you wanna be?"

"could we be official, please?"

he grinned, "of course."

then smiling sheepishly, he added, "can i kiss you now?"

"only if i'm the only girl you kiss from now on," i teased, smiling.

he blushed, placing my hands over his heart. it was beating very very fast.

"feel that, beautiful?"

i nodded.

"only you."

he gave me a cheesy grin and laughed at my blushing face, before tilting my head upwards and going in for a kiss but kissing my cheek.

"that's not fair!"

and that's how his head ended up falling into my lap, as i ran my fingers through his ginger strands.

he had fallen asleep just as the sunset began.

it was breathtaking. hues of orange and red danced across the sky.

"i can think of something a lot more beautiful than that," fred said, smiling.

"oh?"

"yeah. yeah."

"i don't believe you."

"that's because you can't see yourself right now."

146 notes · View notes

mrskodzuken · 3 years

Text

pairing: Kozume Kenma x f!reader

genre: SOFT. AND. PURE. FLUFF.

wc: 975

warnings: alcohol, some product placement ads (lol; not sponsored by Tanduay and Sprite), slightly suggestive cheverlu (c/o the English translation to APO Hiking Society's "Yakap sa Dilim"), Kenma being so sweet to his s/o, a bit ooc-ish?

note: this fic was inspired by my last week's *coughs* spicy *coughs* interaction with my second visiting (fifth overall smh) Kenma anon here on my blog. Then the song "Yakap sa Dilim", originally sung by APO Hiking Society, came into my mind because it's so damn seggsy tbh *fidget fidget* At first, I thought of doing a bit smutty fic to complement the song but... siiigh, I'm still nowhere as good as by the likes of my other moots who write smut almost on a daily, weekly basis. Plus I have a good, if not great, imagination when it comes to writing fluff, so... ^^;;

another note: that part about Y/N mixing her alcoholic drink with clear soda and experiencing full-blown redness and itchiness from head to toe while drinking was based on my experience drinking alcohol straight away. And no, I'm not always drinking on a regular basis, just whenever there are family get-togethers and like New Year's Eve parties.

another ANOTHER note: this is my first entry for @lumpiang-toge 's Piliin Mo Ang Pilipinas server collab event. Huuuuuuge thank you for beta-ing this @/lumpiang-toge @love-amihan @imo-chan-imagines @kousukii @manjirosday @abuliawrites I LOVE YOU ALL MWAH <3 *headpats*

see also: listen to the original version of "Yakap sa Dilim" by APO Hiking Society here-

[00:45 am]

——— 💙💖

"...and that's all for tonight's streaming! Make sure to follow me on all my social networking sites, they're on the description below! Well then, this has been your favorite gamer cat boy Kodzuken, logging out!"

Kenma then removes his headset and closes his stream, stretching and yawning a bit in his gaming chair, before standing up and heading towards his and your shared (bed)room.

"Y/N~ Y/N, are you still awake? Y/N-" he opens the door to your room, only to find it silently empty.

Hmm... where did she go? Kenma then searches the kitchen. "Y/N?" And the bathroom. "Where are you?"

He taps on his phone and checks his contact list for a possibility of you being online at the moment. And sighs. Nothing.

"Y/N! Y/N-chan, where are you?"

"Kitten, I'm on the back porch!"

Kenma finds you sitting on the porch, chin up, your eyes watching the numerous stars twinkling, shining, across the wide clear night sky, and smiling.

"I just finished my stream earlier and was checking up if you're awake or not but-" He sits in beside you and snuggles a bit but then notices a slight flush in your cheeks, and spies your hands cradling a glass of familiar reddish liquid. Beside you stands a half-empty bottle of Tanduay Ice, its opened bottle cap sitting askew on the lips.

"How long have you been drinking, Y/N? And straight-up drinking a bottle of Tanduay Ice Red Mirage?"

You turn your slightly flushed face at Kenma, a goofy smile escaping your lips, and raise your glass. "Not about half an hour ago, and don't worry about me getting all red and itchy all over my body from too much drinking! I mix it up with some Sprite to lessen the alcohol intake!" You fish out a 2L bottle of Sprite, also half-empty, on the ground, to prove your point.

Kenma sighs exasperatedly and smiles back at you. Lovely and stubborn you, who isn't the type to back down from an argument and stuff.

Shit.

You gently place your drink on the wooden floor and suddenly stand up and walk. "Ah, you want something to drink? I can get you some can of beer if you-!"

You feel the grip on your wrist as he grab your hand before you go inside, and look at him.

"Kenma-"

"Please stay."

