#and the frog i gently handed her IMMEDIATELY pissed in her hand | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

weelittleweasley · 4 years ago

Text

a day in the snow (h.p.)

prompt as requested by anon: after being friends for two years, you had been toying with the idea of how and if you should tell harry that you have feelings for him. but will the fear of rejection hold you back?

pairing: harry potter x fem! reader

warnings: food

word count: 3.2k

author’s note: this could be read as a sequel to may i sit?, but you don’t have to read it to understand this fic! happy reading! oh! and requests are still open ;)

Soft, powdery white snow covered the Scottish hills that rolled in the distance. The green grass now hidden beneath blankets and blankets of freshly fallen snow. Untouched snow was soon replaced with trails of snow shoe footprints and laughter of students as they weaved their way to Hogsmeade. It was a perfect winter’s day. Cold enough to keep the snow from melting and make you shiver if you wore the wrong jacket, but not cold enough from keeping you from dragging Harry through the snow to the town.

Harry would have much rather stayed inside and kept warm in the comfort of the common room with the roaring fire in front of him, blanket over his lap as he enjoyed the chatter of his closest friends. You, on the other hand, lived for days like today. You insisted it would be an adventure; out in the snow, romping around, enjoying each other’s company. Although Harry insisted you had gone to Hogsmeade so many times in the past, you had practically begged him to go today. You needed some excitement rather than being cooped up in the castle all weekend long. With a groan and exaggerated roll of his head, Harry finally gave into your pleas. He couldn’t resist you for longer than five minutes of constant begging.

Linking your arm in his, the two of you trudged through the snow, you laughing as Harry bemoaned about snow getting into his boots. “Don’t be such a party pooper, Potter,” you tease him as he rolls his eyes. “We’ll make a day of it. We can get Butterbeer at Three Broomsticks, shop around at Honeydukes, maybe venture into Zonko’s,” you list off excitedly. It would be a pricey expenditure, but you had just received your monthly allowance from your parents and you were certainly planning on spending a chunk of it today.

“Or we could head back to the castle, get a blanket, sit by the fire in the common room, sneak into the kitchens. You know the house elves love me,” he smiled as you scoffed at him. “We’ve been to Hogsmeade hundreds of times, why can’t we enjoy a day inside the castle?” he implores you as a bright smile appears on your face as the village comes into your view.

You drop Harry’s arm and make a mad dash for the village, giggling wildly. You turn to face him, walking backwards now, “We are in that castle every day, Harry. I need a change of scenery once in a while and what better place to do so,” you speak merrily. Pure joy was laced in your voice as Harry sighed and shook his head with a smile. He couldn’t deny the look of childish glee on your face as you stood there, waiting for him to catch up to you, clapping your hands like a toddler on Christmas morning. “Now come on, let me treat you to a Butterbeer,” you extend your hand out to him as he gladly accepts it, swinging your arms back and forth.

The gesture was simple, something you and Harry always did. But you couldn’t deny that every time Harry held your hand, flashed you a toothy grin, cracked a joke and looked your way to see if he had made you laugh, it always made your heart flutter and mind races with a thousand and one thoughts. Harry had been your mate, a close one, for almost two years now. After the night you two had formally met, you were inseparable. You spent nights in the library studying (mostly fooling around and pissing others off), running through the corridors playing elaborate games of hide-and-seek, exchanging small glances during class. Together, you and Harry just made sense. The two of you got along like you had known each other your whole lives and yet, nothing more evolved from your friendship. You had managed to convince yourself that a friendship was all you signed up for and all you wanted from Harry which was a total lie. Harry made you feel like you were the only person who mattered; like when he was with you, you had his full and undivided attention. Harry made you feel safe.

But you ignore the butterflies that danced around in your gut as you walked towards Three Broomsticks, Harry opening the door for you as you slid in carefully. “Go on and find us a seat, I’ll grab us drinks,” you instruct him as he smiles and nods.

You approach the bar and see Madam Rosmerta, drying some mugs. She catches your eye as she flashes you a brilliant smile, “Back again, Miss (Y/L/N),” she beams as you nod. “What can I get for you, my darling?”

