#and I don’t recall if we ever saw her in the actual tower since I remember them always going to her when Vic got hurt

[frogaroundandfindout]

Kory and Jade accidentally walk in on Shift and Indigo having sex. Jade freaks out over it while kory says she’s seen stranger, but not usually on earth between bipeds. The two then talk about how people keep having sex in the battle cruiser. Kory says it’s not like the old titans tower didn’t have a room like that. (Outsiders Vol.3 #20)

[interactivefictionramblings]

[Spoilers for Heaven’s Secret: Requiem.]

Regarding how Cain & Lane knew each other before. I don’t remember if I’ve shared this already; I do know there are similar theories, though, ftr. We’ve been informed that at least some of those working at Siberia Base couldn’t leave, including Lane, because of the projects they were involved in. I’ve been wondering, due to the reaction Cain has when he gets onto the medical (read: torture) chair, in the sealed room at Siberia, if Lane was forced into working on the immortal-dissection project - the “Adam project,” iirc. Once Dimitry had unlocked the service door in General Lloyd’s office, we get the description that there’s many floors down.

I’ll come back to why that matters.

In the beginning of the story and later, like with the reveal of Boris’ betrayal, Lane references how she used to be. She used to be the Lane with Compassion (thus, when you unlock it, you get the banner you’ve reawakened your compassion). She used to care about others.

From what I recall, below is the first time we get the option to pick Voice of God or Whisper of the Devil, and Lane thinks about how she’s protecting an ember of her old-self on VoG:

Later, Lane talks about the darkness in her as being like she’s ill, and - since I was on Voice of God - she’s forcing it out like she’s got a cold.

Although I can’t say for certain if this is only on VoG or not. My point is, VoG+Compassion is, from what I can tell, canonically who Lane was before. When she first met Cain. Other theories about her being a part of the Adam project are about her lack of Humanity, actively harming Cain because she wanted to study him. But I don’t think this is something past-Lane would do. However, I do think it’s possible she was taken onto the project; with little information, most-likely. Past-Lane was just as calculating as any other Lane, so it’s difficult to say exactly what she would’ve done, but if she had the same level of compassion as when you regain it, I don’t think she would’ve been willing to let Cain or anyone else remain trapped. She’d be too horrified. So, I believe she went along with the project, then freed Cain, later framing it as Cain escaping on his own, which is how she’s still at Siberia in her last memory - when the base is collapsing, and Lloyd is seemingly shot.

I don’t think she could leave the base, they’d likely threatened her family if she ever tried.

Now, as I said, I’m coming back to why the multiple floors matter. First, some screenshots:

I already explained, but I think she helped him to escape. And this is when she first saw him lose control. The torture chamber is too small a place for Cain to go berserk and Lane to have survived, but we know the room exits right into an underground, tower-like space, with many landings for each floor. Presumably, on the last floor, Lane confronted Cain. She would’ve only gotten there after he’d killed everyone else. In the most recent episodes, we also learned that her memories with Cain connect to some time when they were seemingly surrounded by fire. In the present, he protects her as he flies them up and away from it. I’m guessing, like multiple times throughout their present relationship, it’s going to prove to be a parallel to their past one.

We also learned this update that immortals can read the minds of those they look into the eyes off. I think Cain read her mind when she tried to get through to him in the past, which brought him back to himself; because she only wanted to help. She had freed him - she wanted him to escape, before it was too late. We don’t know how much an immortal can read, exactly, from just one use of this power on someone, but his words when Lane was recovering from falling into icy water (and finding the torture chamber) were: “I once met a woman whose thoughts were much aligned with mine. They weren’t rosy, sometimes quite nauseating actually. But she amazed me; that someone could share such feelings. I remembered her. So, I took a closer look. I wanted to get to know her better, but, to be honest, I shouldn’t have. Then she disappeared.”

These are very interesting. He specifically says her thoughts aligned with his, and that their feelings were similarly shared. He also says he remembered her, and I wonder if this has any special significance, because we don’t know what he remembers when he loses control of himself - we don’t have confirmation he knew what he was doing, for instance, when he went to Lane after she called out to him, while Cain had been destroying the monks. Maybe when he read her mind, in the past, it was the first ever time he had been in that state yet actually remembered something from it. That he didn’t just remember the moments after he woke up because of her, and her thoughts, but as soon as he looked into her eyes and started using his mind-reading, which never happened before.

It sounds like he used his ability on her again, after coming back to ‘take a closer look.’ Then he started getting attached, or maybe he got the base’s attention again, or both, and so he considered it a mistake (“I shouldn’t have”).

Likely not long after, the base collapsed. But I doubt that meant he simply moved on from her. Rather, I actually think losing her - having this certainty that he no longer had the chance to see her again, even if he wasn’t planning on ever going back, after visiting her once before - is what drove Cain to join the squad. He was alone for so long, and suddenly, he had Lane, and she amazed him by making him feel as if he wasn’t alone on Earth. Then she was gone.

In the latest episode, he indicates that Lane wouldn’t want to remember how they knew each other before. If she had been forced to be complicit in his torture, and he can tell she’s repressing those memories, it makes sense.

Btw, when we see the hall of Lane’s memories, there’s three closed doors, each with an image marking it. The one farthest away has a clear symbol for Baal, imo: a skull with large spiral horns like a goat’s. One has a gun. For the last, to the left, the carving is difficult to make out. But it can be interpreted as a like a chair. Like the one in the torture chamber. A seat, a wide back, and a stand. Of course, it could also be a lamp, or a wine glass. It’s really ambiguous rn. We don’t see the chair from the front during the only scene it’s in, so it’s almost impossible to connect that the marking might be referring to it. However, if it was, it would make sense in hindsight; the symbols only make sense with context. Without the context of Lloyd being fired at, the locked door with a gun carving on it wouldn’t be guessed to hold that memory.

[i-heart-yellowstone]

29 - The Fight Doesn't Stop

Part 30

Raised Fair Share of Hell

Comments really appreciated ❤️

“Actually Jamie you should have been here a long time ago.” Jaime, Kayce and I all shifted in our heads in the direction of the voice watching Beth stroll into the light of moon.  “I’m going to give you two options.  Option One : we put your ass down in that canyon with the other people who have tried to come for the ranch.  Option Two : you turn yourself into the police and confess to everything which will result in you spending the rest of your life in prison.  I’ll give you a minute to think about it but you aren’t leaving here without making a choice.” 

Jamie sharply turned his head in my direction,  getting to his feet.  “Alissa  - how could you do this to me.  I'm- I'm the Attorney General of the State of Montana.  I am the one that created this place.  You can't put me here!” He went to run back to the truck right before my husband wisseled with his fingers to his mouth causing his brother to halt. 

Coming out of the shadows I saw Rip, Ryan, Liyod, Colby, Teeter and the others members of the Bunkhouse aiming firearms.  Finally John Dutton strolled from behind his former son grabbing him by the back of his shirt, holding him on the ground on his back towering over him.  “This place was created for people like you, Jamie.” 

“Alissa  - help me!” He begged only to me. 

John tightens his hands on his throat choking him so he would pay attention to the man above him.  “Nobody here can help you.  You've betrayed this families trust.  And now it’s time you pay.” 

“You said I have two choices.  Let me choose.  Let me choose.” He begged his father. 

John got up to his feet, putting his boot on his chest glaring down at his former son.  “You've got two minutes to make your decision.  But mark my word you will suffer in one form or another for betraying the family, tryin to kill me and for nearly getting Alissa arrested for something she'd never do.” He removed his boot going to stand by his daughters side. 

“Alissa, please don’t let them kill me.  Please  - I have only ever been a good Uncle to Faith and Tate.  I have been a good brother in law to you.  I - I have - helped you give your daughter her name.” Jamie began crying looking over to me, sobbing heavily where I parted my lips recalling the moment he was talking about. 

Laying in the hospital bed I was cradling my newborn daughter in my arms.  She was wrapped in a soft pink blanket simply staring at her.  “I would have been here sooner but my flight came in late.” Lifting my head up I saw my brother in law Jamie walking into my room. 

“It's okay.  You're here now.  That's all that matters.” I sent him a smile. 

He pulled up the chair to my bedside eyeing my newborn girl.  “Where’s Kayce at?” 

“He went to the cafeteria to grab some food for us.” 

Jamie raised a hand running his thumb over his nieces cheek.  “Have you thought of a name for her yet?’ 

“Not exactly.  We've been unsure of what name fits for her.” 

He thought for a moment before an idea came to his mind.  “How about the name Faith.  Like you will always have faith that things will work out in the end.” 

“I love that, Jamie.” I smiled grinning down at my sleeping daughter in my arms. 

Footsteps entered the room where I saw Kayce sit down a tray of food seeing his brother meeting our daughter.  “How’s she doing?” Kayce bent down kissing the side of my forehead gently. 

“She’s doing perfect.  She's been sleeping since you went to get food.  And your brother came up with a name for our little girl.  Do you wanna hear it?” 

Kayce sat down on the edge of the bed brushing my hair out of my face sending me a genuine smile.  “What did you think of naming her?” 

“Faith Rae Dutton.  What do you think?” I asked him hoping that he liked it. 

Kayce leans down kissing me slowly and I felt a grin spreading across his face.  “I love it, Lissa Rae.” 

“I'm glad I could help.  I'll leave you guys too it.” Jamie smiled getting up from his seat, waving bye and leaving the room. 

Kayce took his chair silently staring at his daughter. “She’s the best thing that ever happened to us.” Nodding my head I laid my head back against the pillows, closing my eyes and getting some sleep after hours of being in surgery for a C-section. 

Blinking through tears I reached inside my husband’s back pocket taking his other handgun from his pocket.  Stomping up to my brother in law I aimed the firearm at Jamie's forehead where he started scooting backwards until he hit Beth's legs gulping nervously.  “Alissa, please don’t kill me.  I didn’t mean for the cops to ever hurt you for John’s attempted murder.  I just  - I was doing that to save the ranch.  The airport benefits the ranch.” 

“You let someone trick you.  You couldn't keep your mouth shut.  You are an idiot to think that Sarah wasn't going to do what you asked of her.  She only had a job to completely get rid of the man who raised you, who put you through Law School and who made you the man you are now.  Regardless of all that you claim him to be a monster and that he should be dead.  You're freaking pathetic, Jamie.  Now make your choice in the next second or we'll pick for you!” 

Jamie gulped, shifting his gaze around the group of people aiming firearms at the lawyer.  “I - I - I'll pick option number two.” 

Beth yanked her brother up from the ground punching him straight in the face where he collapsed down onto the gravel dirt.  “You little fucker better remember if you try to touch our ranch again.  You will end up right here as a bag of bones.” Jamie held his jaw shock written on his face but no one had made a move to stop her. 

“Knock him out and take him back to the ranch.  I'll gather what we need for him to confess everything.” John had his hands in his tan jacket that had orange liner on the inside.  He walked up right up to his now only living son.  

Kayce draped an arm over my shoulder and I laid my head against his chest sighing heavily in relief.  “Do you think that’s the last time we’ll have to fight to keep our home?” 

“I wish I could say yes, darling. But unfortunately the airport won’t be the last one.  Progress will always be our enemy.” He responded keeping his gaze trained on Rip and Liyod who had knocked Jamie unconscious again and were going to be the ones to take him back to the ranch where the police would be waiting and we would present them with the evidence of the adoption papers that showed how he found out John Dutton wasn’t his biological father. 

Lifting my head up slightly I got lost in his deep brown eyes.  “I guess you’re right.  Progress will come for the ranch someday.” 

“Look at it this way.  Jamie was our biggest threat and now he won’t be a problem anymore after tomorrow morning.” Kayce pointed out to me, grasping my hand in his taking me back over to his truck ready to go home.  “Let’s get back to the ranch.  We’ve got a big day tomorrow morning.” 

That next morning everyone in our immediate family was dressed up in business clothes since we would be seen by everyone in the state.  Kayce was attempting to fix the collar of his shirt in the mirror with me walking up behind him in the State Capital building.  “I don’t have any scissors for you to cut a bigger hole in that shirt collar of yours.” 

“I shouldn’t need’em.  I just hope this doesn’t take too long.  I’d rather be spending time with you, the kids and our family on the ranch than in front of a bunch of cameras.” Kayce dropped his hands giving up with the fight with his light blue collard shirt, turning around to see me standing in front of him wearing a dark red dress that went to my knees, my hair was slightly curled and I was wearing my brown riding boots that weren’t very muddy. 

“What’s that look for?  Is it too much?” 

My husband strides over closing the gap between us, connecting his lips down onto mine.  “Nothing's wrong.  It’s just - damn you look good, Lissa Rae.” 

Gripping the fabric of his dress shirt I leaned up on my toes deepening the kiss.  Kayce wrapped one arm around my waist bringing me closer and we were so engrossed in one another that we didn’t hear someone walking up to us.  “Kayce.  Alissa! They’re ready for us.” We separated seeing his sister standing there in a dark blue dress and black boots. The three of us. 

Me, Kayce, Beth, Faith and Tate were standing behind the podium in the center of the stage where I glanced over to the steps watching Jamie get escorted on stage by a few capital policemen and Detective Dillard stopping up behind the podium speaking to the state.  “Good morning citizens of Montana.  I finally have come to the conclusion of what occurred the morning our beloved Governor John Dutton was nearly killed.  The morning of the incident the power was unexpectedly knocked out the security cameras meaning we could rely only on witness testimonies.  There was many other pieces of evidence that helped us close this case but the important thing to know is that we have caught the man who ordered the killing of our Governor, Jamie Dutton.  Jamie shall be charged with attempted murder and will be sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole.” 

“Detective, can I ask-“ A reporter up at the front of the crowd starts to ask but gets cut off. 

Detective Dillard raises a hand waving the officers to remove Jamie from the public view.  “There will be no questions answered.  Now please let me introduce our current Governor John Dutton.” The crowd clapped and cheered yet I watched them remove Jamie from sight and the look on his face was completely broken. 

The double doors opened revealing John Dutton who slowly walked up to the podium.  Cameras focused on where he stood and I saw many officers from the police and livestock all looking for any signs of trouble just in case someone wished to try and take his life a second time.  My father in law cleared his throat tapping the microphone before he began his speech.  “When I first took this spot on this stage I told you I was not a politician,  that statement is still true today.  My only plan as your Governor has not changed.  I will still do everything in my power to preserve my family’s way of life and I will do the same for any true resident of this state that lives the same lifestyle as me and my family.  And to anyone out there who thinks they can get rid of me and stop my plan to keep this state the same way it is, you’re wrong.  I am not the only one who wishes to protect my home.  This is my home, this is our home, and we will defend it.” John stepped away from the podium getting escorted inside the State capital building. 

Kayce and I remained standing on the stage with our kids running off to go play seeing as they didn’t want to stay still for the cameras any longer.  Reaching inside one of my boots I tapped my husband’s arm slipping something inside his pocket.  “I need to go to the bathroom.  Can you come with me please?” 

“Yeah sure.” We entered the building heading to the nearest bathroom and he started to wait outside in the hallway until I reached inside his coat pocket.  “Alissa, what are you - is this a pregnancy test?” 

“I felt sick this morning but didn’t have time to take a test till we got here.  I took it right before your father gave his speech and I didn’t want to tell you with all the cameras on us.” I grinned brightly up at my husband who was holding the test in his hands. 

Kayce scooped me up twirling me around in circles chuckling until he set me back down on my feet.  “We’re having another baby.” 

“Yeah we are.  But I think we should tell your family tomorrow.  Today has already been crazy enough as is.” I kept my arms wrapped around his neck nuzzling my nose against his. 

Kayce kissed me gently relieved that life was getting back to normal for him and his family.  “We can do whatever you think is best.  I just want you and the family to be happy cause I know I am.” No matter what, the Yellowstone ranch was here to stay along with John Dutton. 

Tag list @bvbwestfall @hcwthewestwaswcn @child-of-of-the-sunshine @elenavampire21 @keep-the-wolves-close @kmc1989 @tallrock35 @whatelsecouldgowrong @lover-of-books-and-tea

[buckys-black-dress]

see through

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

a/n: i dont have much to say other than that it's 1 am and i needed to get this out of my system. chapter 4 of play the game is underway, i promise. also, there will be a pov switch in this fic!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. = POV change!

wc: 4.1k words

[ neighbor!bucky barnes x fem!reader ]

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

-

Every Friday night, without fail, you saw the light filter into your apartment.

Notice how you said night?

Yeah, it was almost two in the morning, by the way.

And why was there light coming through the chiffon curtains you had hanging on the rod above your window?

(Great choice on your part, by the way.)

Well, because of your neighbor.

You've seen him a few times, actually. Usually on the street outside your buildings, or just out and about. Never spoke to him, though. He was quiet, kept to himself. Didn't seem very friendly or willing to exchange a greeting if he ever saw you.

But you never took it personally. Maybe he was having a bad day. Every time you saw him.

But that's besides the point. The point right now is that you can see the lights blaring in your room. From the apartment across from yours.

Should it even be possible for light to travel that far? I mean, we don't even live in the same building. You think to yourself as you watch the colors dance in the dark.

You debate getting up and yelling out your window to tell him to shut that shit off or to invest in some blackout curtains. You were tired of sacrificing your sleep every week.

But then you decided against it, because you quite frankly could not be bothered to get up from the warmth of your bed. You'd tough it out for the night, but the next time you saw him, you'd have a few words for him.

-

The next morning, it was almost ten when you woke up. You didn't have your shift at the coffee shop you worked at until three, so you took your time in making your way out of bed.

You noticed the curtains of your neighbor's apartment were still open, but you could see his figure moving across the room. He was clearly on the phone with someone, and he didn't look too happy. You wondered what could have him so angry at such an early time of the morning. He seemed like a person who could use someone to talk to, someone who he could vent to.

But before you let your thoughts get ahead of you, you turn away from the window, heading back into your kitchen to eat breakfast and get ready for the long day ahead of you.

-

"Hi, what can I get started for you today?" You ask as brightly as you can muster at the moment. You were halfway through your shift, another three hours until close.

"Uh, just a large black coffee." The gruff voice says, and it takes you a second until you look up and look closely.

It was him.

"O-okay, that'll be $3.27." You say, and he hands you a five dollar note before grumbling,

"Keep the change."

"Thanks, and your name?"

He gives you a look that's asking, 'what the fuck do you need my name for?'

"For the order." You try and salvage your dignity, because it feels like the stare shrunk you to a speck of dust.

"James."

That's all he all but growls before turning back to find a seat.

As your coworker takes over the cash register, you grab the biggest cup and fill it with his desired coffee.

You try to not think about it too much, but the anxiety you feel rising up inside you and just calling his name to give him his coffee feels absolutely ridiculous.

"Are you just gonna stare at the cup or give it to the customer?" The voice of your coworker, Jenna, rings in your ears and you look up at her, snapping out of the trance you were in.

"Sorry, I'm just a little out of it today, I guess."

"Everything alright?" She asks, and you nod.

"I'm fine, it's just... that's my neighbor." You nod your head towards where James is sat, in the corner by the window as he watches the raindrops run down the expanse of the glass.

"The one who doesn't let you sleep?"

"Yeah, but I don't think he'd take it too kindly if I tell him about that. He seems to have a lot on his own plate anyways," You explain, and she just nods.

"Well, that sucks, but you still need ta' give the guy his coffee." Jenna smiles and walks back to what she was doing before.

You gently slide out from your spot behind the counter and walk to his table.

"Here's your coffee, James. Enjoy, and- uh, let me know if you'd like anything else." You tell him while placing the steaming cup in front of him.

He murmurs a thank you that you barely catch, but you don't quite have the time to sit and wait for more of a reaction.

For the next several hours, James sits right where he was. He doesn't do anything in particular, either. He just watches outside, as the rain continues to pelt down on New York City, and as people come and go from where they were.

Eventually, about an hour left until close, you offer another cup of coffee.

"Do you want a refill? On the house." You ask gently, waiting to see if you'll get brushed off again.

"Uh... are you allowed to do stuff like that?" He asks, and you're a bit taken aback at the sudden concern.

"I don't think you should worry yourself too much, James. Free coffee's free coffee." You smile lightly, and grab the cup before filling it up without his confirmation. You could tell he wanted to say yes but didn't want to seem rude.

"You didn't have to..." He grumbles, and you simply shake your head.

"I know, but you've been here a while, and what kind of employee would I be if I let a customer sit here without any sustenance?" Your lips ply into a tiny smirk, trying to get him to loosen up a bit.

He seems so guarded, defensive. Like any moment, he's ready to run if need be, you inspect to yourself.

"You'd just be a regular employee, Y/N." He says, but the way he says your name makes a shiver run down your spine; and you can't tell if it's a good or bad one.

You unconsciously look down at your name tag, pinned to your black apron that's branded with the café's logo.

"Well, I felt like being nice. I hope you can deal." Your voice comes out short, but he knows you mean no harm.

As you walk back to the counter, you see a small smile playing on his lips, but he doesn't allow it to manifest on his face. You take that as a small victory for your last hour of work.

(bucky's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The girl who works at this café is annoying.

But she's got a nice smile. And she's nice to me, Bucky thinks to himself.

He sips on the new coffee you'd just poured for him, without his consent, he thinks bitterly.

But it was a nice gesture.

Why can't you just take a nice gesture?

Because your brain's been scrambled eggs for 70 years. You don't know what to think about anything these days.

He watches you fiddle with the espresso maker, cleaning it with a rag, which you then dip into a bucket.

You look extremely familiar to him, but he can't exactly pin where he's seen you before.

Bucky closes his eyes for a moment, trying to recall where he'd seen you, but for a moment, he comes up with nothing.

Ever since he's been living back in the real world, he hasn't been outside too much.

He goes on the occasional walk, or goes to the tower to see Steve and Sam.

But other than that, he spends a lot of time in his Brooklyn apartment. He watches movies that Steve suggests, or he invites Steve and Sam over to have beer and watch TV with him.

He hates how lonely it gets, though.

Bucky wishes that he had someone.

Someone who could understand.

And don't get him wrong, he loves Sam and Steve. They fill in the gaps in his days, and they make them better.

Sometimes, thinking about having something to do that day is what makes it. He likes having something to do, something to plan for for when his friends come over.

But it feels like a teeny, tiny part of his life is missing. A person shaped-hole in his heart.

But Bucky doesn't spend too long thinking about it, or it'll send him into a spiral about failure and how he needs to 'push himself to get out there more.'

Or that's what his therapist says.

"Hey, we're about to close, and we usually throw the pastries out at the end of the day. Do you wanna take these home, by any chance?" Your voice rings in his ears, snapping him out of the impending slippery slope of his lack of love life.

He hesitates to answer for a second, looking at the brown paper bag pinched between your fingers.

Bucky can tell you were nervous when you spoke to him. He knew he made you uneasy, and it killed him inside.

He hated that. He just wanted to have a normal conversation with someone. But everyone seems to know who he is.

Who he was.

"Uh, what is it?" He croaks, unsure of what to say at your gesture.

"It's a few cookies and a chocolate croissant."

"Sure, I'll take 'em." Bucky simply answers, watching as you hand the bag over with a soft smile and watches you walk back.

You sweep up the floor and put up all the chairs, except for the one Bucky's sitting on. You leave his table alone, and bid farewell to your coworker who was scheduled to close with you.

Bucky doesn't know what drives him to do it, but he gets up after he sees you walk out the door, and follows you home.

Damn, if you like a girl, you usually ask for her number or somethin'. Not follow her home to make sure she's safe, you idiot. Bucky's inner voice speaks and sometimes, he wishes it would just shut up because he knows he has no game nowadays, but this is all he knows to do.

He realizes the way you're walking is familiar, and not at all of the way he was supposed to be going. That made him feel a little better, less like a creep. He's about half a block behind you, and when you turn onto the same street he lives on, he's really confused.

Did you know he was behind you? Are you trying to play a trick on him?

But before Bucky can speak up or say something, you walk right past his building, and into the one right next to it.

All of a sudden, images of you right on the street in front of your buildings flash through his head. He's seen you because you're his neighbor. Bucky's seen you right there, getting ready to start your run through the neighborhood, or probably on your way to work, now that he's seen where you work.

But he feels like there's somewhere else he's seen you; somewhere familiar.

He shakes his head, wondering why he's so caught up in you. He thought you were beautiful, but he feels a pull to you that he's never felt with anyone else before.

Bucky's hands move to unlock his door, sliding the key in and twisting the lock open.

He enters, staring at his dark apartment. It's moments like this, when he spends a long day alone, that he wishes there was someone.

Someone to come home to, to hug, to kiss, to share dinner with.