Kenma then brings your hand near his face and tenderly kisses your palm, looking you in the eye, the action making you more flushed but not because of alcohol. He smiles at you again.

"I love you, Y/N."

Steam runs off your ears, your face a full-blown tomato face. "I-I-I love you, too, Kenma!"

The former Nekoma high school volleyball setter and now-YouTuber can't help but softly chuckle. Kenma can't really resist teasing and making you blush.

Because he finds it very cute. And endearing.

He hangs his head down a bit. "Sorry... I forgot about our date earlier.”

"Eh? W-why are you saying sorry...? I should have known you'd have a busy day yesterday! Two 4-hour streams, company Zoom meetings, a date with Kuroo-san in the office-"

"-it's a meeting with the Japan Volleyball Association for an upcoming proposal, stop calling it a 'date'!"

Your boyfriend then pulls you closer and wraps his arms around your waist, his head being buried on your chest. You could hear his muffled sigh and voice from within while he speaks.

"I'm such a terrible boyfriend to you, kitten. How can I make it up to you?" While looking at you, pout on his lips, his golden cat orbs a puppy-like glance at your face.

A look that sends your heart aching with cuteness.

"Hmm..." You pull away from Kenma's embrace and grab your phone to scroll and tap on something. A smile creeps across your face as you place your phone back from where you got it earlier.

The first few notes of your favorite song start to play in the background. You offer your hand at a slightly confused Kenma.

"Would the great Kodzuken care to dance with me?"

Hoping that you lay your head on the pillow

Your body, I'll cover like a blanket.

Problems you will forget

As long as we embrace in the dark

He accepts it, grinning, and finds himself swaying his body alongside you, your hands around his neck, his hands perching on your waist.

Don't stop if you feel like you have to cry unexpectedly

Hoping what you feel is relaxation

If you want, we can take a cigarette first

Before we embrace in the dark

"I'm so lucky I have met you, Y/N. I really am~" He places a kiss on your forehead before nuzzling your cheek, his nose wrinkling a bit. "You still smell of Tanduay Ice, kitten. Hope you won't experience an incoming hangover later."

"Kenma!!! I won't, silly! And I'm also lucky that I'm here, cuddling with you, dancing... it makes me happy!" You kiss his cheek and hug him closer.

This is something that we have been waiting for

We're right at this moment embracing in the dark

Oh, the satisfaction from the quick, stolen moments

While we embrace in the dark

"I love you, Y/N..."

"I love you more, Kenma..."

Come on and lie down by me in bed

Let's savor the good times together

To our love that we hope for

While we embrace in the dark

As the song ends, you find yourself yawning, sleepy. He notices this.

Kenma kisses your forehead again, snuggling you at his side. He yawns also. "Maybe we should go to bed now, kitten. It's getting late."

"And we can cuddle while we sleep?"

"Mhmm~ yes, we can! C'mon... but first, let's brush your teeth and get rid of that alcohol smell..."

"Kenma!!!!"

DO NOT REPOST/EDIT WITHOUT PERMISSION. PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME, KIDS. LIKES ESPECIALLY REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED. ALL WORKS © angrymongol01/kirakirasaku - 2021.

My Masterlist

#🇵🇭 — piliin mo ako #tw alcohol #kozume kenma #kenma #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu filo #haikyuu filipino #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x f!reader #kozume kenma x reader #kenma x reader #kenma fluff #kenma drabble #kenma imagine #🐱saku.fic

139 notes · View notes

alottanothing · 3 years

Text

Kismet

Summary: Evie prepares a meal for the stranger who helped her and finds herself more than a little smitten.

Previous Part: Hope

Word Count: 5707

Warnings: Language

Tag List: @ramilicious, @txmel, @edteche2, @gloriousdarkangelsworld, @diasimar, @xmxisxforxmaybe (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

A/N: Okay, I almost didn't get this up today because I was up most of the night sewing kilts for Highland Weekend at the Ohio Renfiare. BUT I stayed awake and did my final read-through, so this should be mostly okay. I skipped a couple steps in my editing to get this up on time but I think, for the most part, it's okay. If you see a grammatical booboo, just ignore it, I'll get in here sometime this week with my other two editing steps and find it, then repost this. Capisce? Okay, cool...now. I hope you enjoy it, I also hope my trying to phonetically write Mer's accent doesn't get too annoying. I know you really shouldn't write accents, but I think it helps add to the characters. And I do try to keep it to a minimum so it doesn't get annoying. Thanks for the love the first part received last month! I know waiting so long between updates is a bit sad after weekly updates with LtR. But life is busy right now and once a month is all can guarantee.

Jonny did not know how to keep a house.

