#and i’m just like?? how do i cross this invisible curtain between me and everyone else

[hightowres]

why do i feel like there’s some sort of veil between me and the rest of the world

[wizkiddx]

hiiiii i love your stuff - could u do one where the readers ill but they have stuff to do and tom has to look after her. maybe if they were just friends before too but both pining? thankuuuuuuuuu

should I be writing this instead of revising? clearly fucking not. Did I make this little blurb req ridiculously long purely to procrastinate? Of fucking course.

but also this was v cute! I assumed u meant famous!reader, sorry if that's not what u were after at all anon x

summary: Tom Holland turns into the readers knight in shining armour when they get ill during promo

warnings: fainting / feeling ill

///////////////////

It couldn’t be today. Of all days, why today? You’d been at home for two weeks doing absolutely nothing, before this trip. And yet it’s when your itinerary is packed to the brim, people moving heaven and earth just speak to you. Two weeks of unrelenting press for Marvels next big ensemble movie. 

Your manager was speaking to you, reeling off a run down of todays activities but instead of listening you nodded along blankly - head rather cloudy with this heavy mist that was not shaking off, no matter how hard you tried. 

“You got that Y/n/n?” Lucy pointedly spoke, eyes almost physically knocking you backwards as if her eyeliner was battery rams. Fumbling with your thoughts, your answer wasn’t particularly cohesive earning you just a disappointed head shake. 

“I um… yeh I think. Who-who did you say I was paired up with?” 

“Y/n please for the love of god. Tom, like I said the past fifty times.” And to be fair to Lucy she wasn’t wrong. It was the first major major promo tour for the both of you and after just two days so far - you were both exhausted. She was more than allowed to be a bit short tempered. 

“But we-we hardly know each other? The chemistry won’t be there and-“

“As I said, I tried to re-jig it but Kevin is of the mind that acting is your job.” Her tone was sharp but as she glared across the opposing seats, in the little mini van Marvel had hired for you as transportation, her eyes softened. Lucy had been so wrapped up in her own stress she may have overlooked quite how gingerly you were sitting. By the time she had arrived at the hotel, your stylist had already managed to half save your ghoulish looking face, with sunken under eyes and tired skin, so it wasn’t so blatantly obvious how crap you were feeling.  “Is everything okay with you?” 

It felt pretty puny to say that the jet lag from flying to Tokyo had been weighing you down further than you wanted, or that the local cuisine top chefs had kindly prepared for you last night wasn’t siting well in your stomach. To be honest, even you thought it was just your body being a bit overdramatic. So in response, you put on your best happy-go-lucky face feigning a smile.

“No no I’m fine, just want to give the best interviews I can and you know…. I’m awkward as hell as it is, then pair me with the most talented actor that I share about two minutes of screen time with…it’ll be interesting.” 

The way Lucy reacted with a weird slow nod, eyebrows furrowed, meant it was quite apparent you had perhaps overplayed that one. Had you not been so over the day before it even began, you would’ve tried again to give a more believable act. But as you were, you turned your attention back out to the bustling streets of Tokyo and the high rise buildings bordering each pavement. 

You didnt have a problem with Tom, far from it in fact. Tom was hilarious and the times you had met him, you’d both built up this weird and sarcastic competitiveness with each other. It was a game of who could get the last laugh, each of you pushing each other with the Mickey taking just a little further. Of course, not in a malicious way, just the way you’d both lived pretty similar but parallel careers - when everyone drew comparisons between the both of you, it was nice to make it a joke. 

Like Tom you’d also started out on stage, had a ‘big break’ movie as a kid and then spent your teenage years on and off film sets - till marvel happened. Then everything blew up to epic proportions, changing your life forever. Actually, it was so similar to Tom’s story, plus the fact you were also from the south west of the UK. It was bizarre your paths hadn’t crossed more - He probably could’ve been a useful ally in the the whole ‘becoming famous’ thing. 

And yet, you could probably count on two hands the amount of conversations you’d had with him. 

Now that, that was the issue. Right from the beginning you learn what the press want and when you are publicising a movie you cater into it too. They’d all be asking for the insider scoop on set; what pranks you’d pulled on each other; what was the most annoying thing about each other. Which is hard if you’d only had 5 or 6 days actually on set together. 

By the time the cab had wormed its way through the Tokyo traffic and you arrived at the PR hotel, it was already 9:30 - making you 15 minutes late (blame it on the traffic). Instantly then you were ushered straight to the interview room for the evening, no chance of green room chat or grabbing a drink before. The place was stuffy, everything was draped with black curtains except the poster board that Tom was already sitting infront of. 

He’d scrubbed up well, no doubt about it. He was wearing statement-ish burgundy suit trousers, teamed with a black knitted but collared shirt thing - that was clearly tailor made for the man. As soon as he noticed you scurry into the room, his face broke out into a warm smile, jumping up to greet you in a friendly hug. It was brief, and as you pulled back you accidentally bumped your head on one of the overhanging lights. No doubt someone had spent a ridiculous amount of time configuring them so they were positioned perfectly, which you had just ruined with your big head. 

“Oh shit!” Tom just laughed in response, shaking his head slightly as he lead you the two steps across to your pre-positioned seats. 

“Making an entrance as always I see!”

“Yeh, you know me, a bit of chaos just to keep everyone on their toes.”

“Oh is that why you’re ‘fashionably late’” With a playful wiggle of his eyebrows, you just rolled your eyes, fidgeting on the chair to find a position that didnt aggravate  your stomach so much.

“I’m ready now though! What did I miss? Just having to pretend to be your friend for 15 minutes?” You stressed the words as though the thought of conversation with Tom was the absolute worst thing in the world - which you definetly didnt think. Scowling like you’d insulted his dog Tessa, it was almost visible how the cogs were turning in his head looking for a comeback. Unfortunately for him though, he was quickly shut up but the organiser bringing the first interviewer in . 

For what would, no doubt, be a long day. 

////

Everything had started off so well, the banter was flowing between you and Tom, no major spoilers revealed that meant Marvel would have to make the journalist disappear. It was once you hit an hour of back-to-back interviews that everything started to crack bit. Because yes, it had only been an hour but that was enough to exhaust you on this particular day. When Tom joked around you got slower and slower, similarly the  energy was zapped from your own answers. It’s not very compelling when someone says ‘you have to watch this movie’ in a monotonous voice with sullen eyes. 

As the interviewers were swapping in and out, Tom actually lightly nudged your shoulder.

“Everything alright? We’re trying to sell tickets and you’ve got a face like thunder.”

“Oh no-no sorry I just, I-um.”

“You want some water?” Now looking at your with more concerned eyes, as if he was just nervous he’d actually offended you for calling you a boring bastard. And you would’ve picked up on it and alleviated his concerns, if it weren’t for the fact your eyes were glued on the water bottle he was holding out to you. You were thirsty. You knew that, that wasn’t the conundrum. What you weren’t so sure about was whether your stomach would accept it, or more violently reject it. In a very non ‘we’re-trying-to-sell-a-movie’ style. 

But the lightheaded fogginess in your brain won out, as you nodded jerkily, taking the bottle and taking a little swig - too cautious to take anymore. 

Now concerned with how Tom thought you were being a Debby-downer too, you managed to perk yourself up for the next four interviews. They were easy, asking questions without any activity and though you did rely on Tom beefing out and adding to your answers, it was okay. Then the next interviewer came in, who you recognised as being from the BBC, Ali Plumb, that had interviewed you a number of times. From the way Tom jumped up to give him afirendly bro-hug, you guessed he also was familiar with him. As soon as he took a seat the cameras were already flashing with the red light, demonstrating his 7 minutes had already started. 

“Guys! It’s been a while.” 

“How are you Ali?” You started it off with the pleasantries, Tom echoing, before the speccy dirty-blonde asked his first question. 

“So the last time I spoke to you guys the universe was in chaos, Peter Parkers on the run and Aurora Blake was trying to strip her own powers, so I guess my first question is how are you both doing? We can use this as a therapy session if you guys need.” His very typical nerdy joke made Tom laugh, nodding as he leaned forward and repositioned a bit. 

You didn’t share the same humour though, more focused on this invisible blanket of stuffiness that seemed to have been thrown on top of you. It made you feel groggy, incredibly hot and so unbelievable nauseous. The lights weren’t helping either, it felt like you were pouring with sweat from your forehead. You thought Tom was answering Ali, even if you couldn’t really hear  - everything had merged into a deafening roar. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, unconsciously making you fumble yourself to standing, desperate to get somewhere with fresh air. The last thing you saw before your vision tunnelled into darkness was Tom, reaching out to try and catch you. 

Because next thing you knew, you were on the floor, wires from all the cameras and lights digging into your back as you looked up to see Tom on one side and Lucy on the other - both wearing a similarly panicked expression. You knew you hadn’t been out long, seconds if that, going by the fact everyone else was in the ‘oh my god’ phase of panic. It was a bit weird how calm you where, but then again all your life you’d been the ‘class fainter’. Waking up on the floor was something you were long since used to. 

“Y/n? You awake?” Rather stating the obvious Tom asked the question as you bent your head up - allowing you sight of all the concerned facing oggling you. With a defeated sigh, you flopped your head back. 

“If this is a dream then it’s a real bloody nightmare.” This time Tom didnt seem to appreciate your joke, looking at you without almost dumbfounded eyes, as you blinked repetitively and groaned. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Lucy appeared to want to lecture you, which to be honest wasn’t the most time appropriate. You were still on the floor, legs crumpled up under you, so ignored her. Instead you pulled yourself up into a sitting position, taking a moment to blink away the blotchy haze that threatened to takeover your vision once again, whilst the pair above you both cautiously rested their palms on each of your shoulders -trying to be useful. The room still felt cramped and stifling, as everyone around were no doubt looking at you. 

It took a few minutes but your body seemed to get over itself, sitting up normally and trying to make small talk with Ali - who, by the way, was still sat awkwardly in the chair. Still nestled on the floor, your back up against the chair you had been siting on as you raved with Ali of the Harry Potter theatre show. In a natural lull in conversation, Tom perked up - from the door where he’d been muttering with the organiser as Lucy bit her nails nervously. 

“Y/n you need to go home.” 

All of you knew what Tom said was impossible. Not being egotistical, but you were too important. Although you hadn’t been paying masses of attention for Lucy’s run down of your itinerary - you knew it was packed. 

So you just looked up and rolled your eyes at Tom, earning yourself a strong glare, before locking the organiser in eye contact.

“How many have we got till lunch?” 

“Um this gent here” He gesturned toward Ali, who was almost squirming in his seat now “then two more.”  

“And then lunch?” 

“Yes, then you have a personal appearance at a dinner, so transport will be coming to pick you both up.” This poor guy seemed obsessed with the clock and his timetable, looking at your with a mixture of panic and frustration. You should know this stuff, you should’ve listened to Lucy. 

“How fars the drive?” 

“At this time probably an hour and a half.” 

The plan was clear in your head, you’d sort yourself out in the car and be fully fine by the afternoon and evening engagements. Plus you felt almost fine now. So with a sigh, you hauled yourself up onto the chair, patting for Tom to sit back down. 

“It’s half an hour and then I’ll sort myself out at lunch - come on their waiting.” The way Lucy pouted showed she disagreed somewhat, except a stern look kept her from protesting, as Tom walked toward you. 

“Are you sure you don’t loo-“

“Let me stop you before you insult my appearance.” Snickering slightly at his worried face, you laughed it off , knocking his side with a gentle murmur of ‘don’t worry about me’. 

In fact after that little episode you did feel a little recovered, which meant you were properly noticing the change in the boy sat next to you. Throughout the remaining three interviews he’d done a complete 360 from earlier. Rather than trying to get little digs at you, he had become fiercely protective - jumping in if a questions wasn’t particularly appropriate or relevant to the movie ( meaning when an awfully crap man asked what underwear you’d been able to wear in your suit) ; taking the heat of the conversation as well as just watching you like a hawk. Each time you answered his beady brown eyes were watching you from the side, you got the impression it wasn’t only just because of the risk of spoilers. 

Quite remarkably, you survived the rest of the day pretty well, after a power nap in the car on the way over - even if it was a bit difficult when you had your manager watching you like a hawk from the seat across. It was as if Lucy had never seen anyone ill before, she seemed concerned that you were going to spontaneously stop breathing and die at any point. 

Though by the time all the official business at the dinner was done, your body and willpower had reached the end of their tether. You and Tom were both on a round table, surrounded by 6 CEOs and execs of what seemed to be a multimillion pound business enterprise. With the language barrier meaning you had to speak through the two people on the table who were fluent in both japanese and English, the conversation was already pretty jilted. Though to be fair, the six did seem to be enjoying the evening - something you werent able to reciprocate. Thankfully, five minutes after the main course dishes had been collected, Tom spoke up from his position opposite you.

“This has been lovely and we really appreciate your time and generosity but me and Y/n have a really early start tomorrow so I think we should probably get back to the hotel.” You swore in that moment you could’ve kissed him, and it looked like Tom could tell - by the way your shoulders sagged and you let out an exhale of pure relief. Apparently even if you’d managed to convince the hosts you were enjoying the evening, Tom easily saw through the performance. After some hurried goodbyes, Tom led you out of the hall with his hand hovering over your lowerback, trying to make sure your exit was as discreet as possible. 

Away from the bubble of chatter and activity, in the deserted hallway, Tom stopped you - lightly holding both hands on each of your arms. 

“Wheres your team?” 

“Um Luce is back at the hotel, she was trying to see if she could reschedule any of my stuff tomorrow.” You winced at the way he sighed, realising you were all on your own in some random business event hall in Tokyo.

“Harry -my brother- is waiting in the car at the front - is that okay?”

“No Tom, don’t worry abo-“

“Yeh well I am and I think you feel ten times worse than you’re letting on.” He spoke harshly, like a school teacher telling you off - except the hint of a kind smile at the end was a dead giveaway. 

“You sure?” 

With a relieved nod (Tom had thought you might be a bit more stubborn - you obviously were really really ill) he wordlessly shrugged his suit jacket off, wrapping it round your shoulders. He muttered something about not wanting you to catch a chill but to be quite honest you were a bit distracted by the woody cedar smell of Toms aftershave that enveloped your senses. Maybe it wasn’t so bad being fussed on by him? To be fair he wasn’t wrong either, you were in a strapless evening dress - you would’ve preferred to be in joggers, but Marvels press team had other ideas. 

After a quick pit stop at the toilets, the two of you managed to make an unnoticed escape out the building - into a big SUV which had seconds prior pulled up onto the steps. You literally melted into the nearest window seat, body hunching over as you probably crumpled Tom’s jacket beyond belief. 2 seats along from you, a frizzy haired boy gave you a sympathetic smile, which you returned weakly whilst muttering a ‘hi’. Meanwhile, Tom pulled the sliding door shut, sitting across from you. 

“Oh Y/n this is Harry and Harry this is Y/n.” In unison both of you replied with an ‘I know’ eye roll. Your response was somewhat more shocking to both Holland boys, you could tell from the way they had this whole nonverbal conversation with their eyes - they were very clearly brothers. Needing to explain you continued. “I like to keep tabs on my castmates, I’ve seen you on Toms instagram.” That had both boys smirking, Harry presumably just because you knew who he was; Tom more smugly, you’d just given away you slightly stalked him on instagram. 

Silence reigned for a moment, as the driver put his foot down slightly. 

“How you doing?” Tom asked. 

“Mhm…” you thought for a second, how to eloquently describe the sensation. 

“shit.” 

Both boys chuckled a little and even though you had closed your eyes in an attempt to dull the throbbing behind your temples, you could feel the eyes on you. 

“You want the music off?” Harry asked, referring to the indie-rock coming quietly out the speakers of his laptop, which was resting on his lap. With a shake of your head you refused, even if really silence probably would help your head, you were already causing the two Hollands enough trouble - no need to bore them during the journey back into central Tokyo, especially when you weren’t the most enthusiastic company ever. 

Thankfully the music stayed on a low volume, whilst the car seemed to settle into a comfortable silence. With a long exhale you fluttered your eyes open, seeing Tom focused on his phone, before you rested the side of your head against the black-out glass. Taking some relief from the cool glass, you huddled further into the corner of the car against the door.

Floating in the space between sleep and wakefulness, you were kind of aware of your head occasionally bobbing and jerking about - but really didn’t have the energy or willpower to do anything about it. Instead, the thing that perked your attention was hearing some supposed-whispering from inside the body of the car.

“I know she said she didn’t care but she was clearly lying-“ 

“Like you know! You’ve been desperate to try and spend some time with Y/n- maybe you poisoned her just so you could be all knight-in-shini-“

“Turn. The. Music. Off.” Tom sounded scathing now, and with a grumble from your other-side the cheery drum beats ceased.

“Happy now?” …and Harry was sarcastic. 

“Swap places with me.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

“Why?”

“So she can lie down.” 

“Well no because you would still be in the way if we swapped.”

“Yeh but she can lie on my lap idiot.”

“She can lie on me.”

“She doesn’t know you!”

“Well for 1, barely ten minutes ago she said she did know me. And 2, she doesn’t know you any better!”

If this was their version of whispering, you would love to hear what volume ‘shouting’ was. There was no reply for a short while, you imagined the two brunettes locked in some intense staring match.The next time Tom spoke he sounded more defeated - almost begging. 

“If I admit you beat me at the driving range the other day will you-” 

“I KNEW IT!” Harry yelped, the volume making you jerk, eyes flying open before reflexively closing because the light was too bright. There was a little mutter of an apology, then silence again. 

Once agin you must’ve drifted off because it felt like absolutely no time had passed when a firm but gently hand on your shoulder nudged you awake. 

Sure enough the boys had swapped position, Tom now sitting along the seat from you, Harry looked a little sulky from across the way. It was Tom who was reaching over, a gentle and peaceful smile on his face.

“You wanna lie down? Don’t want you to strain your neck.” He wasn’t wrong, adding to the throbbing headache, the cloudiness in your brain and the unsettled feeling in your stomach… now your neck hurt. Just bloody great. 

Had you been your normal witty and perceptive self, you might’ve teased Tom as to why him and his brother had done a switch - but everything hurt and all you wanted to do was sleep for a hundered years. So with squinting eyes you jerkily nodded, missing how Tom chuckled to himself. The guy undid your seatbelt, then sat back to let you balance the back of your head on his thigh, looking up at the roof of the SUV. Already your eyes were closed again, you kicked off your slip-on heels and bent your legs up to lean against the backrest - occupying the position you had been sat in before hand. You felt his hands reposition the jacket, pulling it round so it was now like a blanket tucked under your chin. 

To be fair it was much more comfortable than sitting up and you weren’t even aware of how quickly you dropped back into sleep. 

Though it wasn’t quick enough to miss Harry’s very sulky sounding comment, presumably meant only for Tom’s ears. 

“Still think you’re being fucking creepy bro.” 

<33 lemme know what u think! (would make me feel less guilty for not doing all the work I rlly should be doing aha)

tagging : @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter @hollandfanficlove

[restlessfandoming]

“fever dreams” (chilumi sickfic)

this is in response to a [request] by @tiny-daisy where Lumine gets sick and Childe and co. have to take care of her! 

reverse [campfire in the snow] fic :p (SICKFIC!!!)

i wanted to write this as taking place after [family holiday] so pls read that first! ;_;

thanks for all the lovely responses <3

[Fic Masterlist]

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

“fever dreams” (family holiday pt. 3)

When Lumine woke up, her entire body ached. Why…? She sat up in bed, her head suddenly reeling. Placing a hand on her forehead to steady herself, she felt it burn under her touch. Sweat plastered her hair onto her face. 

Oh no…

Sickness wasn’t something Lumine experienced often. Being otherworldly entities and travelling excessively, she and Aether rarely came down with illnesses. 

I think I’ve been in Teyvat way too long. She and Aether had never stayed on a world for this long. I guess my body finally caught up to me...

She looked around the room for something, anything, to alleviate the pressure building in her head. The curtains were drawn, only letting in a sliver of daylight. She was in Childe’s room; she had taken to crawling into bed with him at night for warmth, and falling asleep in his welcome arms. The Harbinger was currently nowhere to be seen. 

She tried crawling out of bed, but the moment she stood, the room spun, and she found herself collapsed on the floor with a loud THUD. There was a pattering of footsteps coming towards her. 

Anthon opened the door. “I heard something fall—” He looked down to see Lumine, and his eyes widened. “Teucer! Tonia! Go get big brother, NOW!” he shouted down the hallway through the open door. He rushed to Lumine’s side. “What’s wrong?!”

Lumine let out a haggard breath. “I-I think I’m sick,” she croaked. Teucer and Tonia crowded into the room. 

“Lumine!” they cried. All three children huddled around the sick traveler, attempting to help pick her up. Anthon shooed them away, and they dashed out of the room shouting for Childe. 

“You guys shouldn’t get so close,” she said. “I don’t want you guys to get sick too.” 

“But you need help!” 

If they get sick...their time together will be ruined… “It-it’s okay. I can take care of myself…”

They heard another wave of rumbling footsteps and Childe appeared in the doorway, obviously winded. “What-what’s going on?” His eyes fell on Lumine’s slumped figure on the floor and immediately rushed to her side, nearly knocking Anthon over. “Lumine, what’s wrong?” he asked, voice rushed with worry—the most worry Lumine had ever heard from him. 

“She’s sick!” Anthon answered. 

“Sick?!” Tonia and Teucer exclaimed from the doorway. 

“I thought she was invisible!” Teucer said.

“Invincible,” both Tonia and Anthon corrected.  

Childe slipped off one of his gloves, placing his hand gently on her forehead. His fingers were ice cold compared to her burning head, and Lumine also let out a heavy sigh of relief. “You’re definitely sick,” he murmured. He picked her up off the ground—bridal style—and carried her back to bed. 

As he was adjusting the pillows and blankets around her, Tonia scooted close. “Are you going to be okay, Lumine?” Her large blue eyes were full of worry. 

Lumine looked at the children, all their eyes glistening. I’m upsetting all of the children… She gave them all a weak smile. “I’ll be okay…” She raised her arm like she was showing off her muscles. “Just watch, I’ll be up and ready to run around in no time!” 

Childe crossed his arms. “Absolutely not. You are not leaving this room until you are fully recovered.” His expression was dark; it almost scared her. “Anthon, go help your brother and sister make some tea for Lumine.” Anthon nodded, and herded Tonia and Teucer out of the room. 

Lumine let out a sigh, deflating fully now that the children were gone. “I’m sorry for ruining your time with your family…,” she whispered. “Spend time with them. I can get over this on my own.”

His jaw relaxed and he sighed as well. “I’m not going to leave you when you need help.” He sat on the edge of the bed, and brushed some of the hair away from her face. “Try to relax; we’ll take care of you.” 

“No—”

He held up a hand to stop her. “‘No’ is not an answer. I can’t have you dying before our next duel, now can I?” 

She playfully scoffed. “I bet I could still bet you, even like this.”

“I wouldn’t fight you like this,” he said. He brought his face close to hers. “I’m not a fan of unfair fights.” 

Lumine put her hands on his chest, attempting to push him away. “Stay away. You’re going to get sick too.” 