Some to fall asleep with at night. Someone to keep the terrors of the dark away.

But there was no one.

And then his mind thought back to you. Your hair, your face, your warm hands that touched his while you passed him the brown paper bag of treats.

Bucky wishes he was man enough to ask you out. Not even that, just to talk to you. Have a normal conversation, to get to know you.

But that wasn't in the cards for him anytime soon, he thinks.

For now, he focuses on taking things one at a time. And right now, all he wanted was a nice, warm shower and to get at least three hours of sleep tonight.

He's in his room, forgoing the lights for now, before he looks out his window.

For a moment, he believes his eyes are playing tricks on him.

There's absolutely no way that you are standing right there, right outside his window.

Well, in your own apartment, of course.

And there's absolutely no way in hell that Bucky is watching you undress right now.

As soon as you pull off your top, Bucky turns around before he could get more than a peek of your black lace bra, and he feels a burn in the pit of his stomach.

He can't tell if it's shame, guilt, or arousal.

(y/n's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You couldn't stop thinking about James all day.

After yesterday, you wondered why you couldn't shake this feeling about him.

He'd made it quite clear that he's not a people person. Or maybe he just wasn't a you person.

But again, you tried to not take things too personally these days.

Sometimes, you wondered, though, as you looked through your bedroom window to his some nights.

You imagined what it would be like, watching one of those movies with him at night. Making dinner with him. Having coffee in the mornings before work, wondering what he did for a living.

You chastise yourself for your thoughts, thinking that you were crazy for these ideas you were coming up with out of nowhere.

As you pull off your clothes to get ready for bed, you feel the same emptiness fill your heart when your head hits the pillow, and another day has gone by where you're all alone.

-

The next day, your shift was at ten in the morning so you were up early.

You took your time in rolling out of bed. The warmth of your duvet was holding you down, and you couldn't help take a peek out your window.

You see that the room facing yours is finally housing a body in the bed. In all the time you'd been living across him, you've only seen him on the floor.

You feel a warm flutter at that. Whatever reason led him to actually sleep in the bed last night was, you hope you played a role in it.

-

You make your way to the café, and although walking in the rain wasn't ideal, you made it, somehow.

You clock in and head to the register, ready to take the millions of orders that come in through the day.

"Hi- oh! Welcome back. What can I get you?" Your tone of voice made it clear you were surprised, but was trying to not let it show.

"Uhm, just the same as yesterday, and... Can I get a chocolate croissant?" Bucky's gruff voice tells you.

You ring him up, wondering if you should say something about him being your neighbor. Although, he didn't seem too keen on looking you in the eye right now, and you wonder if you did something to make him uncomfortable yet again.

He seems to have this issue quite often.

Little do you know, this time, it isn't because of you or anything you did.

Well, nothing you did on purpose.

Nothing you were aware of at the time.

Anyways, you tell James to go take a seat and that you'd be right out with his order.

"Here you go, James," you place the plate and mug on the table, and this time, when you hear him say something, you turn around with furrowed brows.

"Sorry, I didn't catch what you said." You apologize, waiting for him to repeat himself.

"I- nevermind, it was stupid anyways. You probably have to get back to work." He mumbles while looking back down at his pastry.

"James, whatever it is, you can tell me." You offer with a kind smile. "I can come sit with you during my break, if you don't mind?" A hopeful smile crosses your face.

"Uh, I- yes, yeah, that would be nice." He struggles for a moment, but finally nods his head in confirmation along with his words.

"Alright, James. I get off in an hour for my break." You simply tell him with a soft grin, and you can practically feel his eyes burning into you as you walk away.

The blush creeping up your cheeks also stays there until the remainder of your shift.

-

As you plop in the chair across from James, you inspect him for a moment.

He was attractive, you'll admit.

Okay, he was more than attractive.

"So, James, where are you from?" You ask, your own cup of coffee in front of you on the table.

"Well, I'm Brooklyn born 'nd raised. Never was a time I didn't live here. You?" His lip twitches, looking out the window fondly.

"That's nice. I moved here when I was nine, so I guess I've been here a while. But no matter where I go, there's nowhere like home." You smile.

"There really isn't, huh? This place is irreplaceable." He gives you a crack of another smile, and you find yourself yearning for more from him. Just a tooth, something.

"Well, do you live around here?" You ask, deciding to play coy. You wanted to see what he'd say.

"Uh, yeah, actually. Over on DeKalb and Clinton." He clears his throat, the hint of a smile on his face melting right off.

"Huh, that's so funny. I live on those streets too." You grin, waiting to see his reaction.

"O-Oh really?" James doesn't really know what to say without giving away that he knows where you fucking live.

"Yeah, isn't that funny? Which building?" You're pressing, and you know he knows, but you're having your fun right now.

"T-the uhm... I live in the Washington." He's now making zero eye contact with you, and you're close to breaking.

"What a coincidence! I live in the Oakley!" You're in a fit of giggles when his face drops, you just can't help it anymore.

"James, can I tell you something?" You ask in a coquettish manner.

"Yeah, I suppose you'll tell me even if I say no." He gives a tight smile as a joke.

"I don't wanna sound like a creep, but I knew you lived in the Washington."

"Oh," James releases a breath of relief, "thank God. I knew you lived in the Oakley, but I didn't wanna sound like a stalker either." He says.

You laugh, sliding a hand on top of his resting on the table.

"Y'know, you do this really annoying thing where you leave your movies running on full brightness on your TV, and I can see it through my windows at night." You laugh at the incredulity of the situation.

"Oh... I never even thought of that. I'm sorry, Y/N." He looks genuinely remorseful, and now you feel bad for any bad thought you've had about the man that lives across from you.

"It's alright. No big deal." Your smile does a good job of convincing Bucky that you truly weren't bothered by his actions, but he still felt bad.

"Y'know, maybe I could make it up to you?" He asks, and you feel a blush moving up your chest. "Like, maybe over dinner?" His voice is timid, you can tell by the way he tilts his head down while speaking.

"James," you slide your hand into his this time, your smaller one resting in his large metal one. "I'd love to go out with you sometime."

Before he could react, you stood up from the chair.

"My break's over, but I get off at 3." You lean down and pull a pen from your apron, scribbling your number onto a napkin. "Here."

You walk away before he could say anything, but there's something about him this time that you notice.

He's blushing, too. And he's smiling. A bright, white, blinding smile.

You think of that smile throughout your whole shift, until you see he's still waiting for you when it's time to go.

"So, do you like Chinese or Italian better?" He asks with a crooked smile.

-

bonus scene:

six months later

You and Bucky are laid across your bed, the TV blaring a movie that neither of you are paying attention to. Your head is resting on his shoulder, leg thrown over both of his, and his hand running through your hair.

"You wanna know somethin' doll?" Bucky asks, and you feel his chest rumble under your head.

"Yeah, everything okay?" You ask while leaning up on your elbow to get a good look at him, trying to gauge his mood.

"Everything's okay, just remembered something." He laughs, his hand moving to hold your jaw in it. You shivered at the touch, but smiled fondly at the action.

"When I first saw you at the coffee shop, that first day when you gave the free coffee and pastries... I followed you home."

Your brows furrow and it's clear that you were confused as to why.

"I wanted to make sure you got home safe, and then it turned out that you lived right next to me. So I went up to my apartment and wondered what I'd done right in a past life to have you live right next to me, and then I saw you lived right across from me." His face was tipped upwards, like he was replaying that night in his head.

"You followed me home just to make sure I was safe?" You asked in disbelief that he did something so nice for you, when at the time you thought he hated you.

"Of course, sweetheart. It was dark out and there 're some real jerks out there, y'know." One corner of his mouth lifts up in a soft smirk. "Didn't want anything to happen to ya."

You lean down and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, appreciating his gesture.

"I really thought you didn't like me back then, so this is a nice little secret you've been hiding from me." You giggle when he pulls you back in for a real kiss.

"Yeah, well, I don't think I could'a hated you if I tried, baby. You're too sweet. And at the time, I was still getting used to being out in the open without being a national security threat." You both laugh lightly, dropping your head down.

A moment passes where you bask in his words, letting them soak in. And then a thought hits you, and you can't help but become more curious. Now you need to know the answer.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, hon." Now Bucky's brows are pulled together, and you reach up and smooth out the wrinkle with your thumb.

"Did you ever... see me doing anything in here? Like, I usually keep the curtains open, and even if they're closed, they're pretty see-through..." You trail off, giving him time to craft his response.

You have a feeling you know the answer, considering how he turns red like a tomato in an instant as words leave your lips.

"I... there was this one time, but I swear, I wasn't trying to peep on you or anything, it was the same day I followed you and I just so happened to look into your window, and you were getting undressed, but I swear, I turned away as soon as I saw what you were doing, baby-" He was rambling, trying to save himself from sounding like a complete creep after all he's just told you.

"Did you like it?" You ask, innocently, but he knew what you were trying to do.

"I-I- You were getting undressed, sweetheart, of course I liked it... are you kidding me?" Bucky's grasping for the words, trying to make you understand.

"Well... we could always recreate it, but maybe in the same apartment this time?" You cock your head to the side, your doe eyes stirring a feeling in his abdomen.

"I think that's an excellent idea, honey." Bucky's hands grasp your waist as you slide on top of his lap. "After all, I am a hands on learner."

-

fin. i hope you enjoyed!

[asweetprologue]

me lámh le do lámh - Part I

Ahh I can’t believe it’s finally done! After a year of working on this beast, it’s finally ready for me to share. This is something I started way back last summer, and I decided to finish it as my project for this year’s @geraskierbigbang. It will be ten parts in total, and I will post one part per day until it is complete! There are several art pieces that were created by the wonderful @herostag​ and Miranda.draws for this story, which I will link when the appropriate section is posted. For a summary and further links, please see the masterpost.

Next | Ao3 | Masterpost

“Alright,” Geralt said. “Don’t laugh at me.”

Yennefer looked up at him with bright eyes, curious and already mirthful. She was sitting across from him in his quarters, reading through a tome she’d found in Kaer Morhen’s disheveled library. Geralt had just come from a bath after hours spent training Ciri in the yard, and the room was filled with the warm evening light, supplemented by the fire crackling in the hearth. Yennefer had insisted on carting dozens of tapestries and drapes to hang around the drafty keep, and the room was nearly stuffy with their bulk keeping the heat in.

Yennefer gave him an amused smirk. “I will make no such promises before I even know what you’re going to say.” The gentle teasing brought a fond smile to Geralt’s face. After the events of the mountain all those years ago, things had been understandably tense. Yennefer had been reluctant to join them when she had finally met up with Geralt after Sodden, but had eventually agreed to seek refuge in the witchers’ keep and teach Ciri to control her magic. Once she’d met the girl it had all been a wash; it was clear as soon as their eyes met across the room that Yennefer was as much a part of Ciri’s destiny as Geralt was.

Geralt had expected that to either mend the rift between them enough for things to go back to the way things were, or make things even more awkward. Instead, they found themselves in a sort of in-between. Over the years his affection for Yennefer had only grown, but he found himself looking to her more and more as a friend—maybe his best friend. After Jaskier, of course.

Speaking of. “I was thinking about Jaskier.”

Yennefer rolled her eyes obviously. “As you are so frequently wont to do. The thaw will come soon enough, dear, and you can run off in search of your bard.”

Geralt felt his ears grow warm. Witchers couldn’t blush, not truly, but he still felt the tingle of it as he fidgeted with embarrassment. “That’s not what I meant,” he said, absently tracing a finger against the grain of the wooden table. There were two goblets of wine sitting between them, but so far neither of them had begun to drink. “Do you know how many winters it’s been since I found Ciri?”

If she was confused by the odd turn in subject matter, Yennefer didn’t show it. Instead she looked thoughtful. “Two, perhaps three? You know I don’t follow the seasons with diligence.”

“Neither do I,” Geralt agreed. “I was thinking the same though, two or three years since the fall of Cintra. Which means Jaskier is…” He paused, trying to do the math. “He was a few years past forty, during the dragon hunt, I think. He must be closer to fifty now than not.”

Yennefer raised an eyebrow at him. “I recall mentioning something about his crows feet. What of it? Humans age. Are you only just discovering this?”

Geralt forced himself not to grumble. In a way, he was only discovering it. He’d known humans across the years, of course, and knew that many that he’d once been acquainted with were no longer alive or were in their twilight years. For decades Geralt had wandered through the world, changing no more than a ghost would, touching the lives of regular mortals for a brief instance, maybe a few times if they were particularly unlucky. No one had stayed by his side, dedicated themselves to a relationship with him, the way that the bard had. The amount of devotion that Jaskier showed to him had made Geralt antsy, in earlier years, and then confused and angry by turn. He had hated the idea of someone needing him, had hated needing someone in return. The way his chest felt heavy when he and Jaskier parted ways had left him furious with himself and the bard.

And then Ciri came into his life, and everything had changed so quickly.

With Ciri, it didn’t matter whether Geralt felt like he should care for her, or if he wanted to. He needed to. Without him, the girl would die, or be kidnapped by Nilfgaard for who knows what purpose. He had to feed her, and clothe her, and teach her, and he had to love her for her to thrive.

She made it very easy. It was only afterwards that he realized how much of an idiot he’d been to Jaskier, and the thought of how he’d treated the bard over the years had plagued him. It had been months before he could find him to apologize, but Jaskier forgave him almost immediately��which Geralt found both relieving and infuriating at the same time. This was the first winter they’d spent apart since. Geralt left the keep more rarely now, heading out on the Path only when the months grew truly warm and returning at the first hint of falling leaves. Ciri was safe on her own, he knew, but he missed her when he was away. And he could admit now that one of the forces driving him back into the world over the last few years had been the itching desire to find Jaskier again and settle the yearning in his chest for another year. He was less inclined to venture forth when his bard, his daughter, Yennefer and his brothers were all in one place.

This winter Jaskier had begged off, saying that he had “work in the south,” which could mean anything from spending a decadent winter in the court of some noble or sludging through the front lines as a Redanian spy. Geralt had learned not to pry too deeply into Jaskier’s business when he wasn’t around. It was often either too explicit for him to stomach or too confidential for Jaskier to share freely.

It worried him, being away from the bard for so long. He could get hurt, or captured by Nilfgaard, or worse. But what really terrified Geralt was the idea that he would find Jaskier in a tavern along the Path and realize that the bard had grown old, to find silver in his hair and wrinkles beside his eyes. “He’s getting too old,” Geralt said to Yennefer, who looked at him with sympathetic eyes.

“You must have known when you started travelling with him that he would eventually leave you,” Yennefer said, not unkindly. “Humans are so short lived.”

“I didn’t exactly get a choice about becoming his muse,” Geralt said with a huff. Despite his improved relationship with Jaskier over the past few years, he still found it difficult to admit that he had always been more than willing to let the bard tag along. If he’d wanted to travel alone, he would have. But he never had. “I just didn’t realize…”

“It always comes sooner than you think it will,” Yennefer sighed. She set her book aside and picked up her goblet of wine, turning to look out the large window their table sat in front of. It faced west out of the keep wall, towards the mountains and the forest beyond. The sun had set below the craggy peaks, throwing the snow covered valley below into darkness. Geralt could just make out the ruins of the old tower, its stones dark against the white landscape. “You can’t cure his mortality, Geralt.”

“We did.”

The look that Yennefer gave him was sharp, almost angry. The firelight in the room turned her violet eyes darker, like mulberry wine. “At great cost,” she snapped. “I can’t imagine you would put him through the Trials.”

A stab of panic shot through his gut at the thought. “No. Of course not. He wouldn’t survive it anyways. Only children stand a chance at all.”

Yennefer nodded, apparently satisfied that Geralt hadn’t completely lost his mind. “The boy hasn’t got an ounce of Chaos in him, in spite of his rather chaotic nature, so I highly doubt they’ll accept him as a late trainee at Ban Ard.”

“There must be other ways,” Geralt said, feeling petulant. “Less conventional.”

“I cannot believe we are actually discussing this,” Yennefer said, rising to her feet. She picked up her book from the table as well as her glass. “There is no way to achieve immortality, especially not without sacrifice. You know that, Geralt. Drop this foolish line of thought.”

Geralt rose after her, reaching out to catch her retreating wrist. A grasp loose enough that she could break it, if she wanted, but Yennefer paused. “Please, Yen. Just… look into it for me? I can’t—the thought of—” He cut himself off, dropping his hand away from her arm. The look she gave him was more pitying than he would have liked.

“I’ll do some research, but nothing more. Don’t get your hopes up, Geralt. There’s a reason there are so few of us,” she said. Her face softened slightly, as much as it ever did. Despite Ciri, Yennefer was still made of more glass and fire than anything else. “I know you love him, even if you can’t admit it to yourself. I promise, I will do my best.”

Geralt nodded wordlessly as she left and wondered if Jaskier's eyes would be as bright next time he saw him.

*

For weeks Yennefer said nothing about his request, and Geralt refocused on spending time with Ciri and preparing to depart for the spring. Lambert and Eskel had already left a month before, as soon as the road down the mountain began to thaw, but Geralt had hung back. The roof needed repairs, a difficult job to do in the midst of winter, and it was a hard task to leave for Vesemir alone. It was always like this, now—him looking for odd jobs to keep him at Kaer Morhen, with Ciri, making excuses until Jaskier’s jitteriness or Vesemir’s raised eyebrows forced them on the road again. Some of that was mitigated this season by the silence he heard when he found himself listening for the sounds of lute strings strumming gently in the background, and Geralt’s increasing anxiety about Jaskier’s wellbeing. Even so, it was hard to leave Ciri behind.

The girl was progressing rapidly as she entered her teen years, the chubbiness of her youth morphing into lean if awkward muscle as she continued to work on her swordsmanship. When Geralt and his brothers weren’t pushing her through drills, she was studying monsters and alchemy with Vesemir, or practicing her magic with Yen. She never seemed to tire, eagerly absorbing any lessons passed on to her and desperate to prove her worth. The only person she seemed to let her guard down around was Geralt, who found himself often goading her into mock wrestling matches (which he refused to throw on principle) and humoring her when she became restless and wanted to explore beyond the keep. Kaer Morhen was dangerous in the winter, but as spring approached and the deep snows on the surrounding mountains began to thaw, the duo spent more and more time trekking through old ruins and sleeping beneath the stars.

He could put off his journey south no longer.

“I’m going to be fine, Geralt,” she said, rolling her eyes at him. He wondered if he’d been this petulant as a teenager. Certainly Lambert had. “I can take care of myself, and Yen will be with me.”

Geralt tapped her wooden training sword with his own, indicating that she should prepare to go again. When he was a boy he’d trained against the other foundlings, stumbling around like pups through drills and sparring matches. Ciri trained against full witchers, and only Eskel ever faked a misstep here or there to allow her to get in a good hit. When she won a fight for the first time, it would be on her own merit.

The girl raised her sword into a decent fighting stance, and Geralt moved to correct her footwork. Her sword work was exceptional above the belt, but she consistently forgot her stances, throwing herself off balance. They’d begun putting her on the pendulums to force her to focus, dancing between posts to attack the dummies. Geralt had spent many a night rubbing salve into her bruised shoulders, gained from taking fall after fall from the low poles. No one forced her, but if there was one thing Ciri hated, it was admitting to weakness in herself. “Sword up,” Geralt said, and launched into his attack.

He stayed on the offense, forcing her to practice the defensive drills they’d started going over recently. “I know you’ll be fine,” he said, continuing their conversation. His breathing was relaxed, almost meditative through the slow exchange of blows. “Just seems cruel to leave you with only the old man and Yennefer for company.”

Ciri giggled despite herself, and Geralt found himself grinning back before he smacked her lightly in the ribs with the training sword. She swore—Lambert, Geralt thought with chagrin—and danced back a few paces. “Gotta focus,” he said, still smirking at her.

She poked her tongue out at him childishly and reposted off of one of his blocked attacks. He easily swayed out of the way, but the movement was fluid and smooth, which meant someday it would be fast, faster than he could dodge. He gave an encouraging nod.

They continued to spar for another half an hour or so before breaking, heading to the well to fill their water pouches. Geralt sat on the short ring of stones and Ciri slumped on the ground beside him, leaning against his leg. The simple trust and familiarity she exhibited around him still took him by surprise, sometimes. “I’m leaving tomorrow,” he said, rubbing a hand over the top of her head. Her hair was almost as white as his.

She sighed, wiping dripping water from her chin as she tossed her water pouch down. “I figured,” she said. “Say hello to Jaskier for me, when you find him? I missed his songs this time.”

Geralt’s caress turned into a playful ruffle. “I will. Any requests for books?”

“Ones about Elves,” she said immediately, “and Skelligan alchemy. It’s different from ours, did you know? The Druids—”

Geralt chuckled. “I know. You’ve said half a dozen times. No fairytales this time?”

The girl hummed, reminding him for a brief and touching moment of himself. “Just bring Jaskier back. He tells about your adventures so much better than you do.”

“He’s certainly made a career out of it,” Geralt grumbled, feigning annoyance. “I’ll do my best. You know how he is.”

“You missed him too,” she said, hitting his knee with one closed fist. “I know you did. You get all…Well, more grumbly and mopey than usual, when he’s not around.” She wrinkled her nose up at him in exaggerated disgust. “It’s gross. But I do want you to be happy.”

Geralt knocked back against her gently with his knee, swallowing around the feelings that rose in his throat. “You just think I’m a boring old man who won’t help you put toads in Eskel’s bed. But you never even ask. I’m the expert, not Jaskier.”

Ciri laughed, bright and crisp in the morning air, and Geralt felt warm despite the fading winter chill. Tomorrow he would leave, and he would find Jaskier, and next winter he would tell Jaskier that he had to stay at Kaer Morhen. For Ciri, if nothing else. And if it was more for Geralt’s sake than anything, well, no one had to know.

*

Yennefer found him before he left, saddling Roach in the stables.

“Go to Triss,” she said by way of a greeting. Geralt knew what she meant by the gravity in her tone and the tension sitting in the corners of her mouth. “Ask after Ida. I don’t know where she is or if she’ll speak with you, but a Sage is the only one that might be able to give you anything.”

Geralt reached out to grasp her hand firmly in his own. “Thank you, Yen,” he said honestly.

The sorceress sniffed. “Well, you owe me one, I suppose. I hope you find what you're looking for. But be careful.”

“I won’t do anything that might put him in harm’s way,” he promised. “I swear it.”

“Good.” She gave him a slight smile before leaning in to brush a kiss over his rough cheek. The simple touch warmed him from inside out. “Say hello to the bard for me. Tell him I heard about that disastrous competition in Vizima. Ought to have him stewing for a good long while.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “I’ll give him your love as always.”

“Goodbye, Geralt,” she said, patting his arm lightly. “Be safe. You know how to reach me, if you have need.”

“I do,” he said. “I will. Take care of Ciri.”

“It’s more the other way around, I’m afraid,” she said with a soft smile, and Geralt understood exactly what she meant. Ciri had saved them both, in more ways than one. Every time he left her was more painful than the last. Someday, he knew, they might travel the Path together, a witcher, a sorceress and their daughter. Maybe even a bard, if he was extremely lucky.

Geralt hoped he would be.

[wondernimbus]

no time to die — tom riddle

pairing: tom riddle x female!reader

prompt: "i'd fallen for a lie, you were never on my side."

a/n: this was inspired by the song no time to die by billie eilish so i highly highly recommend listening to that while reading! the prompt/lyric itself isn’t in the actual text but it was based off of it eeee anyways enjoy

It should never have come to this.

She’d warned him, time and time again, that if he didn't stop, she would have to interfere. Whether he liked it or not.

He never listened, of course. He’d said the same thing he always did: that everything he was doing was leading to something much, much bigger than she would ever be able to imagine. Never quite specifying what it was, exactly, but [Y/N] wasn't dumb—she knew Tom wasn't up to any good.

It was during his fifth year that she first tried to confront him about it, only to no avail. Tom had told her not to worry, putting on that same facade of complete composure that he'd used to fool so many others into believing that he was nothing but the picture-perfect student he made himself out to be. [Y/N] saw right through it, as she'd done so many times before.

They’d first met when they were eleven and grew closer ever since. Tom, she supposed, knew right off the bat that he wasn't fooling her; it was clear in the way she looked at him, so full of doubt and suspicion, that she wasn't easily fooled, young as she was. It should have made him want to avoid her, but instead he only grew curious, and before he knew it they'd become something akin to friends, growing more and more intimate with the passing of time even though neither of them ever quite addressed it.

The two of them cared for each other, that much was certain. She wasn't sure how deeply Tom cared for her, but she knew that she would do anything for Tom. Or at least whatever she thought was best for him.