In fact, Jonny did not know how to do much more than drink, argue, and get into fights. He was nothing but a thorn in Evie's side—never mind how much she needed him for a place to lay her head. A necessary thorn was still a thorn. Given the opportunity, she would rip it out as soon as she could and dress the wound promptly so she was finally able to heal better. She stayed only because she had no other choice. And every time Jonny raised his voice or stumbled in reeking of alcohol and red-faced, Evie could hear her best friend's warning in her head. Cynthia had begged her not to go with him, but she hadn't listened.

Oh, how she wished she had.

Luckily, Jonny wasn't the kind of man who liked to stay home which eased the ache of the ever-present thorn in her side. Whatever money he did have, he spent out on the town—the town being New Orleans. Like Evie, Jonny had been born and raised in the Big Apple, the noise and the chaos was part of him. As such, he hadn't taken to the quiet suburban life Bridge City offered as well as Evie. She liked the quiet, easy flow of the sleepy town. Her housemate loathed his new home. He thrived in disarray, thus, he found a group of like-minded young men to run amok with in the neighboring metropolis every chance he got.

If Jonny had been any sort of amicable company, the notion of him leaving most every night to wreak havoc several miles away would have been upsetting. Thankfully, his penchant for city life meant a good portion of Evie's days were spent out from under Jonny's tyranny. The hours he was gone were blissful and calm, and she relished in them. Whether she was creating art or tending to chores around the old house, Evie didn't care as long as Jonny wasn't there—never mind how lonely the routine often was.

Evie had never gotten the chance to meet Jonny's maternal grandmother, though she suspected she would have liked to. Unlike her grandson, she seemed like any other sweet elderly woman judging by the furnishings she'd left behind. There were dozens of lace doilies, and table cloths with soft patterns, decretive china even, but it was the plethora of photos the old woman kept that told Evie she'd carried a kindly heart. All of them were kept in pristine albums or intricate frames; they were the only barbles that seemed to have been cleaned or dusted with any regularity which spoke of how much she must have treasured them. Evie loved those tiny trinkets and black and white memories. It didn't matter that they were not her legacy of family heirlooms to keep, she adored them anyway.

She couldn't count the number of times she'd replaced a broken frame that had fallen victim to Jonny's drunken belligerence or scrubbed tirelessly at a stain he'd left on the patterned tablecloths. It proved to be a hefty undertaking, but dwelling in the fantasies of someone else's history let her forget the grief of her own. She was willing to sacrifice a little elbow grease if it allowed her mind to roam away from the shadow that never really seemed to vanish.

For all the effort Evie put in on the interior, the cottage held little in the way of curb appeal. The porch was sunken in the middle, the paint was peeling off in chunks, and the yard was mostly weeds. Worst, however, was the screen door which squeaked so loudly, every dog in the neighborhood howled in protest every time someone crossed the threshold. The outside needed love that Evie simply didn't have the energy to lend. Despite the grit, however, the foundations were sturdy enough that she didn't worry. The cottage proved to be stronger than she looked—a feat Evie felt she had in common with the old house. And while it was a swell enough place to rest her head, it never truly felt like home. Home was somewhere safe, and as long as Jonny lived under that roof she wasn't safe. Not really.

Fortunately, Jonny wasn't home when Evie returned after her run-in with Mr. Shelton—Mer, she corrected herself with a hint of a giddy smile. Without her housemate there, her evening promised to be hopeful instead of lonely, and she wasted no time in figuring out what to make for dinner.

With her red pumps replaced by her worn-in slippers and her blue checkered apron secured around her waist, she set a pot of water to boil and dialed the phone conveniently located in the kitchen. Every evening she called her sister-in-law to pass the time and keep up on unimportant gossip back home; this time, however, Evie was excited to finally have some good news to share.

"You got the job, didn't you?" Cynthia Clarke asked on the other end, sounding hopeful. "I knew you would."

Evie grinned, still amazed how the sound of Cyn's voice always seemed to settle some of the ever-present anxieties buzzing in her head. She missed her friend so much.

"I didn't even say yes."

"Did you or did you not get the job?" Cynthia pressed.

"I did," Evie confirmed and her smile grew hearing her friend cheer on the other end of the phone.

"See! I knew it." Cynthia said. "My gut feeling is always right."

Evie rolled her eyes and shook her head fondly.

"I think I'm gonna like working there too, so that's good." she mused as she stood at the stove, eyeing the pot of water she’d set to boil.

"That's so great, Ev. I'm so proud of you." Cynthia paused before continuing. "So, what are you up to tonight? Avoiding Jonny?"