He easily took her hands into his own. “I promise, I won’t.” He pressed his lips to her fingers. “So let me take care of you.” 

It was hard to let outsiders into her life. The only person she could be vulnerable around was Aether, and now, he was gone. 

But here was Childe, slowly making his way into her heart. 

Would it be so bad to let him in?

She looked into his eyes: eyes that were soft, focused only on her. Lumine let herself relax into the pillows, and Childe smiled. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, before kissing her forehead. 

“I should be the one thanking you,” she muttered. 

“Ahem.” Anthon cleared his throat. His cheeks were red (From watching us, no doubt, Lumine thought) and he was holding a steaming cup. Tonia soon joined him with a large bowl, and Teucer held a handful of towels. 

“I brought ice water!” Tonia announced. 

“And I have towels for your head, Lumine!” Teucer said. 

“You guys did that all by yourselves?” Childe asked. 

“Of course!” Tonia answered, going to the bedside table and putting down the bowl. “We remember all the times you’ve taken care of us when we were sick, brother!”

Anthon set down his cup as well. “Here is some herbal tea. It might be bitter. But brother said the more bitter, the more healthy.”

Teucer hopped over, jumping onto the bed between Childe and Lumine, and proudly showing the towels to her. “You just put these in the water, and then on your head, and your head will feel good!” 

Lumine chuckled. “Okay, thank you, Anthon, Tonia, Teucer.” 

“Why are you sick, Lumine?” Teucer asked. 

Tonia raised her hand. “I think I know! It was probably because we were playing outside too long yesterday!” 

Anthon nodded. “And probably because we had that massive snowball fight…”

“Yes, of course,” Chlide agreed. “And poor Lumine isn’t accustomed to our Snezhnayan weather yet.”

Teucer laid down, hugging Lumine through the blanket. “I hope you get better soon,” he said sadly. “Then we can play more!” 

She patted his head hazily. “Of course.” Her eyelids were fluttering, getting heavier with sleep. 

“Okay, everyone. Time to leave Lumine so she can rest. That means no bothering her throughout the day, okay?” Childe said sternly. 

Teucer slid off the bed, rejoining Anthon and Tonia. The three children let out a resounding ‘Aww,’ then left. 

Childe dipped a towel into the ice water, wringing it out, then placing it on Lumine’s forehead. She sighed feeling its cool touch. 

“Sleep,” he told her. “I’ll be right here.” 

She nodded, already closing her eyes, and quickly drifting into a slumber. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Flying. 

Lumine was flying again, no glider necessary. 

She laughed joyfully. She had missed this feeling: this feeling of freedom and endless possibilities. 

Ahead, she saw Aether. She couldn’t believe it. She called out for her brother. 

It had been too long! She would finally be reunited with him!

He turned. 

And Lumine screamed. 

His face wasn’t there. Instead it was a dark mass—the Unknown God’s magic. The mass grew, overtaking Aether’s body. 

“NO!” she screamed, trying to fly as fast as she could to get to him. “I won’t let you disappear! Not again!” 

She was almost there. Her hand was outstretched, her fingertips almost brushing him. 

The dark mass completely took over Aether’s body. Then, it all disappeared in a blink. 

Tears flooded her eyes. “No…”

Lumine started falling, her wings gone. 

“AETHER!”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Lumine sat straight up in bed, breathing heavily. Her heart pounded, loud and fast enough that her ears drummed as well. Her hands went to her eyes, where she wiped away the tears pooling in them. 

“Bad dream?” 

Childe was sitting in an armchair opposite the bed. Lumine could see that it was dark out now, with the crack in the curtain. The fireplace next to him was lit, casting a dim, fiery glow across the room. 

Lumine caught her breath. “I—.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yes.”

He regarded her curiously, an underlying...darkness in his eyes again. He stood up, and went to take the towel off of her forehead before checking her temperature. “I think your fever is gone.”

“Good,” she said, relieved. “I do feel a lot better.” Minus that fever dream…

He nodded silently. He paused for a second. Then—

“Who’s Aether?”

Lumine froze. Damn it. She must’ve called out for him in her sleep. 

She hadn’t told Childe about the real reason she was in Teyvat; nothing about her brother had been said, nor anything about who she really was. There was no telling how people would react, especially someone as unpredictable as the Eleventh Harbinger. 

“Aether,” Childe said again, in her silence. “You yelled their name.”

Lumine looked at the fireplace. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She saw Childe’s jaw flex. “You know, as someone who works for the Fatui, I have an easy time telling when someone lies.” His eyes flickered to her, and she felt her blood go ice cold. “But I guess you still don’t trust me.” 

“No, that’s not—”

“It’s okay, I understand, really I do,” he said. His expression became something sadder—softer. “I just thought...I just...Nevermind.” He turned, walking towards the door. “Get some rest.” 

No! Lumine wanted to trust him. 

She was just...afraid. 

But what was more frightening was the fact that she was, yet again, losing someone close to her. 

She stood up quickly out of bed, trying to stop him from leaving. “Childe—” 

Her vision came crashing in on itself, and she started to fall, dizzy, and still sick. 

In a heartbeat, Childe was back at her side, catching her before she collapsed. “Careful! You’re—”

Lumine wrapped her arms tightly around him. “He’s my brother,” she whispered. The tears came back into her eyes, trailing down onto Childe’s shoulder. “Aether is my brother. Someone took him.” Her voice cracked. “I need to get him back.” 

There was a brief moment where Childe was completely still under Lumine’s embrace. Then, he hugged her back, just as tightly—if not even tighter. 

“You didn’t have to tell me,” he said quietly. “But...thank you for trusting me.” 

She pulled back from the hug, and gave him a look of gratitude. He gave her a small smile, and wiped away her tears. “We’ll find your brother. Together.”

Together...I like the sound of that…

Lumine leaned forward and kissed Childe; he joyfully kissed her back. 

After a while, he pulled back. “As much as I enjoy this, you should be in bed, resting.” 

Lumine pouted slightly. “Fine.” She started to get up on her own, but Chlide quickly swept her into a bridal carry once again. He put her gently back on the bed, helping her fix the pillows and blankets. He turned back to the armchair. 

“Wait,” Lumine said, her face filling with heat. Not sickness. Embarrassment. “Can you—Will you—ah—”

Childe raised a brow, the corner of his mouth smirking. “Stay with you?” 

Lumine only nodded once, hoping to curb her embarrassment. The previous nights, when she had crawled into his bed, were all silent exchanges—no questions or comments, just silent understanding. Now to actively ask him? So embarrassing…

Thankfully, he laughed lightly, then slid under the blankets on the other side of the bed, pulling Lumine close, and kissing her forehead. “Your face is hot; is it another fever?” he teased. 

“Shut up,” Lumine grumbled, but snuggled in closer to him. 

She eventually fell asleep again. 

And this time, there weren’t any nightmares.

[separatist-apologist]

Um can I have a part 2 to Lucien finding out about solstice? Pretty please?

You can have a part 2. I was not planning a follow up to yesterday's little sass-a-thon but apparently everyone likes bratty Elain and irreverent Lucien.

--

--

Lucien woke wondering if he’d imagined the entire night with Elain. It certainly didn’t seem real. She’d barely said one word to him for a good year and some months only to turn around and tell him to eat shit. He wondered what it said about him that he liked it. Lucien groaned, kicking the blankets off his sweaty body like a petulant child. He was tired of waking up alone and more tired still having seen the fire lurking behind his mates’ eyes.

Lucien padded to the bathroom suite, still naked from sleep. He perched on the edge of the tub, turned on the hottest water he could possibly stand, and sank into the scalding water until everything but the top of his head was visible. He was supposed to leave today, back to the mortal lands. Back to sniping with Jurian and arguing with Vassa and daydreaming about Elain when no one looked at him too closely. He still had his apartment in Velaris. Perhaps, if today went well, he’d spend a week in Feyre’s starlit city.

He took his time dressing and grooming, still more than a little irritated with Azriel from the night before no matter how his angry outburst had worked in Lucien’s favor. He certainly would not be outdone in the one arena he knew he could run circles around the male in. Lucien had always had a sense for fashion and what worked well. He didn’t need to know Elain well to know it was something she appreciated about a male.

If Rhysand was surprised to see him that morning, he gave no indication as he handed Lucien the morning paper at the breakfast table. Their silence was companiable enough, sipping coffee while Lucien tucked away tiny pieces of information about Night Court he thought might use as leverage at some point. It was nothing the High Lord wasn’t willing to risk, given how he prized information himself, but Lucien never passed up an opportunity to keep himself well informed.

He felt strangely content in that moment until Elain swept in wearing a gown of pale, shimmering gold that was altogether inappropriate for the softly snowing day around them. Rhys glanced up at her from his cup of coffee, one eyebrow raised for all Elain seemed to notice. She had tea and a scone and, without a word to either of them, sat across from Lucien. Lucien’s eyes roamed what part of her body she could see; the long-sleeved dress seemed to be made of paper and exposed her shoulders and collarbone to him. His fingers twitched around his own mug as the mating bond woke with a vengeance.

Touch her touch her touch her touch her—

“Lucien,” Rhys interrupted Lucien’s musing. Elain kept her eyes focused on the wall behind him, her big, brown eyes framed by too-long lashes. Was she wearing make up, he wondered? Or had her lips always been so pink, so—“Feyre mentioned you were considering staying for a few more days.”

Elain’s eyes focused, glancing towards the High Lord. Had Feyre said that? He certainly hadn’t made any promises outside of his own mind.

“I have some business in the city,” he agreed, well aware Rhysand must know his only business was his mate.

“Are you planning to stay here? You are welcome to, obviously.”

Lucien shook his head as color began to creep into Elain’s cheeks. What was she thinking, he wondered?

“No, in my apartment,” he replied, catching how her eyebrows raised. Did she not realize he had one?

Rhysand’s violet-colored eyes shifted to Elain, his mouth curving into a smile. “I’ll have your things sent over, then. Please, feel free to stop by for dinner if you’d like. I know Feyre very much enjoys your company.”

Yeah, yeah, Lucien thought, still thinking of how Rhysand had shut Azriel down the night before. Not out of friendship, but politics. Still, it was better than tacit approval and, in some stupid, small way Lucien could appreciate the shrewdness.

Elain excused herself leaving Lucien to finish his breakfast and dress for the cold before making the trek towards his apartment. He’d try at dinner, he told himself. It would be easier to corner her somewhere alone, to let her lobby insults at him and, perhaps, kiss her on the mouth if she held still long enough for him to capture her face.

Lucien turned the lock to his apartment to find two things wildly out of place. His bags were sitting just inside the foyer next to a long, silver cape that was too feminine and small to belong to him, hung on the hooks beside the door. Just at the end of the hall, Lucien saw Elain in that same golden gown, arms crossed over her chest.

“I didn’t know you had an apartment,” she accused as he unwound his scarf.

“You never asked,” he reminded her patiently, his blood thrumming at the sight of her in his apartment. He could practically taste the argument floating between them.

Give me your worst.

“Must I do everything?” She asked him, arms crossed over her chest. He had to look away; she’d inadvertently caused her breasts to swell beneath her arms and Lucien was struck dumb at the sight.

“Not everything, no,” he replied, walking to the living room where she waited. “But perhaps something might be nice.”

She scoffed and Lucien dropped onto the cream-colored loveseat, stretching out his long legs as she watched her from the corners of his eye.

“I don’t owe you—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he interrupted, bored. “Why are you here, again?”

Because it was her, after all, standing in his apartment. She shifted, her boots still wet from the snow. She’d created a little wet spot on the hard wood beneath her feet. He would normally have cringed at that, but it was Elain, if she wanted to ruin her floors, who was he to stop her?

She bit her bottom lip. “To tell you how hideous you looked at breakfast this morning.”

Lucien laughed as he ran a hand down his chest. Elain’s eyes followed the movement. “Liar.”

She scoffed. “I’m surprised you fit in this little apartment at all, given the size of your ego.”

He couldn’t help himself as he leaned forward, carefully watching her expression. “You know, Elain, they say it takes one to know one.”

Her mouth dropped open again as she stood, stunned into silence for a moment. “You find me ugly?” She asked, dropping her arms to her side.

“Impossibly ugly,” he agreed, the lie rolling right off his tongue. Her cheeks flushed as he took a step towards her. He was going to kiss her, he decided. “And ill mannered.”

“It is your manners that are offensive,” she retorted hotly. “Though not nearly offensive as your face.”

Lucien hesitated, surprised by how her words stung a bit. It was a game and yet…she’d touched on something he’d privately feared from the moment Amarantha gouged out his eye. He could still recall, in the early days, how people recoiled when they saw the scarring, how even now people stared, surprised at the brutality etched into his face. He’d spent more than one night wondering if Elain too found him abhorrent to look at.

He arched a brow, his heart hammering in his chest. He didn’t know what he’d do if she truly thought him ugly. It would wound him far more than anything, short of a flat-out rejection of the bond. “Oh?”

Her eyes drifted towards his mouth. Lucien blinked, some of his fear ebbing. “Disgusting,” she murmured, inching closer. He held himself exactly where he was despite his muscles screaming in protest, demanding he yank her into him and kiss her senseless. “The ugliest man I’ve ever seen.”

“Liar,” he told her again. She blinked, head tilted, eyes half-lidded, her lips parted ever so slightly. This was what had gotten Azriel in trouble, wasn’t it? This moment, right here. He suddenly felt immense sympathy for the male. Lucien was also rooted in place, desperate to touch her, too.

“I know,” she whispered. Her eyes fluttered closed the moment he reached for her face, holding her just as she was so he could kiss her. Words failed him the moment their lips touched, the world melting into nothingness. Whatever he’d thought, however he imagined that moment paled in comparison to the real thing. She was soft, her lips sweet. Every single piece of her seemed to radiate an invisible heat his blood recognized by contact alone.

Mate. Mine. His body sang, urging him to take things further, to strip her of her clothes and mark her with his scent so thoroughly no other male could get within a mile of her without smelling him, too. He had to stop himself, unsure what she wanted.

“You’re a shitty kisser,” he told her, forehead pressed to her own. Elain giggled, the sound ringing through his chest.

“You’re so rude,” she responded with a sigh. “How can anyone stand to be in your presence?”

“And yet here you are,” he reminded her, poking her in the stomach. “In my apartment.”

She looked around, her eyes taking in his furniture, his shelves of books, his artwork. “Why don’t you stay more often?”

He shrugged, unable to meet her gaze. “There is little for me to do here.” That was partially true. Why torture himself and sit around waiting on a female who had no interest in him? He wasn’t that much of a glutton for punishment. Elain stepped away, walking towards the wall length windows and pushing back the curtain. Gray, snowy clouds did little to hide the cheery day around them as fat snowflakes were carried along in a winter wind.

“I have been cruel,” she said after a moment. Lucien came up behind her, resting his hands on her delicate shoulders.

“Perhaps. But not without cause.”

She blinked, twisting her neck to look up at him. “It’s just a lot…even now.”

He nodded. “I could help, you know. I’m not your enemy.”

“What kind of help are you offering?” She asked as she turned around, letting him twine his arms around her body. His heart stuttered for a minute. Pretty, she was so pretty—

“Whatever help you’d like,” he managed to choke out. Elain smiled slyly.

“What if the help I want has nothing to do with being made?”

He was going to die, he thought. He cleared his throat. “Could you be more specific?”

She was mocking him. “I often struggle with the laces of my dresses, for example.” She gestured towards the back of her gown, neatly laced with a golden ribbon. Easily undone, he thought, his fingers twitching. It would take one pull to have her dress pooled at her feet. He brought his face closer to hers, well aware that his thoughts were likely not well aligned with what she really needed. Time. Space. Room to get to know not just him but herself.

“Sounds like you need a friend,” he murmured, brushing his lips across hers before dropping his arms and stepping away. She huffed a sigh.

“Do you treat all ladies so poorly?” She demanded. Lucien was back on the couch, legs stretched out as he willed himself to calm down.

“Only the ones I like,” he replied with a grin. Elain plopped down beside him and took his hand, much as she’d done the night before.

“Lucien?”

He’d never tire of hearing her say his name. “Yes, Elain?” She scooted a little closer, her eyes locked on his. She was looking at the scar, he realized. Panic flooded into his throat.

“I lied when I said you were ugly,” she confessed. He exhaled the breath he’d been holding. “And I like the scars. You’re beautiful.”

He reached for her chin, caressing her sweet face. Lowering his mouth to hers, Lucien told her, “Ah, well. It takes one to know one, now doesn’t it?”

[moonculus]

andromeda and circinus - dream x reader

angst

warnings: weapons, slight nsfw (kissing), manipulation, mentions of death

pronouns used: they/them

part I: here

.+*cause if i could see your face once more, i’d die a happy man, i’m sure*+.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

II.

you snuck through the portal after tommy, making your way inconspicuously through the prison. you could tell sam thought something was up; he was continuously looking around himself. every time you would hear from tommy slurp down another potion, you prayed sam wouldn’t hear.

as you neared the main holding cell, your palms began to sweat. was this really what you wanted to do? when you saw those emerald eyes, you would you even be able to go through with it?

“clay, please. these are your friends! they’re just children,” you begged.

you two had been at this all evening. dream wouldn’t tell you his plan, all you knew was it was going to reign absolute destruction on the smp.

“no one is innocent. you should know that better than anyone,” he sneered.

you were taken aback by his statement. what did he mean by that? what was he hiding from you?

“i’m not the first person to say this, and i certainly won’t be the last. you’ve changed, clay. you’re not the sweet boy i’ve always known. he would never treat his friends this way. he would never treat me this way-“

“it’s dream! my name is dream. who are you to tell me i’ve changed? you know nothing about me,” he shouted.

your stoic expression faltered for a second, but you quickly regained your composure.

“if that’s how you want to play, dream, then so be it. but, mark my words. when all else fails, i won’t be there to pick up the pieces for you. i will do everything in my power to make sure you never cause harm to my friends again.”

“alright, ghostbur. move with the platform.”

you hoped tommy was following you as you stepped behind the ghost, heeding sam’s instructions.

the infamous white mask came into view. dream’s arms were crossed against his chest, leaning on the barrier with intrigue. you could’ve sworn he knew you were there- you played it off as a figment of your imagination. your adrenaline clouding your senses.

you were so close, mere feet away from the end of your mission. this was it. this was your final destination. you were meant to kill your best friend. alas, not all wishes are able to be granted.

“STOP! who’s there!?”

you slowly turned to your side, catching a glimpse of tommy’s axe. your heart dropped. you still had a good five minutes left with your invisibility, you could kill him yourself given the chance.

ghostbur was clearly panicking as tommy stepped back on the platform. it all happened too fast, dream had his arm to ghostbur, threatening his life if he wasn’t let free. your weapon was at the ready, but you couldn’t draw it without drawing attention to your presence. and then, the lava curtain began to fall.

your heart stopped as you lunged forward, sword unsheathed. you were seconds too late.

WilburSoot was slain by Dream.

tommy’s cries were drowned out as the sizzling of the lava curtain stopped moving. you slowly turned around to see the masked man drumming his fingers against his arm.

“who’s there?”

you stayed silent. your final invisibility potion was wearing thin. you could start to see the very faint outline of your fingers.

“i saw your blade. i hope you haven’t come to try and kill me. everyone has been unsuccessful. you won’t make history today.”

the last bits of your invisibility potion wore off. you stepped forwards into the cell, your sword held tightly in your dominate hand.

“it's been a long time, dream.”

you could see his arms tense a bit, but almost immediately it was replaced by his usual powerful stance.

“what, after all this time, no clay?”

“only your friends call you clay, no?”

“ouch. you know, you haven’t visited me once since i’ve been here. that hurts, y/n. truly.”

“take off the mask and maybe i’ll believe it.”

“ever so cunning,” he stretched, leaning against the wall.

“ever so maniacal.”

dream scoffed and pushed himself off the wall. he took three long strides to you, your faces near enough to share breaths. if there wasn’t a lifeless mask acting as a barrier between you two. you refused to show him any fear as he looked over you.

“i’ve missed you,” he began.

“don’t. don’t say that.”

“why not?”

“because you don’t mean it, dream.”

he reached a hand behind his head, unclasping the white mask and letting it fall to the floor. those terribly familiar jade eyes searched your face. his dirty blonde hair was tousled, his boyish features gone- replaced by angular bones. and those faint freckles, your kryptonite.

“wait, wait! wait for me.”

“oh, hurry up, you slow poke,” you shouted behind you.

“not everyone had the training you had!”

“no excuses!”

you flopped onto the grassy hill, the clear night sky painting your features lighter. the boy laid beside you, staring upwards. you let your gaze wander to the side, where he was already studying your face.

“you know, your freckles look like a constellation.”

“oh, really?” he smiled. “so, you could say i’m your universe, huh?”

you rolled your eyes, scoffing. “i said a constellation. not the entire solar system, genius-”

dream caught your final words with his lips on yours, his hand gently placed on your jaw. you barely moved, taken aback by the sudden demonstration of affection. he pulled away, a slight smile on his lips which immediately dropped when he saw your confusion.

he abruptly sat up, as did you. “jeez, i’m so sorry. i-i didn’t mean to- i just got carried away and-”

he was the one to be caught off guard when you slammed your lips against his with gusto, the two of you lying back. you hovered over him, teeth clacking as the both of you smiled into the kiss. you pulled away from your friend. a small pout sat on his lips as he gripped your hips.

“you can be my milky way, if i can be your andromeda.”

“god, no. yours sounds so much cooler!”

“fine. you can be my circinus.”

“circinus and andromeda.”

“andromeda and circinus.”

“i’ve missed you, andromeda,” he repeated.

“dream...”

“i know why you’ve come here. if your face is the last i’ll see, i’ll die a happy man.”

“no, no. you’ve caused my friends so much pain- you’ve caused me so much pain!” you shouted, backing away from him. you thought you saw true pain in his eyes, but you couldn’t decipher his lies anymore.

“you’ve lied to me. you don’t understand how many lives you’ve ruined, dream.”

“i do, and i’m so sorry about what i’ve done to you.”

“stop lying!”

“i would never lie to you. not anymore.”

you took a second to look at him and breathe. this wasn’t him. this was a shell of the man you once knew.

“what happened to you, clay?” your voice broke as tears began to run down your face.

his pain filled expression was replaced with one of minor rage as his chest rose and fell fast.

“you don’t get to feel pity for me. you did this! you did this to me.”

“clay, listen to yourself! you broke me. you only care about power. where is the boy who kissed me on that hill? where is the one who i grew up alongside? where is the boy who taught me how to love?”

“dead! he’s dead. and you need to leave.”

“look around, dream. there’s no where for me to go.”

dream launched forwards, his hand gripping your weapon and tugging it from its sheath. you fought him, but he had the upper hand. he drew your own weapon on you, forcing you to the ground as he placed your blade under your chin. his eyes held almost no emotion, but you swore you could see them watering.

“one of us isn’t leaving this cell alive, y/n.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[eideticmemory]

TWO GHOSTS III | MATTHEW G. GUBLER

It’s been 15 years. 15 years has to be long enough . . . right? Read PART 2.