And maybe it was for that reason that [Y/N] found herself outside of Dumbledore’s study, hand hovering in mid-air mere centimetres from the wooden door as she took in a shaky breath, wondering if this was the right thing to do.

She knew Tom better than she knew anyone else, and she knew that he was getting worse, growing more distant with each passing day. She was losing him to.. whatever his plans were. He was beginning to spend more time with his so-called group of admirers (although [Y/N] knew that the term "followers" was more appropriate). What little glimmer of sanity in his eyes that always used to show only whenever he was around her was slowly starting to dim.

She wasn't just losing him; he was losing himself, too, bit by bit. And she knew she had to do something about it.

So she knocked on the door.

"Come in!" came Dumbledore’s voice.

[Y/N] took in another deep breath, furled and unfurled her fingers, swallowed, and then she twisted the knob and pushed open the door.

She’d only been to Dumbledore’s study once before, to ask him a question about homework. Such drastically different circumstances she found herself in now.

"Good evening, professor,” she said, meeting the old man's gaze from where he sat behind his desk. There was an open book in front of him—when was there not?—and what looked like a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans clutched in his hands.

"Ah, Miss [Y/L/N]," beamed Dumbledore as he held out his box of treats. "Would you like to have some?"

Rather used to Dumbledore’s peculiar friendliness, she forced a smile and shook her head. "No, thank you."

"I imagine you don't make it a habit to visit your professors as a means of enjoyment," said Dumbledore, wizened old eyes twinkling as he set down the box on his desk in favor of clasping his hands together and setting them over his book. "So what, might I ask, brings you here? Oh, and please—sit." He gestured to the plush chair across from him.

[Y/N]'s movements were hesitant as she made her way to the chair and took a seat; something that didn't go unnoticed by Dumbledore, judging from the sudden somberness that crossed his face. It was clear that she wasn't here to ask about homework, much less share a box of jellybeans.

"Is everything alright?" Dumbledore frowned.

[Y/N] looked down at her lap. She couldn't stop fidgeting.

Tom was going to suffer for this. She didn't know how, but she knew he would. But she had warned him, hadn't she? She’d told him that if he didn't stop whatever it was that he was up to, she would put a stop to it—and this was better for him, wasn't it?

She knew what Tom was capable of. To anyone else he may have looked like nothing but the perfect model student, but [Y/N] knew him. He had a certain kind of coldness about him. The dangerous kind; the one that suggested he was capable of doing terrible, terrible things.

That, coupled with the nights he spent somehow sneaking out of the castle, only to come back in the early morning with a disturbingly triumphant gleam in his eyes.. the countless reports of dead Muggles in the surrounding villages.. the young followers he'd already amassed, some greedy for glory, others hungry for cruelty, some weak and seeking protection.. his seemingly harmless talks of immortality..

And the constant talk of a plan that would bring about some sort of change in the wizarding world. Somehow [Y/N] knew that whatever this change was, it wasn't going to be a happy one.

"Tom," she breathed out, deciding to cut straight to the point as she looked up to meet Dumbledore’s gaze. "Tom Riddle. I’m sure you know him."

A brief look of realization flashed in the old man’s eyes. Shifting in his seat, he looked down at his book momentarily as though pondering over something, and then back up at [Y/N], gaze now completely serious. “Yes,” said Dumbledore. “Of course.”

”And I know that you have your doubts about him.”

A beat of silence. And then he nodded. “I do, Miss [Y/L/N].”

”He’s planning something,” she said, oddly breathless. “I don’t know what, but he’s.. he’s up to something.”

A ghost of a slight smile appeared on Dumbledore’s face. “That much I have figured out as well.”

[Y/N] swallowed. “I think he’s trying to make a Horcrux.”

A tense silence followed her words.

The weight of what she said hung heavy in the air as though a dark cloud had settled over the room. For a few seconds all Dumbledore did was peer at her through his half-moon spectacles, brows creased just the slightest bit, and then, after what seemed like an awfully long time, he let out a long, low breath and nodded.

"I wish I could be more surprised," sighed Dumbledore. "But I'm afraid I've long since had my suspicions about Mr. Riddle, and I don't doubt your words, even though part of me wishes they were untrue."

"He mentioned the word Horcrux to me once, in passing," began [Y/N], relieved at how easily he trusted her. She'd always known Dumbledore was wiser; while the other professors had fallen for Tom's spell, he had not. "Something about having found an answer to his problems—the answer being Horcruxes. something about a soul in exchange." [Y/N] paused, fists clenching in her lap. "I decided to look into it. It took me a while—none of the books in the library here hold too much information about it, but I looked through my family's library when I came home during the winter break. I found out what the word meant.. how to make it."

"And you believe Tom might be interested in—"

"In making a Horcrux, yes." Her tone of voice held a sense of urgency; she'd leaned forward unconsciously in her seat. "I know it sounds mad, but professor, I know Tom. I know what he's capable of. And I—" she inhaled, as though bracing herself for her next words, "I believe he'd be willing to kill for the sake of immortality. Saying it out loud sounds ridiculous, but Tom is hungry for power. I don't know what kind exactly, but I've known him for a long time and I'm sure I'm not just imagining it. He even has followers of his own—he calls them friends, of course, for the sake of normalcy, but they're more his subjects than anything else. He's up to something."

She was betraying Tom, she knew. She was the only person he truly trusted; it was clear just by the way he looked at her, the way he treated her like she was royalty. And [Y/N] felt just as deeply for him as he did for her.

[Y/N] loved Tom; it was why she was doing this. And if he loved her, he would understand.

There was a beat of silence as she recalled what Tom had told her, not so long ago. "Something big," she echoed, holding Dumbledore’s gaze. "Something much bigger than neither I nor you would ever be able to imagine."

—

The world seemed to be ridiculing her.

Two days after her conversation with Dumbledore, Tom took her to the Astronomy tower and confessed that he did, indeed, care for her. And not like a friend would care for another, nor the way a brother would care for his sister—no, he loved her like a man would love another woman.

Tom loved her.

But that wasn’t all he confessed. Finally, he told her of his plans to seek immortality, and along with it, power; how, in the future, he planned to purge the world of non-magical blood. He told her that his plan was already in motion.

This boy standing in front of her, only sixteen—had he murdered someone already?

The mysterious deaths in the Muggle villages surrounding the castle.. [Y/N] had her suspicions, but she’d hoped that it wasn’t him.

”We will rule the wizarding world together,” Tom told her, hands holding the sides of her face, pulling her close. “Bit by bit, we will gain power together. You will be at my side as I become the most powerful wizard of all time—and I will protect you with that power. I will make sure that no man will ever be able to touch you—“

”Tom.”

”I have never known love like the one you’ve taught me to feel,” he exhaled. “And I intend to keep it. To keep you.”

She closed her eyes, ignoring the tears burning behind them as she reached up, gently prying his hands away from her neck. “Tom, listen to me.”

He tried to hold her gaze even as she looked away; her hands gripped his own weakly. “What you’re talking about,” she began softly, “It’s.. I’m sorry, Tom, but it’s madness.”

He stared at her. “Madness.”

This time her grip on his hands did falter. Her arms dropped down to her sides as she turned to instead hold onto the railing, needing something to hang onto. “Tearing your soul apart? For immortality?” she shook her head, pained. “You can’t possibly expect me to stand by your side while you do.. Merlin knows what.”

Tom was silent, but the loving look in his eyes had died out. They were cold again. A little stunned.

“I love you,” she whispered, looking down at her hands, which clutched the metal railing as though it were a lifeline. “Just as much as you love me, Tom, I can assure you of that. But I can’t be with someone who—“

”Someone evil,” Tom cut her off. His tone was bitter. “Is that what you think I am?”

Isn’t that what you are? she wanted to say. Asking me to help you tear your own soul apart and stand by as you murder innocent people?

She swallowed, hung her head, eyes squeezed shut. “Please leave,” she said quietly. “I need some time to think.”

A few seconds passed by in complete silence. She could still feel his presence behind her—could feel the frustration radiating off of him.

“Please leave, Tom,” she repeated, ignoring the shakiness in her own voice. And then, louder: “Leave.”

She listened to his footsteps as he left the tower. And once they faded away, it was only then that she sank to her knees and started crying.

—

[Y/N] loved Tom, and it was for that reason that she found herself inside Dumbledore’s office that very same night, retelling each and every detail of Tom’s plans to the wizened old man, her voice oddly numb and devoid of any emotion.

No fear. No anxiety. Not even pain, as she stood before Dumbledore, betraying the boy she loved and yet could never have. Not with what he wanted to do.

”Thank you,” Dumbledore said once she was finished. Her jaw was clenched as she nodded, swallowed, and then—

What now?

She would go back to the Slytherin common room and face Tom again. What would she do? Take him into her arms and pretend as though all he’d confessed to her hours earlier was that he loved her, and not his horrible plans? Or would she ignore the ache in her chest and pretend as though all their six years of friendship were nonexistent?

Could she? Was her heart capable of that?

As though Dumbledore had read her mind, he said, “Miss [Y/L/N], I’m going to have to ask you to look for another sliver of bravery within you. You must continue to gain information from Tom.”

At this, [Y/N] looked up, the first few traces of real emotion flickering in her eyes for the first time since she arrived.

“Learn his secrets. His plans. Find out what horrid things he has already done and what he will do.”

[Y/N] opened her mouth. No words came out.

“I understand that it would be difficult,” said Dumbledore, tone gentle and yet at the same time authoritative; it wasn’t a request. “But as far as I am aware, you are the closest thing Tom has to a friend. It seems he trusts you.”

”And you want me to keep betraying him.”

There was an almost amused lilt to Dumbledore’s tone. “Were you planning on stopping after this, Miss [Y/L/N]?” he asked, brows furrowed in curiosity. “Did you honestly plan on walking out of this room and turning a blind eye to your friend’s dangerous schemes? I believe you and I reached an understanding the moment you asked for my help a mere few days ago: we will stop Tom Riddle, no matter what the cost. No matter if it risks your friendship with him.”

It risked everything she ever had with him. Everything she would ever have.

And yet.

And yet she loved him, and it was for that reason that she nodded and muttered, “I'll.. I’ll do what’s necessary.”

Meaning, she would betray him.

The first time she’d gone into Dumbledore’s office, she was determined. Nervous, yes, but she’d known what she had to do. But now, knowing that Tom loved her, that he trusted her enough to tell her of every single one of his plans—it changed a lot of things. Made her feel ten times more guilty than she already did.

But she had no choice. She had to stop him. She knew he wouldn’t even if she asked him to—the mere idea of it was unrealistic—so she had to find another way.

She had to trick him. To betray him.

If Tom truly loved her, he would understand.

[Y/N] hoped he would.

—

It took days before they spoke again.

[Y/N] had wanted to put off her task for as long as she could, but before she knew it, Tom was approaching her again.

It seemed he couldn’t last very long without her.

It was nighttime. She was alone—the rest of the students were at the Great Hall, eating dinner—so she had the Hogwarts courtyard all to herself.

Until someone yanked her by the shoulder, pulled her into them, and kissed her.

There was a brief moment of surprise in which she tried to push him away roughly, but then, wide-eyed and bewildered, she got a good look at him.

“Tom,” she gasped, but he kept his lips on hers, one hand on her waist and the other clutching the side of her face. The way he kissed her was almost feverish—desperate—as though he'd been longing to have this for a long time and wanted as much of it as possible now that he had it.

She thought of protesting, of pushing him away roughly and storming away, but instead she found herself relaxing into him; there was a part of her, she realized, that wanted—no, needed this as much as Tom did. So she kissed back, fingers pressing into his upper arm as she kissed him with just as much passion as he was offering her.

Warning signs flashed inside her head. Could she really do this? Pretend like nothing was wrong?

And then a thought came to her. A disturbing one, really—one that had what felt like guilt pricking at her chest as she molded her lips against Tom's own: this could work.

This was exactly what she needed to do. Pretend as though nothing was wrong, stay at Tom's side like this, grow closer to him, find out his secrets and his plans, like Dumbledore said—and then.

And then she would bring him down, in the end.

So she kissed him. Kissed him until she lost track of time; until the passion in her died out and was only replaced by a feeling of numbness, knowing fully well that the reason she was kissing him was no longer because of how much she wanted to, but because she had to gain his trust. When Tom pulled away, finally, lips swollen and eyes like dark pools of water, he leaned his forehead on hers and whispered, "I love you."

A chill ran down her spine. She swallowed and closed her eyes. It was easier not to look at him.

[Y/N] tightened her hold on Tom's arm and choked out four words that she meant fully well, and yet felt so horribly guilty for saying.

"I love you too," she told him, and hoped that he didn’t hear the trembling in her voice.

[waitimcomingtoo]

fine line - p.p

chapter 4

pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Synopsis: there’s a fine line between love and hate and you and Peter dance it on a regular basis

Series Masterlist and Regular Masterlist

“Would you stay with me?” You asked timidly, assuming the answer would be a definite no.

“Of course.” Peter nodded, making you recall the time your dad told you he would surprise you. Peter sat down next to you, giving you your space but still close enough to comfort you. You heard him chuckle after a beat of silence and looked at him curiously.

“You know, that’s the first time you ever called me Peter.” He commented, looking at you with a half smile.

“I’ve called you Peter before.” You insisted in your hoarse voice.

“No. I would’ve remembered if you did.” He chuckled. “You always call me Parker.”

“Oh. I guess I do.” You realized as Peter reached forward and wiped your tear with his thumb. You held eye contact with his and he dragged his thumb down your cheek, letting his warmth assuage your pain.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, giving him a weak smile.

“No problem.” Peter said sincerely. “This is the longest we’ve been in a room together without yelled at each other. It’s also the closest you’ve ever let me near you.”

“Sorry.” You said as you got ready to move. “I can move over-“

“No, it’s okay.” Peter stopped you by placing a hand on your arm. “I want you close.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth to hide how happy his sentence made you. Despite how awful you treated him, he was always kind to you. Usually his generosity made you even angrier, but you didn’t have the strength to hate him tonight.

“You shouldn’t be nice to me. I’ve never been nice to you.” You shook your head and look down at the box of tissues in shame.

“I believe in treating people how you’d like to be treated. You’re also letting me be nice to you, which is a nice change.” Peter cracked a smile as he brushed your wilting curls out of your face. You leaned into his hand for a moment, closing your eyes as you finally felt peace.

“I don’t hate you.” You said suddenly, making Peter raise his eyebrows. “You said I hated you before. I don’t, really. I’m sorry I made you think I did.”

“I’m sorry too. I know this hasn’t been easy for you. I didn’t even want to move in. Mr. Stark insisted, he thought I’d be able to keep you company.” Peter laughed slightly, feeling the irony of his statement.

“Then why did you?” You wondered. You always thought it had been Peters idea to move in as a way to reap the full benefits of being an Avenger, but it turned out you were wrong.

“My aunt just got this job at a charity and she absolutely loves it, it just takes up all her time.” Peter explained. “It’s the first time I’ve seen her happy since my uncle passed and I didn’t want her to chose between her job and taking care of me, so I moved in here. I…I didn’t know Mr. Stark was gonna take me on all the missions and stuff.” Peter said softly. “I never meant to take your place.”

You opened your mouth and quickly shut it, feeling incredibly stupid and guilty for how you’d been treating him.

“I didn’t know that. Any of that, I didn’t...I didn’t know.” You said quietly as your eyes filled with regret.

“You and I don’t talk much.” Peter shrugged sadly. You tilted your head to the side, looking at him sympathetically in an entirely new light.

“You were right before, you know.” You told him. “I am jealous of you for being my dads favorite.”

“Y/n, I was just saying that.” Peter apologized. “That’s not how I really feel and it’s definitely not true.”

You looked straight ahead at your deep blue bedroom walls and let out a sigh, knowing the impending conversation wouldn’t be easy.

“He wanted a boy.” You said after a beat of silence, busying yourself with your fingernails so you wouldn’t have to look at him.

“What?”

“When he adopted me. He wanted a boy.” You explained further, feeling a blush of embarrassment cover your face and neck.

“I’m sure that’s not true.” Peter shook his head as he shifted a little closer.

“Yes it is.” You smiled sadly. “They did all these family matching events at my foster home when I was a kid and he would always stop by. I always saw him talking to the boys. He never signed any papers though, I think he was just browsing.” You chuckled, and Peter did too.

“You don’t have to tell me if it’s difficult to talk about.” Peter said kindly as he rested a hand on your knee.

“I want to tell you so you can understand.” You insisted, feeling like this was your best shot at an apology.

“Okay. I’m listening.”

“I never got picked.” You came outright with it. “I would show up to these events in my best dress and biggest smile and watch all my friends get taken home by some family, even if it was just for a test run, but nobody ever picked me. It gets to you after a while.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea.” Peter sympathetically squeezed your knee.

“No, it’s okay. If some other family had wanted me, I wouldn’t have ended up with my dad.”

“You’re really strong for being able to see the bright side of all this. I don’t know what I would’ve done.” Peter shook his head as he got a look into your history.

“I appreciate that.” You smiled softly at him, letting him know you were no longer upset.

“How did you end up with Mr. Stark?” Peter wondered.

“He came pretty late one day, after an event had been going on for a while. He had Pepper with him that time, I guess he finally convinced her to come. By the time he arrived, all the boys had already been taken, and I could just see the disappointment in his face. Then he made eye contact with me.” You smiled to yourself. “I had seen him there so many times, but this was the first time we interacted. I had on this fluffy pink princess dress to make myself look more presentable. He saw me and laughed.”

“Princess. That’s why he calls you princess.” Peter made the connection.

“So you’re not as dumb as I thought.” You teased him, playfully this time, as you nudged him. “He bent down in front of me and asked if I’d like to live in his castle for the week, and I said yes. After the week was up, he brought a suitcase to my foster home. He said my suitcase matched his because we were a family now. It was the first thing that had ever been mine, you know? Not a hand me down or anything. It was mine. Those suitcases are all worn out now, but we still use them for every mission. At least, we used to.”

“Thats why you were upset he threw his out. Y/n, I’m sorry. I didn’t know any of this. You never - - You don’t talk to me.” Peter’s voice was pained as he got the full picture of why the fight had upset you as much as you did.

“I know. And I’m sorry for that. I know this doesn’t justify why I treat you the way I do, but I hope it explains it a little.” You looked at him apologetically. “It’s dumb but I always saw those suitcases as a symbol of our family. And then he goes and throws them out to buy one for you. Not that I would need one anyway since he stopped bringing me on missions and I just, I don’t know, I felt replaced.”

“That’s not dumb.” Peter insisted. “Mr. Stark likes having me around but I could never replace you. You’re his daughter. I know he spends a lot of time with me but that doesn’t mean he wanted a boy.”

“That’s not the only thing, though.” You continued. “When I got to his house for the first time, before the tower was even built, he already had a room set up. Blue walls and little shirts with sports slogans on them told me what I already knew. He wanted a boy. He wanted you.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d ever wear a shirt with a sports slogan on it.” Peter slipped a joke in, making you chuckle softly.

“Yeah, well. You check all his other boxes.” You reminded him. “You’re smarter than me, better at technology than I am, and you’re a freaking superhero for crying out loud. I can’t do half the things you can and he knows it. And when you guys save the world together or build these amazing inventions, it’s like you’re rubbing in all the things I could never do with him. It just reminds me that you’re what he wanted.”

“So are you. He loves you.”

“I don’t doubt he loves me. I just doubt I’d be his first choice.” You shrugged sadly. “You and I are both orphans and if you hadn’t had your aunt and uncle to take care of you, you would’ve ended up in the same place as me. And if you had been there that day at the event…”

“You think Mr. Stark would’ve chosen me, not you.” Peter finished your sentence, and everything made sense to him at once.

“Yeah.” You whispered as tears filled your red rimmed eyes once again. “I’m sorry I don’t call you by your name. I’m sorry I’m mean to you and push you away. But you have to understand, you’re not someone I ever wanted to know. And when you say things like him preferring you, I believe you.”

“I never should’ve said that. I wish we had this conversation when I first moved in.” Peter sighed heavily. “I would’ve understood you so much better. And I…I wanted to understand you.”

“You did?” You jerked your head back in surprise at his statement.

“Yeah. It was kinda a bummer when I realized my mentors extremely beautiful and intelligent daughter hated me.” Peter chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. “He talked so highly of you, I wish you could’ve heard it. He’s this world famous billionaire inventor and superhero and his greatest accomplishment is his daughter. It made me really excited to meet you. And then…”

“And then I made your life hell.” You squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment as you finished his sentence. “I’m sorry, Peter.”

“It’s okay. I still liked you, even if you were mean to me.” He smiled sheepishly. “I could tell you were funny and nice from when I heard you talking to other people. I just didn’t understand why you didn’t like me.”

“I feel like we could’ve been really good friends by now if I hadn’t been so quick to judge you.” You pouted as you looked at him. “I thought you were taking advantage of my dads money of something. You’re actually a really good guy. I should’ve listened the first 50 times me dad told me that.”

“We can still be friends. I think I’ll be around a while.” He teased your usual hatred of him being around as he bumped his shoulders against yours. You laughed as you moved together, feeling grateful for the second chance he was giving you. Something he had said clung to the back of your mind and in the name of being honest, you brought it up.

“Do you…do you really think I’m beautiful?” You asked curiously as you looked at him. A blush spread from Peters nose bridge all the way to the tips of his ears when he realized you caught his subtle compliment.

“Um, don’t you?” He shrugged, answering your question with a question to put the ball back in your court. Your lips twitched into a smile before you looked away, feeling flustered in place of your usual disdain.

“To answer your question from before, my date was lame.” You shrugged. “Harry was on his phone the whole time, something about fantasy football? I don’t know, I wasn’t listening. Rich people are like, super boring.”

“I thought you liked him? Last I heard, you wanted to be his girlfriend.” Peter couldn’t help from rolling his eyes as he spoke.

“Oof.” You clicked your tongue. “If you haven’t figured out by now that I played up my feelings for Harry to make you jealous, then maybe you’re not smarter than me.”

“You wanted to make me jealous?” Peter repeated for confirmation. “It worked, but why?”

“Do you want to know the number one thing that annoyed me about you?” You asked him, the fight a distant memory now.

“I don’t know. Do I?” Peter chuckled as he rested his head in his hands to look at you.

“No matter how much I disliked you,” you shook your head and shrugged slightly, “I always liked you more.”

“I thought you said you would never like me.” Peter recalled, a hopeful smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah, well,” you moved closer to him, sitting on his thigh and resting your hand on his shoulder, “I guess I had a change of heart.”

“Well.” Peter looked up at you with a fire in his eyes. “What ever am I going to do about that?” He said slowly as he drummed his fingers on your leg.

“Yeah. What are you gonna do about it, Parker?” You brought back his old nickname to really push him.

“I have a few ideas, Princess.” Peter mumbled before crashing his lips to yours. Your hands immediately went to his hair, tugging it for all the times he made you stressfully tug at yours.

“You drive me crazy with all your eye rolling.” Peter said between kisses as he pushed you down on the bed. “Nobody is that annoyed all the time.”

“Every time I saw you in the lab I hoped you’d burn your hand on the benson burner.” You confessed as you trailed kisses on his jawline.

“I hate when you leave your cereal bowls out. Do you know how disgusting almond milk looks when it’s left out? Ugh it made me so mad.” Peter groaned as he pinned you to the bed.

“I hate when you’re in the kitchen when I’m baking. You’re so annoying.” You whined, tilting your head up to kiss him.

“You’re so annoying.” He shot back as he pulled you closer.

“I cannot stand you.” You shook your head before kissing him again. “At all.”

“That makes two of us, princess.” Peter gave you a cocky smirk as his hand traveled up your leg. 

“I told you not to call me that, daddy.” You shot back, making Peter gulp. You laughed wickedly and propped yourself up on your elbows. “Thats what I thought. You’re all talk.”

“That wasn’t fair.��� He growled, teeth grazing your earlobe now. 

“You just can’t handle it.” You teased him. 

“I think I’m in love with you.” Peter said simply as he pulled his shirt over his head.

“Same.” You laughed at the irony. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

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[2manyfandoms2count]

Golden hour

I felt very indulgent today and decided to write some pure fluff. Caution: contains Shanghai special spoilers! Mostly Ladynoir, but also a bit of Marichat because yes.

Hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3

---

Chat Noir had to ask. He knew that there was a risk he would get caught out on his little lie, but hey. Even if they said curiosity killed the cat, the key part was that satisfaction brought it back.

“Hey, Bugaboo?” He lazily opened an eye and turned slightly towards her.

She hummed in reply, revelling in the warm evening sun.