"Sorta," Evie nodded even though she knew her friend wouldn't see.

As she continued to watch her cooking pot of water she told Cynthia all about her trouble with Jonny's car and the man who'd been so kind to help her.

"Wait. You invited the stranger over who fixed the car?" Concern was heavy in Cyn's voice, and Evie half expected a lecture to follow.

Despite knowing each other since childhood, Cynthia had taken on the role of her protector since Evie's family was no longer in the picture. The war had claimed Evie's father, and brother—although they'd never found her brother, Jimmy after he disappeared behind enemy lines. Evie never lost hope that Jimmy would one day be found, Cynthia though, was certain her husband was never coming home. After Cyn’s brother, Charlie, died at Normandy Cynthia had difficulty believing anyone was going to make it home. As for Evie's mother, losing a child and her husband to the war was too much for her tender heart and she passed not long after. Ever since, Cynthia was overcome with the need to act as Evie's guardian.

"He wouldn't let me pay him," Evie explained. "So I'm making him dinner—it seemed like the least I could do."

"I suppose…." Cynthia didn't sound convinced, if anything she sounded slightly irritated there was no quick way for her to argue the logic. "Just be careful, Evie. You don't know this guy—he could be another Jonny Doyle. Or worse."

"He's not," Evie said quickly. She wanted nothing more than to tell her friend all about how benevolent Mer was, but she decided against it. Cynthia would only argue that point somehow.

A long pause followed, and Evie wedged the receiver between her ear and shoulder so her hands were free to work on the meal.

"So, what are you cooking?" This time, there was a hint of jest in her friend's tone when she spoke.

The art of cooking was one creative outlet that Evie struggled with, second only to music. In her youth, her mother did all the cooking—it was a passion of her mother's—thus Evie had done little more than watch in wonder as her mother whipped up meal after meal effortlessly. Breakfast she the meal she was probably best at, apple pies too, but anything beyond that Evie required a step by step guide to prepare. And even then she lacked confidence. Thankfully, when she'd fled south, she remembered to grab her mother's cookbook. It was a cumbersome tome with yellowed pages and notes scribbled into the margins: a piece of art itself cultivated over years of collecting recipe after recipe starting the moment her mother stepped off the boat that brought her from Ireland. And like a witch and her spellbook, Evie depended on it.

"Spaghetti with garlic bread," Evie admitted feeling as though the meal lacked a certain something.

Pasta was something she knew held a low degree of difficulty when it came to preparing. Surely she couldn't mess up pasta.

“Mmm, I can almost smell it,” Cynthia said.

“Shut up.”

“No, seriously,” Cyn replied. “You’re mom’s spaghetti recipe was always my favorite.”

A doleful smile pulled at the corners of her lips, thinking back to her mother happily cooking in the kitchen as she sang a Celtic tune. It seemed strange that those moments would never again play out, instead they’d become bittersweet memories Evie could only relive in her mind.

“Mine too,” she murmured, suddenly missing her family.

Neither of them said anything for a moment, and Evie’s mind roamed the dregs of her grief before blinking back into reality and the hope of something happy to come.

“I need to go, Cyn,” Evie told her friend with a sigh. “I don’t want to burn the garlic bread.”

Cynthia chuckled and said her goodbye, only after making Evie promise to call her in the morning to let her know how everything went.

With her second hand restored after hanging up, Evelyn reached for her mother’s cookbook to give the steps another look over to ensure she had done everything and added every herb and ingredient she was supposed to. She’d followed everything perfectly, even factoring in the little notes scribbled into the margins left there by her mother—those she smiled at fondly and traced the fading ink with her fingers. Everything was as it should be. Even so, without a taste, Evie knew the sauce she had prepared would never be as savory as what her mother made so effortlessly.

“You were the artist in the kitchen, Ma,” she said with a shrug. “I’ll stick to paper and canvas.”

For the smallest of a moment Evie thought she would hear the warmth of her mother’s laugh, and when it never came she sighed again, trying not to dwell on the shadows behind her. What mattered was the light ahead.

Despite her lack of confidence, the meal came together without any severe hiccups. The noodles were not overcooked, the sauce was a complementing mix of savory and sweet (though, as she had guessed after a tiny taste, was not nearly as good as her mother's) and the garlic bread was nicely golden. A small tingle of pride manifested in the form of a surprised, but satisfied, smile as she surveyed the dinner before her.

“Not bad, Ev,” she told herself, knowing her mother would have been delighted.