Set 15 years after the end of Ever Since New York, so give that a read first!

Word Count: 3.9k.

Warning: Usual angst, porn, and poor communication amongst characters.

SOUNDTRACK:

Closure - Taylor Swift

Demolition Lovers - My Chemical Romance

Bang the Doldrums - Fall Out Boy

It’s a cliché.

Your life, certainly.

And the saying, as it goes, that the show must go on.

You’re blindsided. You’re a little nauseated, and irritated. You’re looking at Matthew, you’re thinking no one’s told him what’s going on, either.

But the two of you make eye contact, for just a few seconds, then his eyes rake down your body, pausing to take you in. Your dress, black against your skin, tight against your body. You hold his gaze as it returns to your face — your lips, your cheekbones, your eyes.

And a mutual understanding is formed. Silently, through nothing but an exchange of looks.

“After you,” Matthew smiles, politely, holding his arm out in front of his torso.

“Wow,” you smile, your voice kind, formal, as you pass him by. “How professional of you.”

He can’t help but chuckle to himself. He looks down, shakes his head, and he puts his hands in his pockets. You can feel his eyes running over your skin like a laser, tracing the shape of your spine, and you nearly tip over in your heels.

Ramona goes to follow you, and Matthew’s aligns beside her, working up the urge to speak.

“[y/n] didn’t . . .” he whispers, pausing to lick his lips, point up ahead at you you trailing down the hall. “She didn’t agree to this, did she?” he asks Ramona.

“Look,” Ramona stops, turns to Matthew, holds her palm up to silence him. It works. He stops, his words, his footsteps, come to halt. “I don’t know the story, but . . . I don’t think I’m supposed to talk to you. So . . . anything you want to . . . ask about or say to [y/n], then — then, you can say it to her yourself.”

And she quickly scurries away to catch up with you. She pauses, turns around, tells him, “I love Criminal Minds, by the way.” And she continues on her way.

Matthew laughs.

You’re already standing, set and center, ready to walk on stage on command. You look out at the crowd, each individual face. The bright lights. And you hate to be dramatic, but you’d give anything to not be here right now. Seriously, anything.

“Hey,” Ramona murmurs, walking up behind you. “You alright?”

“It’s too late for me to get out of this, isn’t it?” You ask.

“. . . a little bit,” she nods.

Matthew joins, taking his place behind the curtain, waiting to go on stage. You look over at him, let out a deep sigh.

“Okay,” you shrug, look forward. “Let’s do this, then.”

There’s an art to every interview. To being a polite, and attentive, and humble guest. For 30 minutes, for an hour, forever. It seems to be muscle memory for both you and Matthew. You flash your smiles, and they’re wide, they’re bright, they’re pretty, and completely, utterly inauthentic.

You put on a show for the crowd. You’re not an actress, but anyone who thinks you’re enjoying yourself has been fooled. And that’s enough for you.

You laugh along as questions bounce back and forth, the interviewer leaned over his desk as he speaks to the both you. There’s a gravitational pull that fights and fights to make you look at Matthew. It catches you once, and the two of you awkwardly avoid eye contact by averting your heads from one another.

Your eyes flicker over to the timer offstage, counting down the minutes until the interview was officially off air. It wasn’t until twenty minutes were left on the clock, that the questions became, a bit . . . pushy, to say the least.

“So, you and Matthew went to college together, is that right?”

“Yes,” you nodded, only looking to Matthew for a second of acknowledgement, before returning your glimmering smile to the host. “Yes, we did.”

“Were you two friends?” he asks. “Now, I don’t know why, but I see you both being in very different cliques,” he laughs, the audience joining.

You giggle, nodding, “Um, yeah, yes, I would say we were friends.”

“And what would you say, Matthew?”

“Eh, I’d say we were acquaintances,” he jokes, giving a shrug in response.

Everyone but you finds it funny. You cross your legs, passive aggressively, biting down on your bottom lip.

“Oh, so she was in with the cool crowd, is that what it was?”

“Hm . . .” Matthew hums. “Define cool?”

Your laugh is dry, quiet, drowned out by the laughter of the crowd. Your eyes are glued to your shoes, your feet swaying back and forth on your heel.

“But in all honesty . . .” Matthew adds. He leans over, puts his arm around you. It was the one thing to make you lose all sense of clairty, lose your solid ground. You shuffled in your seat, awkwardly, straining your face just to keep your smile in place. “If I could describe knowing [y/n] in college, in one, single word, it’d probably be . . .” he turns his head to you, slowly, “. . . exhausting.”

His voice comes out in a joking manner, and it prompts another uproar of laughter, which drowns in your ears as you gaze at Matthew. Your face is laced with a numb, distant kind of hurt.

Fifteen more minutes on the clock.

And you spend every one of them with a fire burning in your belly. Burning, and burning, until it filled your entire body.

Ramona runs up to you the second you step off stage, happy, beaming, “That went well! You were composed, funny, you handled his nosey ass questions with, like, no visible reaction.”

Continuing down the hallway, you focus on the steps ahead of you, counting down to the moment you return to the sanctuary of your dressing room.

“And the way you subtly promoted the show without being too pretentious, I mean, very well done. I — oh —“

She’s cut off by the door slamming in her face, as you disappear into the private room, leaving yourself to find peace. Stability.

“. . . I’m still proud of you!” Ramona shouts through the barrier. You sigh, close your eyes, rest your back against the cold wood. “I’m going to call you a car, I’ll be back!”

It’s not until you hear her retreating footsteps, that you take a seat at the vanity set to the side of the room. You put your head in your hands, unable to look at yourself in the mirror. Unable to do anything but sit, and feel.

Ramona weighs on your mind, and you can’t seem to shake the guilt of sending her away, so cold, so unfair. You huff, and rise to your feet. They’re swollen, and achey, from the pair of heels encapsulating them, but you push through. You march up to the door, and as soon as you swing it open, you walk down the hallway.

“Ro?” you call. “Ramona!”

And as if an invisible force knocked you back, jilted you in your steps, you stop. You turn your body, looking to the door at your left. It’s a magnetic attraction. You know he’s in there. Hell, you know he could walk out at any moment. But you stay, stuck in front of the barrier like a deer in headlights.

“No,” you whisper to yourself, shaking your head. “No . . . “

You walk away. You make the decision to walk away. But you only manage to make it a few feet . . . before you’re turning back around.

Your knuckles rasp on the wooden door, and you cross your arms as you await an answer. When Matthew comes to the door, the first thing you notice is that his tie has been removed, the top buttons of his shirt undone. Your breath catches in your throat, but only for a moment.

He exhales, “Haven’t we used all of our time for today?” he quips, tilting his head as he looks at you.

“I just want you to know that this is not . . . fair,” you tell him. “I have been polite and understanding, and you have been . . . a dick.”

He stands up straight, physically taken aback by your words, and the venom with which you speak them. “Have I?”

“Yes. You are being petty, and mean, and dragging this out for no, damn, reason, Matthew Gubler.”

“I didn’t know there was anything to drag out,” he shrugs. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he goes to close the door, right in your face. But you catch it with your elbow, force your way in.

You slam the door behind you, standing firm on your feet, firm in your anger. “No, no. You don’t get to treat me like this. Whatever is bothering you, whatever issue you have with me, that doesn’t give you the right to slam the door in my face, and disregard the fact that you have been an utter asshole!”

“Oh,” he backs away, snidely clicking his tongue at you. “We’re getting into a screaming match now?”

“What the fuck is your deal, Matthew?” you seeth. “You’re mad, you’re hurt, I get it —“

“I’m not mad, I’m not hurt. I’m . . . annoyed, more than anything.”

“Oh, please,” you scoff, crossing your arms. “The way I see it, there’s two options, here. Either, you’re still mad, and you want to hurt me. Or, you want to fuck me so badly, you’re just making yourself look stupid!”

A lot has changed. Too many things to count on one hand.

But the way Matthew’s eyes darken . . .

The way the wire snaps.

It hasn’t changed, at all. His irises are still as dark and intense, as they always were when they were focused on you. Dreamy, and powerful. Almost, hypnotic.

It’s hard to tell exactly who kisses who, first.

So, we’ll call it a mutual decision.

Your bodies collide, fall in sync with one another almost automatically, as you hold his face in your hands. His skin feels different, covered by a layer of scruff. But his mouth tastes the same.

Addicting.

You drop your jaw, let his tongue slide between your lips. He moans into the kiss, and his hands grip onto your waist, pulling you closer. Closer. Until you can feel his heartbeat against your chest. You offer no resistance as he sweeps you off your feet, instead wrapping your legs around his waist.

Your back slams into the wall, and you gasp, tangle your hands in Matthew’s hair. It curls around your fingers, and he hums at the sensation of your fingertips grazing his scalp. His hands make their way underneath the hem of your dress, maneuvering up your thighs, onto your ass.

He pauses to put his forehead against yours, watch the drool drip down your lips. “You want it as badly as I do . . .” he whispers, heaving as his breath reels from the kiss.

“Shut up.”

“Don’t you?”

“You’re ruining it, jackass,” you spit.

“Mm, that’s what I thought,” he grins into another kiss, catching your bottom lip between his teeth. His hand wraps around the elastic band of your panties, tightly, and he uses minimal strength to rip the fabric apart. It pops against your leg, and you squeak out loud, causing Matthew to chuckle against your lips.

Your dress rides up your thighs, bunching up around your waist, while your hands work quickly to undo Matthew’s belt. His stomach is flushed, and warm under the thin material of his shirt.

He grunts into his mouth as you free him from his boxers, stroke him in your palm with a familiar and steady rhythm. He could’ve fallen to his knees right then, right there. But he didn’t. Because, God, he’s going to fuck you if it was the last thing he ever does. He’s going to do it well, and he’s going to make it quick.

Pinning you to the wall, he spits on her fingers, covering them in his saliva and reaching down to touch you between your legs. You whimper into his mouth, pleading, begging for it.

Matthew pulls away from the kiss only to watch your face, to see your eyes roll back as he pushes into you. Again. For the first time in so long. Your entire body, just, relaxes, and you melt into each other, weak already.

His hips push forward, forcefully, until he’s buried inside of you, and you can’t help but let out a loud whine. He puts a hand over your mouth, his forehead against yours, and begins to move your bodies in this slow, steady rhythm. Your back is moving up and down against the wall, and your moans are aligning with every one that comes from Matthew’s mouth.

The two of you can’t keep your eyes off each other, as though neither of you can believe this is happening. That you’re here. With each other. Bonded. Chained. Like there was no amount of fate, or time, or distance that could keep you apart.

Matthew buries his face in your neck, trying to contain his high pitched groans. He absentmindedly starts to increase his pace, encouraged by the way your nails rake down his back. You rest your head back against the wall, you eyes screwed shut and your mouth wide open. His fingers slide between your lips, and muffle the loud squeaks that won’t seem to stop.

And you’re not sure if it’s him, the way he’s only gotten better, and manages to hit a golden spot inside of you with every thrust. Or, if it’s the fact that you haven’t gotten laid in a while. But when Matthew takes his hand away from his mouth, starts to rub your clit, you yelp.

“Shhh,” he cooes, but follows his soft order with a roll of his hips.

Your body is completely rested, dependent, on his. He cradles you in his arms as his hips contain to move, his fingers work tirelessly on your clit, and he moans in your ear.

You don’t have to tell him. He already knows. He remembers. How your thighs tighten around his waist when you’re close. How you mumble incoherently, and try to catch your breath but it only comes out at jumbled gasps. He feels you tighten around his cock, your nails digging into his back and your fingers pulling at his hair.

He supports you as your body crumbles from the pressure, releases it all in one big, intense rush of energy that leaves your body tense and on edge. You hold him close as you tremble, muffle your whimpers against his shoulder. Sliding out of you, he uses your inner thighs to bring himself there with you. You have to lay against the wall, as you watch him in a daze. Your vision blurry, blurry, until you focused on him.

Sweat beads on his forehead, soaking the hair on his face, and the collar of his shirt. He bites down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. And when he comes, his jaw drops, but no noise comes out. He’s silent, and beautiful, and his face scrunches up in the exact same way it always did. He makes a mess on your thighs, your stomach, and stares you in the eye while he does it.

Matthew lowers you to the ground, holding your hips as you plant your feet on the floor. You stare at each other for a moment, out of breath, and strangely calm, both of you fixing your clothes.

You advert your eyes, distracting yourself by correcting the wrinkles in your dress. You reach over, grab some tissues to wipe yourself off with. Silence fills the room, and it’s deafening.

Nothing’s changed. Nothing’s different. The past is still the past, you’re still you, Matthew’s still him. And the remnants of who you two used to be still hang in the air, haunting. Dangerous.

You push your hair out of your face, clear your throat as you toss the tissues into the trash, look Matthew in the face, “We done here?”

You move around him, heading to the door without looking back.

“[y/n],” he calls. You turn around, your hand on the door knob. Matthew steps towards you, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You don’t have to treat me like, some situation that needs to be handled . . .” he purses his lips, “I’ll be alright.”

You sigh at him, at a loss for words. And you leave.

Ramona nearly collides into you as she rushes down the hall, exclaiming as she stops in her tracks. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you!” She catches a glimpse of Matthew’s door, her jaw dropping as she connects the dots. “I —“ she stutters. “Did you —?”

“Let’s go,” you command.

“But, I —“

“Let’s go.”

So you went. It felt cowardly, and . . . wrong. Wrong, simply because of Matthew. His broken voice. The memory of his eyes, and the sadness that glossed over them as you left.

After situating yourself in the backseat, you lock the car door. Out of some irrational fear . . . that, if given the chance, you’ll hop out. Rush back to Matthew, take him in your arms, and never let him go. Never is a long time, but not enough to make up for the years that have gone by.

You sigh to yourself, rub your tired eyes as the car begins to move, begins on its journey to take you home. “Actually . . .” you say to the driver., leaning forward. “Can you take me somewhere else, instead?”

You knock, forcefully, on the door in front of you, after trekking up the stairs to the luxury apartment. Out of breath, you huff, and add another tireless knock upon the door.

“It’s open!”

You furrow your eyebrows, walk in to see Claire and Roni sitting on the couch. They give you welcoming smiles, popping snacks into their mouth.

“Are you trying to wake the kid, dude?” Claire asks you, causing Roni to chuckle under her breath.

“Sorry, I . . .” you apologize. “I thought you guys were asleep.”

“We’re up,”Claire shrugs. “Want a snack? We’ve got those tropical gummies that you really like.”

You stare for a moment, inhale, exhale, look to Claire, “You knew I was coming . . .”

“Oh, yeah,” she nods. “We saw the interview. You were expected.”

“Ugh,” you groan, putting your face in your hands, out of nothing but pure exhaustion.

Claire sighs, sadly, knowing you so well, that it’s evident to her just how much your struggling. How, once again, your body is being weighed down by a heavy heart.

“You said you’re alright here, babe?” Roni whispers to her, and Claire responds with a gentle nod.

“We’re fine, mama,” she tells her, following her words with a soft kiss on the lips. “I’ll be down soon.”

“Okay,” and with that, Roni leaves the two best friends to themselves, occupying herself by going to check on Dorthy.

Claire pats the newly available spot beside her, and you shuffle your feet over the couch, plopping down with a hum of relief.

“Here,” Claire says, picking up a pack of gummies, handing them to you, “Have a snack.”

You take the packet, and tear it open, not hesitating to pop the candy in your mouth. You chew anxiously, obnoxiously.

Claire is patient. Of all things, Claire is kind. And she waits for you to process. Your feelings, your thoughts, your words, and when you finally, finally open your mouth to speak, she just smiles. It’s as though everything comes out in one breathe. A film made in one take. You use all your energy to rant and mumble and whine tonight’s events.

Even the dirty details. They’re important to the story.

“And I just left . . .” you trail off. “What else was I supposed to do?”

Claire looks at you for a long time. She goes to speak. She stops herself. She puts her finger to her lips, contemplating. Goes to speak again. Stops herself, again.

You furrow your eyebrows at her, “Is this like, charades or something?” you ask.

“No . . . I . . .” she stutters. “I . . . you fucked him?”

“It was, more mutual,” you shrug.

“So, now what?”

“I, I don’t know? I have no clue.”

“But you want to be with Matthew?”

“No . . . I . . . I don’t know.”

“Well, does he want to be with you?”

“I don’t know.”

“[y/n] . . .” she sighs. “Don’t you think . . . maybe, you and Matthew are a little too . . . big . . . for this?”

You tilt your head, “Big?”

“Old!” Claire shouts. “Old! You’re old! You’re too old for this!”

“Wha —“ you stutter. “I —“

“Look,” she pauses, turns her body to you, and takes your hands in her grasp. “I was here before Matthew, I was here after Matthew. So . . . I’m, I’m telling you, as the person who watched it happen once . . . don’t drag yourself through hell again. If Matthew’s the one, if he’s who you’ve been waiting for, if it’s always been him, then go. Run to him. He’s here.”

And for no reason at all, you could’ve cried. Tears brim your eyes, and you have to blink them away. “Um . . .” you reply. “Can I crash here tonight.”

Claire sighs, rests her chin on her hand. “Of course.”

“Cool . . . can I borrow some pajamas?”

“Yes.”

You nod, rise from the couch, prepared to walk yourself to the guest room. You turn, nervously, back to Claire and she looks up at you. “Do you, um, do you have any underwear I can borrow, too?”

She purses her lips at you.

“Okay, yeah, nevermind, I’ll go commando.”

So you slept without any underwear. And you forced yourself not to dream of him. Not to allow yourself to be haunted by memories, by pain.

But when you closed your eyes, he was all you could see. The way he looked, and talked, and smelled fifteen years ago. The way you slept beside him for the very last time, and had convinced yourself it would not be the last time.

It would not be the last time.

He made you laugh so hard in your dream that you woke up, and your heart broke as you awake in a dark and empty room. You reach over, turn on the bedside lamp, and rub your tired eyes. You only managed to sleep until three in the morning. And Matthew, and Claire’s words, were the first thing on your mind.

He wasn’t hard to find.

You have your strings. And you, sneakily, tiredly, in a haze of exhaustion, pull all of them. It’s insane, and as you drag yourself out of bed, you ask yourself what you’re doing. Why you’re doing it. What is the point?

But it’s him. And he’s here. And he won’t be for much longer, and he’s only ten minutes away.

The car is able to pick you up and get you to the hotel in under twenty minutes. You’re dressed in a pair of sweats and a cozy sweatshirt, well aware of how crazy you look, well aware of how crazy you’re behaving. And unable to stop yourself.

You march into the building, your feet moving on autopilot to guide you to the elevator, up to the ninth floor. You catch your breath as you move up each level, and lose it again the moment the doors open. You push yourself forward, follow the arrows to his room.

You round the corner, and he calls out, “Hey!”

You smile. Matthew happy to see you.

No.

Not you.

You step back, stopped in your tracks as the girl giggles in his face, holds onto his waist.

“Surprise!” she exclaims, the two of them standing outside his hotel door.

“What are you doing here? I was going to pick you up,” he says.

“Call me impatient, but I couldn’t wait to see you,” she places a soft kiss to his lips, smiles at Matthew. He smiles back.

But that smiles quickly fades when he turns his head, sees you standing there. Matthew is not happy to see you.

“[y/n] . . .”

TAGLIST:

@muffin-cup

@pinkdiamond1016

@spencersbed

@safertokiss

@calm-and-doctor

@spencerreid-mgg

@reidsconverse

@reidemandweep

[bluefirewrites]

Hc - Luke gets in trouble at school and forced to join the drama club latest production and try out , where he ends up getting the lead along with Julie (who they know of each other through there moms friendship. But the more they spend time together even outside school the more they fall for each other. And finally get together (sorry for the rambling sometimes have trouble writing what i want to say )

I had this whole response typed out before my computer crashed and it got lost in the void. 

I’m gonna mince some details just in case it happens again, but I love this concept. 

Luke’s a bad boy on campus. It’s hard to get him engaged in anything school-related, but the teachers just know that he’s got untapped potential, especially Ms. Harrison, the theater teacher. 

The band is on Luke’s mind all day every day. And he gets in trouble at school a lot because of it- borrowing the instruments from the music room for a quick jam session, pasting their gig posters over Carrie Wilson’s student body president ones, parking their band van in the teacher’s lot (it’s a lot closer!). 

But Luke’s latest scheme lands him in hot water with the principal. 

He thought it was a great idea to hijack lunchtime and turn it into an impromptu Sunset Curve concert. He and the boys hid on the stage over looking the cafeteria and they even bribed the sound tech to help them out. 

And in the middle of lunch, they burst through the curtains and started jamming out for everyone. 

And Luke may have gotten carried away. 

He may have jumped onto the nearest lunch table, treating it like his own personal runway, hopping and skipping over people’s lunches.

He may have miscalculated the space and so when he slid into a power stance, he may have spilled orange juice onto some poor girl’s homework.

He didn’t have time to apologize to the fuming girl before he’s up and running, inciting the now crowd of students into a riot with his music. 

Let’s just say that tables were tipped over, food was everywhere, and Principal Lessa was not happy. 

It was a success in Luke’s eyes. 

But then Lessa pulls him into the office and oddly enough, for Luke, Ms. Harrison is present. That’s where they give him the ultimatum: they suspend him and the boys for their little stunt, or they have to audition/ partake in Ms. Harrison’s spring musical. 

And Luke bawks at the idea. Because they’re a rock band! They don’t do show tunes!

But he takes the deal, mainly so his parents don’t get any more pissed at him. 

The boys all show up to auditions, and apart from Alex, the rest of them aren’t super into it. 

He sits down in the auditorium, waiting of his turn, when he notices the next person up for audition- Julie Molina.

He sorta knows her. Their moms are in book club together. When she auditions, Luke notices two things- 1) her voice is killer and 2) the script she’s holding is stained with orange juice. 

Whoops. 

She hops down the stage and catches his eye and she glares at him. And given the round of applause and Ms. Harrisons’s praise- Julie Molina seems to be the queen of the theater department. And Luke managed to have pissed her off. 

Great...

Then he goes up to audition, all ready to half-ass it because really doesn’t want to be a part of the play. So when it’s his turn, Luke doesn’t take it seriously- he purposefully flubs the words, he doesn’t act from the script- instead reciting a monologue from the Simpsons that made everyone, but Julie, laugh. 

Ms. Harrison only nods, and notifies him that the cast list would be put up at the end of the day. 

Luke, thinking he tanked it, doesn’t bother to stop in front of the cast list posted like everyone else does at the end of the school day. But when he tries to pass, everyone’s eyes are on him, including his friends’. 

“Um... Luke,” Alex says from his spot in front of the bulletin board, “You might wanna see this,” 

He pushes past the crowd until he can read the cast list. 

Oh no. 

He made the lead. 

Luke’s confused. He thought he put on the worst audition ever?

“Congratulations,” he hears from beside him and he sees Julie, arms crossed, not the least bit happy. 

And that’s when he reads the rest of the cast list- Julie’s the other lead. 

They’re going to be love interests. 