She’s so pretty, Chat thought as he looked at her. Seeing her lying there so peacefully in the golden sunset, it was really hard to resist the itch to update his profile picture of Ladybug (and maybe, who knows, his phone background).

They’d both finished their ice cream a while ago, but neither of them had felt like leaving just yet. Basking in the last lights of a warm Summer day after a quiet patrol at the top of the Eiffel Tower, with the Champs de Mars on one side and the Seine on the other was exactly the kind of holiday each wanted. Especially if it was with the person they’d never get tired of sitting in complete silence with, even if they wouldn’t necessarily admit it out loud.

Ladybug shifted a little and Chat Noir cleared his throat, afraid that she’d catch him staring. His quiet admiration had almost made him forget his question.

“How long did it end up taking you to fly back from Shanghai?”

Her eyes flew open and for a second she looked like a deer caught in headlights, but it could have just been an adjustment to the light. Her cheeks were red when she propped herself on her elbow to face him, although it was hard to tell if it was a blush or the beginning of a sunburn.

“I’m not entirely sure, it must have been something like…” Ladybug’s brain whirred as it tried to grasp at an elusive physics class that might have held a ballpark answer. She knew that with the magic of the suits, even making a detour via the poles (mince, had she said she’d take the Arctic or the Antartic route? Did it matter? Why hadn’t she looked it up like she’d meant to-) was probably shorter than the average flight length. “Four hours? More or less?” She cringed a little as she waited for his reaction.

The latter turned out to be a squint, as Chat Noir tried to gauge if his own calculations had been entirely wrong, or if she was bluffing. Given that it took a plane a little more than twelve hours to fly back, he could see a detour via the Arctic possibly taking just as long. The powerup was pretty fast though, probably more in the rocket-speed range, so the travel time would have been significantly less. If the physics exercises he’d solved in class, which listed said speed to be around five thousand kilometers per hour, could be trusted, it cut it to about two hours, assuming there were no pit stops along the way. The Antarctic route would obviously be longer, given that Shanghai was, all in all, quite high above the Equator; he would have said it was probably a six hour flight at least.

Her time was therefore either too long or too short, and one question remained; which route had she said she’d take again?...

He saw her fidgeting increase with the length of his silence.

“It could have been six hours, though. Or twelve? Really, I don’t recall exactly, I forgot to look at a clock because it’s not like we have watches with our suits, you know?” She chuckled nervously as she tried backtracking and suddenly it dawned on him.

“You didn’t fly back, did you?” he asked softly, and her lack of response spoke volumes. “You had to go back and check on Marinette, and then you figured you’d stay a bit.”

It would explain the lack of patrol calls he’d gotten during the remainder of his short stay in Shanghai, when there’d been so many since he’d come back. She’d probably returned around the same time he had. He wondered if they’d crossed paths as civilians while walking around the city. Had he known she was there, he would’ve kept an eye out for anyone who looked vaguely familiar. Someone he could’ve seen in Paris as well. Maybe Marinette could have helped him.

She gave him a curious look, but then nodded along sheepishly. “How did you know?”

“It’s just the kind of thing you do,” he smiled. “Also, it would’ve been a little irresponsible for you to make the round trip within a day, especially after having fought two major Akumas. Not to mention a real shame, because Shanghai is quite lovely.”

“Are you saying you didn’t fly back either?” She nudged him with her elbow. “It’s not like you weren’t a part of those fights, too, and you talk about the city like you know it quite well.” She didn’t mention the fact that he would’ve had an extra reason to stay over, given that he’d actually been hit by the Akuma. She didn’t want to dampen the mood.

It was Chat’s turn to fidget a little. “Oh no, I definitely flew back, it’s just that, erm, well… oh! I arrived before you, remember? So it wasn’t so bad to fly back so soon afterwards, I’d had a bit of a break while I was looking for Marinette. And that’s when I did a little sightseeing, too. Our suits are really perfect for tourism, having access to the roofs helps prevent getting lost!”

“That’s true.” She smiled at his enthusiasm, thankful that he wasn’t pushing the topic any further. “Actually, speaking of Marinette… I wanted to thank you. I’m not sure how you found out that she was missing, but the fact that you flew out to help her…” She couldn’t express how much it meant to her, not without saying too much. She hoped that he would read in between the lines though, even if he thought it was just that she appreciated his dedication to helping out Parisians. Ever since she’d gotten her Guardian duties, she felt like things were changing in her life; it was subtle, but the ground was starting to feel shaky under her feet, and she wasn’t sure it was completely linked to the start of the summer and the end of collège. It was nice to know that Chat Noir was still here for her with or without the mask, even if he didn’t know it.

“It’s only natural. I would’ve done it for any civilian…” he started, and her shoulders slumped a little, even though it was to be expected. She perked back up when he leaned forward and continued in a confidential tone: “... but if I’m being honest, if there’s one civilian I’d drop everything for, it would be Marinette.”

She felt her cheeks warm and couldn’t repress the smile that spread on her lips. “Oh?”

“Well, she’s just such a valuable part of our team, even if you don’t use her potential much,” he gave her a pointed look. “And, well, it’s not like I know a lot about her,” he scratched the back of his head, “but one thing I do know is that she’s a very good friend, and just a very… solar person in general. She just radiates kindness and warmth, you know? And I… heard someone called her an everyday Ladybug once, and it’s a really good description. If everyone had a Marinette in their life, I think Akumatisation rates would probably plummet.”

Ladybug gulped at the compliment, which just seemed to come so easily to him. “Well, thank you.”

Chat Noir glanced at her and noticed her fluster. He leaned a little closer to her, eyes glinting mischievously and nudged her lightly. “My Lady, are you jealous of Marinette? Because you know I’d also say all these things about you if I knew who was behind the mask. You’d absolutely become the first civilian I’d drop everything for.”

“As if.” She nudged him back with a fond smile. “Silly kitty.”

She lied back down, and as he mirrored her, she scooted closer to him so she could rest her head on his shoulder. It was the best thing she could think of to thank him at that moment, even though she knew she’d be working overtime to find a proper gift to give him from Marinette.

Yes, her little holiday in Shanghai with Adrien had been nice, of course it had; but to paraphrase Dorothy, there was just no place like home. And this was exactly what this place felt like.

[clarste]

Since it's been a few weeks, what's your opinion on Chapter 8 of Arknights? Reading about your opinion on other pieces of Arknights has been very nice so far.

I find this enemy description inordinately amusing so I will start with this before going to spoilers below the break.

1) First of all I am a sucker for flashbacks following the villain, so the basic structure of Chapter 8 was right up my alley. Even if Talulah's arc was more or less predictable—who among us did not expect Alina to die? I think some people might feel that it was a little too long, but honestly I think it said everything it needed to say and frankly there is nothing more important the chapter could have said. If anything, the parts that weren't about Talulah would be first on my chopping list if I were editing this story down. In particular, the whole bit with Kal'tsit and the sarcophagus and all that had almost nothing to do with the themes of this chapter or the Reunion arc, so they seemed especially superfluous. Even if that story might have been interesting told on its own.

2) Talulah. The main character of this chapter, obviously. I think there are two different angles to approach her from that seem almost mutually exclusive, which are that A) she is a tragic figure who started with noble ideals but was pushed to her limits until she became a ruthless shell of her former self and B) she is literally possessed by Kaschey, ie: the Deathless Black Snake, who is the immortal spirit of Imperialism manipulating the country of Ursus into a constant state of war. From what I've seen of people’s reactions, I think most people focus more on angle B, which makes sense because that is literally true in the story, but what I took from it is that it's a lot more ambiguous than that.

What I mean is that the story is constantly emphasizing that the Deathless Black Snake can only take action as long as Talulah agrees with it. It's more insidious than just an external ghost taking control of her (and thereby freeing her of responsibility for her actions), it's a philosophy that was planted in her by her mentor, a way of thinking, an idea. A living meme. So when I say that it's the immortal spirit of imperialism, I don't mean that as a joke, it is the embodiment of imperialism itself, of imperialist ideals and goals, manifested in this particular person the moment she starts seeing her enemies as obstacles to be eliminated instead of people with their own motivations. I certainly don't think that the trigger for the transformation was set arbitrarily, that's just Who She Needed To Be in order to buy into the ideas that Kaschey and the Snake had taught her from a young age. It’s also an ancient god taking physical control over her, but hey, it's fantasy.

Ultimately, we didn't defeat the Deathless Black Snake in battle, we just gave Talulah second thoughts. And she will live with what she's done for the rest of her life.

3) Amiya. In this chapter, more than anywhere else, it's clear that Amiya is the main character of Arknights. Sure, we have whatever Kal'tsit is plotting, and whatever the hell the Doctor is, but that doesn't actually matter. In fact, they spent this entire chapter walking around in the basement and never once interacting with Talulah. The Doctor shows up at the end with no idea what's going on or what happened, which is quite comical when you think about it.

By contrast, Amiya sees the big picture. Of the three people on top of the tower during the climax, only Amiya knows what both Talulah and Chen have been through, or indeed what she’s been though. What brought them all to that point. She is watching all these flashbacks right alongside us through her empathy powers. Which, as I've mentioned before, is really the best superpower in this setting: the power to see the world through someone else's eyes, and to feel the pain that drives them. And we, the players, feel what she feels. In a certain sense, she's even more of a player avatar here than even the Doctor, which I mean in the best possible way.

And of course her empathy gives her cool shounen superpowers that are suspiciously similar to Emiya Shirou, but I will allow it.

4) Chen. Chen is honestly kind of the weak link here, imo. While of course we've been following her character arc since chapter 3 and I don't mind where they've taken her, it ironically kind of felt to me like she had no personal stakes in the final battle. Which is odd since the story seemed to be hammering that it's all personal for her, what with Talulah being her long-lost sister and all that. The problem (imo) is that her close relationship with Talulah is all Told-Not-Shown, and also that Talulah is being possessed by the Deathless Black Snake, so it kind of feels like she's being left out of the loop, both in terms of knowing the facts and also emotionally.

I'm not saying she doesn't get any good lines, or that her banter with Amiya isn't cool or funny, I'm just saying that what should have been a big emotional moment at the climax of the story just sort of fell flat for me, and I was left wondering "wait, why is Chen here again?"

That said, I did enjoy her bit afterward where she's like "you need to stand fair trial for your crimes, Talulah, but in this world that discriminates against the Infected, there’s nowhere worthy of giving you one." I feel that sums up the game's stance on these things quite succinctly.

5) Rosmontis. Rosmontis had sort of an interesting arc here because it separated her from Amiya and I almost want to say that was a good thing? While I thought her relationship to Amiya was one of the most interesting things about her in the previous chapter, it almost feels like it was preventing her from forming bonds with other people and becoming a more well-rounded person? I guess what I want to say that is that Rosmontis was being coddled, sheltered, treated as a child. While some would call her a monster, Amiya was always around to say "no no no, don't listen to them, you're cute!" And while that was certainly nice of Amiya, it feels like what truly made her accept herself was almost the opposite: being accepted as a monster (or rather, a person with monstrous powers) by people used to fighting alongside monsters. Being told that she's allowed to hate the people who hurt her, and to be ruthless to her enemies. That her own emotions, both good or bad, are valid. For the first time, she felt human.

What you'll note, of course, is that these aren't exactly heroic virtues, and in fact they're kind of similar to what Amiya rejects and what got Talulah into so much trouble? Honestly I don't know if I would say Rosmontis is a good person right now, but what she is doing is thinking on her own for the first time, and deciding what's right and wrong for herself. It sounds almost malicious to put it this way, but it's like Amiya and Rhodes Island were trying to mold her into someone she's not. In some ways the opposite of what Kaschey did to Talulah.

I don't think her story is over yet, of course, but I found it an interesting direction to take. Rosmontis is on the path to find her own justice, which may or may not align with Rhodes Island's.

Also, kitty:

6) W. Back when I was doing a write-up for chapter 7, I said that maybe she would have been better off being recruitable in chapter 8 instead of 7, because it seemed a little early in her arc for that. I was wrong. She wouldn't fit in for chapter 8 either. Honestly she probably shouldn't be recruitable at all right now, not that I'm complaining as someone who uses her. Just, you know, narratively she is not at a place where she would consider joining RI, and in fact she ends the chapter pretty much going "later losers, I hope we never meet again." Which implies that the W in my squad right now is like a totally different person who is either from an alternate dimension or the future, after a lot of character development. That's not like the worst thing ever, it just seems a little weird to have her right now. W's story isn't about Reunion and never was. It's about Theresa and Babel, which as of now we are still only getting little hints of. I'd be glad to see that story when it happens, but until then W's just kind of there.

7) Themes. For some reason, this one line in this chapter really hit me. While it's not literally true, especially if you count all the former child slaves or feral children and whatnot, it does feel broadly true that most of the characters come from middle-class backgrounds. Like, your Krooses and Orchids of the world. Kal'tsit goes on to explain that this is because RI can only really recruit in cities, and that rural Infected tend to get thrown into the wilderness on their own and have no idea that RI exists.

Interestingly, this idea also sort of comes up in Talalah's side, when it's revealed that Talulah is the daughter of a duke, making her followers hesitate for a moment. While I don't recall it being explicitly spelled out, the implication was obviously that she's not "one of them" and this might be a cause for distrust. But what are "they' exactly? Clearly she is in fact Infected, she made sure of that herself. But she wasn't abandoned in the same way her followers were. She had a choice, and chose to side with the Infected. Which is honorable of her and all, but it also indicates a fundamental disconnect between them because they never had a choice. She could've used her influence to hide her oripathy and be treated like a normal person (as we saw happened with both Chen and Patriot), or used her wealth to get sent to a fancy private hospital like Rhodes Island, with the latest medical technology and treatments.

So while the story focuses on the discrimination of the Infected, it's clear here that that's not really the only thing going on. Being Infected means little to those in power, while for those without power it's just an an excuse to intrude on their lives and make sure they aren't "harboring any Infected" or whatever. Basically the story starts discussing intersectionality, which I found interesting.

8) This is a good line:

[inkandpen22]

Otherworldly Kings and Queens (2/?)

Pairing: Peter Pevensie x Female!Reader / Prince Caspian x Female!Reader  

Warning: mild mentions of violence 

Word Count: 1.8k

Part Summary: Y/N and the Pevensies search the surrounding cliffs and they start to piece together what happened since the Pevensies leaved. Then, someone is nearly attacked... 

A/N: As requested, I’m releasing one more part today! In the next part Y/N meets Caspian!!!! Get hyped! 

Masterlist

After our antics on the beach, the five of us hike up the cliffs after Edmund spotted some old runes he mentioned not remembering. Peter holds my hand the entire way. One, because when does he not frankly? Two, because I don't keep my eyes ahead of us as I'm too distracted by everything around me. I've never seen any place Narnia! There's so much untouched land, for as far as the eye can see! I've lived in London my whole life. There's constant noise and good luck finding a patch of grass that isn't a park. I had only ever been to the ocean a handful of times and it never looked like this one. The water is so clear and crystal blue! Also, I swear I saw an actual mermaid tail flick up through the surface at one point.

"So you really don't remember these?" I question, referring to the runes. 

"Not from what I can recall," Edmund pants ahead.

Once we finally reach the ancient-looking stone structures, we all start to wonder about the place individually to figure out where we landed. Peter and I, however, remain together and stroll about. Trees and bushes of various kinds have grown over the rubble. It's must've been centuries, perhaps even thousand of years, since this place was inhabited.

As Peter climbs to the tallest point to get a better look, I pick a bright red apple from its branch and toss it to Lucy with a giggle. I stroll over to the edge of the platform that overlooks the western coast. Scattered bits of green covered land streak the horizon. Whoever lived here was lucky, they had the most incredible view! The sunsets must be unparalleled.

"I wonder who lived here?" Lucy questions beside me.

"I think we did..."

I glance over my shoulder and Susan holds up something in her hand. I narrow my eyes at the shiny object and I go over to join her.

"Hey, that's mine!" Edmund announces as he takes the thing from Susan. "From my chess set!"

"What chess set?" Peter interlocks his hand with mine once he reaches us.

"Well I didn't exactly have a solid gold chess set in Finchley did I?" Edmund sasses, examining the piece.

"It can't be!" Lucy runs off, shocker.

The four of us follow the youngest swiftly to catch up. It annoyed me when she would run off in London and I know that city like the back of my hand. If she continues to run off in a foreign land... okay, so I don't know what I'm going to do, but I sure won't be happy about it!

Lucy takes Peter's hand and starts to escort him up a platform. I slip my from his, which earns me a subtle glare of annoyance. I snicker as Lucy aligns Peter in a specific place. She sets each of her siblings in a spot, clearly onto something. 

 "Imagine walls," she instructs. "And pillars there!" She points before stopping in her own place on the far side. "And glass roof!"

I observe the four siblings lined up a few feet above me on the platform. I start to see what I think Lucy is envisioning. The pile of rock behind each of them, they're remnants of thrones! I look to Peter and he's starting to process it too.

"Cair Paravel," he concludes with a solemn expression.

We continue searching the once glorious palace that Peter vividly described to me countless times this past year. Peter is understandably crossed and has grown quiet. All I can do is continue holding his hand and rub my free one on his arm comfortingly. I hate not being of more use in figuring out what happened here. In my defense, I've never been to Narnia before.

Edmund jogs ahead and kneels beside a boulder. "Catapults," he mutters.

"What?" Peter finally breaks his silence.

"This didn't just happen," Edmund determines. "Cair Paravel was attacked."

After a moment, Peter marches off with a stern expression. Silently, he takes me along with him on his march without slowing down. Lucy and the others follow, just as confused as me. Clearly, Peter knows where he's going and is on a mission to get there. I would ask him where exactly our destination is, but I prefer to keep my head.

Abruptly, he stops in front of a tower-like structure. He releases my hand and starts to remove brush from the building. Edmund helps him press against the stone which eventually shifts to reveal a worn wooden door with a lion engraved on the handle. Peter picks up a rock and starts to go at the wood panels. The door breaks and gives way to expose a dark stairwell leading down. I glance over at Lucy and Susan who simply watch their brothers act. Evidently, they must remember this place too.

Peter rips the bottom of his shirt and starts wrapping it around a stick he’d picked up. "Don't suppose you have any matches, do you?" He checks with his brother.

Ed starts to dig through his bag. "No, but would this help?" He reveals his torch.

The girls and I giggle. Of course this would happen.

"You might've mentioned that a bit sooner!" Peter laughs.

Ed starts leading the way down the stairs. Peter gestures for his sisters to go then holds out his hand to me. He follows behind me down the grumbled stairs. I'm really trusting these four not to get me killed, aren't I? The three ahead of Peter and I and hurry around inside. 

Sunlight pours in from skylights and my eyes land on four golden trunks are line up perfectly in a half circle.

"I can't believe it," Peter expresses as he appears by my side. "It's all still here!"

The three younger Pevensies start to search through their old trunks while Peter and I examine the dusty treasures that have been knocked around from the attack. Peter picks up what appears to be shield and blows away the dirt that hides the giant lion face on it.

"Was it your's?" I ask over his shoulder

He hums, holding it out for me to see better. "Many years ago..."

My eyes flicker up from the shield and land on a marble statue ahead. The figure appears so familiar, yet how would that be possible?

"Wait," I step forward to study the face better. "Is this you?" I point.

"Yes," Peter laughs, placing a hand on my lower back gently. "Again, many years ago. I was older then."

I shake my head in awe, "yeah, no kidding."

"Here Y/N!"

I turn my attention to Susan and she tosses me a royal blue velvet gown. "You can borrow it," she grins. "It'll help you blend in."

I hold up medieval style dress in front of me. The only time I ever imagined myself wearing something like this was for Halloween.

"Take this too," Peter hands me a dagger from his trunk.

"Why would I need a weapon?" I frown. 

"Not every creature in Narnia is necessarily in favor of us," Edmund snickers, glancing between his siblings.

Peter rests his chin on my shoulder as I examine the red leather handled dagger in my hands. "It's alright," Peter comforts with a whisper in my ear. "I'll keep you safe... promise."

"I could I at least have a real weapon?" I request, laughing lightly. "If I'm going to be in real life threatening situation, I prefer to have a weapon that doesn't require me to be mere feet from my opposer!” 

Peter snickers, collecting items to change into. 

"I might as well kiss my life goodbye,” I add under my breath. 

"I got this katana as a gift from the Emperor of the Eastern Desert Lands," Edmund offers.

"What's that?" I've never heard of it before.

Ed removes the sword from its sheath with a whoosh as I cross the chamber to him. Its curved, thin, long, blade would be perfect. I graze my finger tips across the shining blade, in awe of it.

"I did research on it when we returned to our world. It's native to Japan, amongst the Samurai," he explains, placing the sleek black and gold handle in my hand.

"Hey! Hey!" Peter appears at my side in a blink. "Careful!"

"I got it! I got it! Don't get your knickers in a twist," I tease. I turn hold the sword up right to admire the blade closer.

"You could get hurt with that." Peter still worries.

"I could get hurt by someone attacking me too," I sass, lowering the weapon to address my friend. 

His eyes meet mine, filled with annoyance. He wants me to simply agree with him all the time. 

I smile, "wouldn't you prefer I have a sturdy way of defending myself?"  

"I think your words and wit would be enough to frighten them," he smirks.

"You charm me,” I blush. 

"Always do," he winks, taking the katana from me before someone gets hurt. "You can get it back when we leave. After that, I want it in its sheath unless absolutely necessary! I mean it, Y/N!"

I watch him slip the blade back into its leather casing cautiously. I place my hand over his to gain his attention. 

"You may be the King of Narnia, but you forget I'm not one of your subjects," I mock playfully.

"You're right," he agrees surprisingly. Gently, he picks up my hand and places a kiss to the back of it. Then, his features turns serious. "But while you're here your safety is my responsibility."

I roll my eyes, I hate how he patronizes me. One would think I'm one of his little sisters too with how protective he can get. Actually, he's less overbearing toward his siblings, even Lucy and she's significantly younger than me! With my luck something bad will happen, I will be away from Peter, and then what? I will be left with the dagger toy he gave me. As soon as I get that sword in my hands, I'm not giving it back. I'm just going to have to prove my capability to Peter.

___________________________________

Okay, so Edmund was right, some creatures don't like us! A black bear quite literally attacked Lucy! Fully charged at her and was going to eat her as a midday snack! That was until the DLF shot it with his arrow. DLF as in “Dear Little Friend.” His real name is Trumpkin, he’s the dwarf we saved from some Telmarines. Telmarines are apparently from another land in this world. They're human like us, but not friendly! I repeat not friendly!

Peter quickly grabs his little sister and pulls her to safety by me. I take her into my arms and comfort her as she cries. 

"I thought you said the animals could talk?!" I scream at Peter, rightfully distraught. 

"They can! I mean... they could..." Peter stammers, evidently just as lost as me.

“We... we just killed an innocent bear!” I stumble over my words. “We took an innocent animals life!”

“Innocent?! He was going to kill Lucy!” Edmund justifies it. 

“Y/N’s right!” Susan defends. “It clearly didn’t know any better!”  

“It was probably hungry!” Trumpkin shouts over all of us arguing. 

“Great! That makes me feel so much better!” I shout at the dwarf. 

"You've been away for a while... ” Trumpkin grumbles bitterly. 

He pulls his dagger and stabs the bear. I cover Lucy’s eyes so she doesn’t see the horrid sight. Peter notices me grimace and guides my face to hide in his chest. 

Was the stabbing really necessary?! It’s dead! 

“I think you'll find Narnia is a more savage place than you remember,” Trumpkin adds. 

"Oh lovely!" I sarcastically remark. "Looking forward to it!"

"Just stay close to me," Peter instructs, keeping one arm around me and the other around Lucy. 

"Don't have to ask me twice," I mutter, utterly afraid. 

Narnia is supposed to be this fairytale lovely land! There are pixies and stuff here! Where are the dancing trees?! Where are the people made of flowers?! I envisioned Neverland and I got a fence-less zoo! 