With the cooking done, Evie threw a glance over her shoulder to the clock mounted on the wall, triggering a surge of anxiety to bubble in her gut. Stranger, perhaps, was the amount of excitement coursing through her veins. It was as though all of her happiness was riding on whether or not she would see Merriell again. None of it made sense; the man was little more than a stranger. The coupling of nerves and delight was not a feeling that put her ill at ease, however. She trusted it. And it was that peculiar sensation that seemed to fuel her movements.

With a few minutes to spare, Evie wandered into the small bathroom to freshen up. She made sure her hair was still pinned the way she liked—up and pretty. Her make-up was holding up nicely despite the heat; all she needed was a fresh layer of lipstick to complete the illusion of a put-together young lady. It wasn't often she wore a dress with heels and a face of cosmetics—she liked to when the opportunity arose, but she was just as comfortable in a pair of old overalls and smudges of charcoal on her face.

Just as she wiggled back into her red pumps—discarding her worn-in house slippers with a couple of calculated kicks—a knock on the door signaled Merriells arrival. Immediately a grin curled onto Evie's lips and her heart began to pound an anxious-excited rhythm. A blush threatened to color her cheeks to give away the torrid muscle beating in her chest—her ever yearning heart already making leaps and bounds for a man she had known for mere hours.

Don't be ridiculous—she warned herself taking in a deep breath to curb the eagerness coursing in her veins. Untying her apron, she tossed it along with her discarded slippers and went to answer the door, taking one last deep breath to steady the fervor in her heart.

Merriell had changed and showered. The sweet bouquet of his shampoo coupled invitingly with the musk of the aftershave he'd chosen, making it difficult for Evie to keep from soaking in the scent he carried. His curls were still somewhat damp—too much moisture in the air to keep the heat from drying them on his way over—though they fought to spring back into their previous fluff. The grease-covered, jeans he'd been wearing had been replaced by a nice pair of tan slacks, and the buttoned shirt he wore was a soft shade of green that made his eyes glitter a deeper emerald as he stood under the glow of the porch light. All Evie could do was stare—utterly beguiled—every rational thought in her head lost to her.

Mer smirked, amused by her ogling. "Hiya."

Evie blinked, coming back to reality, suddenly feeling foolish, and uttered a nervous "hi" before swinging her arm to invite him inside.

"Come in."

Merriell's smile grew as he crossed the threshold, inhaling deeply. "Mm, smells tasty in here."

He gently forced a bottle into her hands as he passed on his way to investigate the savory smells in the kitchen.

"I wasn' sho what ya was makin', but I figured wine usually goes with anythin'."

"Oh, thank you." Evie glanced at the label, unable to read the French words printed there. "You didn't have to bring anything."

"I know," Mer shrugged, placing his hands in his pockets. "I just wanted to make a good impression."

There was something almost boyish when he smiled then—cheeks coloring pink ever-so-slightly—that made him even more of a mystery. One Evie was eager to solve.

"Well," she said placing the bottle on the kitchen table. "It should go perfectly with dinner."

His expression lost a hint of its boyish charm as it grew into a look of delight.

"Make yourself at home," Evie gestured vaguely between the table and the sofa in the living room as she ventured to the cabinet where the stemware was kept.

She placed two crystal glasses on the table along with the wine and retraced her steps to fetch some of the nicer china Jonny's grandmother had kept. Mer watched her, his gaze, gentle and attentive, and a little bit yearning as she methodically sat the table.

"Need help with anythin'?" he asked finally.

"Nope," She replied with a smile. "Everything is almost ready."

The hearty red sauce on the stove was beginning to boil again which told her it was hot enough to serve, and Evie eyed the pot with scrutiny, praying silently her attempt at cooking would go over well.

"I'll pour us a glass then," Mer announced.

"Great, lemme…" Evie spun to fish for the corkscrew in the drawer of misfit utensils, finding it, only to turn to see Merriell holding his lighter against the neck of the dark bottle just below the cork.

Before she could ask, a loud pop sounded, causing her to jump as the cork went flying.

"Oh my goodness!" she laughed, a little surprised, a little impressed. "Where did you learn to do that?"

Mer shrugged, a sly expression on his features, and left her question unanswered.

"How much ya want?" He held the open bottle over the top of her glass, waiting patiently.

"Enough," she said, tossing him a coy smirk without really meaning to.

He bit his lower lip as he smiled, chuckling under his breath when he poured a generous glass of red wine for each of them. She thanked him as he took his seat and grabbed his plate to dish out their dinner.

"How much pasta would you like?"

Mer's face lit with charm and mischief as he turned to face her.

"Enough," he grinned.

The expression on his face was playful, his smirk devious and amused by his own response and his cheekiness settled warmly in Evie's stomach. Not only did she revel in it, but she also played into his whimsy and scooped as much spaghetti into his plate as she could before coupling it with the savory sauce and a slice of bread.