When it’s time for rehearsals, it’s an utter disaster. Luke’s never been in any production ever, so being part of a team, that’s not just him and the boys, is throwing him off. 

He can sing yeah- but he dancing? Acting? Not his forte. And Julie knows this, and gets so frustrated with him whenever they rehearse a scene together. 

But when it comes time to the duet- oddly enough, they sound great together. Amazing even. Luke wants to say that ever since hearing how their voices complimented each other’s, Julie eases up on him a little. 

Some weeks go by, and slowly but surely, Luke and the boys are warming up to theater culture. Alex, Reggie, and Bobby seem to be having a good time learning their parts and making new friends with the cast and crew, and pretty soon Luke and Julie form a tentative truce. 

One day, Luke closes his locker and gets spooked by Julie leaning beside him. 

“Hey,” 

“Hi?” They don’t talk during school. Only at rehearsal. So this is new. 

“How much of the songs have you memorized?” Okay, right down to it, Luke thinks. But it’s Julie- theater is her life. 

“All of them, don’t worry,” 

“And your lines?” 

“...” 

“I thought so. You called my character by Kayla’s character’s name. Do you even know what this play is about?” 

“Of course I do,” 

“We’ll see about that,” Julie then scribbles something on a piece of paper and hands it to him, “My place. After school. We will be running lines,” 

Luke starts going to Julie’s almost every other day to go through lines, and also because he needs all the help he can get when it comes to acting. 

Some days are good, others- well, are left to be desired, but Luke tries to get Julie to loosen up and he coaxes her into taking breaks and going out to eat during their one-on-one sessions. And he starts to find himself actually enjoying her company, and she with him- even if she’s reluctant to admit it. 

But over time, Luke starts to get a schedule down, now invested in the musical, he makes sure he gets to school on time, gets through his classes, rehearse, and days when he’s not rehearsing- he’s with Julie, working on their stuff. 

Luke’s mom notices a change in him, and even though it’s more music stuff that he seems to be getting up to, she doesn’t mind. And when Luke sees that his mom smiles every time he mentions that he’s off to see Julie, he knows their moms have definitely been talking to each other. 

When he would get to the Molina’s, he would pass Rose, greet her, and say that he’s going to be running lines with Julie. 

“Right,” 

“We are,” he insists, one time, after catching Rose smirking. 

“It’s just, I’ve been in theater myself when I was younger. I know what ‘running lines’ mean,” 

And to say that Luke shows up blushing to the garage where Julie was waiting was an understatement. 

But as much as Luke and Julie are killing it in their performances, there’s one part that trips Luke up. 

There’s a scene where their two characters confess their love for each other, following a group musical number, but Luke can’t get into it. 

He throws the script in frustration at the couch, “This is hopeless.”

“No, you’re doing good. It’s just missing something,” Julie says, pulling him closer to her, “You’re reading the lines. You’re not saying them,” 

“What does that mean?” 

“You need to channel the character. His thoughts and feelings in the moment, and you embody that. You show the audience that,” 

“So what do I need to do?” 

“You need to look like you’re in love with me, okay?” 

“Okay,” 

They run it a couple of times before they do it at rehearsal the next day. And after he and Julie go over their love confession, Luke inwardly curses himself because he couldn’t focus and he was worried he messed up in front of everyone during such an intimate scene. 

But once he concluded, Julie is looking up at him with an expression he’s never seen before, in surprised awe, and he could see a faint blush on her cheeks. And she ends up stammering into her part- something the Julie Molina never did. 

Everyone in the production applauds them- Reggie, Alex, and Bobby look at Luke, wide-eyed. 

Flynn comes up to them to show them the footage she captured of their rehearsal and Luke is stunned to see that his acting isn’t as terrible as he thought. In that moment, he really looked like he was in love with Julie as he said his lines. 

And then it hit him. 

The reason he couldn’t focus is because he had been too busy staring into Julie’s beautiful brown eyes, relishing the touch of her warm hand in his- and he didn’t even try to act, he said the lines as he normally would if he was talking. 

He didn’t look like he was in love with Julie. 

He was in love with Julie. 

It gets awkward between them since then, and they haven’t been able to recapture that same spark as their previous performance. And now that they have gotten their parts down, there’s no need for Luke to keep visiting Julie any more, and they only see each other at rehearsals. 

And then it comes- opening night. 

They run through it without a hitch earlier before and everyone’s all excited for how it’s gonna play out. 

Luke sees his parents out in the audience, chilling with the Molinas, and he stomachs his nerves before walking out and to perform. 

The production is successful, only minor mishaps occur (aka Reggie’s props keep falling apart, so he had to make due with invisible ones for the time being). 

And then it comes to the finale, the big scene. Luke goes in and delivers his lines, staring into Julie’s eyes and tries to channel the same feelings as before.

But when it’s Julie’s turn, she starts ad-libbing. She says her lines, but then she’s throwing in references that certainly aren’t relevant within the time period in which the musical takes place (”when you gave me your last strawberry for my frozen yogurt... I knew... I knew you were the one for me”), it makes the audience laugh but the heart was still there. 

Luke’s confused until he realizes. It’s not Julie’s character confessing her feelings for Luke’s anymore. 

It’s Julie confessing her feelings for Luke. Right there on stage. In front of everyone. 

She went off-script for him...

After curtain call, and everyone is riding that post-opening night high, Luke catches Julie before she could go meet her family out in the hallway. 

“Hey,” 

“Hi,” 

Luke pulls out his script, “Run it with me one last time?” 

“Luke, what-”

“Humor me, please,” 

Julie scans the script he hands to her. He’s circled their love confession scene, and when she reaches the bottom of the page, her eye catches a new, messily scribbled in stage direction. 

“’And they kiss...” Julie reads, a smile slowly growing on her face, “...hopefully??”

They both laugh at the latter words, and Luke looks at her sheepishly. 

“I mean... if it’s in the script, we gotta do it, right?” 

“You’re such a dork,” Julie says before pulling him in for a kiss. 

They pull away, and Luke has the audacity to smirk, “I believe this is what you call a ‘showmance’,” 

Julie quirks an eyebrow at the new vocabulary, “Someone’s been paying attention.” 

“I’ve learned a few things,” He nuzzles her nose against hers, “I had a pretty good teacher.” 

“I have plenty more to teach you,” 

“Oh really?”

“Like, for instance, how the warp party at Denny’s is a must,” She takes him by the hand and leads him out of the theater, giggling “Come on!” 

They dash through the hallways until they come up on their friends and family, who were proud of their performances. Luke looks up from hugging his mom in time to see Ms. Harrison grinning at him and giving him a thumbs up. 

‘Thank you,’ he mouths to the teacher. 

Maybe theater wasn’t that bad of an idea after all...

[shelf-care]

Winter Nights

Wolverine x OC

Lipstick mark series Pt.2

| Part 1| 

So its snowing in south Texas! that never happens. My parents are panicking and I’m sitting here writing fan fiction to calm myself. What could go wrong? 

So Victor Creed shows up in this because I’m a pantser and I come up with ideas as I go and see if it works for the plot, (For this miniseries I hope it does.) I was also watching Kate and Leopold last night (It’s become a valentines tradition for me over the last few years.) And Liev was in it. So theres that. 

Rated PG-13

Mentions of sex, medical examination, a former abusive relationship, obsession with an individual, slight violence, touch starved wolverine. 

“Your mission Miss hope?” The woman in the white lab coat asked while holding a clipboard ad clicking a pen multiple times, it had to be some sort of nervous tick. Maddie tipped her head back, swallowing her saliva, she was clad in a sterile white medical gown, her red hair sprawled out on the also white pillow as another individual examined her. “My mission was to come into contact with the Man known as wolverine, or James Logan Howlett.” She took a breath, the cold instruments the nurse had been using caught her rather off guard. “And you succeeded in not only finding him, but you managed to get a sample of his DNA?” The woman jotted some notes on the clipboard now, keeping her eyes locked on Maddie. The redhead looked away, staring at the ceiling stark white and formless like everything else in the room. “I did.” The doctor nodded her head. “We’ll be taking those samples back to the lab to confirm that its him. Until they are conclusive, you are free to go.” The young woman nodded watched as swabs left the room, she rather did not want to know what they wanted to do with him.

_

Blankly staring at the roof above her, Maddie couldn’t keep that night from playing over and over again. He was indeed her target, but, something was stirring in her, affection most likely. It would die within a couple weeks like it did with the men following shortly after. She knew he would be harder to kill. But he’d fall like the rest. Eventually. She closed her eyes, then she felt her phone buzz next to her. She reached for it, a voice message was visible. Holding the device to her ear, she heard his voice. A voice that in all honesty she enjoyed. “Look, I’m not that great at stuff like this. But I got your note, the other one, the one with the lipstick,” He paused, thinking about what he’d say next. “I thought we got on pretty well the other night. Lemme know when you make it back to the bar.” The message was short, and pretty sweet. He did care, at least a tad. Maddie slid her lips in a grin, she recorded a new message for him. “I’d love to meet again, this Friday at the bar?”

_

She waited at the bar again, it was cold, snow was on its way. This time the meeting was for more pleasure than anything else since her job was done, but it wasn’t a bad things to keep up with a target. The door swung open among the mostly empty bar. The few patrons turned their heads at the sudden commotion. In walked a man who was tall, very tall. Blond hair cascading down his shoulders, while some of it was put in a half ponytail. A long trench coat and fur, was joined by it, making him look that more intimidating. He made his way to the bar and sat down, eyeing Maddie like she was his new meal. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” He said keeping his sight on the bar ahead of him while he ordered himself a large glass of whatever was the strongest drink at the bar. Maddie rolled her eyes. “You here to babysit me creed?” She asked drawing invisible circles in the counter. “Here more on pleasure Miss Hope.” He looked her up and down again and licked his lips visibly so she’d see it for sure. He knew this made her one of two things. Hot and bothered, or pissed off. it pissed her off this time around, and Creed preferred it that way.  “I thought we were past this.” She turned fully to him now. “You might be.” He drank down half the mixture of bourbon, whisky and fireball and faced her, chest puffed in pride and confidence, a pointed and toothy grin showed itself. “But I sure as hell wasn’t girly.” He scoffed as his fist hit the bar making the redhead jump as he got her attention and everyone else’s in the bar as a matter of fact. “We were just getting good when you left.” A fire lit in her heart, anger and passion apparent in her face she took a moment to compose herself. “Victor, they removed you from my squad and as my partner because of your behavior towards me. That hit was the last straw and I won’t be coming back and I’m sure you know that.” Her tone was low and threatening, looking at him, she grasped the glass and slammed down the rest of the liquid before putting down a few dollars as a tip. Creed thought it was adorable when she was angry, and decided to take it as far as he could.

As she zipped up her jacket and made her way out, the large man grabbed her by the arm. “We’re done when I say we are,” He pulled her close to him, his breath brushing warm against her throat as his claw ran down her cheek. “And I’m not done talking to you.” His yellow eyes bored into hers, she felt her heartbeat quicken, she despised and loved this feeling, that’s what got her into this mess the first time. “I told you I was finished. You’ll get your chance with me another day.” She opened her hand to show her palm to him, illuminating a golden hue of color at the center and curving our like a flame, Creeds eyes didn’t change a bit, he seemed like he welcomed the challenge. “Sweetheart, if only you knew how much I craved that part of you.” He gave a guttural low laugh, daring her, as he smirked again, spurring her on. Seeing if she’d really follow through on her threat, which most of them were never hollow. “On any other occasion Creed, I’d let you have it.” She placed her hand on his fist that was still clenched around her arm. “But I’m not in the mood for playing nice.” His hand went visceral, veins becoming more visible as one could see the vitality of the large mutant being taken on by someone a third of his size. “Let me go.” He threatened as he began to feel his muscles failing him in his left arm. “You first.” She smiled, the grin widening as he raised his claws at her. but was too weak to do much else. She laughed and leaned into his ear whispering in a sensual voice, her chest touching his to pour more salt onto the wound. “I thought you craved this part of me.” He could feel himself become more drained the longer she stayed, he realized she wasn’t messing around this time, his grip loosened and she walked free, not another word was heard from Creed, and it would be like that till the next time those twos’ paths crossed. Creed was bent over the bar. He reached for his drink and it shook in his hold, and drank the rest fervently like he needed air, he watched as his hand shook like an elderly man and his hand similar to one too. “Babe’s been getting stronger.” He was captivated by the way her powers worked, he always had been.

 She was Outside, the wind howled and whipped the snow up, crating a curtain of nothing but white mist making visibility a little less than optimal. She pulled out her phone and started to text.

“Hey, the bar is full. Did you want to meet anywhere else for drinks?” She messaged him. Yes, it was a lie, but she didn’t want to be around Creed, for reasons that was obvious. She waited a few minutes till she saw the three dots pop up. “You wanna come to the trailer?” He asked bluntly. She shrugged. “Pick me up?” She shot back quickly. “Sure thing.” Was all he said back.

_

Maddie threw her head back against the mini sofa that was in the one room airstream. The warmth enveloping her as she sighed after her first sip of beer. The snow on her jacket seeping into the fabric further, making a chill run down her spine. “Thank you.” She said raising her head to look at him, happy to be warm. “Don’t mention it.” He said mirroring her actions. “I can’t believe you wanted to meet again.” She mentioned looking at him again, he was different from last time, but not. “I can’t either if I’m honest.” He sat on his bed across from her. There was a silence that fell between the two, but it was comfortable. “Sorry the bar didn’t work out.” Leaning forward trying to skirt the conversation along. “I’d rather be doing this.” He tilted his head referring to his drink. That made Maddie laugh through her nose a bit. “Really? You’d rather act like an old married couple than be out?” She teased him, but he looked at her for a moment. “Been there and done that.” She nodded. “I like this though. It’s nice.” She took another sip of her drink before throwing away the bottle in an open trash bin. “I never got to ask. What is it that you do?” She placed her palm under her chin and smiled, waiting for his answer. He played with his bottle, before drinking his as well. “What you saw the other night is what I’ve been doing for the last fifteen years.” He told her nodding and thinking about his past and his way of living. “I don’t remember much of what I did before.” Maddie looked at him, a blank face that he couldn’t make out, but made him curious. “You never told me what you did. How did someone like you wind up in this dump of a town?” He joked slightly but he wasn’t wrong, it was a little piece of nowhere. “I’m in military secret forces. I was stationed here, and have been here for the last three years.” She saw him tense at the subject. “You okay?” Her brows cocked at him becoming a little bit tense. She didn’t think he suspect anything, and she wasn’t outright lying about what she did. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He left it at that. She stood up and paced over to him, and sat down next to him. The mattress sinking beneath her. He looked at her not quite knowing what she was doing. She reached for his hand, and looked at him before she went any further. “You don’t seem fine.” She silently asked for permission and he let her have his hand. She traced his palm slowly and gently, comfort in every movement. He was starved of this type of affection. Most people were, but him more than others she found just from the way he acted. She laced her fingers in-between the spaces where his were not, interlocking their hands. He closed his eyes her for a split second, every curve, every bump, every imperfection written on her face made him want her more as he reveled in the feeling of them being so close. “Don’t do this to yourself.” He warned her, taking his hand out of hers, though she stopped him. “Don’t tell me what to do.” She was firm, but the firmness was met with a soft smile. Logans eyes studied her for a minute. No one had ever stopped him like that, not to his knowledge anyway. This time when he went to remove his hand she let him leave, but it was to place his hand under her chin and bring her closer, and there, their lips met, and he pushed her below him while she wrapped her hands around his neck and raked her hands through his hair, all while closing her eyes enjoying the warmth compared to the freezing outside.

_

While the campers light was dim, if one were close to it you could hear giggling, rocking, calling one another’s names in the dark, and a little obscene noises that you would only hear if you where right next to the airstream. Then there was the figure that stood a few feet away from the little camper, a figure that towered over most men. The same body that was blonde, and in the bar with Maddie that same night. “You made a big mistake girly,” He peered down at his still healing hand, it looked aged, like his hand was ten years older than the rest of his body. 

[lovingmyselfcore]

Protect You

I promise as we move along more things will happen in each chapter and I’m not really sure what exactly this is but we’re moving forward so yay

Chapter II: My Sister’s Getting Married and I Get Drunk. It’s a good system

Every time I looked at Taryn all I could think about was the betrayal that came with discovering your twin was in a relationship with your boyfriend, and she had been for a while. I know that Vivi didn’t expect me to just ‘get over it’ but I could tell she wanted me to. She pushed me and Taryn as close together as she dared without risking my wrath as she called it. That gleam in her eyes when I would actually look Taryn in the eyes with something other than hate. She wanted her sisters back, I could understand that, but I doubted we could ever get back to where we were, once.

“Jude,” Taryn’s sing-song voice invaded my mind, curling around my brain and ruthlessly squeezing the sleep out of it.

Light flooded my eyes as she shoved my curtains open. “I noticed you didn’t wake up early like you always did.” Her mouth formed a delicate frown. I wanted to punch it.

“No,” I said, sitting up. “I didn’t have to go in today and recently I’ve been so exhausted I decided to sleep in,” I narrowed my eyes, “Until somebody ruined it.” 

Taryn crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s my last day visiting, Jude. I thought you might want to spend it together.”

I just stared blankly at her.

Disappointment flashed across her face, “Fine. But hurry and get ready. I have news I’ve been scared to tell you, but Vivi convinced me I should.”

Now that caught my attention but I quickly schooled my face back to unconcerned.

Her mouth lifted slightly like she knew I wasn’t completely unaffected.

Without another word, she strode out of my room. I scowled at her back and stuck up my finger once she’d turned the corner.

I threw off the covers and reached for my phone.

I’d gotten a text from The Bomb.

Bomb: It’s been about a week since you started guarding Dain with us, we want to get closer. Come for drinks tonight.

Jude: I have a sister thing tonight, I can’t.

My finger hovered over the send button before I pressed it. I don’t know why I didn’t accept. Going for drinks with them sounded like it would be much more fun than what was awaiting me at this very moment.

I groaned and tossed my phone on my bed, moving for my closet.

I walked towards the living room and was immediately assaulted. My little brother, Oak threw himself at me, wrapping his tiny arms around my hips.

“Hi, buddy,” I murmured.

“I’ve missed you, Jude!” I leaned down and picked him up, swinging him around my body, relishing in his giggles.

“Jude,” I set him down at the sound of Oriana’s voice. She stood in the doorway, eyes flitting in every direction like she was looking for the nearest exit. I knew the feeling. She pursed her lips. “The family is waiting.” Not our. Never our. She still didn’t like me. Hadn’t ever. She’d slowly warmed up to Taryn and even Vivi over the years but every time she was in a room alone with me she looked like she would rather claw her own eyes out.

I nodded, peering around her to see Vivi, Taryn, and Madoc in the living room. I wouldn’t ask why they were here. I wouldn’t give Oriana the satisfaction.

I sat next to Vivi, pulling Oak into my lap. I didn’t miss the quick look Oriana shot me as she settled down, angled towards me as if to pull him away. I held him tighter.

“Jude. I have something very big to tell you.” Taryn’s voice held a forced lightness.

She shifted uncomfortably, twisting her hands in her lap, drawing my attention to them. Or more specifically, what was on them. A single finger, specifically.

Something in me twisted. “You’re marrying him.” It wasn’t a question.

She nodded and I squeezed Oak. “Good for you.” I transported Oak onto Vivi’s lap, he went willingly, wrapping his arms around her neck as she tickled his sides.

Even the sounds of his laughter and the humming of the furnace and every other appliance in our house could not help what felt like a deafening silence blanketing the room.

I nodded to myself, making to stand. “Good for you,” I repeated. 

“The engagement party is in two weeks. I’d like for you to be there.” Her eyes shone as she looked up at me and that something twisted again.

“Sure.” I found myself saying. “I’ll be there.”

Everyone was still staring at me so I announced, “I’m going to get breakfast from that cafe down the street.”

“Bring me some scones!” Vivi called after me as I shoved my phone in my back pocket, threw my coat on, and walked out the door.

“Sure!” I called back as I slammed the door closed behind me.

~~~~~~~

I sat in the cafe, at a table against the wall occasionally sipping my coffee and picking at my muffin.

I didn’t love him. I’d figured that out pretty easily after the initial ordeal all went down. I was definitely more hurt by her betrayal than his. Actually, I was never that hung up over him. So why did I hate the idea of her marrying him so badly? Well, it wouldn’t. I took a deep breath forcing myself to do one of my best talents. I took my feelings and wrapped a thick wool blanket over them, rolled them over an invisible hill, and pushed them off the edge.

I stabbed my muffin with a plastic fork and slumped in my seat, closed my eyes, and tried to let the classical music drown out the world.

“My sweet nemesis,” A voice purred. “How lovely to see you here.”

My eyes flew open, Cardan was standing above me.

He grinned as my surprise morphed into a glare.

He peered around the cafe carefully before shrugging off his coat, probably something Italian and worth more than my life, and sat down in the seat across from mine.

My eyes lifted instinctively and I saw someone slide into a seat nearby. His security guard, probably. He followed my eyes and let out a long-suffering sigh. “I couldn’t get rid of them all.”

I rolled my eyes, “They’re here to protect you, you know.”

“But you’re here,” He smirked. “You’re all the protection I need.”

Something in my brain woke up. “I’m what you need protection from,” I snarled.

“There she is.”

“What do you want, Cardan?”

He lifted a hand to his heart and pouted. “Come on, dear. You can’t expect me to only be here because of you.”

I raised my eyebrows and looked around the cafe, neutral tones, plants, a generally calm environment. I looked back at Cardan, glitter smeared across his eyelids, winged eyeliner painstakingly applied to perfection, midnight-black curls in disarray. Breath smelling of wine and something else I wasn’t sure I wanted to identify.

I scoffed. “Right. This is definitely your scene.”

He grinned again, “Not really yours either, Jude.”

I shrugged, “I needed to escape.” I was shocked at the honesty and for a second it appeared he was too.

“From what?” He asked.

I rolled my eyes and stabbed my muffin again. He watched with a small smile. “Like you care.”

“I do, actually.” He leaned forward, resting on his forearms and I found myself leaning slightly forward too. “Tell me your troubles.” He was close enough I could see his clear eyes. He was looking at me like he really did want to know, so I told him.

“Taryn is marrying Locke.”

“Yes.” He said. “This is news?”

I furrowed my brows. “This isn’t?”

“He told me he was going to do it quite a bit ago, but that doesn’t matter. Why does this trouble you?” Something I couldn’t decipher flashed across his face and his voice got tight. “Do you love him?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Good, he’s not good enough for you.” The sincerity in his tone caught me off guard and I went quiet. He did too.

We sat there in silence, watching each other. “Jude.” His voice was quiet.

“Yes?”

“Be careful.”

I sat up straighter, “What do you mean?”

He glanced around, his eyes flitting from the security cameras to his own guard and back again. “With my brother.”

“I can take care of myself.” 

“Maybe, but getting involved with him. With us, in the way that you are,” His voice was strained. “Just, be careful.”

“What are you talking about?” I demanded.

He sucked in a breath. “I can’t, Jude. Just,”

He stood up and shrugged his coat back on. He hadn’t met my eyes, he was still watching everything and everyone around us.

“Be careful. Or you’re going to get hurt. Badly.”