_______________________

Tags:  @hyperactiveravenclaw @rangergranger11​ @blackbirddaredevil23​

Masterlist

[fandomspov]

JELLY SLUGS ꒱ george weasley

❝SUMMARY❞ you always liked george and when he finally noticed you he decided to pull a prank like he always does

❝WARNINGS❞  gryffindor!reader ; swearing

   BEING THE quiet gryffindor girl in hogwarts meant you had to deal with draco most of the time, he would always make fun of how quiet and shy you are, he would trip you in the hallways, smash papers out of your hand and make up rumors about you. even though almost no one liked you because of draco; neville, luna and dean were always on your side. they are your best friends and so they introduced you to the golden trio, the boys liked you but hermione didn’t at first then 4th year came around and she decided to give you a chance. harry admitted on having a small crush on you but you didn’t feel the same, you always fancied the one and only prankster of hogwarts, george weasley.

   however, the twins didn’t really acknowledge you until their 7th year, when they were seated on their separate compartments since they were older and didn’t stick around with their younger siblings. you were looking for your friends, luggage in hand, walking down the corridor of the train. 

   you heard whispers and small giggles behind you but you paid no mind because you were used to students making fun of you. suddenly a drink was spilled over your head. you gasped feeling the juice dripping down your hair and face “what the fuck!” 

   you turned around and saw an amused ginger look down at you with a grin on his face “y/n what happened-” hermione interrogated hearing you from down the hallway but cut herself off, she knew what happened “george fabian weasley what in the world were you thinking!” hermione expressed and smacked the back of his head “hey you can’t hit me i’m older than you” george exclaimed. hermione scoffed, you decided to speak up “well it doesn’t look like it”.

   george towered over you making you feel small compared to him, you looked up at him through your lashes, he let out a small chuckle and shook his head “ooo quiet y/n came out of her shell, be careful love you don’t want to make me mad”. you rolled your eyes with a loud huff “what are you going to do? hit me?” “no but i can make you regret you ever even looked at me” 

   “and how exactly are you going to do that?” you demanded already getting annoyed by him, but completely forgetting about the pumpkin juice in your hair. “i have my ways” georgie smirked. hermione fake coughed catching your guys’ attention “let’s go y/n” she grabbed your hand and dragged you to your compartment “what was that all about?” “let’s just forget that ever happened please..”

   “what do you want weasley?” you sighed, it's been a week since that incident happened on the train and he’s following you around whenever he sees you. “chill, just wanted to ask if u maybe want to go to hogsmade together?” you giggled, he was for sure pulling a prank on you again “yeah, sure” “i’m serious y/n, i know we didn’t have a perfect start so i decided that we could try again” to your shock he was serious this time, its true you didn’t have a good start and maybe the hogsmade trip could help and actually be friends. “well,ok then” “so are you coming?” “yes”

   after a few hours you ran up to your room to get ready for the trip, it was almost time to go and you were running late. “chill y/n its just hogsmade” ginny ginny giggled, her eyes following you around the room as you freak out over your outfit ”it's not just hogsmade gin its george”

   “what! you’re going with my brother?” ginny exclaimed in shock, you stopped in your tracks, worried about her reaction “yees?..look i’m sorry i didn’t tell you but it’s nothing like that i swear, we’re going as friends” she shook her head with a small giggle “come on y/n, everyone knows you and george are head over heels for each other” you dropped you pair of black jeans on the bed, a pink tint visible on your cheeks “it's not true” 

   “yes it is, why else would you be freaking out about it and why is george following you around, its obvious y/n” you shrugged going in front of the mirror to check your appearance “nothing will ever happen between me ang george, ginny” “if you say so” she mumbled picking up her coat “i’m going with harry, see ya!” you waved goodbye as she walked out the door. ‘george would never like me that way, he was just trying to be friendly, right?’ you thought

   “no i can pay for it, don’t worry” redhead offered, handing the money to mrs flume, he handed you the jelly slugs that you wanted “thanks” you exclaimed, getting on your toes and kissing his cheeks. a slight tint of red creeped up his cheeks “n-no problem” you giggled at his reaction and handed him some jelly slugs “no you don't have to-”  “i want to, plus it's your money” he smiled, soon his arm found its way around your shoulders making you blush.

   during the trip you noticed your friends give you winks and eyebrow raises by dean who is treating you like his sister so he’s kind of overprotective. george kept making jokes and tell you about embarrassing stories of his siblings. “no way he did that!” you laughed “yeah and then he ran to mom and told on me, dad high-fived me after that” george recalled. “i didn’t think of fred being a momma's boy, guess i was wrong” “he always was” he giggled. you let out a yawn,pulling your jacket closer to your body “we should head back its getting cold” you nodded as he pulled you closer into his side.

   arriving back in the gryffindor common room you were met with your guys’ friends sitting on couch, your laughter died down as you entered the common room “hi guys” you greeted “hi lovebirds”  fred smirked scanning the both of you “we have got to go now don't we guys?” hermione said making them nod their heads,they all left to their dorms after leaving you alone with george “thanks for today, it was fun” you stated, george nodded his head  “yeah we had lots of fun.” you chuckled “so i guess i’ll see you tomorrow?” you enquired “yeah for sure”  

   “well...goodnight then” george said, you kissed his cheek making him smile “night!” and walked away to your dormitory. george walked inside his own dorm and the boys jumped on him “so how did it go?” “did you kiss?” “was she a good kisser?” 

   when you walked in your dorm the girls looked pissed “what's wrong?” lavender groaned getting up from her seat “you kissed him on the cheek! you were supposed to make out,we didn’t leave yo alone for nothing!” you giggled “you watched us?” hermione nodded “yes and it was bad! next time try to actually kiss him” “ok ok i understand, you guys are crazy”

[everlarkficexchange]

Hanging in the Balance

Written by: @ameliaodair

Prompt #29:  I want to request a fic where Katniss and Peeta almost lose their first child and it makes their love and relationship even stronger.  [submitted by anonymous]

The prompt pretty much says it all.  On their way to visit Katniss’s mother, Katniss, Peeta, and their daughter fight for their lives.  When Peeta wakes from the devastating crash, his life— and Katniss’s are forever changed as their sweet, baby girl has the fight of her life, with her life hanging in the balance.

Thanks to the amazing @taylerwrites for her magical beta skills!

Rated T for difficult situations

Warnings: (almost) losing a child

Hanging in the Balance

“How long has it been since the last time we saw your mother?” Keeping his eyes focused on the road and his hands firmly gripped on the steering wheel, Peeta glanced over to Katniss, his beautiful wife of six years.

“I don’t know, maybe …  Actually, I think the last time we saw her was just after Prim was born; oh my god, I can’t believe it’s been that long.  Oh, Peeta, did you rem—” Katniss tensed up, thinking they had forgotten an important item on their checklist.

“Calm down, Katniss. Trust me,” Peeta gave his wife a charming, yet reassuring smile and reached for her hand. “I went over the list three times before we even left the house, and then once more after loading the car up.  We didn’t forget a single thing.  And if, by chance, there is something we forgot, I’m sure it can be duplicated at the nearest department store.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Katniss murmured, catching a glimpse of the back of their daughter’s head before slowly relaxing into the passenger seat next to her husband.

“In fact, I’m almost certain we brought enough stuff with us to stay for a year,” Peeta gently joked with his wife, in hopes of easing her nerves.  He knew the real reason for Katniss’s high-strung demeanor, and her incessant need to be in complete control.  She had lost her younger sister when she was just a little girl and it nearly broke her.  Peeta still wasn’t convinced she had recovered from that loss. 

Katniss and Peeta were childhood sweethearts.  While Peeta knew from the moment he entered his kindergarten classroom that he was destined to be with the beautiful girl with the stunning grey eyes,  raven-colored braids down either side of her face, and a voice that could bring a stuttering, toothpaste-stained shirt little boy to his knees, it took Katniss a little longer.  It required some convincing, but Peeta was persistent and finally, at seven-years-old, Katniss accepted his friendship-invitation.  And the lovesick fool that Peeta was decided he would take what he could get.  So, for years, they were friends— best friends. 

Peeta was there the day Katniss’s sister, Prim, died.  He had sat next to Katniss, gripping her hand like a lifeline while they stood vigil by Prim’s bedside, and watched as she took her final breaths.  And it broke him too, but not like Katniss.  She was devastated beyond belief— for so long.  And for so many years after that devastating tragedy, Katniss vowed to never have children … she could not bear to love another person with so much of her heart, only to have them ripped from her life.  They dated for five years before she finally agreed to marry him.  And then it was another four years before she agreed, and quite apprehensively, to try for a family.

“I think I’m going to get off at the next stop for some gas and we can stretch our legs.  It’ll be nighttime soon and I’d rather you guys not wander around in the dark in some backwoods city I don’t know.”

“You worry too much, Peeta,” Katniss chided, taking Peeta’s hand and entwining their fingers.  She brought their conjoined hands up to her lips and placed a kiss against the crest of his knuckles.  That’s why they were perfect together— because they balanced each other out.  When one was overcome with fear and anxiety, the other was always there to level the other one out.

Peeta got off at the next exit and followed the signs to the nearest gas station, which was less than a mile away.

“Don’t go to the Shell, go to SHEETZ,” Katniss pleaded with her husband when she saw the direction he was headed.

“Why?  Shell has better gas.”

“SHEETZ has cleaner bathrooms.  Please baby,” Katniss whined, knowing the use of the pet name, in addition to giving him the wide, puppy-dog-eyes would be enough to melt his hesitation.

“Okay,” he conceded, “Anything for my girls,” he gave Katniss’s hand another squeeze as he stopped at the four-way intersection and then gently accelerated on the gas when he saw the coast was clear.  Ever since their daughter, Prim was born, Peeta drove like an old man instead of a man in his late twenties— precious cargo and all.

“PEETA!!!!!” Katniss screamed when a set of headlights came barreling straight for them.

    “Mr. Mellark?  Mr. Mellark, can you hear me?” Peeta opened his eyes and tried to sit up.  “Mr. Mellark, how many fingers am I holding up?” The uniformed man asked him as he waved his fingers in front of his face and shined a flashlight into his eyes.

“Three.  Where’s my wife?  Where is Prim?” Peeta responded, shoving the medic’s hand out of his face as he attempted to sit up again.  “Where am I?” Peeta demanded, turning his head from side to side, surveying the small space he was in and called for his wife, “Katniss?” But she wasn’t anywhere in sight; as far as he could see, he was alone in the ambulance with these three strangers— medics.

“Sir, please calm down.  You were in an accident.  My name is Pollux and I am a paramedic.  You have sustained some rather severe injuries.  We are rushing you and your family to the nearest hospital.”

Adrenaline flooded Peeta’s veins, his heart accelerated until he was fuming, “WHERE is my wife and my daughter?  Where are they?  Are they okay? Please, you have to tell me,” he demanded, oblivious to the steadily increasing beeping in the background and needing some answers before his anxiety consumed him.

“They were air-lifted from the scene of the accident; we should be arriving at the hospital any moment now.  We’ll know more upon arrival,” Pollux offered sympathetically and craned his neck to his shoulder to speak into the microphone attached to his uniform, “Hey Castor, what’s our ETA?”

Peeta didn’t realize there was already an IV connected into his arm, or that the paramedic injected something into it, which was the reason everything went black.

2 days later:

“Well!  There are those marvelous blue eyes I have been hearing about!  Good morning Mr. Mellark, my name is Dr. Trinket.”

When Peeta opened his eyes, everything was fuzzy at first.  He blinked a few times until his vision slowly adjusted, and this Dr. Trinket came into view.  She was a beautiful doctor, there was no denying that.  Probably in her mid to late thirties with short, curly, blonde hair— so blonde it almost looked pink … and she was in the traditional hospital scrubs you normally see doctors wearing.  

  ‘Seriously, bright pink scrubs?’ Peeta thought, wondering if he could go blind just by looking at her for too long.

“Can you tell me your name and date of birth?” Dr. Trinket asked him, shining a light into his eyes.  “Good, good.  Pupils are equal and reactive.”

Peeta recited his name and birthday for Dr. Trinket, and she nodded, satisfied with his response.  “Do you know where you are?”  Dr. Trinket asked, checking his reflexes.

“Um … a hospital?” Peeta thought that seemed obvious.

“And do you recall the circumstances that brought you here?”

Peeta closed his eyes and tried to pull the memory from his mind, only to come up empty.

“Mr. Mellark, you were in an accident,” Dr. Trinket began filling in the blanks for him, “You suffered a slight concussion in addition to a hairline fracture to your femur.  After assessment upon your arrival to Tribute Center Regional Medical Facilities, you were rushed into surgery to repair your injuries.  You have a splint on your leg and should heal just fine.  I foresee a speedy recovery as long as you stay off your legs.  Do you have any questions for me?”

Flashes came sputtering back, hitting the back of  his eyelids like one of those slow, stop-motion picture films from Dr. Trinket’s words. “M-my w-wife and daughter—” Peeta croaked, his voice still dry and hoarse from days of not using it.

“Nurse, nurse, can we please get Mr. Mellark some form of oral hydration to quench his thirst?” Dr. Trinket pressed the call button on the remote by his bed and spoke into the intercom, “I bet you are just parched, aren’t you Mr. Mellark?” As upbeat and gregarious as the lovely Dr. Trinket appeared to be, he was not fooled by her deflection.

Before he had the opportunity to ask about his family again, a woman with kind eyes entered the room, carrying a styrofoam pitcher of water, a small tower of cups, and a handful of straws.  She poured Peeta a cup of water and offered it to him.

“Thank you,” Peeta smiled at the woman, who returned his smile, and then disappeared from the room just as quickly as she entered.

Peeta took a long sip of water through the straw and wasn’t sure anything had ever tasted so good in his life.  But then he met Dr. Trinket’s eyes and asked the question that was looming over them once again, “My wife?  My daughter?  K-Katniss and Primrose Mellark?”

Dr. Trinket’s face fell, and then she looked at him with so much pity, which only compelled Peeta to immediately jump to conclusions.

“No, no, they can’t be!” He cried, covering his face with his hands.

“Oh, no!  No, no, my apologies Mr. Mellark.  Your wife currently rests in a medically induced coma.  She had some minor swelling on her brain, so the doctors felt it was necessary to allow her body adequate time to heal.  She should be waking at any moment and her prognosis is optimistic!”

Peeta took another sip of water and braced himself for what came next, “And P-Primrose, m-my daughter?” Peeta faltered, afraid of her response.  She was barely two years old; if he and Katniss were injured this badly, what happened to her?  She was so tiny, she was—

“Your daughter’s—”

“Prim,” Peeta insisted.  If his daughter’s condition was as critical as he feared, he would not allow the staff in this hospital to treat her as another ‘number’.  He’d heard of horror stories and patients being neglected because of arrogant doctors.  No, they would call her by her name.

“My apologies; Prim is in the pediatric intensive care unit.  I do not know much about her case, but your daughter’s doctor will stop by shortly with an update on her status.  I shall page him now to inform him that you are finally conscious.  His name is Dr. Abernathy.”

“Okay,” Peeta nodded.

“I must warn you Mr. Mellark, Dr. Abernathy may come off a bit abrasive, his bedside manner needs much work, but—"

“Is he good?  Will he save my baby?” Peeta implored; he could care less about the doctor’s bedside manner, all he cared about was if the man was good at his job.  All he cared about was if he could save his baby girl.

“I may be a bit bias … but yes.  He is the best.  It is a fact that he is a world-renowned critical care pediatric surgeon.  You will not find a more qualified physician in all of Panem.”

“O-okay, that’s good,” Peeta stuttered, feeling more optimistic as Dr. Trinket walked toward the door.

  “Um … Dr. Trinket, if you don’t mind me asking, but why are you biased towards this doctor?”

“He is my husband,” Dr. Trinket answered proudly. “Oh, and please call me Effie, ‘Doctor Trinket’ is my mother … and besides, it makes me sound so old!”

  “Mr. Mellark, I’m Haymitch,” a man with scruffy blonde hair covering his eyes strutted into the room.  He had a white coat just like the other doctors Peeta had seen cruising the hallways, but this man looked far from any doctor he had ever met.  Sure, he had the arrogance the other doctors seemed to have in spades, but he did not share the chiseled and clean-shaven faces he had witnessed on some of the other medical staff.  He looked up, and above the breast pocket of this man’s jacket, the name, Dr. H. Abernathy, was inscribed in elegant script onto his coat.

So, this was Dr. Abernathy, Peeta thought.  “It’s— it’s Peeta.  Y-you have news about my daughter?”

“Yes, Primrose Ellis Mellark, twenty-six-month female,” Haymitch began, flipping through his notes.  Then he dragged a chair across the room, its legs scraping against the floor, finally planting it next to Peeta’s bed before he took a seat in it— backwards.  Dr. Abernathy— Haymitch put his notes away and crossed his arms over the back of the chair to look Peeta in the eye.

Yes, this was unlike any doctor I’ve ever come across before, Peeta thought to himself, but not necessarily in a bad way.

“Mr. Mellark, Peeta, I ain’t gonna lie to ya, yer little girl is in pretty bad shape.  Thankfully, she was properly strapped in the car seat, and rear-facing at that— which is what will probably save her life.  Most parents don’t follow the PAP guidelines—”

  “I’m sorry, what is PAP?”

  “Oh, my bad— I mean … sorry.  It’s the Panem Academy of Pediatrics— you know, the guidelines— uh, the riff-raff of all the do’s and don'ts pertaining to childcare and whatnot.  Anyhow, most parents turn their kids around before it’s time so they can see them … but uh— yeah— she’s beat up pretty bad, we’ve removed all the shards of glass from her skin and stitched up all the residual lacerations.” Peeta cringed at the doctor’s extensive description of his daughter.  “She suffered some internal damage to her organs—”

“When c-can I see her?” Peeta stammered, interrupting the doctor and fighting back tears that were threatening to spill over.

“Soon.  I’ll have someone page your nurse once she’s stabilized, and then we’ll get someone to bring ya up there.  Ya got any other questions?” Haymitch asked Peeta, squirming to get out of the chair.

“Has … has anyone told Katniss— my wife?”  Peeta warily asked the doctor.  Part of him was hoping that Haymitch had already told her, while deep inside he knew it had to be him to deliver this crushing blow.

“No, not yet.  I have to round on a few patients and then I’ll be stoppin’ by her room.”

Peeta gulped, “Would it—”

“Sure kid, it’s all yours.  It’ll save me the trouble of havin’ to do it,“ Haymitch gruffed.

Geez, Dr. Trinket wasn’t kidding about his bedside manner, Peeta silently ruminated, all the while, wondering how in the world those two were married.

  “Katniss? Katniss, baby, can you hear me?” One of the nurses hunted down a wheelchair and rolled Peeta into Katniss’s room.  The sight of her broke his heart.  She was lying there, unconscious and connected to an assortment of tubes and wires.  As he sat by Katniss’s side, he found comfort in the steady beep, beep of her heart monitor, which he hoped was a good sign.  He reached for her hand, holding it in his own, and closed his eyes, silently willing her to wake up.

I … I can’t do this alone; please Katniss, please wake up, with a quivering lip, he silently pleaded to her.

“Shouldn’t she be awake by now?” Peeta looked up and asked the nurse.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Mellark, but it isn’t an exact science.  Patients can wake up anywhere between a few hours, to a few days once they’re weaned off the medication.”  Katniss’ nurse, Annie informed him with a sympathetic smile.

“It’s okay, I understand.” Although Peeta was frustrated, he knew it wasn’t Annie’s fault and forced a smile to his lips.

Peeta wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he first arrived in Katniss’s room.  He had already twice refused to return to his own room; he didn’t care about himself.  All they wanted him to do in his room was rest, and he was perfectly capable of doing that from the comfort of his wife’s room, if not better.  If he went back to his room all he would do is worry; at least in Katniss’s room, which was just across the hall, he could attempt getting a little rest.

“Mr. Mellark?” Annie slowly crept into the room.  Peeta had fallen asleep in the chair next to Katniss’s bed, the cramp in his neck proof of the poor position he was in.

He jerked up when he heard Annie’s voice. “I know you don’t want to leave her side, but Doctor— I mean Haymitch just called and said we could bring you up to see your daughter.  Would you like to—”

Peeta jolted up from his chair, forgetting about the injury to his leg for a moment until the pain shot up his spine.

“Oh no, no, no, I will get your wheelchair and take you up there.  You wouldn’t make it to the elevators,” Annie smiled.

Annie rolled his wheelchair in from outside the room and wheeled Peeta to the PICU floor.

“So, does everyone call Dr. Abernathy by his first name?” Peeta tried to fill the uncomfortable silence with small talk.

Annie chuckled from behind him. “Yeah.  He and Dr. Trinket— Effie; they don’t like formalities.  They claim it helps eliminate the doctor/patient barrier; something about trust and bonding.” Peeta nodded and thought, ‘Yeah, I guess that makes sense.’

“Okay, I guess … I can see that.  Have you worked here long?  Do you know … is he a good doctor?” Peeta hoped he wasn’t being too intrusive, he just needed to know if Haymitch was as qualified to care for his daughter as Effie claimed.

“Haymitch?  Oh, yes … he’s the best.  If it were my son lying in a hospital bed— no matter where in the world I was, I would want Haymitch as his doctor.  Heck, I would gladly pay him whatever he wanted and have him flown to whatever corner of the world I was in.”

“Wow, that’s … impressive.  So, you have a son?”

“Yes, Nick is four years old,” Annie stopped and flipped her name badge over, stretching it out in front of Peeta’s line of sight to reveal a picture of a little boy with the greenest eyes, and wavy, sun kissed golden-blonde hair.

“He’s adorable … he’s going to be a heartbreaker when he’s older,” Peeta smiled, his heart aching to hold his own daughter.

“Thank you.  His name is Finnick— well, Finnick Junior, after his father, but we just call him Nick.  Oh, look!  We’re here!”

Annie wheeled him into the PICU and spoke with one of the nurses who helped him to the “Scrub Room.”  ‘Johanna’ first demonstrated the process of “scrubbing down,” which meant vigorously washing your hands with a medical scrub brush that contained a special, hospital-grade antiseptic soap.  When it was his turn, Peeta “scrubbed” for exactly three minutes while Johanna stood over him, observing with her stopwatch in hand throughout the entire process.  On the one hand, it made him feel self-conscious, but on the other hand, he was glad the staff was this precise.  Then she checked his temperature, because, under no circumstances was anyone permitted to enter the unit with a temperature above 100.3.  The last step was donning a sterile gown, gloves, and a facial mask before finally being allowed to see his daughter.

  “So, if someone leaves and comes right back just a few minutes later, they have to do this all over again?” Peeta asked Johanna.

  “Every single time—no exceptions.  Hospital policy—or, well, Haymitch’s policy,” Johanna chuckled.

Prim looked so tiny in the incubator she was lying in, it reminded him of the ones you see premature babies in.  It brought back memories of the day Katniss gave birth to their daughter, Peeta, silently thanking the heavens that his and Katniss’s newborn baby was full-term and healthy.  He just hoped luck was on their side this time, too.

Peeta’s entire body quivered with trepidation when his eyes landed on his daughter.  Prim was covered in stitches— they stretched across her entire body; on her arms, legs, her chest, and covered a majority of her face and head.  It looked like they even had to shave a portion of her hair to place some of the stitches.  She had IVs inserted in both her arms, a tube down her throat, and a tiny nasal cannula blowing oxygen into her nostrils.  Peeta’s eyes began to sting from the sight of his beautiful Primrose, and the closer he inched toward her, the harder his eyes stung.  Until finally, the dam broke, and the tears began pouring from his eyes, followed by uncontrollable sobs escaping his entire body.

“Oh, Primmie baby, I am so sorry.  Daddy is so sorry; do you hear me?” Peeta cried to his little girl.

“Is she … will she make it?  Do you think— can she— will she survive this?” Peeta looked up, meeting the nurse’s eyes, and wiping his face with the back of his sleeve.

“I honestly cannot give you a definitive answer Mr. Mellark.  These little ones tend to have a mind of their own.  Right now, it’s kind of touch and go.  I would say that if she makes it through the night, then she’s got a standing chance.  But I’m going to tell you something, I’ve seen babies much worse than your daughter bounce right back, but— on the flip side, I’ve seen others with barely any injuries—” Her words trailed off, hesitant to complete her sentence, but Peeta knew what she meant.

They didn’t make it.  Peeta sucked in a breath, mustering all the courage he had to be strong for his daughter.  What would he do if Prim di— if she … he couldn’t even think the word without his chest feeling as if thousand-pound bricks were smothering him.

“Why is that? What makes the difference?” He forced the words out.  If Prim was to survive this, he needed to know.

“I think … Now, this is just my opinion, but I truly believe it depends on how hard they’re willing to fight.  Their will, their drive to live.  Right now, I would say, and perhaps this does nothing to ease your mind, but … hope and pray.  As a veteran PICU nurse, I truly believe in the power of prayer.  Talk to your daughter and let her know that you are waiting for her; that you are counting on her to survive this.” Peeta nodded, understanding what the nurse meant.  “Give that beautiful little girl something to fight for,” Prim’s nurse finished with a kind smile.

“What was your name again?  I’m sorry, I didn’t catch it, and how long will you be Prim’s nurse?”