Despite being only strangers, the atmosphere that bloomed that evening was not marked by any hint of bashfulness, instead, it was relaxed and amiable. Warmth that Evie had longed to dwell in again—that unrefutable kindness she'd lost with the passing of her family—flowed uninhibited from the man sitting adjacent to her. His conversation was cautious but still jovial and genuine. It was the first time since running south Evie could recall what life felt like without grief and fear weighing upon her. Merriell was a stranger, but she felt safe with him. Jonny had never made her feel that way.

"So," Evie spoke as she twirled the last bit of pasta with her fork. "What is it you do, Mr. Shelton?"

Mer cast her a look of disapproval—no doubt in retaliation to being addressed so formally—before his features softened back into a neutral, yet somehow still amused side smirk.

"Nothin' too excitin'," he stated vaguely. "The odd jobs are what I like ta do the most—like fixin' ya car this aftah noon."

Without really meaning to, Evie leaned forward, resting her elbow and chin on the table, utterly enchanted by the beautiful stranger at her table.

"You like to get your hands dirty, huh? Fixing things?" she was entirely too intrigued with the thought of what he could do with his hands.

He shrugged, suddenly modest after a foray of playfully arrogant smirks and glances. It made him abruptly twice as charming.

"I've always had a knack for it, I guess." Merriell finished the food on his plate with the help of his remaining garlic bread to mop up the sauce still left on his dish.

"What about you?" he asked after chewing. "Ya workin' anywhere?"

All at once, a proud smile lit up Evie's face. After all the excitement of seeing Merriell again, she'd almost forgotten about her good news.

"Actually, I just got a job today—the general store downtown, Southern Comfort."

Mer's face lit up too, "Birdie's place?"

"Yeah, you know it?" Of course, he knows it! She thought, Bridge City's population was slightly less than the number of people who lived in a single district back home in New York. Everyone knew everyone else.

"Sho do—I was practically raised there…ole Birdie's like a second mothah to me."

"Really?" Evie found a great deal of comfort in that notion. In fact the more she thought on it, the more she realized how similar the old woman and Mer were; they radiated the same magnetism and sincerity.

"Mmhm," he nodded, his eyes focusing elsewhere as the veil of memories danced across the contours of his features. "My mama used ta work there…once upon a time…"

"Does she still work there?"

Merriell's face lost a hit of its levity and he swallowed as though to fight off the onslaught of sudden emotion threatening to cast a shadow onto his expression.

"No…" he said softly. "She—uh—she died, about a year ago."

Shit!

Abruptly, sick knots twisted into Evie's stomach, feeling callous, but understanding of the quiet misery he hid under layers of charm and arrogance.

"Merriell, I'm…I'm sorry—I didn't mean…"

He met her eyes and cast her a quick smile—doleful, but enough to ease the awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"It's okay," he reassured her, reaching for his glass of wine and taking a good gulp before changing the subject. "Birdie's great—you'll enjoy workin' for her."

"I hope so…" Evie said softly, still too embarrassed to meet Mer's glance longer than a second or two.

For the first time all night the atmosphere they shared felt cumbersome—perhaps more melancholy—than she'd wanted it to get. Evie sat, worrying her bottom lip, her fingers toying with a loose thread in the table cloth as she stole quick glances through her lashes in Mer's direction.

He was nursing the alcohol in his glass with the same sadness she'd caught plaguing him as he sat at the bar hours ago. And while Evie was eager to know if his grief stemmed only from the loss of his mother, or perhaps more, Merriell was still too much of a stranger to warrant such questions. It didn't matter how easy it was to be near him, she had not earned the right to know his narrative.

A soft sigh broke past her lips as she fought to find a way to properly allay the gloom that was quickly ruining an otherwise wonderful evening. It wasn't until her eyes found their desert sitting on the counter, waiting to save the day, that she perked up.

"Got any room for apple pie?" Evie asked with a hesitant smile. She hoped he wanted to stay long enough to have a slice, though she would not have blamed him for wanting to leave.

Immediately Mer perked up too, the shadows on his features retreating with the promise of something sweet.

"I was countin' on it—seems as how you promised a slice earlier," he said with a boyish grin.

When she stood, he did too, helping clear away their dinner plates, and letting them soak in the sink to be washed later. Evie cut them each a slice of apple pie and the delight on Mer’s face made her smile too seeing him lick his lips as his grin continued to grow. Catching that flash of his tongue was like a bolt of hot lightning striking her without warning; a blush rose so quickly on her cheeks Evie had to look away to keep the blunder a secret. Thankfully, the pie was more than enough to hold Merriell’s attention away from her.