~~~~~~~

Cardan’s warning stirred something in me, something that caused me to, as soon as he was out of the cafe with his security in tow, pick up my phone and text the Bomb.

Jude: Is that offer for drinks still open?

Bomb: Definitely

Jude: Just tell me the time and place. I’ll be there.

~~~~~~~

“What made you decide to come?” Bomb - or, as I just found out, Lilliver - asked as I waved down the bartender for a refill.

I shifted in my seat.

“Nothing good, then?” Ghost - Garrett - asked.

I looked at him and he grimaced, “Your body language is screaming at me.”

I let out a noise between a laugh and a groan.

“Spill, girlie.” Roach - Van - demanded.

“I just found out my twin sister is marrying my high school boyfriend.”

Van whistled, low. 

“Damn,” Lilliver said.

“Oh,” I said. “It gets worse.”

I explained to them how Locke had been with Taryn longer than he’d been with me, but the two of them were in a secret relationship. And Taryn knew about me and him the whole time.

“How’d you find out?” Van’s speech was slurred as he leaned forward. He sloshed his drink and Lilliver slid away gracefully to avoid the spill. 

“Oh,” I sighed, resting my head in my hands and letting out a humorless laugh. “He told me.”

Garrett leaned forward then, eyebrows raising. “So he grew a conscience?” 

I shook my head, rolling my eyes.”Of course not. He just thought he had me deep enough in his grasp that he could.” I brought my hand to my chest as if to contain the hiccup. It didn’t work. “He thought he could keep dating both of us.”

“What the fuck.” Lilliver said, Van and Garrett, echoing the sentiment.

“Wait,” Lilliver held up her hands in a pause motion. “I’m drunk so I’m kinda slow right now but, Locke.” She waved her fingers. “Isn’t that one of Cardan’s friends?”

Van looked like she’d just explained why the sky was blue. He looked at me for confirmation.

I nodded, taking a deep drink. “That’s how I met the Greenbriars. Cardan and I were in the same grade. Vivi and Rhyia are close.”

“So you were in the same circle?”

I laughed, “God no. Exact opposite ‘circles’. Cardan and I declared each other sworn enemies day one, Valerian and Nicasia despised me on sight and Locke for the most part had stayed out of it.”

“Until he decided to date you both just to see if he could.”

“Yeah,” I sighed.

“Did Cardan and the others know?”

“Kind of?” I shrugged. “I’ve never been clear on how much Valerian knew. But, Nicasia found out he was dating one of us and told Cardan.” My voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, “Neither of them liked it very much.” Van snorted. “Locke decided to out me and him to the school,” I waved my drink through the air. “We dated publicly for a little while and then at senior prom I found out what was going on with him and my sister. The rest is history.”

Lilliver winced, “Prom?”

“Oh yeah,” I said and grinned. “Great memories.”

Garrett looked at me sympathetically, “I’m sure.”

“Oh!” I declared, accidentally slapping Van in the arm, “I got into a physical fight with Taryn after, too.”

“Did you win?” Lilliver asked and at my grin and smug nod she cackled. “Atta girl.”

I hiccuped and set my drink down. “I’m going to dance,” I announced and wormed out onto the dance floor.

I danced for what felt like hours, the music had burrowed into my blood, my bones. I couldn’t stop. People were passing me drinks and more that I can’t even remember. The world was a blur. Somewhere, I recognized familiar voices but I drowned everything out aside from the pumping in my ears.

I know I threw up on some girl at some point because a high-pitched voice was yelling at me, I couldn’t make out a single word she said but almost immediately after a hand wrapped around my upper arm. “Come on, Jude. You have to go home.”

I resisted but clearly, I wasn’t coordinated enough to fight back because their grip only tightened. “Stop fighting,” The voice hissed, pulling me through the groups of people, I opened my mouth to call out for someone, anyone but my voice was caught in my throat. “It’s just me.”

“Cardan?” My voice came out in a whisper and the world sharpened. 

It was Cardan, he was holding me tight against him as we exited the club. He looked down at me with an indecipherable look in his eyes. “Some guys were watching you, and you'd already had enough to drink. I’m taking you home.” His voice was harsh.

“I can take care of myself.” I spat, finding the strength to pull away from him, but he kept his hand on my arm.

“I know you can, Jude.”

"Dain's going to kill me for getting this drunk when I'm supposed to be on call isn't he?"

Cardan's silence was answer enough.

"Are you sure you don't love him?" Cardan asked suddenly.

"Who?" I furrowed my brows. "Dain?"

"Well, I certainly I hope you don't love Dain. But I'm talking about Locke."

I tried to look at him but he wouldn't meet my eyes. "I'm sure. Why?"

His grip tightened. "Getting basically blackout drunk the night you're told he's marrying your sister is on the more on the extreme side of the scale."

I laughed despite myself. "I don't love Locke. But even if I did, why do you care?"

"I don't," He snarled.

I hummed, "You can let go of me now, I can walk." 

He snorted, "Sure you can." Suddenly he released my arm and I stumbled, throwing my arms out for balance.

Cardan crossed his arms, watching me, amused while I stumbled on the sidewalk like an infant.

I flipped him off but it was the wrong move. It took my concentration from keeping upright and I stumbled sideways just enough to slam into a streetlight.

I winced and my hand flew to my head. Cardan stepped forward slowly but lunged when my knees buckled and I collapsed.

"That's going to be a wicked bruise," He grinned down at me.

My eyes were heavy as he swept me into his arms, “I’ll kill you. You and I both know I can.”

I felt myself being lowered into his car but he didn’t let go. Settling us both into the backseat, I felt his laugh more than I heard it. “I know, Jude.”

The last thing I heard before I passed out was him giving his personal driver my address.

Tag: Let me know if you want to stay on the tag list for this. I wasn’t sure but I tagged you anyway :)

@foreverscreaming @ladyofbloodandroses

[2dmenenthusiast]

Let’s be sad together (Peter Parker x Depressed Reader)

A/N PLEASE READ!!: heeey so before we get into this, this story is told in the first person, which I know some people don’t like but I felt it was best for this particular fic because there is some self-hate in here and I didn’t want the reader to feel targetted and make them feel like shit? I hope that made sense. keep in mind this fic deals with themes of DEPRESSION, something I myself struggle with. So if you’re not comfortable with this, please don’t read. I’ve read plenty of x depressed! reader fics, and most of what I read doesn’t do the feelings justice or it romanticises depression. It’s usually like “oh youre depressed? Well i love you and boom youre fixed!” Yeah I hate shit like that lol. But I am certainly not trying to romanticise depression or mental illness by writing this. I wanted to make a fic people like me can relate to, the thoughts and feelings, etc. It was honestly super difficult, I wrote the first draft and completely scrapped it cuz I hated it. I really tried my best here, guys, and I hope you like it. And always remember that you’re not alone and things do eventually get better. It just takes time and a little help. Once again I tried to keep the reader as nuetral as possible so everyone can read! (I fucking suck at titles btw)

Plot: Peter notices something’s been wrong with you lately, and you prepare yourself for the inevitable break-up once he confronts you about it.

Words: 2,562

Warnings: Themes of depression and anxiety, self hate, angst

Loving Peter Parker was absolutely suffocating.

Sometimes I couldn’t decide if dating him was the worst or best decision I ever made, but I knew one thing for sure. He had me wrapped around his finger, and there was no leaving him even if I tried. Not that I wanted to. Peter is… well, he’s perfect. Sure, he’s dorky and can ramble about technical stuff that I can’t even begin to understand for hours on end, but if anything, those things only added to the list of reasons why he’s perfect. Oh, and he’s Spiderman. My boyfriend is Spiderman. In other words, nights were spent worrying about whether he’d make it home safely or not, and some were spent patching him up when he came knocking on my window after a particularly bad fight. He made me happy. Happier than I had ever been probably. So… why did I still feel this way?

At first, a part of me thought that being with Peter would… fix things, I guess. That maybe if I was in a relationship, it would cause all the rushing thoughts inside my head to go away. And at first, it did help. There were more nights that I could sleep peacefully, and there wasn’t a constant feeling of anxiousness sitting in my stomach. But of course, that relief never lasted long. I knew it wouldn’t, but a part of me hoped it would.

Overthinking had always been an issue. Every situation had a “what if,” and this was no different. Thoughts of Peter leaving me began to occupy my mind almost every second of every day, and now, rather than feeling relaxed in his presence, I felt a constant feeling of anxiety. Like my heart was stuck in my throat and I couldn’t breathe, an invisible weight crushing my chest. Sometimes I’d get so overwhelmed with my feelings that I’d have to leave the room and calm myself down so that I wouldn’t cry. And other days I’d completely close myself off from everyone, laying in my bed all day and feeling so upset and worthless.

This wasn’t Peter’s fault. No, he treated me like fucking royalty. This was due to my own dumb self and my own dumb emotions and my dumb fucking ways of overthinking shit I shouldn’t even be thinking about. But it’s always been like this, and no amount of listening to sad songs and telling myself everything was going to be okay was going to change that. I wasn’t immune to feeling insecure either. Especially when Peter hung out with his other friends, but I immediately told myself not to think about that stuff. I didn’t want to be that partner that gets jealous of their partner’s friends when I’m not getting every second of their attention. No, thinking that way felt toxic, and that was the last thing I wanted to be.

But sometimes, I couldn’t help those thoughts from sinking in. There were so many people out there. So many people that were funnier and better looking than me… So why did Peter settle for me? Why would he want to date someone with so much fucking baggage? Someone who could barely get out of bed in the morning while already wishing for the day to be over? Someone who thought so fucking little of themselves as a human being? There were times where I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror, because those were the days I really hated myself. Sometimes I feel like he fell out of love with me a long time ago and now he won’t leave me because he feels bad, which only made me feel worse for keeping him in a relationship he probably didn’t even want to be in. 

I couldn’t say anything to Peter about this. How could I? He would just try to fix everything and I didn’t need fixing. I just wanted him there to reassure me that he loved me as much as I loved him. That he wouldn’t leave me because of how mentally fucked I was. Even if he did tell me those things, I don’t know if I’d even believe him. My mind probably wouldn’t even let me. I imagined if I did try to tell him everything I was feeling, I probably wouldn’t be able to explain it in a way that he could understand. I was just so tired. Tired of waiting for the inevitable moment when Peter would break up with me, and I’d be left with an expected broken heart. I’ve even been preparing for the day it happens so that it doesn’t kill me when it hurts, just like I do with every situation. Rather than give my hopes up and be disappointed, I just assume the worst from the get-go. 

I don’t know how it hasn’t happened yet. How he hasn’t noticed the way I just shut down when the day gets hard. How I constantly look like I’m just in my own head, either when all of us are hanging out or when it’s just me and him. I want him to know. I want to tell him all the shit that’s running through my mind, but a part of me is terrified that I’ll just scare him away. So I just pretend it’s fine. Like I’m not ready to bust and rip open at the seams.

Today was another one of those days where I just felt like locking myself in my room and never coming out. However, the usual excuse of “I just don’t feel good,” didn’t work on Peter this time. He knew that there was something wrong. I could see it in the way he looked at me. I thought I had gotten away with it at first, laying in my bed and mindlessly scrolling on my phone, not even present in my head, just kind of there. But I knew I was screwed when I heard a knock on my window and opened my curtains just to see Peter sitting on the fire escape. I didn’t say anything as I opened the window, just watching as he stumbled into my room while pulling on the sleeves of my hoodie, something I often did when I felt that familiar anxiousness creeping in.

He made sure to shut the window after he was inside, and I immediately shrunk under his gaze when he turned to me, feeling too ashamed to meet his eyes.

“Hey, um…” 

He hesitated, and I watched the way he rubbed his palms against his jeans, almost as if he was feeling nervous. I could imagine how he was feeling, though. I was nervous too.

“I know this is kinda abrupt, um… but I just wanted to stop by and you know, make sure you’re feeling okay and all that. I was worried, so…”

Worried? He was worried about me? I blinked a few times, trying to rack my brain for a quick lie I could tell him, but that wasn’t what came out when I spoke.

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, I’m fine, I just… I guess I’ve just been feeling kinda low today.”

I immediately wanted to swallow the words that left my mouth, not believing that I actually willingly let him know that I wasn’t really feeling okay.

“Oh?” He took a step forward, which immediately made me want to take a step back. “How come? Was today just not a good day?”

Peter was so unbelievably sweet and considerate, I almost wanted to cry right then and there. He always treated me so well… but he deserved someone better. Someone that wasn’t me.

“I-I guess? I don’t know, it’s just kinda hard to explain,” I muttered, reaching a hand up to rub the back of my neck that felt strangely warm.

“Do you wanna talk about it? I have plenty of time. I actually left the group to come see you, so I don’t mind listening.”

My eyes slightly widened as my gaze quickly met his, looking at him as if he was crazy. Hell, he just might’ve been if he stopped hanging out with his friends just to see me.

“You… Why would you do that?” I asked softly, my voice almost a whisper as I tried to keep it from trembling.

His brows furrowed and he tilted his head slightly, looking at me almost incredulously as he stepped closer.

“Do I need a reason? I wanted to see you.”

He said it so confidently, as if he was so positive that he rather be spending his time with me than his buddies. It kind of made me feel a bit guilty. He could be spending his time with his friends and having fun, but instead, he was here, and I was trying not to break down in front of him.

“But your friends… wouldn’t you rather hang out with them?” I asked, arms crossing over my chest as if I was protecting myself from something.

Peter just smiled. “I could chill with them any time I want. Why would I skip out on an opportunity to see my baby, hm?”

My hand quickly shot up to cover my mouth, and I could feel tears starting to push through.

“He wouldn’t say that if he knew,” I thought, and it immediately became harder to contain the tears when he closed the short distance between us and placed his hands on my shoulders, his expression clearly one of concern.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

I shook my head, sniffling as I reached up and wiped at my teary eyes.

“I’m fine, I just-”

You’re not. You’re really not fine, y/n. This is not fine.

My walls were quickly crumbling down as a tear slipped down my cheek, which caused more to follow, and I let out a choked sob as Peter placed a hand on the back of my head and gently pulled me into his chest, his other hand running over my back. He didn’t say anything, just let me cry to my heart’s content as I gripped onto the front of his shirt for dear life.

“I… I’m not okay, Peter. Nothing’s okay,” I mumbled into his chest, and he gently pushed me back as he carefully held my face in his hands, thumbs wiping at my tear stained cheeks.

“What’s not okay, y/n? C’mon, talk to me.”

“Everything!” I yelled, and I could tell he was surprised by my sudden outburst as I pulled myself away from his embrace.

“Everything is not okay, Peter. Fuck, I just…” I brought my arm up over my eyes as my bottom lip quivered, my eyes burning as more tears fell. “Everything’s just so hard and I’m so tired. And I’m making everything so complicated for myself, it’s not even anyone’s fault that I’m feeling like this. It’s mine.” I sniffled and wiped at my eyes again, but it did nothing to stop the endless tears that had spent too much time being held in. “A-And I don’t know what to do, Peter. I really don’t. I’m so fucking tired of hurting and I just want the thoughts and feelings to stop. Fuck sometimes I just wish I felt nothing!”

I looked up at Peter when he didn’t say anything, and found that he was just looking at me. There wasn’t any judgement or disgust in his eyes. At least, not from what I could tell. He looked… worried. Maybe even a little sad. Was he upset over what I said? Is he bummed out that he found out what I’m actually like? I let out a sigh and wiped my nose against my sleeve, suddenly finding my feet very interesting as I looked down. The silence was fucking deafening, and in that moment, I wanted to throw myself off the fire escape and into traffic below.

“How long have you felt like this?” Peter suddenly asked, his voice quiet as if he was trying to not startle me.

I hesitantly looked up at him, pulling at my sleeves again as I shrugged my shoulders.

“If you’re talking about all the depressing shit, ever since my early teens, I guess. But um… I’ve been having other thoughts recently. Ever since we got together, actually.”

I winced as soon as the words left my mouth. Would I regret this? Most definitely. Did Peter need to know? No, but he deserved to.

Peter frowned. “Really? Like… what kind of thoughts?”

I sighed and ran a hand down my face.

“Fuck, Peter, I just… You’re Peter Parker. You’re Spiderman! And I’m just-”

��Amazing, beautiful, the best partner I could ever ask for. Should I go on?” he asked with a small smirk, and I let out an amused huff as I placed a hand against his chest and lightly pushed him.

“I’m serious, Peter. I’m just… I’m fucked up, okay? Nothing about me is normal, hell the thoughts I have certainly aren’t. And I doubt you wanna be with someone who has so much shit going on with them-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Peter interrupted, waving his hands in front of my face. “Who said anything about me not wanting to be with you?”

I scoffed. “I mean, it’s a no brainer, Peter. You saw me just now. I mean, sometimes I break down over the dumbest shit-”

“It’s not dumb if it makes you upset,” he said, his tone a bit harsh.

I didn’t know how to respond to that. No one had ever really validated my feelings like that before.

“I-”

“No, y/n. Why would you think any of this would be a problem for me? I mean… No, nevermind, I understand why you would think that. You can’t help it right? But listen to me.” He placed his hands on my arms, making sure I was focusing on him. “No matter how messed up you think you are… you’ll always be my favorite person, y/n. You don’t have to hide how you feel, you don’t need to be scared. If you’re having a bad day, tell me, and we can have a bad day together. We can lay in bed all day and munch on food that will probably take years off of our life, we can do anything you want. Just tell me, okay? If something ever happened to you… shit, y/n.”

He then pulled me into a bone crushing hug, holding onto me as if I’d disappear if he let me go.

“That’s my worst nightmare. I could handle being kicked out of the avengers or any other terrible stuff. But losing you? Just thinking about it breaks my heart, baby.”

I felt the tears rising once again as I took in what he said, not used to hearing someone say these things to me. Leave it to Peter Parker to make me feel completely vulnerable and open, something I usually hated. I immediately relaxed in his embrace, letting out a soft cry as my arms wrapped around his waist and I buried my face in his neck.

“I love you, Peter,” I muttered softly, my heart skipping when I felt Peter’s lips against my temple, smiling against my skin.

“I love you too, y/n. Please don’t ever forget that.”

Maybe opening up a bit wasn’t the worst thing that could happen.

[saviorinsilk]

New Life

Pairing: Cordelia Goode X Female OC

Warning: None

The sun was at the highest point of the day, misty clouds covering it, causing the air to not be as stifling as the day before. That made me happy as I had felt sick from the heat of the summer here in New Orleans, Louisiana. I wasn't used to weather like this and even though I had arrived at Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies over two weeks ago, I didn't think I would ever get used to the deathly humidity that made my usually wavy hair a curly, frizzy mess. I had always worn my hair down before, but now I had to get used to a big messy bun sitting on the top of my head. Since that was, unfortunately, the only way it looked presentable. Honestly, though, my new hairstyle was the least of my problems.

Back in Canada, I had managed to live my 20 years of life being an extreme introvert. I had one friend that I kept from high school but I had already moved on from her in the mere 16 days I had been a country away. I had been used to being alone a lot, but that was an unfamiliar concept here at Miss Robichaux's. The only time you were alone was when you showered, but even then there was probably a girl blow drying her hair or fixing her makeup behind the curtain. I had learned pretty quickly to savour the fleeting moments when I was locked up in the bathroom, doing the one thing everyone agreed was not a group event. I Cherished those times. I tried very hard to be invisible but in a house full of witches that wasn't exactly easy. I had managed to avoid most conversations, except one with a girl named Nan, which thankfully had been very pleasant. I sat at the back of my classes and had somehow managed to talk myself out of having to do the introduction that I and a few other new girls had been asked to perform. The real miracle was that I had lucked out with my roommates. I got placed with a girl who only tiptoed into the room late at night once everyone was already in bed and a drama queen who had better things to do then talk to "my weird ass" as she put it. I took a long drag from the small joint between my fingers, the sweet taste of lemony haze filling my lungs. I felt my body relax as I pushed the smoke from my slightly parted lips. It seemed that with every exhale the stress in my mind and the pain in my muscles floated up to the sky as the air was filled with the pungent aroma. Back home I had had a medical marijuana license for my anxiety and it had been hell trying to survive without it in the south. I sat on the lawn in the backyard, studying the huge live oak trees that acted as a tall fence around the perimeter of the property. The freshly cut grass tickled my pale legs through the thin material of a bohemian style dress that Misty, a witch who lived in the house had given me. I had left the beautiful light blue shawl that she had given me as well, on my bed. The clouds provided enough protection from the scorching sun today. "It's beautiful out here." A soft voice spoke. I was dragged out of my thoughts by the feeling of my skin leaving my bones as I let out a loud yelp and my butt literally left the ground. My head snapped around and landed on the source of the noise. Cordelia Goode was standing only a few paces behind me, her head tilted up, eyes closed, feeling the warmth of the sun on her face. My heart skipped a beat and I had to fight my jaw from dropping open.

Miss Goode was the most beautiful women I had ever laid my eyes on. Her blond hair shone brightly as the sun broke through a cloud as if her beauty opened up the heavens. She wore a mint green, long-sleeved blouse made out of the breathable fluid material that I adored. Her petite but splendid curves were enhanced by the black loose-fitting pencil skirt that hugged them. I was completely and fully taken aback by her beauty, even though I had seen her many times.