“My name is Portia Rose, and I’ll be here all night,” the kind nurse replied, with an equally as kind smile.  Peeta wondered if it was fate that brought them together.  His daughter, named after Katniss’s lost sister, and this ‘Portia Rose,’ their names having an uncanny similarity.

  “Peeta, Peeta what happened?” Katniss croaked, knowing something was wrong the moment her eyes opened and her husband’s tear-streaked face came into focus.

“Katniss, there was an accident.  What is the last thing you remember?”

“I remember, we were going to the gas station … you wanted to stop before it got dark.  We … we were on our way to see Mom … and then … and then … Peeta, what happened?  Where is Prim?” Katniss asked, pushing herself up with her hands to straighten her position in the bed.

Water pooled in Peeta’s eyes and he bit down on the inside of his cheek to stop the flow of tears.  He had to be strong for Katniss, he couldn’t show weakness, not yet.  Not now. 

  Peeta poured Katniss a cup of water and handed it to her. “Here sweetie, I bet you’re thirsty.”

Katniss took the cup and pulled the water into her mouth, “Peeta, you’re scaring me.  W-what happened?”

“Katniss, we were in an accident; w-we were hit head-on by a drunk driver.”

Katniss felt the heat spread through her face, and then slowly, it radiated to the tips of her fingers and toes.  “And Prim?” She asked hesitantly, suddenly feeling nauseous and dizzy.

“She’s okay for right now.  The doctors are taking really good care of her.”

“Okay, that’s good.  That’s really good,” Katniss smiled.  Peeta could see the tears welling up in her eyes and knew she was biting down on the inside of her cheek to quell her tears as she nodded.  He instantly knew that something wasn’t right; this was the opposite of how Katniss should have reacted.  His Katniss would be screaming, throwing a fit— demanding to get out of the hospital bed, adamant to see her daughter.  But this was more like … like denial.  He saw this once before … when her father died.  Granted, that was years and years ago when they were barely teenagers.

Peeta observed Katniss for a few hours, occasionally leaving to check on his daughter.  He knew the staff in the PICU were taking exceptional care of his daughter, and something told him his wife needed him more.  After his most recent visit to Prim in the PICU, he made sure that Portia knew how to reach him in case … in case she needed him.

When Katniss was given “out of bed” privileges, she walked around the room, cheerful and full of smiles as she chatted jubilantly with her mother on the phone.  She acted as if their daughter’s life wasn’t hanging in the balance just a few floors above them.

“Mom’s on her way Peeta, she should be here tomorrow,” Katniss informed Peeta after placing her phone on the bedside table.

Concerned for his wife’s emotional stability, Peeta spoke with one of Katniss’ nurses to find out when he could take her to their daughter.

“I don’t see why it should be a problem, she does seem to be basking in the river of ‘De Nile’,” Dr. Cinna noted, trying to lighten the mood.  “Perhaps seeing Primrose with her own eyes will open her mind to the truth,” Peeta smiled, shaking Dr. Cinna’s hand; he was the first one to refer to their daughter by her name unprompted, and Prim wasn’t even his patient.  It was at this time that Peeta decided that he liked Dr. Cinna— that he was perhaps his favorite doctor as of yet.  Dr. Cinna provided Peeta with a wheelchair for Katniss, after first making sure Peeta’s legs were strong enough to haul her to the elevator.

“Come on Katniss, let’s go see our girl,” Peeta suggested, rolling the wheelchair up to Katniss’ bedside.

“Okay, sure.  Mom’s on her way Peeta, she should be here tomorrow.”

“That’s good Katniss, I’m glad,” Peeta tried to feign enthusiasm.  He frowned, wondering if she realized she just told him this only minutes ago.

Peeta wheeled his wife to the elevators and then pushed the “12” button that would deliver them to the PICU unit.  He followed the arrows and pressed the button on the intercom, waiting patiently for someone to answer them.  Johanna immediately recognized him, and took them through the same procedure from earlier of scrubbing down, a temperature check, and donning the sterile gown, gloves, and mask before Johanna led them to their daughter.

“Peeta, what— what are we doing here?  I thought you were taking me to Prim?” Katniss asked, all traces of joy disintegrating as she was wheeled to Prim’s bedside.

“Katniss, honey— this is—”

“Oh, baby!  Prim, baby, oh my God, what, how—” Katniss’ eyes filled with tears as she craned her neck up to meet Peeta’s eyes.

“No, no.  NO!” Katniss screamed, standing up from her wheelchair, glaring daggers at Peeta.  “NO, this is NOT happening!”  Katniss shrieked, bolting from the room.  Peeta did not follow her, he knew she needed time.  The wheelchair was only precautionary, Katniss’s main injury was the concussion, which had healed during her medically induced coma.

He pulled a chair up to his daughter’s bedside, stuck his gloved hand inside the isolette and began to stroke her tiny hand.  He needed her to know he was here for her and he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Oh, my sweet, sweet baby girl.  My beautiful, beautiful, Primrose; Mommy, and Daddy are here for you and we’re not going anywhere, do you hear me?  Mommy is just scared right now, and she will be back really soon.  Oh, Primmie— we love you so, so much and we need you to get better.  Oh, Prim; I know you probably don’t know this, or understand it, but you are the light of our lives.  You have to get better, okay?  Please fight, Primrose; you have to fight.  I don’t think Mommy would survive if we lost you, I don’t know if I would survive.  I know that’s a lot of pressure to put on such a little girl, but … but—” Peeta closed his eyes, held his head down, and did something he hadn’t done since he was a boy. 

He prayed.

“If there is anyone out there who can hear me, anyone at all, I—” Peeta began, pleading with the powers that be as he sniffled, wiping his eyes with his free arm.  “Please save my girl, she is my world, my everything.  And— and my wife— Katniss needs her Primrose.  I’ll do anything; if it’s a life you want— or need, take mine instead.  Prim is just a baby; she hasn’t had time to live yet.  She still needs her first day in kindergarten, her first best friend—a first boyfriend and a first heartbreak.  I’ve lived, I’ve had all those things and more.  I’ve lived a happy life, but please, just please, don’t take my girl.”

“Prim …” Peeta began after a moment, hoping to reach out to the sister Katniss lost so many years ago, “if you’re out there, and you can hear me, please … please look over our girl.  Please, don’t … you can’t take her, it’s not her time,” Peeta sniffed again, his head perking up from the sound of footsteps behind him.

“Mr. Mellark?” It was Dr. Abernathy— Haymitch, looking no worse for the wear.

“Hi, Dr. Aber—”

“Haymitch.  Call me Haymitch.”

Peeta nodded and met the man’s eyes, “Peeta.”

“Peeta, we’ve done everything we can for your girl, now it’s up to her.”

“What does that mean?” Peeta asked with a befuddled raise of his brow.

“It means that medically speaking, there is nothing more I can do for your girl.  Now, it’s up to her, whether or not she’s willing to fight.  If she gains consciousness before the night’s over, I am optimistic that, in time, she’ll make a full recovery.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Peeta asked, trembling with fear as he awaited the doctor’s answer.

“Then it’s not likely she’ll wake up at all, and then … we’ll discuss extraordinary measures.  But let’s not cross that bridge until we get to it.  In my experience, kids will fight to live if they have somethin’ ta fight for.”

“Thank you, Dr.— Haymitch.  I … I need to find my wife— what are visiting hours?”

“I’ve cleared it with the nurses; you and your wife can stay as long as you want.”

“Thank you,” Peeta smiled and shook Haymitch’s hand, eager to find Katniss.  As he made his exit from the PICU, he noticed Haymitch taking the seat next to his daughter and cleared his throat.  Peeta slowed his pace, straining to hear what the doc had to say.

Haymitch cleared  his throat once more and began to speak in a soft and gentle voice that  Peeta almost didn’t recognize from the hardened doctor.  But it was— without a doubt, him.  “Listen, sweetheart, I know you don’t know me and all, but my name’s Haymitch and I’m your doctor.  I know you’re little and all and you probably don’t understand how the world works, so, I’m gonna tell ya.  You see, doctors give orders and patients are s’pposed ta listen.  I’m the doctor, you’re the patient, got it?  Alright, well now that that’s settled, I’m ordering you to stay alive, alright kid?  That’s all you gotta do; stay alive.  I’ll do the rest.”

With that, Peeta went on a quest for his wife, knowing his daughter was in good hands.

  After Peeta wheeled Katniss to their daughter’s bed, it all hit Katniss like a ton of bricks.  That was her daughter lying in that miniature hospital bed.  Her Primrose.  She had already lost one Primrose; she wouldn’t survive losing another— she just wouldn’t.  Unable to face the truth, she ran from the room and took the elevators to the top floor.  Once she exited the elevator, she went to the nearest door, which led to a stairway.  She took the steps two at a time and passed through another door that opened up to the roof.

Katniss ran to the edge, leaning against the banister; not to jump, but just to look out into the sky.

For the first hour, she cried.  She cried and cried, trying her best to convince herself that wasn’t her Prim lying in that bed, but someone else’s baby.  It couldn’t be her daughter, it just couldn’t.  The universe couldn’t be that cruel, right?  But deep down, she knew it was.  And then, she was consumed with guilt—for wishing that fate upon someone else’s child.

During the following hour, she did something she hadn’t done since she was small, since her own parents forced her to do it.  She didn’t necessarily believe there wasn’t a God exactly, but she didn’t really believe there was one either.  But what if there was?  Would he still listen to her after all the years of silence?

Deciding it was worth the risk, on the off chance there was some kind of higher power out there, she begged, she pleaded for them to save her little girl.  And then, she resorted to begging, dropping to her knees as she bargained her life away.  She didn’t know that at the same exact time, her husband was doing precisely— the same exact thing.  She was on her knees sobbing when she heard the door whoosh open, her husband’s beautiful blue eyes piercing into her own grey ones.

“Katniss, are you okay?” Peeta asked her, worry glazing over him from the sight of her on her knees.

She wanted his comfort, needed it even.  But then, she was angry at him.  No, not angry, but furious, enraged.  This was all his fault, after all.

“Go away!” She shouted at him, seething with rage.

“Katniss, what?” Peeta shrunk back, hurt by her rejection.

“This is all your fault Peeta.  If you hadn’t— YOU’RE the one who wanted kids, not me.  If YOU hadn’t convinced me to have kids, this wouldn’t be happening.  We wouldn’t be losing her.” Katniss stood up and inched herself closer to Peeta, sending him a cold, icy, glare.

“You don’t mean that Katniss,” Peeta told her, holding his stance with pain-filled eyes.  He knew deep down that she was just hurt and needed to channel her frustrations elsewhere.  Lashing out at him was the easiest, and fastest way to achieve that goal.

The closer Katniss got to Peeta, the angrier she became.  The tears began streaming down her face until she could no longer hold back the uncontrollable sobs.  She began hitting and pounding her fist against his chest, she was so angry.  But Peeta didn’t budge.  He didn’t try and stop her, he just stood there, taking each hit and allowing her to use him as her own personal punching bag.  He knew it wasn’t actually him she was angry at, she just needed somewhere to divert her anger.

Peeta pulled Katniss into his arms and within seconds she ceased pounding his chest.  He held her, crying his own silent tears while Katniss sobbed in his arms.  Once the tears subsided, Katniss looked up to see the pained expression on her husband’s face, in addition to the tears streaking his cheeks and she felt … guilty.

“I’m sorry Peeta, I’m so sorry.  Oh, Peeta, I— I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said.”

“Shhh, sshhh.  I know, I know,” Peeta whispered into her ear, stroking circles against her back as he tried to comfort her.

“I can’t lose her Peeta, I— I won’t survive if I lose her.”

“I know Katniss, I know.  Me too.  But … but I won’t survive if I lose you.  So, let’s pull ourselves together, go to our baby girl and give her something to fight for,” Katniss sniffled and nodded her head.  Together, they walked back to the PICU to be with their daughter.

They re-entered the PICU and headed straight for Prim, only to see a swarm of nurses huddled in a circle; in what looked like them holding vigil at their daughter’s bedside.  One look on their faces and Katniss and Peeta knew something was wrong— devastatingly so.

“I’m so sorry Mr. and Mrs. Mellark, her vitals are steadily declining.  It won’t be much longer now; would you like to hold her before— before—”

“I … I wasted so much time,” Katniss cried, nodding as the tears streamed down her face.  One of the nurses pulled up a rocking chair for one of the parents to sit in.  Peeta was adamant that Katniss hold her first— just in case.

They opened the tiny incubator and placed Prim in Katniss’s arms, draping a blanket over them while another nurse made a call to Haymitch.

“Oh, baby girl, momma loves you so much.  Mommy and Daddy love you so, so much sweet girl.” Katniss hummed through her tears.  “You are so special Prim, so, so very special, my sweet, sweet girl.  You are so special and so loved and …” Katniss sobbed through her tears, placing kiss after kiss to her little girl’s forehead.  Peeta squatted next to Katniss and with one hand, he linked their fingers, and with the other hand, he stroked his little girl’s foot.  The floodgates were open— he didn’t think he could cry any harder until he heard Katniss’s beautiful voice singing the lullaby to their daughter.

Deep in the meadow, under the willow

A bed of grass, a soft green pillow

Lay down your head and close your eyes,

And when they open, the sun will rise;

Peeta’s heart plummeted in his chest as he heard Prim’s heart monitor “flat line.”  As difficult as it was with the splint on his leg, he inched closer to his wife and daughter as they both cried and overwhelmed Prim with kisses.  They showered her with as much love as they could muster, telling her how much they loved her.  They told her how special she was and how they would never forget her.  As badly as it hurt Peeta to say the words, he finally told his baby girl that it was okay for her to go.  The last thing he wanted in this world was for her to suffer.

The nurse reached up to silence the heart monitor when, suddenly, the steady beeping from the machine resumed all on its own.

“What the—” the nurse exclaimed just as Haymitch burst through the door.

“I thought you said code red?” Haymitch growled, seeing the normal heart rhythm on the monitor.

“She—she flatlined, and then— she just— came back,” Portia stuttered in complete bewilderment.

“Little slugger had something worth fighting for, what’d I tell ya?” Haymitch chuckled, looking at the teary-eyed parents.

One Year Later:

“Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you …”  Katniss and Peeta sat on either side of their daughter on her third birthday, slightly less than a year after the devastating car accident that nearly took her life. 

  “That is one happy little girl,” Effie looked up and smiled at her husband.  “Thanks to you,” she added in a whisper.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Haymitch pretended like he didn’t care, but Effie knew—she always knew; he cared too much.

  “What did you wish for, sweet girl?” Katniss asked her daughter after she blew her candles out.

  “A baby brudder,” Prim said, her face smeared with chocolate frosting and a mouthful of chocolate cake.

  Simultaneously, Katniss and Peeta’s eyes locked and Katniss inadvertently reached up to palm her belly.

  “Should we?” Katniss mouthed to her husband who gave her a slight nod.

  “You’re going to be a big sister Prim, but not for a few more months,” Peeta informed their daughter, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  “Yay!  I like wishes, Mommy!” Prim squealed, wrapping her tiny arms around her mother’s neck.

[spider-pxrkers]

you’re worth more || popular!peter parker x female reader

summary: you and peter used to be best friends before he re-brandished himself into someone more popular and forgot about you. a few years later, he comes to you with an unusual favour.

a/n: this was an entry for @quackeroos writing challenge under the “fake dating” prompt. if you’d like, go check it out:)

warnings: fake dating trope, angst, fluff, swearing, peter needing a hug:3

masterlist  ||  add yourself to my taglist!

i do not own any gifs used. all credits go to the original creator

“I don’t get it, what is it you want from me?”

The moment you tried you recalling the last conversation you had with the boy before you, you felt yourself get flung back into a memory in middle school, where a younger you and a rather scrawny, smaller boy sat huddled next to each other within the crook of his bunk bed, under a hurdle of blankets with a bowl of chips between the two of you. You both had your gazes fixed onto the bright screen of the laptop before you. Some silly science film Peter always talked about played all because he’d won the coin flip deciding who’d pick the movie that night. That night was the last time you remembered hanging out with him, the last night you and Peter Parker were actually friends.

“I want you,” as he spoke up from opposite you, snapping you back to reality, your eyes finding him leaning in much closer than he was a few moments ago. “To be my girlfriend for a couple months.” His tone was nonchalant as he spoke, his voiced laced with relaxed confidence, as if he knew he was going to leave the conversation getting what he wanted. “Or pretend to, at least.”

You narrowed your eyes at the boy before you. The Peter in front of you was definitely not the same boy you knew years ago. His arms lay on the cafeteria table in front of you, his fingers resting intertwined with one another has his chest rested slightly above, leaning in as if he was telling you some forbidden secret. His hair was lightly gelled and his eyes were the same brown shade, yet with something unfamiliar resting within them.

Peter Parker had grown from the shy nerd he used to be, no longer dawning T-shirts with silly puns on them but instead draped in leather and fitted shirts. He was pushed around constantly in middle school, picked on for every little thing he’d do before he decided to change it all and change who he was. He was mocked, pushed around and more or less tortured by the very people he now calls his friends.

It was the summer after ninth grade when he returned to school. He was taller, toned and more attractive than ever with a completely new wardrobe and contacts instead of his usual thick, round glasses. He abandoned you and Ned Leeds, moving on to a completely new clique. A few years went by and now, he’s one of the most popular kids in school. So, why did he want you to be his girlfriend?

You leaned back a little bit, leaving the once close proximity of his face to yours. “You want me to be your girlfriend?” You let out a laugh laced with satire. “And what? Lean on your arm for a couple weeks until you find yourself another girl to fuck?”

You expected him to be offended but all your words did was trigger a smirk hidden behind a smile. “It won’t be like that. The guys,” you glanced behind him at the table he was at before he had come up to talk to you, full of jocks who tried their best to look like they weren’t looking at your conversation unfold. You rolled your eyes at them before focusing your attention back to Peter. “Made a bet with me. They want to see how long it’ll take for me to, you know..” He spoke calmly, looking at you expectedly, as if you were supposed to catch on.

Unfortunately, you did.

You tilted your head at him, folding your arms almost defensively as you furrowed your eyebrows. “Know what, Parker?”

“Come on, Y/N. They want to see how long I could a keep a girl like you for.”

Your raised an eyebrow, “A girl like me?”

His smile disappeared as he sighed. “You know what I mean.”

“I really don’t.”

Silence lingered over the two of you and Peter leaned back.

This was going to be a lot harder than he thought.   

It was no surprise you weren’t as known in the school as most others. Truth was, most of the kids in Midtown annoyed you. You preferred staying under the radar, having a few close friends rather than a ship full of them.

You stared at him, hardly recognizing the boy who once belonged to your friend group. After a few more moments, you gave in to the silence. “You expect me to go along with this?”

“I didn’t have to tell you about the bet alright?” He said to you. “But I found it, in the goodness of my heart,” he placed a hand over the left side of his chest, earning an amused look from you. “To tell you instead of screwing you over. I thought maybe we could work out a deal.”

You nodded slowly, catching on. “What do you get out of this?”

His eyes looked up to meet yours, a ghost of a smile making its way back onto his face as he shrugged. “Five-hundred a month.”

Your jaw dropped, “Five hundred?” All he did was nod. Your eyes shot back to the jocks table as your eyes landed on the “leader”, Martin. You studied him as you recalled your friends tell you his dad was some owner of a big oil company. You figured he was the type of guy who’d push his money wherever he wanted, but never would you have thought him to be this low. But why on earth were you worth five hundred a month? “Why would a guy like you need that much cash, Parker?” You always thought he was as well off as the other guys, he was popular and brandished himself such anyway.

His eyes faltered for a bit at your question, his eye twitching as he looked you over. It was as if a mask slipped off his face for a split second, revealing a look of doubt before it withered and the mask came crawling back on. “I need to get a couple things done.” he said simply.

“Uh-huh,” you decide not to push it. “And what do I get out of all of this?”

His eyes glistened with mirth. “Twenty percent?”

“Thirty.” You shot back.

“Twenty.” He leaned back onto the table, eyes challenging you. But you wouldn’t back down. If you were going to take part in this stupid act, might as well get something out of it.

“Twenty-five.”

The air grew tense as you stared down into his eyes which were locked directly onto yours. You swore you saw the corner of his mouth tug upwards as he spoke, “No one can know you know about this Y/N.”

All you did was smile as you reached out to grab the apple in front of you before taking a bite. “Know about what?”

“This is, by far, the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”

You and MJ were sat in the bedroom of your apartment afterschool, you at your desk chair while she lay on her back on your bed, her hands folded behind her head accompanied by a blatant look of judgment etched onto her face. You told her about your and Peter’s arrangement, despite him telling you not to, the moment after it happened; an arrangement which she heavily did not approve of. She never liked the popular crowd in school, she was convinced they were all spoilt and shallow.

Some of them were.

“Come on MJ,” you’d been trying to make her see your point of view the entire day. But if there’s one thing your best friend was, it was stubborn. “The money isn’t a lot yeah but you know I need to start saving for college and-”

MJ shot up from her position, a humorless laugh escaping her. “Oh please,” her laughter continued, even louder confusing you as you stared at her.

You fought the smile appearing as your watched your friend’s outbreak, despite your puzzlement. “Why are you laughing?”

She wiped a tear from eye as her laughter resided, standing up to tower over your position on the chair, her grin still wide. “Don’t pretend you’re in this for the money.”

“What do you mean-”

“You’re doing this because by the end of it, you’re hoping you’ll fish out the ‘real’ Peter Parker from somewhere.” You titled your head at her, trying to grasp the point she was trying to make. She leaned in closer to you, her face inches from yours as she spoke lowly, “You know, the guy you had the biggest crush on in eight grade?”

You scoffed at her expression, “I did not-“you paused mid-sentence as you stared at MJ’s expected look on her face. “Alright, maybe.”

Her grin widened even more, “Ha! I knew it!” She pumped her fists in the air while you shook your head as she did a mini celebration dance.

“But that’s not why I agreed to this.” You stated.

“Sure it isn’t.” She looked over at you, her chuckles seizing as she gave you a look of sympathy. “You know if you do this, you can’t expect anything from him after?” You furrowed your eyebrows at her. “He doesn’t feel the same about you Y/N, the two of you haven’t spoken since middle school. And he’s not that same kid anymore. ” MJ walked over to you and crouched in front of your sitting frame. “You can’t change him back into that kid. This is only going to end with you getting hurt.”

You slowly shook as you looked at her. She was right. Peter wasn’t the same kid he was years ago. He usually sat in large groups with the jocks at the back of every class, laughing at their lame jokes and taking part in their stupid ideas of fun. He looked different, dressed different, talked different, and as you thought over your arrangement, a quick flash of doubt entered your head.

But when your eyes peered behind MJ at the picture of you and Peter in ninth grade on your bedside table, posing with Ned Leeds in front your group’s first place science project with peace signs and wide smiles, you figured the nerdy kid you’d been in love with since you were thirteen was still in there, somewhere.

You were free during fourth period, and you chose to spend that time alone in the gymnasium. You didn’t know the other kids you were free with, and preferred the time alone anyway. On most days you’d sit on the bleachers and catch up on homework or a late project. Today however, you had your headphones plugged in, a song by your favorite artist playing. You sat with your eyes closed, content, for a few moments before being interrupted by feeling someone place their hand on top of yours. Your eyes shot open as you drew your hand back quickly, looking to your left to see Peter Parker sitting. An expression you couldn’t recognize rested on his face as you saw his hand next to yours. “What were you just doing?”

“Holding your hand?” he said expectedly. “You know, the thing people who are ‘in love’ do.” He positioned his body to instead straddle the bleacher seat, his front facing your side, separated by your book bag.

You scoffed, removing your eyes from his gaze, instead looking directly ahead of you at the empty gymnasium. “We are not in love.”

“Of course we aren’t,” he said. You glanced over at him, a bit of hurt panging in your chest before pushing it away. “But if we’re going to be telling everyone we’re dating, we might as well give them something to believe.” He spoke with a mischievous tone. You looked over at him. He was in his usual brown jacket, a smirk prominent on his face.

“Something like what, Parker?” you challenged.

He chuckled at you as he leaned in closer to you, his breath warm. “How about I show you?”

You laughed as you shifted to your side, trying to put a little distance between you and the boy next to you. “Alright, we need some rules if we’re going to do this.”

His lips turned into a pout, obviously taken aback by your pulling away, but he wasn’t going to show you that. He straightened his posture, clearing his throat. “What kind of rules?”

“Rules that,” you began. “Will entail boundaries, what we can do, what we can’t do.” This is my first experience with a relationship, so we-”

“Wait, wait, wait, hold up,” he let out, leaning back and holding his hand out in front of him. “You’ve never dated anyone before?”