“Mmmm… Almost looks too good to eat,” he said ogling the desert in front of him.

When Evie chanced a look his way, the expression on his face caused her to chuckle, “‘oughta be, I made one for my pa every year for his birthday since I was nine. It’s probably the only thing I have any confidence in making in the kitchen.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Mer quipped as he loaded his fork with as much pie as he could.

The moment he took a bite, his brows creased, and eyes closed as he chewed painfully slow. Those few seconds were like agony. Evie’s heart was pounding in her chest with so much anticipation she feared she might faint as she watched him sample the only thing she could actually make that was worth a damn.

“Fuck me, if that ain’t the best apple pie I’ve evah had the pleasure of tasting.”

A somewhat nervous, but relieved chuckle sounded in the back of Evelyn’s throat as she watched Merriell shovel a larger bite of pie into his mouth.

“Mmm… Yep. God damn delightful.”

“Stop,” Evie said sheepishly, suddenly afraid he was overselling his reaction to keep from hurting her feelings.

“No,” he wiped his mouth and leaned across the table to meet her gaze with a sincere expression that stole away all the doubt writhing in her stomach.

“I mean it. If I wasn’t so full of pasta, I’d eat that whole damn pie right now.”

“Well,” Evie grinned softly, trying not to let her blush color her cheeks too obviously. “Thank you. And you’re welcome to take the rest of it when you go.”

Excitement took form on his face with a smirk that was sweet but roguish all at once—a sort of debonair charm that amplified his magnetism—as if his bright eyes dark curls and razor-sharp jaw did not make him alluring enough already. Again she had to look away knowing the pink in her cheeks would be too strong to combat.

“Imma have ta take ya up on that offah. An’ I’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout you every time I cut me a slice.”

That blush was unstoppable; her heart was suddenly so smitten, it felt as though butterflies were fluttering merrily in her stomach. She felt weightless with warmth and hope swelling in her bosom, fearing any slight breeze would carry her off. It was ridiculous how at ease Evie felt sitting there eating pie with a complete stranger. The conversation had been easy all night; even when it had delved into less savory topics he still made her feel comfortable. Evelyn had forgotten what it was like to be in the company of a man who wasn’t easy to anger, who was genuine and kind and wanted only to live in the moment.

For a time the whimsy of the atmosphere faded as the warmth in her heart ached, suddenly missing her brother James and Cynthia's brother Charlie. Both of them were good men, kind and genuine—like Merriell—but they had been swallowed by the rages of war. Brave young men were lost forever, while a man like Jonny Doyle was still alive How was that fair?

No matter how pleasant her thoughts could be, they always fell back to the grief that plagued her. She sighed, deeply, pushing those intrusive memories back into the depths of her mind so she could find joy once more in the moment with a kind stranger.

When Merrill finished his plate he made a beeline for the sink full of soaking dishes.

“Oh, no,” she said jumping to her feet. “I can do those.”

Merriell, however, shook his head. “Uh-uh, you did the cookin’, I can do the cleanin’.”

When Evie tried to argue, Mer simply shook his head, his grin amused but determined as he kept scrubbing the dirty dishes.

“Let me help at least,” she suggested. “I’ll dry and put them away.”

Before he could protest, she snatched the freshly rinsed dish from his hand and began wiping away the droplets of water clinging to the porcelain surface, throwing him a smug smirk that made him chuckle.

“Alright,“ he smirked.

She watched him for a moment not really paying attention to her task as he scrubbed the old plates clean, overcome with a blissful vision of peaceful domesticity. It made her stomach fill to the brim with whimsy and her heart was fluttering again; had this stranger bewitched her already? Or did what she feel bubbling lightly in her gut like a seltzer stem from an end to her loneliness—even if it was only for a few hours? Evelyn didn’t know. Nevertheless, she was intrigued with a profound feeling and she wanted to dwell in it for as long as she could.

Occasionally as he would hand a freshly washed dish her way, his calloused fingertips would brush against her skin, igniting a spark she didn’t know how to react to. It was more than an amicable tingle racing from the tips of her fingers right to her heart. And each time they touched, Merriell would cast her a gentle smile that held nothing more than his inherent charm and magnetism. She wondered if he felt it too, or if her need for companionship was playing a dirty trick on her.

When the dishes were all back in their usual places—the night drawing to a close—Evelyn realized she was not ready to say farewell to her Beautiful Stranger. She longed to stay up all night just chatting with him, she did not care about what, Evelyn only wanted to stay encompassed a while longer in the blissful warmth he brought into her life. Once he was gone, all she would be able to do was stay up and ponder the significance of those little touches and the sparks they brought.