I had hurried out of rooms every chance I got and when I couldn't avoid her, like during her class or morning meeting, I made sure to kept my eyes focused on something else. I accepted the fact that I was gay, but I sure as hell wasn't eager for anyone one else to know, given what happened last time someone did. Yet at this moment I couldn't tear my eyes away. Just looking at her was enough to give me butterflies. Cordelia smiled brightly and her now open, deep chocolate brown eyes settled on my wide pale blue eyes. "A strong sixth sense might not be an ability of yours," Cordelia said with a light chuckle. I'm not sure if it was her voice that brought me back to earth or if it was the loud bang of a hammer that came from a few houses down, but whatever it was suddenly made me aware of the fact that I indeed had a joint between my black slender nails. I quickly snuffed out the sourcing end of it into the grass in front of me and tucked it in my waist, bringing my knees up against my chest. "I'm so sorry Miss Goode! I'll never do it again, I promise. Please don't tell Myrtle." I stammered, my gaze locked on my bare feet that were sticking out from the bottom of my dress. My head spun as I thought of the consciences that were surely in store for me. One of our instructors, an older woman named Myrtle had given us a very serious talk after finding one of the girls drunk on the front porch after a long Friday night. We may have been away from our parents, but us young girls needed to remember that there was never a witch that achieved greatness by goofing around with drugs, over drinking or silly antics. I could still hear the intense tone she spoke in filling my head. Cordelia's eyes scanned me and her face rose into a sweet smile. "There's no need to be sorry Ellie. At least it's natural, unlike the insane amount of hard liquor some people in this city consume. Sometimes we all need a little help relaxing." Cordelia's voice was caring, her smile turning sympathetic. I was shocked and it took me a second to process all of it. All I could manage to do was to nod awkwardly before beginning to push myself off the plush ground. Cordelia's hand came up to stop me. "Sit." She commanded. I immediately obeyed, grabbing the joint in my hand as it slid away when my butt collided with the ground. "I'm on a short break and some fresh air would do me some good as well." She lowered herself next to me, her legs crossed out in front of her. I realized that she too was barefoot and for some reason it made me smile secretly to myself. Cordelia signed as she leans back on her outstretched arms, her head lazily turning towards me. She looked like an angel with the sun shining on her light pale skin. "We missed you at the morning meeting today. I was worried." Cordelia said. She was worried? About me? Those nasty metaphoric butterflies were back and they were frantic. When I just stared at her silently, Cordelia pursed her plump lips and narrowed her eyes slightly, as if she was concentrating on me. I shook my head and averted my eyes down to my fingers, that were busy rolling the joint against my skin. "I'm so sorry. I went for a walk this morning and I got...distracted. I know how important you said it is to be there on time. I messed up. I'll pick up some extra work around the house to make up for it." I offered, my guilty conscience getting the better of me. I tried to be tough but it didn't always go the way I wanted it to when I was confronted. "As much as I appreciate your civility, I'm not angry with you. I was just concerned because you have been very punctual since you got here." She said, worry in her eyes. I was embarrassed. I had made her worry. I may have been antisocial but I never wanted my actions to upset someone else. I had always been very empathetic and I felt ashamed of my actions. "Where did you walk? Around the Garden District?" Cordelia asked. Oh ya, I had walked around the neighbour for sure, I had studied every inch of it. "Ya, and a bit farther. I may have ended up at Staker's" I said sheepishly. Staker's was the small corner store a fair distance away. I could have guessed the reaction that Cordelia would have to this information but I wasn't excepting her discouraging tone to be quite as present as it was. "Elizabeth! That is at least a 20-minute drive away! What time were you up?" She demanded, her sunny disposer absent. God, she used my full name. No one had used that name since I got here. The last person to call me Elizabeth was my mother. "3:00 am," I said quietly as I peeked up at Cordelia's unhappy face. "Ellie you shouldn't be out on the streets at that time of night! It can get dangerous out there in the dark, especially for a witch and a beautiful young lady like yourself." Cordelia explained. I felt my cheeks getting warm and I could only imagine how red they must have been. Had Cordelia just called me beautiful? "I-I know. I just couldn't sleep because it was so hot and I had a real hankering for an iced tea and a crappy corner story donut." I stuttered, praying that my blushing wasn't too noticeable. Cordelia raised her eyebrows and her expression lighten a bit. "You could have asked one of your roommates where the fans were and I'm sure Zoe or one of the other girls with a license would have taken you to fulfil your cravings at lunch if you had asked," Cordelia said. She was so sweet but she didn't know the secrets some of the were hiding. I opened my mouth to argue that I didn't think the other girls liked me that much and that I had felt like I was suffocating in the house last night and had to make an escape before I saw my grave, but I couldn't. There was something about Cordelia that had an effect on me. I would go along with whatever came out of that woman's sweet lips. I'm sure that's how most cult members had felt towards their leaders and it had never done them any good but I was a hopeless romantic. "You're right. No more late night strolls. Promise." I settled with the polite response. After all, she was my Head Mistress AND my Supreme. Cordelia smiled, satisfied. "Good. Us witches need to be careful. Although there have been lots of people that have accepted us since we have gone public, there are still those out there that would like nothing more than to put a knife to your throat and play the violin." She warned, her words painting an image in my head that I would have been fine with never witnessing. It was true though and I had seen first hand how some people just couldn't deal with diversity. It had been a gloomy day when I had been in the Denver Airport, waiting patiently in line at Annie's Pretzels to get a treat for my connecting flight to New Orleans, when some nosy bitch glanced over my shoulder. I had been reading over a letter from Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies, excited over the invitation to come to see the school for myself. Suddenly the lady exploded in rage, shouting crude language as well as slipping in the words freak, Satanist along with just screaming WITCH over and over. She must have seen the news. I had stood my ground, not about to lose my place near the front of the line. I wanted my soft warm pretzel and no lunatic was going to take that away from me. Luckily she had been in line with a level-headed person, that dragged her away before I had been angered to the point of showing her just how much of a "freak" I was. People had never been kind to those who were different and the deep south was a perfect example of that. I may have felt like I could take care of myself but Cordelia was right. I hadn't left my whole life behind in another country to be murdered within my first month of freedom. "I've been meaning to talk to you for the last couple days but things just keep getting in the way. Life always gets a bit crazy when we have new arrivals. I would like you to come to my office so we can catch up on how you have been settling in. Also, I'd like to do a quick evaluation of your abilities, due to the distressed state you were in when you arrived. It probably wasn't a fair judgment of your capabilities." Cordelia softly placed her hand over mine, stopping my fidgeting fingers. Her skin was warm and surprising soft like silk. The contact was heavenly and I could have stayed in this moment forever if the universe had allowed it. But the anxiety crept back with the thought of the distressed state I had indeed been in when arriving at the academy. I hadn't thought about it today until now. It had been nice to live in ignorance for the short time. "Do you think you would be able to swing by after dinner tonight? Don't worry about the dishes, one of the other girls will take your shift." Cordelia said, answering my question before I even had a chance to ask it. It was almost as if she could see my thoughts in writing. God, that would be a disaster if it were true. All the innocent I projected would be gone with the brutality of my unholy thoughts. I liked the idea of skipping the chores that we had been giving since last week when the number of girls was too much for the staff and the few maids to clean up after. "Manual Labour builds character" Kyle, the butler had told the whiny girls in the kitchen. "Of course Miss. Goode." I replied, forcing a smile, across my nervous expression. It's not like I minded the thought of being alone with the women of my dreams but at the same time, the idea caused my anxiety-ridden demons to claw there way out of their dark hiding place. "Call me Cordelia, just between the two of us," Cordelia said, patting my hand that she still held tenderly. I couldn't help but smile goofily. "I better get back inside, any moment we are likely to hear Myrtle's voice." Cordelia laughed, squeezing my hand before she pushed her slender body up, gently wiping the loose grass that had stuck to her skirt. Cordelia smiled down at me. "I'll see you at dinner." She said before turning her back. No force could pull my gaze away from her as she gracefully made her way to the back door. I blinked when she disappeared into the house, the door swinging shut with a thud behind her. I couldn't help but smile to myself as the last few minutes replayed in my head. I glanced down at the grass in front of me, my eyes settling on the tarnished patch from where I had put my joint out. I extended my hand, lightly covering it. My eyes fluttered closed and I felt a familiar tingling in my fingers as the sunlight caressed my face. A surreal image of a luscious field of natural grasses lay behind my eyelids. The wind blew the praise plants that I had seen every day for the last 20 years of my life, as I began to feel the grass beneath my skin tickling between my digits. I wiggled my fingers slightly as I continued to study the blades of grass in my mind. After a few moments, I opened my eyes lazily and was pleased to see the once grey and burnt grass had grown taller than the lawn around it, and the colour repaired to the deep shade of green. I giggled and let my body weight pull me back, releasing a deep sigh as my body collided with the ground under me. The sun shone beautifully through the live oaks above. Maybe things would turn around. After all, this was a safe haven and if happiness lived somewhere, it would surely be in a place like this.

[ererokii]

Birthday Kisses || Ochako Uraraka

Ochako Uraraka x Fem! Reader

Warnings: none!

Word Count: 4745

Synopsis: Your birthday has arrived and Uraraka has a sweet surprise for you on your special day.

This is for the @bnhabookclub bingo event!

Prompt: Suprise Birthday Party

Bingo Masterlist

Taglist (DM me to be apart): @shoutodoki @shoutosplaything @lady-bakuhoe @stupidbuttwaifu @sugacookiies @kingtamakimurder

Once again this is for my girl Tima except... HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO @saltie !!! I KNOW TODAY ISNT YOUR BIRTHDAY BUT I COULDNT WAIT ANY LONGER!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND EVEN THOUGH WE ONLY KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR LITTLE TIME I TRUST YOU SO SO MUCH, HAVE AN AMAZING DAY WHEN YOUR BIRTHDAY ARRIVES BB💘💘

Uraraka was fond of birthdays. Whether it was her own or someone else’s. She always wanted to know the details about it. She had a bad case of ruining surprises, but she promised Mina that she would stay quiet since she did ruin the surprise when it was Denki’s birthday.

You were ecstatic about your birthday. Your birthday was something that you always loved to celebrate with people. This one however was more special because you had your now girlfriend with you, Ochako Uraraka.

Both of you have been dating for a little over a year. You remembered being the stuttering mess as you handed her flowers as you concentrated on asking her on a date. Panicked at your outburst it led to her crying, leading up to your nervous breakdown, which she comforted you right after. Needless to say, a beautiful relationship blossomed.

Uraraka slowly opened your door, peeking her head through the open slit as her eyes focused on the lump of your body on your bed, covered in blankets. At the sight of you, her mouth tugged in a smile as she fully opened the door to let her body in, making her way towards the curtains.

“Up up Y/N!” She cheered and swung them open, the shining light of the sun immediately hitting your face. Your whine resonated throughout the room as you buried your face in your pillow, nuzzling into it. “No..”

“No?! Why not?!”

“Early..” you mumbled and felt yourself drift back into your deep slumber that she awakened you from.

“Eh?!” She pouted and walked over to your bed, letting herself sit beside your curled up body in the cocoon of blankets. “But Y/N it’s your birthday!” She said, hopefully, it would snap you out of your daze.

You froze before shifting your body, turning your back to face her. “Early.”

A groan left her lips as she came behind you, placing her hands on your side as she started shaking you. “Why am I more excited than you?! Come on baby get up!!” She dragged her words in a whine as she felt you squirm underneath her until you finally looked up to face her.

“Because you weren’t up late last night” you yawned, a hand covering your mouth. You stretched your legs and let out a groan, feeling the sleep wash away from you. “What time is it anyway?”

“It’s about 10 AM.”

Oh. Guess it wasn’t early as you thought it was.

“Fine fine” you grumble as you sat up, her body moving to allow her to sit on her knees. A hand came and cradled your cheek as her lips kissed the tip of your nose. “I’ll be downstairs waiting for you okay?”

“But you just came here and now I don’t want you to leave me Ocha” you quickly wrapped your arms around her, bringing the brunette close to your body as she let out a surprised squeak at your motions.

She quickly shook herself out of her shock as she copied your motion, wrapping her arms around your body, her head resting on top of yours that was on her chest.

It was a peaceful silence between the two of you. It was never awkward. As you had your head on her chest, you were listening to the beat of her heart. It put on a smile on your face knowing she was here with you, in the now.

One of her fingers dragged themselves on the bare skin of your lower back, her pads rubbing small circles.

“I feel like I can fall asleep again…” you whispered against her clothing, your eyes getting heavier by the second.

“No!” She suddenly pushed you off and stood up quickly. “You get up and get ready while I’ll be downstairs okay?”

A pout formed at your lips as you nodded. “Fine. I’ll get up in a bit”

A goofy smile appeared on her face as she made her way to the door. “Don’t take long... Even though you will!” She teased and slipped out, shutting the door behind her.

After watching her leave, a happy sigh escaped your lips as you fell back against the bed, arms lifted in the air with raised fists. “Eighteen..” you whispered to yourself. A grin broke out on your face as you let out a squeal of happiness, immediately jumping out of bed and rushing over to your drawer to get yourself some clothes.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

You walked down the stairs into the common room where the rest of class 3-A was at.

“Y/N Happy Birthday babe!!” Mina yelled out in excitement as she threw herself at you, immediately latching onto you. “You’re so old now!! Welcome to the club!”

A laugh left your lips as you shook your head, squeezing the girl back in a hug. “Thank you, Mina! Happy to be an old lady beside you now!”

“Hey, you can’t just hog her up for yourself Mina!” A pouty Denki said from behind her, his arms crossed over his chest as he tapped his foot against the ground impatiently. “We want to give her hugs too!”

Mina let out a dramatic sigh as she pulled away from you. “Don’t mess her up you got that?”

“How can I when you already did?! Come here!” He grabbed you by your wrist and brought you to his chest, lifting you off the ground in a warm welcoming hug. “Happy Birthday Y/N! How do you feel?!”

“The same as yesterday!” You placed your hands on his shoulders for stability. “Maybe a bit better today!”

“Now that’s what I like to hear!”

“Not very manly to hold another person’s girl like that Kaminari!”

“Oh please!” He brushed it off with an eye roll and turned to Ochako, you still in his arms. “You don’t mind me holding her like this right?!”

“I don’t because I know she wouldn’t like someone like you,” she replied, a smile on her lips.

He gasped in feigned hurt, putting you back down on the floor as he placed a hand on his chest in an offended way. “What’s that supposed to mean?! Any girl wants me!”

“Then where’s your fucking girlfriend hah?! I don’t see one!!” Bakugo yelled from the table, his forefinger pointing in accusation.

“I don’t remember seeing you with one either!! You’re too scary for girls!!”

“What did you say?! Did you lose your brain already or are you just that stupid?! I’ll kill you!!”

“Kaminari! Bakugo! No yelling at this hour! It will awaken everyone else here!”

Everyone was already in the room but let Iida talk on.

An invisible hand wrapped around your wrist as you got tugged away, stumbling as you had no chance but to follow. “H-Hey!”

“Happy Birthday! We made you breakfast! Now sit down and eat!!”

“Happy Birthday Y/N-Chan,” Asui said from across the table beside Jirou and Momo.

You were pushed into a chair rather abruptly as you stared down at the plate filled with your favorite things for breakfast. “No way!!” You gasped and looked up excitedly at your friends. “You did this for me?!”

“Course we did Y/N-San!” Momo’s eyes glimmered in glee, hands locked together, and brought up to the side of her face. “It was Ochako’s idea and we wanted to help!”

As on cue, the brunette made her way over and placed her hands on your shoulders from behind, leaning over and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek. “Eat up Y/N. You wouldn’t want it to go bad would you?”

Your neck heated up as it reached the front of your face to the tips of your ears. “N-No. Thank you, guys. Thank you Ochako” you whispered the last part and kissed her softly, placing a hand on the swell of her cheek. She immediately kissed back and deepened it, her hand bringing your head closer.

“Woah woah!” Jirou shook her head as her hands waved in front of her in attempts to stop you both. “We get you guys are in love but let the birthday girl eat! Get a room later but not now!”

Ochako pulled away, a small smirk at the corner of her lips at the sight of your disheveled face, panting softly as she fully stood up.

“Sorry guys!” She said sweetly and clapped her hands together. “Can’t help it sometimes! Can you blame a girl?”

“Yes, we can pink cheeks!!”

“Can it Bakubro!! It’s super manly in my opinion! But for girls!” Kirishima yelled and shook his head in disapproval at Bakugo’s words. “It’s amazing! You just can’t see it. Don’t let him get you down Uraraka!” He said in reassurance, sending a peace sign her way as she sent him on back.

“So Y/N” Todoroki started as he leaned against the wall, watching you eat your breakfast. “What did you want to do today?”

You looked up at him and swallowed, wiping your mouth with a napkin. “I’m not sure yet. Ochako said she wanted to go out and do some things then come back. She didn’t tell me what though”

He nodded, shoving his hands into his front pockets as his posture had a slight hunch. “I’m sure whatever she has in store will be fun.”

You smiled faintly and nodded. “Yeah me too.”

Before he could open his mouth Mineta let out a sob. “Why can’t I?! Come on let me touch them!!”

“Mineta chill dude! You aren’t touching Y/N!”

“Why?! She’s a total babe! Just once! I can say I touched a hot lady!!”

“You are so gross, man!” Sero gagged and taped Mineta’s mouth shut. The purple balled boy screamed into the tape as he tried his best to take it off.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

“You guys got it right?” Ochako whispered lowly to Deku as she eyed you by the door, watching you put your shoes on. “We shouldn’t be back for maybe another 6 hours or so. You guys can get it done in time?”

Deku nodded and clenched his fist in determination. “We do! You can count on us! Just make sure if you end early to just keep her occupied!”

Ochako nodded in agreement as she grabbed her bag, putting her arms through the straps. She fixed the sleeves of her white t-shirt and flattened out her plaid skirt. “Alright then. I trust you guys, don’t mess it up! Or else!”

“Or else what?” Deku asked but immediately regretted, tensing up at the glare she sent his way. “There will be no what else” she said then smiled, rubbing the back of her head. “Anyway, we gotta get going!”

She made her over to you, fixing the straps of her backpack. “All ready to go?”

You nodded in enthusiasm.

You were wearing a denim overall dress with an off the shoulder white long sleeve underneath. A simple outfit that had Ochako swooning for you.

“Let’s go! What do we have planned for today!”

Ochako let out a small breath and shrugged, a playful smile on her lips. “I don’t have anything! We’ll just see where fate takes us!”

“Eh?! Thought you had things planned for us!”

“Only way you would get up! We’ll be back!” She pushed you out the door quickly, turning around as she faced the rest of your class. “Don’t mess up! I’m counting on you guys!”

“Go go shoo!” Mina waved her off with both hands. “You got me and the rest of us! We know what our girl likes!”

“Good! Bye!” Ochako’s head disappeared from behind the door as it slammed shut.

A sigh of relief fell from Mina’s lips as she turned a full three-sixty to face everyone. “We probably have at least 5 hours or more! That gives us enough time to get everything done if we don’t slack off!” She said, a tone of authority evident in her voice.

“Sero, Kaminari, and Kirishima are on decoration duty! The girls will be focusing on the food except for Jirou and Asui!! We don’t trust you guys with the stove plus if there’s a fire Momo can make fire extinguishers! Oijirou, Sato, Tokoyami along with Jirou and Asui, you guys will be buying her the gifts! We all pitched in so it should be enough for more than one present!” She yelled, hands on her hips.

“Bakugo, Deku, Todoroki, and Iida will be for the drinks! Along with watch duty!”

“Hah?! I got paired with icy-hot?!”

“And Mineta!” She ignored Bakugo and stared down at the little pervert who stared up at her with the utmost glee displayed in his eyes. She cringed and backed up. “Don’t get in the way and help. Let’s get started, people!”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

You and Ochako walked down the busy streets of Musutafu, swinging your conjoined hands. You expected Ochako to have a plan for the both of you, considering she was the one who always came up with places you guys should go.

“So..” you spoke up and looked over at her. “You have nothing planned?”

She swiftly shook her head and turned a corner, a fountain coming into view with benches surrounding it. “Nope! This is just an adventure without a plan. We’re gonna do what you want even though you might not know yourself. But first, let me get some photos of you.”

“M-me?!” you gasped, your cheeks a darker tone than your natural pigment. “Why?!”

“To celebrate and keep these photos for memory.” She said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and sat you down in front of the fountain. “Now just sit there and be your pretty self.” You twiddled your fingers as you lowered your head in embarrassment. “I-in the middle of the city?! Can’t this wait Ocha?”

“Now is the best time Y/N. This is a big destination for photos.”

She was right. It was smack dab in the middle of the city, benches, and trees surrounding the area to give it a delicate but beautiful background, plus the stores brought out the busy view. Perfect for a photoshoot in her eyes.

“How many photos then?”

She thought about it then shrugged. “As many as I want. Plus I’m going to ask someone random to take a couple of both of us.”

Oh, she was going all out for it.

You nodded and fixed your hair, and posed however she wanted you.

A small smile appeared on her face as she snapped yet another photo of you. No other girl could compare to you in her eyes. In her eyes, you were the only girl that mattered to her. She would do anything for you and would do anything to protect you from any harm. As she held up a finger indicating that she was looking, she swiped through each photo, her love for you growing stronger at the sight of your smile that was meant for her eyes only.

“Beautiful as always huh Y/N?!” She laughed and approached a young couple. “Do you think you could take a picture or two of us?” she motioned to you sitting by yourself on the bench as you played with the pocket of your overall.

The girl smiled and nodded excitedly. “I would love too!” she followed Uraraka and took the given phone to her as Ochako sat beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, squeezing the bare skin.

You shivered at the skin on skin contact and ignored the goosebumps that formed. “Plus this will make a great home screen! Don’t you think Y/N-Chan?”

You meekly nodded and looked up before the photos started to be taken.

After a couple of poses which consisted of squishing your face against Ochako’s, her placing a kiss on your cheek and vice versa, and a final one of the both of you sharing a sweet kiss.

“Thanks again!” Ochako waved at the couple in which the girl returned the wave before walking off with her boyfriend.

“Do they look good?” You asked and peeked over her shoulder to look at her phone. “Course they look good! You’re in them after all!”

You fumbled over your words as you scratched the back of your head, cheeks flaring up. “Y-yeah well so are you!”

“Aww Y/N you’re so cute!” She laughed and placed a quick kiss on your cheek before grabbing your hand. “Are you getting thirsty?”

“Mm… yeah a little bit but not to ba-“

She let out a noise that stopped you from finishing and nodded her head, pointing in the direction of a bakery. “Then let’s go! I’m sure they have your favorite!”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

You quietly sipped on your strawberry milk as you watched Ochako speak on the phone with whoever it was.

“Is it going fine then?” She whispered, placing a hand over the phone so you wouldn’t hear who was on the other end.

“Yes! At least I’d say so! I sent Todoroki, Bakugo, Deku, and Iida to get drinks! They’ve been gone for quite some time so I’m hoping they didn’t kill each other just yet!” Mina said on the other line.

In the background, you could hear Momo’s yelling at Sero and Kaminari for popping balloons with Sero’s tape. “Now is not the time to mess around!!”

Mina let out a nervous chuckle as she rubbed the back of her neck. “Don’t worry everything is fine! Do you guys plan on going to the mall by any chance?”

“Uh-huh. I told Y/N we could buy her some new clothes.”

“Uh oh ..”

Ochako narrowed her eyes as she began to pace back and forth. “What do you mean uh oh? What’s the uh oh?”

“Well, you see I sent Jirou, Asui, Oijirou, Sato, and Tokoyami to go buy her gifts at the mall… so there is a high chance you’ll possibly bump into them”

“For real?”

“Yes for real”

Ochako let out a frustrated groan and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I already told Y/N we’re going. Can you at least give them a heads up that we’re gonna be there too?”

“Yeah of course! Plus you can always hide in the girls bathroom and maybe make out!”

Ochako’s pink cheeks darkened as she kicked at the cement. “Don’t say things like that! Just let them know okay?!”

Mina let out a cheeky laugh. “Yup! Bye!”

Ochako hung up and held the phone to her cheek letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Just avoiding people is easy right..yeah totally easy” she mumbled and put her phone in her bag.

“Ocha? Is something wrong?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowed as you stood up.

“Yeah, everything is okay. Did you still want to go to the mall?”

You nodded excitedly. “I do! Unless you wanted to do something else?”

“No, we’re going to the mall. And we’re taking the train that is leaving soon so we best make a move on” she reached for your hand and immediately began to drag you in the direction of the train which you hopelessly followed her.

Eventually, the both of you were cramped up in the train, her body pushed up against yours from behind. Her hands placed themselves on her hips as your head laid against her collarbone.

The soft light of the afternoon sun beamed on the both of you, flooding on your skin in a soft yellow haze. Her hand made its way up the supple skin of your arm until she reached your collarbone, tracing it with her fingernail. “I almost didn’t see you wearing this” she spoke quietly, a rose gold chain resting in between her fingers that had an open locket.

“Course I did. You gave it to me and I adore it” a smile made its way to your lips as her chin rested on your shoulder. “I think it looks beautiful on you, after all, I do have a beautiful girlfriend.”

You hummed in acknowledgment and leaned over, giving her a gentle kiss.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

“Okay balloons check! The cake is good! Drinks are all here! You got her presents! Oh by the way did you see them?! Oh well who cares, it doesn't matter!” Mina yelled at the top of her lungs, checking off everything to make sure it was ready.

It was at about 6 PM. You and Ochako left at 10:30 so you were bound to show up at any minute.

“Alright Sero you’re in charge of turning the light off!”