You caught his eyes, feeling as if he was judging you. You felt a pinch of insecurity as he looked at you but ignored it. “Yeah, so?”

His eyes softened as his smirk turned into a light smile, it almost seemed genuine to you. “Nothing,” he said quietly. “Just didn’t think Y/N L/N never got around.”

“Oh right,” you grinned. “Just because I don’t throw myself at every girl with two eyes and a round-”

He laughed. “Alright, alright. I get your point, I’m not judging.”

The two of you sat together during your free period, creating a list of rules for your ‘relationship’. After the two of you were done, you sat back satisfied as you looked over the list you wrote. The first rule was at the top of the page, written by Peter:

No telling anyone the relationship isn’t real.

You chose not to admit to Peter that MJ already knew, it wasn’t like she’d tell anyone anyway.

After his rule you wrote,

No kissing in private or in public.

“That one’s stupid.” He’d said when you wrote it. “How are we supposed to sell a relationship if I can’t kiss you?”

“You’ll find other ways.” Was all you said, earning a smirk from him.

You came up with the third rule as well,

At least one movie night every week, with Y/N’s choice of movie.

Peter protested at the last part, but you wouldn’t budge. If there was anything that could maybe help Peter get back to his regular self, it was a binge of the silly sci-fi movies he loved.

The last rule was mutually chosen between the two of you and in his writing was scribbled,

After the relationship has ended and both Peter and Y/N are paid, the two would never bring up the relationship again.

Peter didn’t really care about the rule, all this relationship was to him was a way to earn money. You agreed to it too; you hoped to get the old Peter you knew back, not the one who threw himself at every girl he saw and picked on any kid smaller than him. If it couldn’t happen by the end of a few months, you didn’t want to be involved with him.

You neatly folded the paper and tucked it into your bag before you and Peter shook hands in agreement to this new relationship.

This was going to be fun.

 It’d been three weeks since you began on your relationship. You did what regular couples did, went on dates (making sure to post a lot of pictures online for everyone to see) and spending most of your school days connected at the hip. You got to know the new Peter a lot more, something you can’t say was easy. Most of the times you hung out were when he was with his friends. That meant seeing him laugh at obnoxious demeaning jokes, and making some of them himself. They’d make fun of other students and you’d give him a pointed to look if he ever went too far, earning the vaguest shimmer of guilt before his regular smirk would settle back onto his face, and he’d delve more into the joke, earnings loud guffaws and bumps from his friends. Whenever they would make a joke about Ned, you’d shake your head and leave; that was a line you didn’t want to see Peter cross.

The next few weeks also consisted of you and Peter getting used to having each other in the other’s lives; to really sell the two of you ‘dating’, the two of you spent a lot more time together. In the beginning, Peter asked you to sit with him in classes the two of you shared. When he first asked you, you were hesitant and honestly reluctant. You were serious about your classes and the jock’s reputation screamed nothing but, ‘Distraction.’

Peter knew you’d be uncomfortable, he knew the moment he saw your face fall when one of his friend’s made some stupid joke about your ‘relationship’, as he pulled you to sit with him in the back row, despite your protests. You were quiet the entire class after that, even removing your hand from the grasp of his. And after the bell rang, you got up and left without saying a word. He wanted to go after you, but was stopped by his friends pulling him back and sending pats on his back and laughter in a deep mocking voices, a congratulations for going along with Martin’s bet. His face was hard, all he felt was guilt as his friends pulled him out of the class and out the doors of Midtown.

As you walked up the stairs of your apartment, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out, you swiped your lock screen to see a text from Peter.

‘Hey.

I’m sorry about today

It was stupid to make you do that.’

You shook your head, almost laughing at his text, before replying back with one of your own.

‘Didn’t know you were such a sap, Parker.’

You bit your lip nervously as you saw him typing back. You were about to tuck your phone back in when the screen lit up.

‘Ha ha very funny.

I need to talk to you about something, call me when you reach home.’

Your eyebrows narrowed while you read his message before running up the stairs and into your apartment. The moment you fell back onto the bed you dialed Peter’s number, pressing the phone to your ear.

“Hey, babe.” The word slid of his tongue so smoothly through the phone, it made you cringe.

“Please, don’t call me that when we’re not in public.” You mumbled as you perched the phone between your ear and shoulder, playing with your fingers.

“Alright, babe.”

You could hear his soft chuckle at your reaction as you cringed out loud once more. “What do you want, Parker?”

He didn’t answer for a bit, a silence lingering between the phone lines. When he spoke again, his voice was lower, almost gentle. “After you left today,” he began. “The guys asked about you, about us.”

You lent back into your pillows as you listened, “What about us?”

“They well- you know how they are.” Your face tightened as he spoke to you. He was silent for a little longer before sighing, giving in completely. “Martin says he won’t pay unless he has proof we...you know, slept together.”

Your eyes closed as you heard him, anxiety filling you. “What do you mean proof?”

“It doesn’t have to be like a video or anything,” Peter’s voice grew more and more soft, realizing how this must’ve sounded to you, how freaked out you’d be. “You could maybe just come over tonight maybe and-”

“And do what, Parker?” your tone was thick, you hated where this was going.

“Nothing, absolutely nothing.” He quickly reassured you. “We could just hang out, watch a movie or something. I’ll send him some stupid picture and nothing needs to happen.” You heard his breath hitch. “I promise.”

Silence filled you once again as you grew uncertain. This shouldn’t be weird, you’d had several sleepovers with Peter when you were younger, but you knew this would be different, even if nothing happened between the two of you.

The last few weeks played tricks with your mind. You were convinced you didn’t need to like Peter to keep up your fake relationship, but something inside you thought otherwise. As you hung out more and more, the pair of you grew more comfortable with one another.

You hated to admit MJ was right, but as the days went by, you felt your feelings from four years ago resurface. It was slow at first, it began when hesitant fingers crawling on the other’s turned into tender arms draped across the other’s shoulder. It grew as the two of you spent afternoons watching your favourite movies; you even decided to give his new love for crime movies a try. And after several mornings of grabbing coffee together before school, he eventually learned your order and would have it ready before you’d enter the coffee shop, making you realize this ‘relationship’ was going to get a lot more complicated, especially since you knew he didn’t feel the same. It’d be wrong for you to go to his place, to spend the night there, without him knowing how you felt. But you doubted he cared, he was Peter Parker for God’s sake, he could have any girl in New York with a snap of his fingers, why would he want you? Some girl from his past who he suddenly decided to talk to for five hundred bucks?

After a long time of saying nothing you took a deep breath. It would be wrong of you, but it wasn’t like anything between the two of you would happen anyway.

“I’ll be there by eight.”

Within the hours of four to eight, you began to get ready. After your shower, you called MJ -much to her distaste- to confer about the outfit you were going to wear which ended up turning into a two hour long rant session with your best friend about whatever. After, you pulled on your jeans and a crop top, before pulling it off and replacing it with a light blouse instead. You packed a separate bag with pyjamas and whatever else you needed. When you were ready, you headed out the door and left for the address Peter sent you.

You’d seen his apartment before. It was located close to where you stayed, a smaller apartment that most. As you climbed up the stairs and knocked on his door, you felt yourself grow excessively more nervous. You adjusted the bag’s strap on your shoulder before looking up to see Peter open the door.

His hair wasn’t gelled like it usually is, instead in light wet curls, you assumed he just stepped out of a shower. A plain white tee-shirt clung to him above worn blue jeans.

“You’re early.” Was all he said with a smirk as he stepped back to let you in.

Why did he always have to smirk?

You walked into the apartment and down a short corridor before entering the living room. You recognized a few decorations lying around, the frames on the walls and picture of his uncle Ben. It’d been so long since you’d been in the Parker residence, it almost felt the same from all those years ago. But as you looked around, you noticed no science fair trophies or class awards on the end table like there used to be. Instead, laid simple miscellaneous decorations. Gold medals no longer decorated the walls, Peter must have made his aunt remove all of it when he got to high school.

“So, what movie did you get?” Peter’s voice sounded behind you pulling you from your thoughts and as you turned around, you saw him leaning against the kitchen wall, his hands fidgeting.

He probably just wanted to get this night over with.

You bit your lip as you reached into your bag, pulling out a DVD disk. Here goes nothing. “I brought Star Wars,” you said quietly as you watched his face shoot up to meet yours. It was a movie he would make you watch all the time in middle school and judging by his reaction, he seemed to remember.

You expected him to get mad, his face was hard, expressionless. “Did you bring anything else?” he asked, pushing himself off the wall and making his way over to you.

“No,” you replied, still grasping the cover. He now stood directly in front of you, reaching his hand out to take the cover from your hands as he stared at it.

“I haven’t seen this in years.” You looked up to see Peter with a soft smile on his face as he flipped over the cover, viewing the back. He looked up at you, his eyes meeting yours as a smile found your face.

“Didn’t think you’d still like it.” You mumbled as you realized how close the both of you actually were. There was something in eyes you couldn’t point out, they were softer, almost more vulnerable than any thing you’d seen of him in school. It was as if all his walls were down.

The hand of his that wasn’t holding the case lightly made its way to your arm, grazing it. Your faces were inches apart. His gaze was below your eyes, at your lips as he stepped even closer. “You don’t know what I like.” He whispered.

The two of you leaned in close to each other, forgetting the rules you made, almost in contact until the sound of a door clicking made you jump away from him, landing on the couch.

“Peter! I left some leftovers on the stove,” the sound of May calling out while she entered the room rang through the apartment, as you and Peter straightened yourselves and you stood up. “Just put it on medium in the microwave for a bit and it should get-“she turned around to see her nephew standing by the couch and you next to him, playing with your fingers. “- done.”

There was an awkward silence among the three of you as May stared at the two of you, tilting her head to the side as she tried to grasp what was going on. “May,” Peter spoke up, breaking the silence. “You remember Y/N, right?” He snaked an arm around your shoulder as he pulled you closer to his side.

You gulped as she kept staring at you. “Hey Ma- Mrs. Parker.” You gulped, waving at her.

It was quiet for a bit longer as her eyes darted between the both of you, a warm expression finding her face. “Y/N, I haven’t seen you since,” she said softly, a smile appearing as she shook her head slowly. “I can’t remember.”

You felt almost remorseful as you watched May’s expression shift. She was heartbroken when you and Peter fell out, you remember Ned telling you countless times that she’d scold Peter for letting go of you.

“Yeah, we got in touch recently and,” Peter said he went to grab your hand pulling it up. “This happened.” He lied smoothly as you smiled at her.

You swore you saw her smile falter a bit, “Oh.” Was all she said as she put her keys in her purse and looked at her nephew before her gaze landed back on you again. “Well, I’d love to catch up, Y/N, but I have to get to work.”

“It’s not a problem Mrs. Parker.” You said as she walked to open the front door.

“Dear, you can still call me May.” She laughed before stepping out. “Have fun you two.”

After she shut the front door behind her, you moved your hand out of Peter’s grasp, stepping back from him. “So,” you said to him while he avoided your eyes, making his way to the kitchen. “Does your aunt not like when you bring girls here, Parker?”

He laughed quietly, pulling out a few ingredients out of cabinets. “I don’t really have girls over here.”

An amused smile found your face as you moved to stand opposite the counter in front of him, completely forgetting about the interaction before May entered. “Oh really?”

He looked up to you grinning, before pulling a cook book out of a drawer. “Oh really. Only if they’re very special.” He winked at you before flipping through the pages, making your cheeks stain red.

“What are you doing?” you asked him, flustered at his actions, trying to change the subject.

“No offense to May’s pot pie but,” he began, eyes lighting up as he found the page he was looking for. “I’m really craving a good batch of cookies right now.”

You snickered at his childishness before moving to stand by him. “I’ll do it.”

He snorted without missing a beat, “Sure you will.”

You narrowed your eyebrows, smacking his arm. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What it’s supposed to mean is,” he tilted his head to look at you. “The last time you tried baking, we almost burnt your kitchen down.”

“That,” you defended. “Was five years ago. I’ve grown since then.”

  So the two of you got to work. As you created cookie batter, Peter played some music on his phone. He named himself ‘DJ’ for the night since anytime he tried helping you bake, you’d swat his hand away, muttering an ‘I got this.’

He watched you work, your eyes darting between the pages of the recipe to the ingredients around you. Your eyebrows were furrowed and your lips caught between your teeth as you worked and he’d laugh whenever you’d softly swaying to the music he played.

Why was he so entranced by you? Why did he feel like kissing you when you showed him a movie he’d last seen when he was fourteen? For every minute he spent with you he found himself with memories of things the two of you did when you were younger, when he hadn’t transform into a whole new person.

He could let his walls down around you, you knew the real him. A few weeks ago, you were just some girl he was holding onto for some money, it wasn’t supposed to go beyond that.

But now, he wanted nothing more than that.

“This tastes like ass.” You spit out the cookie onto your plate, gagging at it. You both sat opposite each other at the small dining table, eating the disaster of the desert you tried to make.

Peter chuckled as he took another bite. “Didn’t know you’d know what that tasted like, Y/N.” he teased.

You rolled your eyes at him before staring at him in disbelief as he bit into the cookie again. “You don’t have to pretend to like it Parker, I know it’s terrible. I failed as a chef.” You said, dramatically tossing the cookie back onto your plate and slumping back into your chair in defeat.

“No really,” he said before taking one last bite and dusting his hands out before forcing himself to reaching for another cookie. “It’s good.” He really didn’t like it; it was goopy and burnt, but he didn’t want you feeling worse.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, listening to the soft music he played.

“Why don’t you call me Peter anymore?”

You looked up at him, not expecting the question. “What do you mean?”

He placed the cookie back onto the plate before leaning in front, his arms resting on the table, his eyes looking directly into yours. “You call me Parker, all the time. It used to be Peter, I just wanted to know why.”

You contemplated your words as he looked at you. “I guess,” you spoke slowly. “I started hating you, after eight grade?” He nodded slowly at your words. The two of you never spoke about your falling out after it happened, the two of you never talked at all. “Not anymore of course, I just didn’t feel like calling you by your name. You weren’t exactly my favorite person after that.” You tried laughing a bit to diffuse the tension, but Peter didn’t seem that taken aback. “I mean, were best friends, Parker. And then one day you decided to throw that away without even telling me for, I don’t know, rep?”

A few more moments passed. You looked down at your lap. Should you have said that?

“You can still be happy, Peter.” You whispered, brushing a tear from his cheek. “You don’t need to sink to their level.”

“It wasn’t rep.” He said after a while. You thought he’d be angry, but his tone was soft and quiet, almost broken. “You know what it was like for me, Y/N.” he began. “They’d push me around every day. I’d come home with bruises on my face and I’d have to lie and tell May it was because I fell during gym. I couldn’t leave class a single day without being insulted or getting threatened. And then Ben died,” You looked at him when his voice cracked and you saw his hand shaking while he took a deep breath. “And I just couldn’t take it anymore, Y/N. I couldn’t.” You reached your hand out to his but he pulled his chair back and got up.

“I know I pushed you away, I know I did with Ned too. But, I- I hated my life. I hated waking up, I h-hated living.” You got up and went after him, standing opposite his shaking figure, gently lacing your hand with his, rubbing circles into his knuckles. “But after I did what I did, after I changed, they treated me like a god Y/N, I was finally happy for the first time in so,” You watched his face morph into a broken expression as his watering eyes stared into yours. “So long.”

“You didn’t know what it was like, Y/N.” he said, his hand moving up to clasp around yours on his face as he caught his breath. “I can’t go back to that.”

You found yourself leaning in front, until your forehead was pressed against his. “You don’t have to. But you don’t need to throw away who you really are either.” You realized you may never get the old Peter back, but you could sure as hell help this one.

Peter found himself leaning into your embrace for the second time that evening. His hand moved out of yours an instead encircled you waist, pulling you closer as his lips grazed over yours.

“What about the rules?” you whispered, your hand making its way into his hair.

“Fuck the rules.” He shook his head muttered before pressing his lips against yours. The two you stood pressed against each other for a few moments as his lips molded into yours. He tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss. You felt yourself slowly walking backwards until your back was pressed against the wall behind you. Your hands tangled themselves in his hair as his hands pulled you flush against him. Years of anger, confusion and longing to go back to what once was poured out of the two of you as you pulled him closer, breaths mixing into a fusion of adoration before the loud ringing of someone's phone sounded.

“You better get that.” You mumbled into his mouth. He simply groaned and shook his head against yours, his lips moving to the corner of your mouth. “It could be Martin.” You said. “Peter.”

He pulled away, his eyes looking deep into yours before he pecked your nose and moved back, untangling himself from you and grabbing his phone, sliding to answer the call. “What do you want, Martin?” he spoke impatiently, eyeing you still against the wall.

“Hey man,” Martin spoke from the phone. “Just thought I’d call to see if everything was,” his voice lowered, “going according to plan? You still do want that cash don’t you?”

Peter looked up at your tangled hair and lightly swollen lips. Your eyebrows furrowed at him as you stepped forward.

You were worth so much more than five hundred bucks.

“Screw the money, Martin.” He said.

 “What?” Martin replied, taken aback. “Parker, what’s going on without you?”

“I don’t need your money, I don’t need you.” Peter bit back, his voice laced with annoyance.

“Watch it Parker-” Peter hung up the phone before Martin could finish, tossing it onto the table before sighing.

“What happened?” You asked him, approaching him and grabbing his hand.

Peter smiled at you before pulling you against him, nuzzling his face into your neck, pulling you into an embrace. “I don’t want to fake a relationship with you anymore.” He whispered before lifting his face up and gazing into your eyes.

You gave him a bemused look.

He chuckled at you, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I want to do it for real.” You looked up at him as you heard his voice change. It wasn’t as deep, instead lighter, and more genuine. You grin was wide as he dipped his head back down, connecting his mouth back to yours.

“You know I could’ve done with that five hundred dollars.” You pulled back, grinning at him.

“Shut up.” Was all he said before kissing you again, both your smiles broad.

-

Things changed a lot during the next week. Even though Martin was pissed at Peter, the rest of the guys didn’t seem to care that much. He still hung out with his friends, and after a while of actually getting to know them, they didn’t seem all that intolerable.

Most of them.

You saw Peter softening up sometimes, he no longer dragged you to the back of classes or spent every minute of the day with the guys. However, there was still a line between the old Peter and new one.

Sometimes the line was less obvious, like when you introduced Peter to MJ. The two were hesitant to talk to each other at first, not knowing how to act or what to say, but after Peter caught a glimpse of the book MJ had with her during lunch, the two of them dove into a heated debate, frustrating MJ and amusing Peter.

You grinned as the two of them bickered, laughing at MJ. She’d probably be much closer to the Peter you knew when you were younger, but you learned to love the Peter you had right now.

“Peter?” he hummed in response for you to go on as you played with his hair. “I invited someone over today, to hang out with us. That okay?”

It was one evening when you decided to test just how much the line could falter.

You and Peter hung out in your apartment, his head resting on your lap as the two of you sat on your couch, watching TV. You saw your phone buzz before deciding to talk to Peter.

“Don’t know,” he replied before grinning at you. “Is she cute?”

You rolled your eyes at him, silently scolding him as the doorbell rang. You lightly pushed him off of you as you went to answer it, him standing up behind you and following you. “It’s not a she, actually.” You grasped the front door handle, turning to face him.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he crossed his arms behind you. “Who is it then?”

You smiled at him before, pulling open the front door. Behind it, Ned stood, playing with his hands. “Hey Peter.” He said quietly, slowly waving at him.

Peter looked between you and Ned, stepping in front of you to be directly in front of the boy. Your heart sunk as Ned flinched at the movement, probably used to being hurt by people like him.

Peter’s face softened as he held his hand out to the boy, smiling instead. Ned’s mouth turned into a broad grin before he excitedly put his hand in, the two delving into their old handshake before Peter pulled him into a hug, both of them laughing. “I missed you buddy.” Peter said before pulling away and pulling you in, Ned’s hands trapping the two of you into a group hug.

Things weren’t going to be the same, but right then and there, you knew you could be okay.                                          

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Kentucky Calling

Pairing: Beth Harmon/Benny Watts Rating: T Word Count: 1426

Summary: Beth calls Benny up, hoping to talk a few things through after Russia, and finds him just as eager to hear her voice as she is to hear his.

“What?”

Beth’s eyebrows rise at Benny’s fed-up tone.

“Well, this isn’t the greeting I was expecting.” She smiles against the receiver.

“Beth?”

“That’s right,” she says with a laugh in her voice. “Who am I supposed to be?”

He groans and her smile widens, sure his irritation is not for her.

“The fucking State Department.”

“Why are you angry at the State Department?”

“They wouldn’t give me any details about you, when you were expected back. I managed to keep one son of a bitch on the line half an hour, but he just squirmed the whole time, refusing to share your itinerary. Where are— You’re back,” he says with sudden realization.

She hears him calm and uses the change to judge how worried he was a moment ago. Fairly worried, Beth decides. Oh, Benny.

“Yep. In Lexington as we speak. Calling from my own kitchen.”

He sighs.

“You might’ve let me know.”

“You know, I asked on the plane, but the pilot just wouldn’t radio the control tower to call you up for me,” she jokes. She laughs.

“So, did you give them the slip?”

“More or less. The State Department’s itinerary didn’t align very well with mine at the end there. I stayed a couple extra days to actually experience a little of the city and then flew home by myself.”

“Huh.”

“Benny?”

“Yeah?”

Beth grips the phone.

“Are you going to forgive me for worrying you? Now that I’ve confirmed they didn’t lose me over the Atlantic?”

“You yes. Them? No. Those bastards deserve a little hassling after they didn’t fund your trip. They pay a guy to watch you every waking goddamn minute, plus his flight, his room—how much does that cost?”

“I can’t believe you’ve been sitting around harassing the government on my behalf,” Beth says wonderingly, partly to head off Benny’s building rant. The man loves to talk.

“Well, the others got sick of me, as you can imagine.”

“Harry? Matt? The others? They’re still with you?”

“Can’t get rid of ‘em. They’ve been celebrating since you won and sleeping that off until midafternoon. When they drag themselves out to have lunch somewhere, I… well, I sit around with the phone to my ear, on hold, looking for you.”

“I beat him,” she whispers, because she can finally break the news to him herself.

“You did.” She can feel Benny smiling in the long pause. She’s doing the same. “I saw the writeup of your moves; looked like the most expensive phone call I’ve ever made was worth something.”

“It meant a lot. If you hadn’t had a clue about what I should try next against Borgov, it would’ve meant the same.”

“Look. I’m… I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did before you left. I felt terrible about it right away.”

“Good. And I…” Beth takes a deep breath that she’s sure he can hear. She twists the phone cord around her finger and tilts her head back against the wall. “…I shouldn’t have pushed you away in the first place. I hurt you, I could hear it in your voice, and—”

“I don’t need excuses. It was shortsighted of me to get defensive. What you were trying to accomplish was bigger than me.”

She agrees with a hum and adds, “Yes. Beating communists in the name of Jesus is for the good of us all.”

She thrills at his burst of laughter.

“How the hell did you pay for Moscow without them?”

“Jolene. You’ll meet her sometime, I hope.”

“If that means I can see you again, I’d be glad to.”

Now, there’s a distinct lack of breath because they both seem to be holding it.

“You will,” she says. After grazing her gaze thoughtfully around the kitchen, Beth frowns and remembers something. “Did the papers say anything about how Borgov looked at the end of the match?”

“They said he took the defeat with dignity. That he hugged you—is that true?”

She rolls her eyes at Benny’s poorly disguised annoyance.

“Yes, but I mean his face. He seemed at peace. Like I had helped him, somehow. Other people I’ve played, and I’m sure people you’ve played too, have this franticness, this terrifying, transparently obvious floundering quality. They don’t know what they’re going to do with the next five minutes of their life after losing, never mind months or years. But Borgov knew. His wife and son were always with him. I think, at the end, he was ready to be with his family.” She waits a second or two, mentally checking and confirming her next move before she speaks. “That’s what I want too.”

“I— What is this, Beth? A proposal?”

She laughs and clutches the phone as she shakes her head.

“Of course not. I just want you to know that you’re important to me.” Her voice grows solemn and fond. “Thank you for calling. I’ll never forget it.”

“I guess I had enough to get to Moscow with you after all,” Benny says, speech softening similarly until he sounds impossibly intimate. Like he only really has that time he said he missed her. The fact that he’s more vulnerable like this than he is face-to-face is something Beth enjoys about them being far enough apart to need to call. He clears his throat. “So it’s good that you weren’t trying to propose, because we know my, uh, allocation of funds could use some improvement and you don’t need to saddle yourself with that.”