Thankfully, Merriell lingered on the old rickety porch, one hand in his pocket, the other holding onto his plate of leftover pie, seeming to stall their inevitable departure.

“Well,” he said with a grin. “Thank you for invitin’ a stranger ovah for dinna.” He paused, glancing at the leftover pie in his hand. “Can’t recall ever having a better plate of pasta, an’ nothin’ evah gonna beat this pie.”

Evie quickly looked at her feet to hide another blush.

“It was the least I could do,” she told him before looking back to meet his eyes. “You have no idea how much of a savior you were this afternoon…”

A glint of concern flashed in his eye, his brows beginning to crease as his unspoken question lingered between them.

She thought about telling him—telling him how Jonny was nothing more than a throne in her side, and how much she cherished Merriells company—but Mer was still a stranger. It wasn’t right to unload so much onto someone she’d only known for a few hours.

Before Mer could offer any reply, the sound of screeching tires stole all their focus as an old wagon pulled along the curb—narrowly missing a collision with the mailbox. The rowdy passengers were laughing and shouting loud enough even before the door opened to let Jonny stumble out. He staggered on drunk feet and screamed a handful of profanities to his buddies in the car which made them all roar with laughter.

It was only after the wagon full of hooligans pulled away that Jonny began to stagger towards the house, and it was exactly then that Evie’s fluttering heart became consumed with panic.

She and Mer watched him cross the yard, unseen, both frozen: Evie in fear and Merriell in confusion. Jonny’s intoxication level inhibited him from taking notice of them until he was at the base of the steps leading onto the porch. Immediately, his eyes narrowed and he frowned.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Jonny, this is Mr. Merriell Shelton,” Evie said quickly, willing her voice not to shake.

The Doyle’s were not known for their hospitality, nor were they known to trust most people. Especially strangers.

“He helped me this afternoon with a bit of trouble I was having,” she explained vaguely, hoping to thwart any more suspicion. “I made him dinner to say thank you—he’s just about to leave.”

Jonny eyed Merriell, seizing him up as best he could through drunken lenses. Mer stood his ground, eyeing him back with a subtle intensity that never so much as cracked under Jonny’s scrutiny.

Finally, being the better man, Mer held out his hand in a friendly manner, “nice ta meet ya.”

Jonny cast a prolonged glare at Merriell's open hand, his brows furrowed and part of his lip hiked up in a sort of snarl. Instead of returning the kind gesture, Jonny made a show of spitting at his feet before tossing his heavy leer at Evelyn.

"Evie, do not invite any more strangers into my house. I don't care if they are dying." He shoved past them both, purposely bumping Mer's shoulder (most likely in hopes to start something) muttering as he went: "I don't trust any of these filthy southerners."

Shock sent Evie's jaw slack; this time the redness in her cheeks was a symptom of embarrassment instead of infatuation. She should have known Jonny would say something rude and uncouth. Without another thought, she grabbed Mer by his sleeve and pulled him across the lawn until they stood next to his truck parked along the curb.

"I am so sorry about him," she said, crossing her arms and glaring at Jonny's house, ashamed and angry.

Mer shrugged as he placed his partially eaten pie in the passenger seat through the open window before fixing his hands in his front pockets.

"Ya boyfriend's a bit of an asshole."

"He is not my boyfriend," Evie corrected vehemently. "I don't think he knows that though. I'm just staying here until I can figure some things out."

Merriell was quiet a moment, nodding silently. It seemed as though he was taking his time processing the whole situation. There was compassion on his face and behind his eyes, but it was guarded somehow. Evie caught it though and she was grateful when he didn't ask the questions plainly forming in his mind.

"Well," he said finally, his tone light as one corner of his mouth quirked into a grin. "Since he ain't ya othah half, I feel more inclined ta leave ya with this…"

Gently, Merriell caressed her upper arm as he leaned forward to plant a tender kiss on her cheek. He let his lips linger slightly longer than was common for such an act, that all at once wove a new hopefulness into her heart.

"Dinna was swell," he added as he pulled away, his smile somehow more charming than it had been all night. "Hope I see ya again, Evie."

"Me too," she murmured.

Evie watched as he got in his truck to leave, her hand held to the cheek he'd graced with his kiss. And when he drove away, it took everything inside of her to keep from running after him.

#Beautiful Stranger Series #Merriell Shelton x Original Character #Merriell Shelton #Snafu Shelton #HBO War #The Pacific #The Pacific Fanfiction #Rami Malek Fanfiction

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