Sero stared at the pink-haired girl and scratched the back of his head, the other hand lifting in a questioning manner. “Does it matter who does it? It’s as long as it’s dark right?”

“I don’t care! You do it and that’s it! This is Y/N we’re talking about!”

She glanced over by the window where Midoryia and Iida stood, staring at the arrival of both of you.

“Anything yet Midoryia?”

He shook his head quickly. “No sign of them yet! Uraraka messaged me no longer than 5 minutes that they’re almost he- HERE!” He yelled and pointed at the door. “They’re coming up now!!”

Her eyes widened as everyone scrambled to their designated places— which was just to hide.

“Sero get th-“

“I know!” The black-haired boy yelled interrupting her mid-sentence and turned the lights off, leaving everyone in pitch-black darkness.

“Ow! Who is there?! I’ll kill you!!” Bakugo yelled, small explosions forming in the palm of his hands.

“That’s dangerous!” Kaminari yelled and backed away from Bakugo, bumping into another body in the process.

“Shut up!!” Mina yelled and pressed her ear against the door. “I can hear them! Okay, everyone be quiet!”

Bakugo opened his mouth to retort something but got tape slapped across his face again. His screams came out muffled.

“I really can’t thank you enough Ocha! I had an amazing time with you today” you said, your hand wrapped around her bicep as your head was resting against her shoulder.

She kissed the crown of your head as you guys approached the doors to 3-A Dorms. “It’s even better when it’s just the two of us” you added on.

“Yeah? I’m glad. I had fun with you too. Hopefully, we can have more dates like this again in the future!” Her hand reached out and bit her lip.

‘Please tell me it’s ready’ she thought, having a mental panic.

“Babe? The door? What’s wrong is it locked?” You stepped closer and placed your hand on top of hers.

“N-no!” She yelled, startling you in the process. “It’s not locked see?!” She twisted the knob that allowed the door to open slightly. “It’s open! Haha, let's go in! Yeah!” She said quickly and swung the door open, grabbing you by your wrist and quickly covered your eyes with her hands.

“H-Hey I can’t see now! Take your hands off!”

Both of you shuffled inside the pitch-black room as both of you stood with what seemed like the middle of the room. The pressure of her hands relieved, her head lowering and you could feel the small puffs of hot air near your ear.

“Happy Birthday Y/N”

The lights suddenly flickered on as your classmates jumped out of their hiding spots, all popping the party poppers and canned streamers.

“SURPRISE!!”

Your eyes widened as you took a step back, placing a hand on your chest. “Y-you guys did this for me?!”

“We did! Are you surprised?!” Hagakure said from the further end of the room, standing next to the table that was full of assortments.

“Hah! I bet she almost pissed herself!” Bakugo laughed mockingly, the party popper that was in his hand was long gone, resting against the floor.

“Whatever! All that matters is that we show Y/N how much we appreciate her! Would be a waste if all our hard work went to waste right?!” Kirishima yelled, hitting his knuckles together as he activated his quirk to prove his point.

Everyone cheered in unison. You were dragged to the kitchen as you were bombarded by many gifts and treats.

“Turns out we can’t bake!” Momo said sheepishly, rubbing the nape of her neck in embarrassment as her cheeks were tinted. “But Sato here helped us instead!”

Sato brushed it off with a laugh. “It was nothing! I would have helped regardless!”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

The night ended with your friends singing you happy birthday in the most off-key voice. If you were honest you would of flat out told them that it sucked but at the moment you were too busy enjoying yourself to say anything.

“Oh thank you Todoroki! You didn’t have to help me bring them!”

“Nonsense” with a shake of his head he placed your gifts by your desk. “There was a lot and you would have kept going back and forth. I don’t mind”

With an exchange of small talk, Todoroki left your room with a quick stiff hug and a wave.

You hummed softly and took the gifts out of their boxes or bags and began to neatly line them up on your work desk, debating on whether to fully put them away in the morning.

The squeak of your door caught your attention as  Ochako walked in, closing the door behind her. She was currently in her night gear, holding a plush animal in her arms.

“Not bothering you right?” She asked and sat down on your bed, watching as you moved quicker to finish taking everything out. “You never do Ocha. That’s a cute stuffie, is it new?”

“Yeah guess you can say that. It’s for you anyway”

“For me?” You turned on your heel and walked over to her as she nodded, lifting it for you to grab. “I made sure for them to buy you it specifically with my money. Do you like it?”

It was a tan and white Shiba Inu stuffed animal. It looked like a pillow more than anything with it being so big.

“I love it!” You cried out and took it from her, holding it close to your chest as you squished it, letting out little noises of excitement. “More to add to my collection!”

“And that’s exactly why I got it for you.”

She stuck her hand out for you to grab. “Come on. Lets lay down yeah? It’s been a long day and I’m kinda beat”

You pouted but took her hand. “But I’m not ready for my birthday to be over yet.”

Her gaze softened as the both of you went under the covers of your bed. “Not yet? What did you want to do?”

A shrug of your shoulders, you reached over your side and turned the lamp off, letting the room be filled with complete darkness. You reached for her hand, interlocking your fingers together. With a squeeze, you looked back up at the outline of her face. “Not sure. But I want to stay awake for a bit more at this moment. If that’s okay with you of course”

“Course I don’t mind baby. You know I’ll do anything for you.”

A smile crossed your lips as your legs tangled together with hers under the heavy blankets, an arm wrapping around your body to bring her closer to you. “I know. Thank you”

“You’re welcome but what for?”

“For being here with me. I appreciate you in ways that I can’t express with words...I just love you so much Ocha.”

Her heart ached at your confession as she quickly reciprocated your motion. “And I love you just as much or if not, even more.”

She buried her head into your hair, a whiff of your lavender shampoo hitting her nose and giving her a sense of satisfaction. She let out a small hum as her fingers wandered on the small of your back, your body shivering from her touch.

Part of her still couldn’t believe that you were hers. That you were the one who saw her at her most vulnerable state. That you were the one who saw all parts of her, inside and out. You were the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. You were her rock, her home, her angel. And she didn’t plan on letting go any time soon.

She closed her eyes for a second and let out a small sigh of happiness. It may have been your birthday, but having you in her arms was the only gift she could ever ask for.

[maraudersandlily20]

this one's sad but something about Harry and Remus after Sirius's death?

There was, in the days after Sirius’s death, a moment when Harry felt the real impact of everything that had happened. He was sitting alone, half way into the water, his pants soaking. The rational part of Harry told him that he could catch cold, sitting in the water, or that there were creatures under the surface that were full of malintent.  But, the rest of his mind that was numb and seeking the grounding of anything physical to the world thought that sitting in the water was as good as he was going to get.

It was late June, and he could feel it. The air was growing warmer and everywhere on the school grounds was the feelings of anticipation of summer break. Harry had been excited about the summer months just a few weeks before, looking forward to when he would get to spend a lot of quality time with...

The numbness sunk in again. He had been walking in a daze, unable to process what people were saying to him, or if he was actually existing the past few days. He couldn’t quite get a foot into reality. He couldn’t sleep, he barely ate. He simply didn’t feel like it. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the dark curtain that waved dramatically as his person fell through. So he tried to keep his eyes open.

Harry was lost in thought, feeling the cold water splash against his skin, and so he didn’t see Remus standing a bit away, watching him, carrying a small note from Minerva. She had practically begged him to visit the school and try to get through to Harry. Since his explosion in Dumbledore’s office, he had become practically a walking corpse.

Remus understood, of course. That feeling of grief was one he was quite familiar with. It had been his close and faithful companion since he was 17 years old. But he worried. He worried how someone as broken as he would be able to comfort another broken person.

He took a deep breath before taking off his shoes and his socks and wading into the water til he was standing beside Harry. The water was cold, but not unbearable. Harry had no reaction to his presence, didn’t even spare him a glance, but that didn’t deter Remus. He simply sat down, submerging his lower half, like Harry had done, and looked out across the water. It felt like someone’s cruel idea of a joke, that the world was so warm and bright, so open and free, and these two people only felt darkness.

“Minerva asked me to check on you,” Remus said, his voice a whisper. Harry nodded, but said nothing. Remus was unsure of himself, unsure of what Harry needed, and so he opened his mouth and let whatever he wanted come out.

“My mother passed away when I was 17. She was sick for a long time. I had used her illness as an excuse for my monthly disappearances, but there was some truth to it in the end.” Remus grabbed a handful of dirt and pebbles, watching them sift through his hands and away with the lapping water, repeating the movement again and again.

“It was cancer. Such a silly muggle illness with no rhyme or reason to it. My father didn’t recognize the signs until it was too late. For some reason, magic couldn’t heal her, and neither could the muggle doctors. And she died. It was... hard. Hard to bear. Hard to find that my mother had died due to an illness I couldn’t prevent.”

Harry was quiet, the words of his old friend starting to penetrate his mind. He realized he didn’t know much about Remus Lupin, and found himself curious to the point of the story. 

“I always thought that I would end up killing my mother. Whether it be from stress or an accident during shifting. It was always a looming thought over my head every time I went home. But it never happened. I would go home and my mother would bake, and we would fish, or pick flowers, or garden. She had this little pack of ducklings that treated her like a mother and followed her every move whenever she stepped outside.” His eyes grew misty and he smiled. “I haven’t thought about those ducks in a while.” He looked over to Harry, who was still looking away, but Remus could tell he was listening. 

“it’s interesting, when I remember her death now. I don’t remember much of the actual day, but I remember the day before, when I spent the afternoon in the hospital. She had been feeling uncharacteristically well. She asked me for an arm and she pulled her I.V. along with her. We looked quite a sight, I’m sure, but mom didn’t mind. She just wanted to walk. We went through the entire floor, saying hello to familiar nurses and friends that she had made.” Remus turned his eyes to the horizon, as if picturing it all like he was there again. There was a bit of silence, as if Remus was gathering his strength about the whole thing. He hadn’t spoken about these experiences for many years, and it was easy to tell. Harry let his gaze wander over to him, noticing his sad but touched expression. 

Remus pushed on. “We talked about anything and everything, from flowers to bees to the type of parchment to use. She asked me about the future, what I wanted to be when I grew up, what I was looking for in someone I loved. I don’t know if my mom knew about me and Sirius, but I assume she did. We were writing to each other constantly and I have never been one to hide my feelings very well.”

Remus turned slightly, trying to face Harry more in the water. The young boy looked up at him, his eyes red. He pulled them off of his face and tucked them into his shirt. “Go on,” he said, his voice quiet.

“When I left the hospital, I asked my mother if she could do one thing in the whole world, what it would be. And you know what she said? She said, I wish I could sit in my garden and watch the sunset, and feel the love of the world forever.” Remus rubbed at the tears coming out of his eyes, but he was smiling. 

“After she died, I was sitting in front of her grave, asking her why she had to go so soon, why she couldn’t have fought just a little harder. Why she had left me alone in such a scary time. I stayed there for hours, watching as the sun got deeper in the sky. I felt very very very alone.” 

“Did Sirius show up?” Harry asked, sounding very much like a boy who had had a bad dream.

“He did.” Remus pulled up his knees and rested his arms on top of them. “My father probably told him where I was. He came and sat beside me, just like this, not saying a word. He loved me in a way I had never been loved, but in that moment, I think he understood me more than he ever had.” He sighed, deeply, like he couldn’t get enough oxygen to clear out the feelings he had inside. “We sat in front of her grave in silence until Sirius told me the story of how he had gone to the hospital to visit her, without me knowing. He had bought her flowers and read her a book, and stayed there for hours til the nurses kicked him out. I asked why he had never told me. And I’ll never forget what he said.”

Remus looked over at Harry, his tears coming in earnest. “He said, “I didn’t go for you. I went because, if Hope Lupin could raise someone as good as you, then maybe she could have something good for me.” He shook his head. “He went because of the person she was, and wanted to take a little bit of that for himself.”

Harry looked ahead again, watching the sunlight shimmer against the water as they sat in silence. “He told me, you know.” Harry said finally. Remus looked over at him curiously. “He told me about you and him. He told me how you had loved each other when you were younger, like how my dad and mom had loved each other. He said, though, that now it was different. You both had changed too much to ever find your way back to each other like you had before.” Harry turned to him “Was that true?”

“Partly,” came the quiet response. “The boy that fell in love with Sirius Black didn’t exist when Sirius’ name was cleared. In his place was a tired old man who had seen enough heartache to last a lifetime. It was... difficult. To let him back in. But we tried. We tried so hard. When you love someone that much, Harry, you would do anything to make things work.”

Harry nodded. His gaze landed in his lap, where his hands were soaking in the cold water. “I don’t think Sirius was afraid of anything,” he whispered. “Even when he was alone and hiding, he always pushed on and came out the winner. He seemed so fearless, so... invincible.”

“Sirius was stronger than anyone I had ever met before, except my mother.” Remus agreed before placing a soft hand on Harry’s arm. “But you’re wrong. He was afraid of one thing; he was afraid of what this world would do to you. He was afraid of how you would see him. He was afraid that you would lose the parts of yourself that made you... you. The ones that seemed ingrained into you, the parts that you inherited from your parents. He was afraid of seeing you broken. He was not stronger than that fear. It was with him every moment of every day. It was his worst nightmare.”

For the first time in days, Harry felt tears rush to the surface and pour out of his eyes. He cried, thinking of the one person in the world who saw him, who loved him, who would have taken care of him, and how that person was gone. “I don’t know how to do it, Remus,” he sobbed, his voice catching. “I don’t know how to go on without him. I’m so tired of losing everyone I love. But I never thought I’d- I never thought I’d lose him.”

It was then that Remus crossed the invisible line between them and wrapped the boy in his arms in a hug. Harry let out a gasping cry, clinging tight to the only person who seemed to understand his grief. It was a pain in his chest that he thought might never be filled. 

“I wish I could say it got easier,” Remus said, stroking Harry’s hair comfortingly. “I wish I could say that one day, you’ll wake up and be perfectly fine. But you won’t.” He pulled back. “Losing someone you love doesn’t get better, it doesn’t miraculously heal. It leaves a hole inside of you that cannot be filled by anyone else. And though it doesn’t go away, you start to learn to live with it. It takes a lot of time. But it happens.”

Harry pulled away, wiping his nose with his shirt. “I just wish there was a place for him. A place that we could go to talk to him. But there’s nothing left. Just... emptiness, just the lack of him.”

Remus perked, having an idea. “Come with me,” he said, rising from the water and watching as the droplets fell off him. He offered Harry a hand and watched as the boy rose. They looked quite the sight, their lower halves completely drenched. But Remus ignored it and pushed on. 

He and Harry walked toward the large whomping willow which was swaying slightly in the June breeze. As they approached, it was like it sensed them and perked up in case of danger. But Remus started to whistle and the tree grew still. He bent over and picked up a flat stone before making his way to the trunk of the tree. Harry didn’t understand what they were doing, but watched like he was hypnotized. Remus took out his wand and whispered a spell under his breath before beginning to write on the stone. When he finished, he held it up for Harry to see. “Here lies Sirius Orion Black. The only person in the world brighter than the star he was named for.”

Remus bent over to place the stone against the trunk of the tree and patted the bark. “Sirius always loved this tree. He said it was misunderstood and mistreated, just like him, but when you stopped for a moment and tried to see the beauty of it, tried to understand why it acted certain ways, it became less of a threat and more of a beauty. And I have never looked at this tree the same since.”

“Sirius was always good at seeing things differently, seeing both sides of things.” Harry murmured. “He never wanted anyone to feel the way he had growing up, with a family that didn’t love or understand him. I think his desire to see the best in every second is what’ll I’ll miss the most.”

“Hmm,” came the soft reply. “I think I will miss his ability to make any moment a moment of light, with just his smile. I don’t think I’ll ever see anything like it again.”

Harry leaned over and wrapped his arm around Remus’ waist. “I’m sorry you lost him.” he said, letting the tears stream from his eyes.

“I’m sorry you lost him too,” Remus answered.

And they stood there, under Sirius’ misunderstood tree, looking at a stone that bore his name and encapsulated just a bit of his spirit, and felt the loss of their person together. It was heavy and dark, but the memory of him gave Harry a moment of peace. And he had hope that the hole that Remus talked about might become less looming and more manageable, like a friend that would remind him of how not to take good things for granted, and to look for beauty in unexpected places.

[vannahfanfics]

Sentimentality

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Mashirao Ojiro, Tooru Hagakure

Hi, everyone! Here again, with another story in association with the @bnhabookclub​ Bingo Event, this time for the prompt "Stealing Clothes"! I hope you enjoy it! 

A lost sock is an inevitability. A misplaced tee-shirt or pair of shorts is a likelihood. Hell, even leaving a jacket behind on one's school desk isn't exactly an uncommon occurrence. Mashirao definitely had misplaced some clothing articles in his life, for sure. Yet… He wasn't sure he was air-headed enough to lose an entire half of his wardrobe. Well, half was an exaggeration, but three tee-shirts and a hoodie in two days was just plain suspicious. 

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he inspected the empty hangers in his closet. Yep. There are definitely more of them than usual, he concluded with a puzzled hum. He wouldn't consider them clothes that were particularly worth stealing; it wasn't like the thief could pawn them online and make a substantial amount. No, that wasn't the motive. Maybe I should ask Tooru. She's friends with Mina, and Mina knows everyone's secrets. He suddenly narrowed his eyes. Come to think of it… I haven't seen Tooru at all these past two days. 

It was easy to miss an invisible girl, even when she was dressed in a school uniform or fluffy pajamas, but Mashirao genuinely couldn't recall seeing her in the past forty-eight hours. Friday afternoon after class, she had stumbled off to her bedroom, and had been suspiciously absent ever since. He had not seen her at meals, though he dimly recalled Ochako mentioning she would take plates to the girl later. It was now late Sunday evening. Could she be sick? He wondered and rubbed the back of his neck. The riddle of his missing clothes would likely remain unsolved, so at the very least, he ought to crack the mystery of a missing invisible girl. 

The wooden planks thrummed with his footfalls as he meandered to the girls' side of the dorms. The rest of the students were downstairs in the common room; Mashirao had been there as well, and had only left to finish his laundry, wherein he discovered the missing clothing articles. The dormitory halls were eerily silent as he proceeded towards Tooru's room. When he arrived, he cleared his throat loudly before knocking on the door. 

"Hagakure? Are you all right in there?" A wheedling, pitiful whine bled through the wood. It prickled the hairs on the back of his neck; she sounded downright miserable. He could faintly hear her whimpering within, and the bed groaning as she tossed and turned. Mashirao thoughtfully chewed on the inside of his cheek. Just barging in is rude, but she sounds like she's in a lot of pain… The proper thing to do is check on her, right? He tried the doorknob, and it turned with no resistance. "Hagakure, I'm coming in." 

The room was shrouded in darkness; Tooru's thick curtains were drawn over the window, blotting out the light from the night sky. Mashirao wrinkled his nose at the acrid scent of sweat staining the air. "Hagakure?" He called softly. Her bed was a mass of blankets and sheets and pillows, tangled and disarrayed. The lump of cloth wriggled a bit, and a muffled, pained moan sounded from within the mass. "You okay?"

"No," she whimpered in response. Mashirao spied several empty water bottles on the ground and a half-empty one on her nightstand. He plodded closer to see a small, aluminum dish filled with generic fever reducers and pain relievers. His eyes swept to the bed as it wiggled some more, and her head popped up. The only way he knew it was her head was because of the damp dishcloth draped over her invisible forehead. "I'm on my period."

Mashirao's cheeks turned the color of the Tylenol pills in the dish. Mashirao only had marginal experience with girls; of course, he knew what a period was and that they were extraordinarily unpleasant, but… That was it. Coughing uncomfortably, he scratched at the scrubby blonde hairs at the nape of his neck. 

"Oh," he said simply. He frowned as Tooru whimpered again and wound the thick comforter between her fingers. Dark patches of discoloration appeared in the imprint of her sweaty hands. "Is there anything I can do to help?" He inquired gently. 

"I feel bad," she pouted. "Ochako and Momo and Mina have been offering all weekend to stay with me, but… That's not fair. I can manage all right! Please go enjoy yourself with the others."

"I'll stay with you if that's what you want. I can't enjoy myself knowing you're suffering up here all alone." He couldn't see her expression, but he fancied that a relieved smile formed on her lips. The mountain of pillows and blankets wobbled as she adjusted her position to clear a space on the bed. Mashirao would've been quite content to just lounge in her desk chair, but he couldn't refuse the ailing girl when she invitingly patted the empty mattress beside her. The tip of his tail twitched uncomfortably as a blush alit his cheeks; nevertheless, he climbed into the bed. He exhaled shakily as he reclined against the headboard with a pillow tucked under the small of his back and crossed his legs, winding his thick tail around his middle. He blushed darker when he felt Tooru snuggle up to him. 

The bed dipped where her weight concentrated, forming the outline of her curvy figure. The bedsheets were damp with her perspiration, and Mashirao could feel her body heat seeping into the areas where they were in contact. He could even feel the quiver in her feverish body. I will never let any of the guys make period jokes again, he resolved solemnly. "Here, Hagakure, cover up," he said while pulling the sheets up over where he thought her shoulders might be. He raised an eyebrow when he spotted a familiar pattern peeking out of the folds of the thick down comforter. He felt the invisible girl squirm as he gently tugged it out to reveal one of his missing tees. 

"... Hagakure, am I going to find my two other missing shirts and my missing hoodie in this bed?"

"... Mayyyyybe," came the meek reply. He smiled amusedly as Tooru squealed and slapped her invisible hands to her cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Ojiro! I-I just… I felt good enough to grab a glass of milk last night and passed the laundry room, and the detergent smelled soooo good, and… one thing kinda led to another…" 

Ojiro smirked and spun the tee shirt by the collar around his index finger. Denki and Sero were always complimenting his mountain breeze-scented laundry detergent. "I'm sorry… I get weirdly sentimental on my period," the girl sniffed in mortification. Ojiro shrugged and dropped the tee-shirt on her head, making her squeak.

"It's no big deal. I think it's really cute."

"You don't think it's creepy?" she asked shyly as she pulled the shirt from her head and hugged it to her chest. 

"Nah," he reassured her and rested his arms behind his head. "I mean, what kind of guy would I be to deny a girl so clearly in need? I can handle a few missing clothes." She giggled girlishly and huddled back down within the mound of blankets. She inhaled deeply, no doubt savoring the earthy scent wafting around the freshly-cleaned article of clothing. 

"Thanks, Ojiro." He leisurely nodded and settled himself further against the headboard. He glanced down when Tooru abruptly whimpered and screwed her fingers into his side. He ignored the excruciating pain in his intercostal muscles to ask her what was the matter. "Ah, sorry… Cramps," she groaned. The wet rag flopped onto his belly as she pressed her head into his abdomen. He soothingly stroked her back through her thin tank top while stretching his arm out to fumble for the bottled water and painkillers. 

"Here, take these," he instructed while uncapping the water and handing her two pills. He heard her sigh gratefully as she downed the two tablets and drained the rest of the water. She tossed the bottle onto the floor with the others before draping herself back over his middle, whimpering. 