“I certainly don’t. I have three thousand dollars to pay back to Jolene and then… I don’t know. Keep paying for the house.”

Beth twirls her hand in the air to indicate it, though he’s not there to see. If she tries, she can picture his leather jacket folded over the back of a chair, his hat tossed carelessly onto the counter. It’s not a bad picture. Definitely not the worst domestic vignette this place has ever staged.

“Grand plans.”

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“Make fun of the woman who just annihilated the World Champion? I wouldn’t dare. You’d drive straight out here and do to me what you did to Borgov. I can only be humbled like that so often.”

“Once every fifteen years?” she prompts.

“Hmm, ideally, but I won’t be able to resist playing you that long.”

“Well, I won’t go easy.”

“Going easy would only insult me,” Benny assures her.

“Got it. You prefer being beaten so thoroughly that I have to sweep the ashes of your ego off the board afterwards. Like dust.”

“I’m not rushing to play you again after that comment.”

“We could do something else. When I see you,” Beth elaborates, feeling herself perk up, her back straightening. “We don’t have to play chess.”

“The two of us, not playing chess.” He sounds like he’s genuinely contemplating it. “That’s original, but I don’t think it’d last very long. How much of the time we’ve shared has been spent not playing chess? I’ll tell you: very little.”

“But it’s possible. Whether or not you’ll stop talking about chess, on the other hand…”

“I—ha—I do remember a particular instance of you being ticked off at me about that.”

Whether or not Beth has consciously led them there, they’ve arrived. At least he can recall that going over strategy immediately after they had sex didn’t impress her, though he was befuddled by her brusqueness at the time.

“You wanna show me that you’ve learned from that?” she challenges.

She hears the groan he must be muffling behind his hand.

“If I told you in full how badly I want to show you that, we’d be running up another big telephone bill.”

Beth smiles coyly to herself and taps her fingernail against the back of the receiver.

“How big, Benny?”

“Beth, I— Hey, you’re back!” His voice is louder and she understands it’s for other people, the friends who have reentered his apartment. “No, idiot, she doesn’t want to talk to you. She doesn’t have to tell me, I already know.”

“Tell them all I hope to see them soon,” she pipes up to reclaim Benny’s attention. They can’t carry on now.

She hears him deliver her message before his voice sinks low again for her, his audience of one.

“Can you come to New York?” he asks. It has the ring of a riddle with all the times he’s posed the question to her before.

“Fuck that,” Beth says, grinning. “I’ll see you in Kentucky the day after tomorrow.”

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Evan’s 6✩ Inspiration: Umbrae Secrets [繁荫秘语] Date Translation (Prologue)

“I saw Mr. Lu in the elevator just now! He was acting different from his usual self and the look on his face was absolutely frigid…”

*Light and Night Master-list | Evan’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *This 6✩ Inspiration has 8 Endings!! *Evan’s tag will be #For Night, For Revolution

It was an ordinary day of work. I’d just gotten to the office when Li Man’man opened the door and entered the room.

Li Man'man: No way, no way! You’ll never believe it! I’m doing all of you a favour by reminding you to behave today.

Brother Mao: Huh? What’s gotten you into such a tizzy?

Li Man’man rubbed the goosebumps that had arisen on her arms, shivering as she recalled what she’d seen.

Li Man'man: I saw Mr. Lu in the elevator just now! He was acting different from his usual self and the look on his face was absolutely frigid…

Li Man'man: I thought I’d turn into a block of ice in no time flat the moment our gazes met!

MC: What?

Hearing her recollection, I couldn’t help but to suddenly think back to what happened yesterday during lunch hour.

❖☆———————————★❖

At noon, I’d compiled a set of documents related to jewellery designs, just as Evan had requested and brought it up to his office.

A voice sounded from within when I knocked on the door of his office. It sounded unusually indifferent.

Evan: Come in.

❖☆———————————★❖

Pushing the door open, I saw Evan leaning against his chair, his brows were furrowed, hanging low, and there seemed to be thick storm clouds brewing in his eyes.

He was still staring blankly out the window in a daze when I went up to his desk.

Evan: Just leave it there.

MC: Okay.

Hearing me, he turned. The dark look on his face instantly lightened up.

Evan: Hm? Oh, it's you.

Evan: Sorry, I was just thinking about something.

Recalling the unusual look he had on his face when I entered, I couldn’t help but step on eggshells around him.

MC: Don't worry about it. Here are the documents you requested. Are you… okay?

Before he could reply, however, the landline on his desk suddenly rang, interrupting our conversation.

MC: I'll leave you to it!

Evan nodded apologetically at me and I took my leave from his office.

❖☆———————————★❖

Did something happen to make him unhappy…?

With his personality, he wouldn’t tell anyone about his troubles even if something WAS troubling him, no doubt.

❖☆———————————★❖

When I got home at night, I switched on the TV. It was coincidentally broadcasting a camping-related program.

The lush green forest, the joyous chirruping of birds and their songs… Everything there was powered by Mother Nature’s power of healing, capable of washing away all exhaustion in one’s body and mind.

I didn't know why I thought of Evan again, but I did.

MC: There’s a gigantic forest at the outskirts of Guangqi City and it’s clear weather out all the time now.

MC: Maybe he might feel better if I can somehow get him out to the forest for a walk...

An idea popped into my head and I scrambled to fetch my phone, searching for the familiar name in my contacts.

I was just about to hit the call button when I suddenly thought of a plausible issue.

MC: I don’t think he’ll reject me regardless if he wants to go or not if I invite him directly like that.

MC: Maybe I should feel around for his thoughts about it so that I don’t unknowingly coerce him into anything.

After pondering it for a while, I hit the dial button.

❖☆———————————★❖

Evan: (Y/n)? What's the matter?

MC: … Evan, I… err, have gotten interested in coffee lately.

Evan: Really? What flavour of coffee do you like? I'll be glad to recommend you things.

MC: Oh… I haven't decided yet.

MC: Ahem, have you ever seen a coffee tree? I've never seen it myself with my own two eyes! I really want to go see one~

Evan: About that…

He sounded hesitant, there was no doubt about it. I awkwardly scratched my head. 

Did I come off too strange by bringing up that question out of the blue!?

Evan: Coffee trees have strict requirements when it comes to the environment they’re grown in. And as far as I’m aware, the PH levels of the soil and the amount of rainfall here in Guangqi City do not fit their criteria.

Evan: So, I'm afraid it'll be hard for you to spot one in Guangqi City.

Evan: But we can go see one together in Africa during your next vacation if you'd like.

MC: Eh? Africa? No need then.

MC: Ahaha… then, how about...

When there’s a will, there’s a way. I saw a glimmer of light at the end of the dark path in my mind.

MC: Then, what about a bamboo pith?

MC: I had some bamboo piths while eating hotpot a couple of days ago! I find that it’s a very amazing fungus! I really want to see one growing for myself!

Evan: It is. Although information is now widely accessible, it still hits different when you see it with your own eyes.

Evan: When are you free? We can go check it out together.

MC: Brilliant!

That's what I've been waiting for you to say!

MC: Are you free next weekend?

Evan: Yes, my weekends are open.

Evan: You… Are you this happy just to go to the forest for a walk?

MC: Hahaha, yeah! Super happy!

Evan: I'll come fetch you in my car next Saturday at 10 AM. Will that be alright?

MC: Sure! We're all set then!

Evan: Then, have you ever hiked or camped out before?

MC: No… but don't worry!

MC: I’ve watched lots of videos about camping on the internet! I’ll prepare all the equipment we’ll need this time!

Evan: Alright. I'll be leaving it all to you then.

❖☆———————————★❖

Soon, the appointed day arrived.

When I came downstairs lugging along a rucksack that towered about half a person tall, Evan, who was waiting by his car, looked slightly taken aback.

Evan: You…

I found myself blanking out as I stared at Evan, standing not too far away,

This was my first time seeing Evan dressed in such a casual manner.  The soft and form-fitting material of his clothes made his shoulders appear wider and him, much more reliable. It was reassuring, to say so in the least.

MC: Haha, did I bring one too many things? Actually, I think so too.

MC: In case we don't find a bamboo pith today, we can still camp overnight in the forest with this.

MC: Don't you think?

He smiled as he approached, taking the heavy bag off my shoulders.

Evan: Sounds good.

Evan: You must have fun and enjoy your first camping trip, if anything.

The tenderness in his countenance was the same as always. Where was that coldness to him that a certain someone had mentioned?

I secretly felt a wave of relief wash over me.

MC: Let's head out then!

❖☆———————————★❖

After driving on the suburban roads for nearly an hour, we finally reached an area near the forest on the outskirts of the City.

Evan gently took my bag out of the trunk, slinging it over his shoulder.

MC: That's pretty heavy. How about you let me carry it myself?

Evan: Since we're going to be travelling together anyway, how about we both give it our best?

MC: Alright then. Thanks!

❖☆———————————★❖

Stepping into the forest, lush green foliage surrounded us all around.

The ubiquitous noise and lights were all isolated from here, creating a secluded and serene atmosphere.

The air was warm, humid, and carried the sweet refreshing scent of vegetation. Relaxation was literally oozing out of my pores.

I turned around to look back at Evan. He was standing ramrod straight as usual with a blank expression on his face.

MC: Evan, we're here to relax!

Evan: Thank you. I am very relaxed.

MC: You can afford to be more relaxed. Here, follow me. Open your arms like this, take a deep breath, and go "Ahh…"

He smiled helplessly at me. Just when I thought he was going to refuse, he mimicked my stance, opening his arms wide.

Evan: Ahh…

MC: Hahaha. Yup, just like that.

I took out a map and a compass from the bag.

MC: I will be the leader for today! I’ve already marked all the routes we can take. Let’s see… let’s go this way first!

Evan: Alright. As you say, leader.

We proceeded through the forest according to the directions shown on the map.

We chatted about the animals and plants that we saw as we walked. Or more accurately, Evan was the one introducing them all to me.

Evan: Sorry. It must be boring hearing me talk about all these.

MC: Nope. I’m actually even more interested after hearing you talk about them.

MC: Also, your expression changes into something a little different from what I’m used to whenever you talk about something you like.

Evan: Something that I like? I’m not really sure if it constitutes as me liking it, but I think I’ll like it if you do.

He smiled in a manner as if he didn’t mind it at all, stopping as he took out some tissues and a bottle of water from his bag.

Evan: Here. Wipe your sweat and hydrate yourself.

MC: Thanks.

The soft bubbling of running water entered our ears as we stopped to rest.

MC: Looks like there's a small rover up ahead, just like how it's drawn in the map!

Evan: Looks like the leader's leading well.

❖☆———————————★❖

Following the sound of running water, we soon found the river.

The clear stream rushed across the pebbles, the crystalline liquid glittering under the golden light of the sun. The wind that blew past the waters was very cool and very refreshing. It felt great on my slightly worn-out body.

MC: The cool breeze here by the river’s really nice! And the sound of dripping water’s also very calming.

Evan: Looks like there’s a flat rock over there where we can sit.

Evan: Do you want to rest for a bit?

I want to…

After pondering for a while, I finally decided to…

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 +3 + 4 | Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

END 4 + 6 | Choice: Approach [亲近] ⊹Touch⊹

END 7 + 8 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ☆Light & Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Revolution⊹ —————★❖

[munsonboy]

Marvel G/t Oneshot: A Place to Call Home

Loki x borrower!Peter Parker x female!borrower Y/n

I wrote this in 5 days😅😂...enjoy!

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It was an incredibly stormy night at the Avengers Tower. Everyone was cooped up in their bedrooms, keeping themselves busy to take their minds off of the storm that was brewing outside. Loki sat in his room with his back against the head board of his bed. He had his legs bent so that his knees were sticking up from underneath the blanket. That’s where his little friend Peter was currently sitting. Peter was perched up on the giant Asgardian’s knee, throwing questions at Loki left and right about the storm. “Are you sure that the Tower isn’t going to get knocked over? It’s raining pretty hard out there and I really don’t think the building could withstand-..”, Peter stopped talking when Loki held his hand up as a gesture to not continue anymore with the conversation. “Peter, if you ask me one more question about the rain, I think I might just throw you out in it.” Peter’s eyes went as wide as buttons and his face paled. This caused Loki to feel guilt rush quickly into his chest. “I’m just joking, little one. You must know by now that I would never do that to you. I’m not even sure that someone your size would have a mere chance of survival out there”, said Loki as he turned his head to look out the window. Peter laughed nervously. “Yeah, I hope there aren’t any borrowers out in this.”

The raindrops falling from the sky were hitting the windows as if they were bullets, trees in Central Park looked as if they were going to be torn out of the ground, and a 3-inch tall girl named Y/n was currently having the worst night of her life. Y/n had been out and about in the big city and hadn’t even thought to look up towards the grey clouds that were hovering above the tall buildings. She was on a mission to find a new place to call home since she was caught in the recent one she’s been borrowering from for a while now, but instead she found herself running around huge puddles, dogding the massive raindrops that were almost as big as her head, and most importantly, she was trying to find something that would shelter her from the tsunami of rain coming down.

It was almost like someone heard her prayers, because Y/n soon stumbled upon the biggest building she had ever seen. “There has to be at least one good hiding spot in this building”, said Y/n. Her eyes scanned where the building met the sidewalk, seeing if there was anyway possible for her to get inside. “Please let there be a hole, please-....bingo!” Y/n had spotted a small hole on the outside of the building’s wall that she would be able to shimmy her way through. “I’ll be out of this rain in no time and I’ll finally be able to dry off somehow”, said Y/n as she looked down at her soaked clothes. If only she knew what, or who, was waiting for her on the inside.

Once she was inside and out of the rain, Y/n had found the vent system and started her journey from there. Every now and then she would peak out from the safety of the vents to see if there were any humans around and luckily for her, not one was insight. Y/n couldn’t wrap her mind around it, but who was she to complain? No humans meant all the more she could borrower and not have to worry about being spotted. However, Y/n’s curiosity got the better of her, so she decided to continue walking until she found at least one human being.

The more she walked through the vents, the more floors she went up and before she knew it, the voices of multiple different people were soon echoing throughout the vents where Y/n was. “Great, looks like I’m not alone.” After snooping around and taking a good look at the humans who lived in the tower and who she would have to stay hidden from, Y/n soon discovered that it housed multiple super heroes. She took note of who she had spied on so far. A blonde man with muscles who had a red, white, and blue flag up on the wall, a woman that could move things by using some kind of red orb in her hands, a guy that was playing with a bow and a few arrows, two scientists who were definitely going to be avoided at all costs, a woman with short red hair, and another blonde man who was playing with some funky looking hammer. “Of all the places I’ve lived, this definitely has to be the coolest and most strangest place I’ve come across”, said Y/n to herself.

She continued walking through the vents to find some place quiet when she stumbled upon a room that looked practically empty. The vent led her out onto a desk and without checking to see if any humans were around, she exited the vents and stepped foot out in the open. Y/n’s eyes trailed around the room for not even one second before they landed on the giant that occupied the room. He was sitting on the bed directly across from the desk she was on. She yelped, hoping that the human didn’t hear, and jumped behind the tissue box that was looming beside her.

She slowly peaked around the side of it and studied the human. He had raven black hair that barely passed his shoulders and was very pale looking, even from far away. It looked as if he was just at a costume party because he had this green, gold, and black armor on. He was also talking to someone, but there were no other humans in sight. Y/n looked around the room, confused as ever, to see if there was another human besides the one she was looking at. As Y/n continued staring at the human, her eyes went wide. There was a borrower sitting on the human’s knee, conversing with the giant. “Is that borrower crazy?”, Y/n asked herself. “That’s like asking to be killed.” Y/n decided to not stick around anymore, not wanting to get caught, so she decided to walk towards the edge of the desk to find an escape route.

Loki and Peter had ended their conversation about the rain and began to talk about their plans for tomorrow. “Okay, so I was thinking you could hide me in your pocket and we go down to Central Park for a nice morning walk!”, said Peter excitedly. Loki stared at him for a moment and said, “If you think I’m going to risk your safety just so you can look at a few trees while I have to deal with receiving unpleasant glares from strangers, you are mistaken, young Peter.” Loki tapped Peter on the head and laughed as he tried to push Loki’s finger away. “The rain will most likely continue throughout the morning. So I say we explore the library the Avengers Tower has to offer. I do not recall you telling me that you have been there before”, said Loki.

“I forgot about the library! I never went there though because Mr. Stark was always walking around. I didn’t want to risk being caught by a scientist”, said Peter. Loki smiled at the borrower sitting on top of his knee. “Yes, well, instead of a scientist, you ended up getting caught by the God of Mischief”, said Loki, which got a laugh out of Peter. Making his little friend laugh was probably one of the few things that warmed Loki’s heart. However, nothing beats earning the trust of such a small being. Loki still couldn’t believe that borrowers actually exist. He yearned to have another opportunity to become friends with another borrower. Peter would have someone to hang out with that was actually his size. As Loki looked at Peter laughing, his eyes wandered behind Peter and over to his desk. They fell upon a sight that made his heart want to leap out of his throat. A tiny girl, no bigger than Peter, was standing at the edge of his desk, looking down towards the floor. ‘If she were to fall, she would-...’, Loki couldn’t even finish the thought. He gently picked Peter up and set him down on the bed. “I’ll be one moment, Peter.” He didn’t give Peter a chance to question where he was going and made his way over towards the borrower on the desk.

“Okay..now what?”, asked Y/n to herself as she stared at the floor that seemed miles away from her. She really didn’t think this all the way through. Come to think of it, she didn’t even come to realize what her plan would be if the giant ended up seeing her. Just as Y/n was about to turn back around to get away from the edge, a shadow encased her in darkness. She slowly turned around to be met with the giant, who had been sitting on the bed, looming over her. It was then that she saw the giant’s hand that was coming closer. It was making its way towards her and she couldn’t do anything about it.

If she were to run, the hand would just snatch her right up, so what would be the point? As the giant’s fingers snaked themselves around Y/n’s waist, she closed her eyes. She felt herself being gently squeezed and before she was able to process what was happening, Y/n felt herself being raised higher and higher. Suddenly, she felt a squishy surface beneath her feet. Y/n’s legs were shaking like crazy and they weren’t able to hold her up, so she landed on her bum, and involuntary backpedaled until her back hit the fingers overhead that were more than twice her size. “This is it...I’m done for..”, said Y/n quietly to herself as she ducked her head down.

Loki studied the small girl in his palm. She had blonde hair that was neatly tied up in a ponytail, she wore a patchwork shirt with black pants and a pair of little, slip on shoes. Her clothes actually looked like she had gotten them off of a doll, but they looked as if they had been dumped in a bucket of water. “Were you caught out in the rain, little one?”, asked Loki. He saw the tiny girl flinch at the sound of his voice, but he received no response.

After observing her appearance and not getting an answer to his question, Loki almost forgot to think of how much he was scaring the girl. Her arms were covering her face, hands on her head, which seemed to be giving her some sense of protection, and even though she was smaller than his thumb, Loki could visibly see her quivering. ‘Poor thing. She must be terrified’, thought Loki to himself. His heart ached when his ears picked up on the inaudible, short breathes the tiny was taking in and out.

Y/n didn’t like the predicament she had gotten herself into. Her vision was blurred due to the tears in her eyes and she couldn’t even sit still. She wouldn’t let this giant see her break down. Y/n refused to let that happen again. Suddenly, an immense pressure was on her back, gently rubbing around in small circles. Y/n quickly realized that it was the giant’s finger, but she failed to notice how gentle he was being and instantly took it that she was being pet like an animal. That was the last straw. Y/n’s tears escaped the brims of her eyes and streamed down her rosey cheeks, getting her somewhat dry shirt wet again.

Loki, on the other hand, froze completely and removed his finger from her back. He didn’t expect her to break down this much. Peter was very frightened of Loki when they first encountered each other, but he didn’t react this badly. Without thinking, Loki walked over towards Peter, who was sitting on the bed the entire time. If anyone could calm the tiny girl down, it would definitely be Peter. Loki knelt down in front of Peter, holding the girl close to his chest. “Loki what happened? Why do I hear someone crying-..?”, as Peter finished asking his question, Loki had brought the girl down towards the bed and rested his hand on the mattress. He unfurled his fingers so Peter could see the new addition to the family. He couldn’t believe his eyes. “A-Another borrower?!”, he exclaimed. “Yes, and do make sure to be quiet, young Peter. She is petrified. I was wondering if you could somehow get her to a calmer state so we can all talk”, said Loki.

Peter clambered right on top of Loki’s hand without saying a word and walked over to the girl. Peter had never seen another borrower before, so this was a whole new experience for him. As Peter got closer to her, he noticed that she was much shorter than him. ‘Finally, I wouldn’t be the shortest person in the Tower anymore’, thought Peter to himself. He knelt down beside the girl, looking at her.

“H-Hey there, are you o-okay?” Peter mentally slapped himself for stuttering, but brushed that aside when he got a response out of her. She had looked up from her crouched position and was staring into Peter’s eyes. The only thing he saw was fear. Peter instinctively wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug. He felt the girl tense up, but she welcomed his embrace in a matter of seconds. “You really don’t have to be scared. Loki isn’t going to hurt you. He’s actually super nice!”, said Peter happily. His happiness grew by the dozens when the girl started talking to him. “H-He is?”, she asked. “Yeah! He acts tough on the outside, but he’s a real softie once you get to know him!”, exclaimed Peter, who was poked by Loki’s finger. He looked up to see Loki smirking at him. “I’m Peter by the way! What’s your name?” Peter broke the hug, but kept an arm around her to reassure that she was fine.

Y/n contemplated whether or not she should tell him what her name was, but she felt so relaxed after Peter had hugged her, that she now found it rude not to tell him. “U-Um I-..I-I’m Y-Y/n.”

“That’s a nice name! Do you want to tell Loki what your name is?”, asked Peter. He felt Y/n tense up again, so he said, “You really have nothing to be scared of. He’s not gonna hurt you. Trust me.” And with that, Y/n looked up at the giant who was holding her and Peter. The huge, green eyes staring at Y/n made her nervousness slightly go up again, but she tried to hold onto the confidence that she was feeling when he softly smiled at her. “My n-name is Y/n, s-sir.” Loki couldn’t believe his ears. She had told him her name. “Y/n..”, repeated Loki under his breath. He wanted to see how her name sounded when he said it. “You have the most elegant name I have ever heard of, little one. I am Loki, Prince of Asgard. It is lovely to meet your acquaintance my dear and please do not call me sir. It makes me feel old.” Loki chuckled softly.

“Wow, he’s really polite”, whispered Y/n to Peter. He laughed as he looked at Y/n. Peter suddenly got an idea. “Loki! Can we watch a movie to celebrate Y/n’s first night here at the Tower?” “Now, young one, we are still unsure if Y/n even wants to stay here with us. We did not even ask her yet”, said Loki. He didn’t want to force it upon Y/n to stay here with him and Peter. It was bad enough that he had scooped her up off of his desk without her consent. He didn’t want to mess things up and scare her all over again.

“You..you both wouldn’t m-mind if I stayed here?”, asked Y/n. “Oh by Odin! Of course we do not mind, little one!”, responded Loki. Y/n thought for a moment. Was she really going to do this? Stay in a tower full of super heroes? She didn’t really have anywhere else to go, so how could she pass up a chance to finally have a home? “I-I would love to stay here with you and Peter!”, exclaimed Y/n.

Peter hugged Y/n again and started listing off the different movies that they could watch. She looked up at Loki to see him laughing away at Peter’s actions. That’s when Y/n suddenly got an idea. When Peter released her from his bone crushing hug, Y/n stood up, catching her balance, and walked over to Loki’s thumb. She wrapped her arms around the long digit and just hugged it. “Th-Thank you. Thank you so much for giving me a new home, Loki”, she said as she continued to hug his finger.

Loki’s heart practically melted because of the sweet gesture. He used his pointer finger on his other hand to rub her back gently. “No need to thank me, my little dove. Everyone deserves a place to call home.” Loki ruffled Y/n’s hair a little, getting a sweet laugh out of her.

The days that followed Y/n’s first meeting with Loki and Peter were the best days she had ever lived through. Loki had made her a makeshift bed that was placed on his bedside table, but she hardly ever used it. She slept on his chest every night, with Peter next to her. A hand was always cupped over the two borrowers, sheltering them from the outside world. Loki would always read to them to help them sleep, and it always worked like a charm.

Y/n had finally done it. She had made new friends who she was proud to call her family.

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Let me know if you liked it! Also, let me know if I should do more oneshots like this! It was super fun writing this story :D