"A uterus is a curse." Mashirao chuckled and began palming soothing circles between her shoulder blades.

"I certainly don't envy you."

"Ojiro, you're really sweet," she said suddenly, making him blush. He wondered if her hormones were raging out control again, and she was growing sappy. He felt her head roll on his chest to look up at him. "You're gonna make a great boyfriend one day." He began sputtering out words with no idea of the sentence he wanted to form, his entire face red from the tips of his ears to the column of his neck. Tooru giggled and shifted so that she propped up beside him. "You know… You could be my great boyfriend." 

"Have I given you too many Ibuprofen?!" He cried and snatched up the bottle to check the dose limit and the side effects, because surely the drugs were making her loopy. Tooru laughed giddily and slapped him lightly on the shoulder, and he set the useless bottle aside. 

"I'm serious! You're so kind," she sighed and laid her head on his shoulder. He gulped audibly and tugged at the collar of his shirt, unbearably hot all of a sudden. Her fingers curled into the golden waves of his blonde hairs to wind the strands around. "You've made me feel a lot better, and… I've liked you for a long time." Mashirao smiled sheepishly and looked out of the corners of his eyes at her invisible face. 

"Well, if we're being honest here, everything about you is cute- not just nabbing my shirts.” She snorted piggishly and, in her giddiness, cuddled further into him. Feeling a little more confident, he snaked his arm around her waist, marveling how small it was compared to his muscled arm. 

"So is that a 'yes'?" 

"How about we let dinner next Friday night decide that?" He laughed as she playfully slapped his chest. 

"So smooth! Look at you." Mashirao grinned and played with the sheets. Looks like listening to Denki and Hanta debate dating advice paid off after all… Tooru sighed contentedly and, once more, pressed her face into the side of his neck. Her warm breath puffed over his skin, gentle and comforting. "... Hey."

"What?"

"Can we start the boyfriend-girlfriend thing early so you can get me a bowl of ice cream? <3" He snorted haughtily, but his true feelings were betrayed by the adoring smile stretching over his face. 

"Sure. Chocolate or vanilla?"

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List:  @simplybakugou​ @sadistiks​ @wesparklebitch​ @deliathedork​

[electricbluebutterflies]

November prompts 37 + kabby, PLEASE

This ended up being about body issues and power dynamics and... it’s THEM, what can I say. Post-s2-grayspace (canon-friendly for once), PG13ish, and also on ao3.

The way he pulled his body in, out of shyness or shame or a desire not to disturb the air around him.

It has been years since he’s let anyone look.

Avoiding being seen is near impossible – the Guard offered little privacy, and years past finding his ways around it, Marcus has made his peace. But he knows how to make sure it doesn’t matter. Change clothes as quickly as possible, keep his back to others, don’t give anyone reason to pay attention. What matters is his body is capable, not how he feels about it.

Even here on the ground those old habits have held. Communal showers are a layer of hell, but also generally deserted in the middle of the night, and his habits veer nocturnal anyways. The only other people likely to use this space at this hour are those whose sleeping arrangements and sexual inclinations are in disconnect, and desperate lovers tend not to pay attention to anything outside each other. He’s not worried anyone will notice him.

It’s become a ritual these last few weeks, since the situation stabilized enough for routines to develop. Every third night, around when the moon is highest, he cleans himself quickly but thoroughly. Eyes closed as much as possible, avoiding everything he can. Safer this way. Always safer.

First the ritual of undressing. Boots kicked off, everything else carefully removed and neatly folded. This part is done slowly, always, checking himself for any bruises or scrapes he might not have noticed. Tracing the scar on his forearm after he sheds his jacket, tracing the invisible pain lines on his thigh when that too is visible. He should’ve died by now. His continued survival on the ground feels like some kind of cosmic mistake, a life intended for someone else, some other man who’d actually earned it. He hasn’t. But nothing’s managed to get him yet, not for lack of trying, and-

He hears the door click open and a single set of footsteps follow. Dammit. He has memorized the insomnia patterns of roughly two hundred people and he still cannot pin who this might be and-

“Whatever you’re doing, don’t let me stop you.”

Great, the last person he wants anywhere near him when he’s in a spiral. Cosmic mistake, he is convinced.

Marcus turns his head and somehow, in the time it’s taken him to convince himself this is not the cause of the inevitable heart attack and/or brain aneurism that will probably kill him someday because why wouldn’t his death be tragically boring and mundane, Abby has managed to completely strip down. Not that he ever needed to know this, but it turns out her I-am-so-done-with-you expressions look almost the same in that state, her arms still crossed under her full breasts and her eyes still trying to glare right through him.

If he had any sense left, he’d give up and run. He has never been able to make the right choices.

“What?” she says, like this is all perfectly normal and maybe for her it is. “You’ve seen me naked before.”

Yes, and that was in an emergency-medical sort of context and that focuses one’s mind in appropriate directions. This current situation has no such pressure, and he is looking. She has a softness to her despite everything, subtle curves and a certain stubborn femininity to her and-

It’s just as well the rest of his body isn’t facing her. This could get awkward.

He knows not to blame her for his physical reactions. The fact that his prick is suddenly very awake is his own failure as a man, not because she’s meant to provoke him, and somehow that realization is progress but still unhelpful. His normal strategy of just ignoring that part of his body until it behaves is not going to work fast enough here and-

“While you’re here and being weird, could you help me do my hair?”

On second thought, she just might be trying to provoke him. One can never know with that woman.

Abby has maneuvered herself under a showerhead now, turned it on and apparently decided to take advantage of the middle-of-the-night hot water tank. She moves her body like she knows he can’t look away, as if this is the most normal thing in the world for her, and he suddenly wonders how much of this is planned. He wouldn’t put it past her, if she were trying to seduce him, to do any of this. He wouldn’t-

“Could you close your eyes?” he asks, trying to gauge how cooperative she is tonight.

“Why? I’ve seen you before, you don’t have any weird scars or-“

“Other reason.”

Her eyes light up, practically glowing in the badly lit space. Frightful woman. “I trust you not to do anything I don’t initiate,” she laughs. “And I won’t make any comments.”

Marcus isn’t sure how much he believes her, but he is not going to undo the past few months of trying over this and he turns his body towards her all too aware she will look. All too aware she will see every detail he would hide, every minor flaw. He wouldn’t have voluntarily done this before… he’s not sure when they changed, really. Somewhere between falling to the ground and him overreacting to things he knew she’d do and both of them nearly dying a couple times, they got comfortable with each other, or at least he got comfortable with her. She’s never had the issues he does, he’s sure of it, nothing in her current posture suggests an attempt to hide or-

At least she isn’t subtle.

As strange as this all is for him, it’s made easier by the fact that Abby has always been an easy person for him to read. She wants what she wants and likes what she likes, and he doesn’t have to ask what’s running through her mind as she slowly looks him over. Some part of her, some dominant force in that impulse-driven black hole of her mind, wants him all over her right now. And he’d almost let her, if she asked, and-

“You wanted me to do your hair?” he asks, trying to distract her. It’s not an issue of want so much as this doesn’t feel like the right time or place for their inevitability. When they happen, and he’s known for weeks now that they would build to this, it needs to be better than testing the stability of partition walls.

“I want you to do a lot of things right now,” Abby counters, and he’s never seen her this playful for this long and it’s almost terrifying. “But yeah, if that’s what you’re comfortable with…”

He moves behind her, takes soap in hand and does what he can. Her hair is thick and surprisingly tangled given it was in her usual braid just minutes ago, and she makes pretty noises as he touches her. Frustrating woman, he’s not doing anything that should provoke her and yet-

He kisses the top of her head, their size difference just enough to make that easy, and she makes a high sound and no he cannot let this go further. Not like this, not tonight.

“Are you scared of me?” she asks as he works a knot out of the lower part of her hair, brushing his fingers against her back more than necessary.

“Why would I… you think that’s what it is?!”

“Ruled out everything else, so… yeah, I think you’re scared of me specifically because I see right through you and you think I’m going to say something and-“

“I am like that with everyone.” And yet he is having this conversation with her, because she’s right, she does see through him, no one else has ever openly noticed how he is and-

“That’s not comforting.” Abby turns her head, looking up at him through her curtain of wet hair. “If you… if something’s wrong…”

“It’s not like that. I can want to keep people from looking and still go on with my life.”

She rolls her eyes. “No wonder those rumors had legs.”

“Rumors?”

“Why you never did anything more than casual sex. And I’m not judging, personal preferences happen, but…”

She is definitely judging, he knows her too well to believe otherwise, but that’s clearly not the point here.

“I would prefer not to let myself be vulnerable,” he says after a few moments’ silence. “That’s all it is.”

“But you’re here with me.”

“You already know too much,” he murmurs. “If you wanted to go after me, this isn’t where you’d start.”

“Wouldn’t be any fun to take you down. You’ve gotten boring.” She leans up and presses her lips to his jaw, and it’s somehow heartbreaking and all he can do to pretend otherwise. Thank goodness for his beard and bad lighting. “Not that I mind, turns out I have so much free time now that I’m not focusing my entire life on outsmarting you, but…”

“Is there a compliment in there somewhere?”

“I would not have let you touch me three months ago. I would not have voluntarily been this vulnerable around you three months ago. Right now I am not at all worried what you might do and you’re less than a foot away from me and half-hard. This is my trust fall.”

“I am… you can ignore…”

“See that exactly is my point. You’re not trying to get pity sex out of me or… I doubt you would’ve done anything forceful even at your worst but I can’t rule that out. You are not a threat to me anymore and you’re barely even a pest most days and that’s weird as hell and-“

“I’m trying,” he murmurs. “You make me want to try.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” she says, reaching around him to shut the water off. “I’m not your salvation, Marcus. You need to find that in yourself. Not in me.”

She walks away, swinging her hips as she walks over to where she’s piled her things, and he feels like lightning just struck him. Like this is the kind of thing that could only ever happen between them, because no one else will ever see him as thoroughly as she does. There’s a safety in it too, a certainty that everything that happened tonight will stay between them because for a person of her position she has very few friends and who would she even tell about this and-

“I’m not sure what you did, but thank you.”

She glances over her shoulder at him, hands paused as she tries to put her bra back on. “I’m not sure I did anything at all, but you’re welcome.”

[polin-erospsyche]

My Angel, Please Let Me Down Slowly - a Jordelia fanfic

Sidenote: I don’t really know what to say apart for that I had this idea for a fanfiction and for some reason I decided to write it and then I decided to share it. Like we say: if nothing is ventured, nothing is gained right? I have never felt so vulnerable on this hellsite before because fanfic is not what I really do and I certainly have never shared my writing before. I tried to make this as close to the character as I could, I’m sure you’ll find that there are mistakes here and there. It also ended up being much longer than I thought it would be, I ramble a lot who is suprised?  I hope you’ll read it and that you’ll enjoy, I certainly had fun writing it. 

“So? How do you feel?” Lucie asked excitedly. James stared at the thin silver band Grace was holding in front of him, seemingly lost in a daze. They stood in the drawing room of the London Institute with Lucie, Will and Tessa hovering, eagerly looking at James to look for any changes after the bracelet had come off.

None of them really knew the exact reason for which Grace had gone against Tatiana Blackthorn and accepted Lucie’s offer to join the London Institute and fight against Belial. Lucie had assured everyone that it was much better if they didn’t know the reason as, in truth, she wanted to keep their plans to bring Jesse back a secret just a little longer. Once on their side, Grace had quickly although reluctantly admitted that James was in fact not genuinely in love with her but was under the spell of the bracelet he wore since he was thirteen. Once she had explained Tatiana’s and Belial’s plan and the bracelet’s function, Will had exclaimed that this was completely unacceptable and that it had to be taken off at once. Everyone had agreed. However, due to the late hour of the night and because James wanted to do it privately, they had all been sent home with the promise that they would be able to come and check on James the following morning. All at the exception of Cordelia who had insisted on staying behind and was currently waiting in the library with Matthew who had decided to keep Cordelia company and wanted to show her an essay written by Oscar Wilde. Being responsible for the bracelet’s charm, Grace was the only who could take it off easily, and so, here there were with the bracelet removed.

“He’s not going to feel very different right away as once the bracelet is off there is still a remnant of the bond.” Grace replied for James. James disagreed, he felt as if he had woken up from a long slumber, and were finally able to breathe normally. He saw the world not through the veiled eyes of a passive body bound to an invisible force but as if he could experience everything around him for himself again. Grace had also lost this ethereal beauty he had found so fascinating. She remained stunning with her angel soft blond hair closing to silver, her frail complexion and her big grey eyes but her beauty suddenly did not make him want to follow her to the end of the world or throw himself in the river Thames. He realized with a sudden jolt that she was talking, to him more specifically, and that he had missed most of it.

“… you’ll be all right and I’m … you … you must know…” she paused, looking unsure. He looked at her with a look between resentment and expectation and wondered what she could possibly want him to know. Was she going to apologize? And if she did, what would he be able to say? “Never mind, we’ll talk soon. When you’ll be feeling more like yourself.”  

“Yes soon, just not right away. I need some time to think and to reflect.” to get away from you James thought. He would not let her know how much he could not stand being in her presence right now, he would be civil. After all she couldn’t really be blamed, she had had no choice but to obey the witch.

“James?” asked Tessa gently “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I assure you.” Looking towards his father he quickly added “Don’t look at me like that papa, you’re making me anxious.”

Will looked as if this was the first time he’d ever truly seen his son and wondered whether to make him stay in bed the next day with ten blankets, a hot cup of tea and the curtains drawn so as not to risk James developing a weird sort of illness.

“I’m sorry Jamie bach, it’s just” he walked closer to James “we are your parents, our job is to worry for you. Are you sure you’re alright? I can call Jem right now if you want me to, I don’t mind.”

“Will!” Tessa chastised.

“It’s not necessary to call Uncle Jem. I just feel a little weird and lighter than usual, which is not so different from the first time Grace took off the bracelet.” James glanced at Grace who intensely stared at the ground as if the cracks in the floorboard was the most interesting thing she had ever seen.

“Well if he’s alright I think we should go and tell Cordelia. I promised her I’d let her know as soon as the whole ordeal was passed. I’m sure she must worry.” Lucie chirped in.

Cordelia. Daisy. Angel. Images came rushing to James, her soft and warm embrace, her tenacity, the smiles she would only reserve for him, and his irrepressible need at times to run his fingers through her auburn hair. And how, at each of these times, he had to force himself not to do it as he would never have let himself cross that line. He owed Cordelia, who had given her reputation to save him, not to lead her on. And although they had eventually, after five months of pretence, reached a place where they were comfortable around each other and started to share inside jokes, their engagement was still a sham and he would not pretend that there was something there when there wasn’t. But was that true? Hadn’t he told her that he had never wanted anything more than to kiss her when they were in the Whispering Room? And, unknown to Cordelia, that desire had never really went away even after Grace had put the bracelet back onto his wrist. He didn’t know exactly how he felt about Cordelia but he knew now, without a shadow of a doubt, that he had never loved Grace.

He had to see Cordelia. He had to explain to her and hope that she would understand and give him a chance. And maybe with just a bit of luck she would not feel indifferent to him and she had and still did share the same desire as him when they shared their first kiss. And they would then be able to figure out their feelings together. He had to go to the library, see her, talk to her.

“I appreciate everyone’s worry, really, and I will let you fuss around me at your heart’s content tomorrow. But Lucie is right, Daisy has been waiting.”

“Great! Let’s go.” Lucie started to walk towards the door but was stopped as James grabbed her elbow.

“No Lucie. Alone. I need to see her alone, please?”

Lucie pouted, feeling as if she was going to miss all the fun, but gestured for him to go. James who needed no more encouragements hastened out of the drawing room and ran down the halls of the Institute.

When he arrived in front of the library doors, he took a moment to steel himself and tried to get a hold of his muddled thoughts. After tonight he might not have to pretend anymore. He might be able to reach for her hand or play with her hair or take her in his arms and kiss her whenever he wished to. Not because he had to go along with a lie but simply because they both wanted to. He took a breath in, reached for the library door, slowly opened it and for the second time that night he froze.

The room was dimly lit by an oil lamp placed on the fireplace mantel but in the far corner he could discern two figures leaned against a bookshelf, clinging to each other, with an open book discarded at their feet. Probably the book Matthew wanted to show Cordelia. The smaller figure let out a soft moan and James shut his eyes. Suddenly the floor under his feet seemed no longer stable. His head and heart were pounding as if he had breathed in to quickly and yet there suddenly seemed like there would never bee enough air for him to breath normally. The energy that had made him almost run to the library was sapped and for a minute his world had lost its direction and a part of him wished he could still be under Grace’s influence.

“Matthew” whispered Cordelia.

James opened his eyes, already adjusting to the darkness of the room, only to see Cordelia staring back at him. Matthew still had his head bend, kissing her neck the way James had done not so long ago, the way he still wanted to do now.

“Matthew, stop.” James wasn’t sure which of them had said it but to his short-lived relief Matthew lifted his head but only to follow Cordelia’s gaze and lend his eyes onto James.

Matthew immediately scrambled into an upright position trying to smooth his hair and clothes out.

“James! Here you are, we were worried. I was just reading a passage from The Decay of Lying.” Said Matthew biting his lower lip, his hair dishevelled, the first few buttons on his waistcoat undone. He was pointing at the book Cordelia had now picked up and clutched in one hand, her other hand hovering at her lips.

“Listen to this and tell me what you think, “What is interesting about people in good Society is the mask that each one of them wears, not the reality that lies behind the mask”.’ Matthew recited, because of course he would have learned by heart Wilde’s writing. How fitting as well that out of all of Wilde’s quotes he had picked one about masks, James thought.

“Riveting.” James let out through a forced smile. “I’m sorry for interrupting your passionate reading, I should have knocked. I just wanted to let you know that Grace took the bracelet off and I knew you were both waiting.”

Matthew’s expression hardened “I told you, didn’t I, that she was not as angelic as she was trying to make you believe. At least now I won’t have to try and prove it and hopefully she will be on her way once we win against Belial and Tatiana.” James didn’t know the reasons but it seemed that recently over the past five months or so Matthew had developed an even more pronounced dislike of Grace. “Anyway,” Matthew’s expression softened “how are you feeling?”

“Everyone has been asking me that.” James sighed. He threw a glance at Cordelia, everyone had been asking except her, she hadn’t said a thing. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning when my head is less foggy. I’ll leave you to whatever it is that you were doing.” And with that James closed the door and left.

He was halfway down the hallway when he heard quick, light footsteps “Wait! James, please, wait. I can explain.” The way she was almost begging him to stop was like shards of glass in his heart, but he kept walking faster.

“It’s not what you think.”

“No?” James stopped abruptly. “It seemed really clear to me what was going on in that room. I assure you I do not need any further explanations.” He was now facing her.

“We were reading …” started Cordelia.

“Reading doesn’t usually include kissing. At least from what I’ve experienced, it doesn’t.” James said with finality.  

Cordelia stared at James not knowing what to say. He was angry and she wasn’t sure he would listen to anything she had to say right now. Then she ventured carefully “Would it make a difference if I told you it wasn’t supposed to happen? You weren’t supposed to see it. We both feel bad, we’re both sorry.” She could barely meet his eyes when she finished.

James slightly shook his head and exhaled “You don’t have to, neither of you owes me an explanation. You’re not bound to me in any way just like I am not bound to you. We’re both free of pursuing any relationships we want. I just never thought of all the men you could possibly have in London you’d go with my parabatai, my Matthew. I feel foolish, I should have known. I’ve seen the way you started to look at Math, the way you act around each other and the way you started to look at each other when you thought no one was watching. Just tell me something, and please answer me honestly, for Matthew’s sake, do you love him?”  

“I don’t know.” She murmured, looking down at her clasped hands, her knuckles almost white.

Her answer knocked the air out of James. He thought that might have been the case, of course he did. He hadn’t lied when he said that he saw Cordelia and Matthew, their relationship had changed ever so gradually. While James was busy trying not to act on his false feelings for Grace and to comprehend why his heart seemed to beat just a little quicker when Cordelia entered a room, she had been busy keeping up a false engagement and falling for his best friend. He just never thought she would admit to it or that he would have to hear it.

Cordelia lifted her head, hoping to erase what she had said, hoping to bring the conversation back to them and not linger on her unclear feelings for Matthew “But the bracelet is off and …”

“And nothing has changed.” Except that everything had, but she didn’t have to know this. More than anything he wanted to see Cordelia happy even if her happiness costed him his. He would rather have cut out his own heart than take away Cordelia’s chance at being in love, so he continued “Daisy, I truly am sorry. I don’t think that either of us were ready for this turn of event but I do think we still need to get married, just to keep your reputation intact. But once this year is up if Matthew makes you happy then I will be happy for you.”

“So you’re not angry? I thought that … I don’t know what I thought. I just thought you would care.” I thought you would be jealous. Cordelia hadn’t kissed Matthew to make James jealous, of course not, but her treacherous heart still hoped he would return her feelings and so, in effect, would be showing signs of jealousy.

“Of course I care! You have become such a dear friend to me. I care for you immensely; you should know that by now. And no, I’m not angry, I’m just surprised. I saw it coming, I just never though it would actually happen.”  

So there it was, she thought, he wasn’t angry or jealous just caught off guard. She had hoped that tonight would turn out so differently. That without the bracelet on he would tell her he loved her. That they would decide that the marriage wouldn’t be a sham but a real one based on love, understanding and trust. Yet, she never felt further from James than at this moment. He hadn’t loved her then; he didn’t love her now. And worst of all she wasn’t even sure how she felt about Matthew. When had things between them started to go so wrong?

“It’s late, I think we both need some rest after every that has happened today. I’ll see you in the morning Cordelia.”

As he started to slowly walk away, she reached for his hand and intertwined her fingers with his.

“I’m so sorry, I wish it could have gone another way.”

“Me too.” Maybe things would have been different if I had told you when we were younger, I just didn’t know it until I saw you with him my angel. James gently pried his fingers away and returning to the silence and darkness of his bedroom.

That night he promised himself that he would stand by Matthew and Cordelia, would smile at their happiness and in time would be able to mend his broken heart. He would not and could not stand in the middle of their happiness because he loved them both beyond words. He came to the resolution that if he could see them both happy with each other than he would have to be content with that.