“Two Butterbeers please,” you request, leaning against the bar, removing the woolen gloves from your chilled hands. The Three Broomsticks was warm, in temperature and the environment. The pub was bustling in customers, varying in age, old and young. Some Hogwarts students were tucked away in booths as you surveyed the area, some on what looked like dates, others messing around with friends.

Madam Rosmerta gives you a look, raising one brow suggestively. “Two?” she asks as you nod. “You fancied your way into a date now? Who with?” she implores. But before you can protest that you were just in for a quick drink with a friend, her eyes land on Harry who waits patiently at a table. Madam Rosmerta dramatically gasps, “With the Chosen One?” she gawks. “Nicely done, my darling. Way to go!” she hits your arm encouragingly.

You shake your head feverishly, “No, no, Harry and I are just mates. We’ve always been mates and always will be.” When the words tumble from your mouth, your stomach feels sour. Always been mates and always will be. Nothing more and nothing less for you and Harry. Stuck in the friend zone. Madam Rosmerta gives you a look to tell you that she’s not buying it. You insist, “Really. Harry is a good friend. We’re just spending the day together as mates.”

She smiles at you as she pours you up two brimming mugs of Butterbeer, the copper mugs foaming wildly with the delicious beverage. “That’s how it always starts,” she teases as you play with the hem of your lavender jumper. “Just mates usually means something more is on the way,” she winks as you lightly laugh. Reaching into your pocket, you look for a few sickles to give in exchange for your drinks, but Madam Rosmerta stops you. “These are on the house,” she insists. “A toast to best mates,” she winks.

“Thank you,” you blush before you part from the bar, walking over to the table with your drinks. “For you,” you slide the mug over to Harry who thanks you before you sit down and take a sip from the refreshing beverage.

Harry takes a glug from his mug before speaking, “Alright. Well, now that you’ve got me here, what’s on the agenda? I want the full (Y/N) (Y/L/N) experience.”

You smile at your best friend and shake your head. Harry could be a pisser, but he sure knew how to make you smile. As you ran off everything you wanted to do for the day, you became very aware of Harry’s gaze as he looked at you. His green eyes held so much tenderness, gently resting upon you as you spoke with such glee in your voice. Occasionally, he would permit a small smile to appear on his lips as you would catch him and ask what he was smiling about. He would brush it off and simply say, “Nothing. I find it sweet when you get excited about things.”

In response, you scoffed and rolled your eyes whilst inside your stomach did and flip and your mind screamed about how much you liked him. How you wanted to hold his hand and tell him how much you cared for him. How you wanted kiss his lips and lay your head on his chest, falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. But instead, you continued blabbering on about the day ahead of you.

After finishing at Three Broomsticks, you and Harry walked down High Street and made a stop at Honeydukes. Inside were countless shelves filled with sweets and treats beyond imagination. As soon as you stepped foot inside, you immediately ran to the shelves to pick out your favorite sweets. Harry laughed at your impatience; you couldn’t even wait for him to grab you a basket. “We have to stock up on all the good stuff, Harry,” you say very intently as you grab three parcels of Jelly Slugs. “Godric knows that once Ron sees the stash, he’s bound to consume half of it,” you huff as Harry laughs. You weren’t wrong.

Harry watches as you select a few Chocolate Frogs, Chocolate Wands, and Cockroach Clusters from the shelves. “Easy does it, you don’t want to spend all of your money in one place,” he warns.

You flash him a look. “Geez, you sound like Granger,” you laugh as he rolls his eyes. “Last time I checked if Harry saw me buying this many sweets, he’d be encouraging me to buy more,” you tease as he rolls his eyes. “Come on, what do you want? My treat.”

Harry looks at you and shakes his head. “(Y/N), no. You already treated for Butterbeer, I’m not letting you buying me sweets too,” he tells you as you shake your head.

“Madam Rosmerta covered the cost of the Butterbeers, so that doesn’t count,” you reveal to him as he gives you a confused look. But before he can question why she would cover the cost, you speak up, “Come on, Harry, if you don’t chose, I’ll chose for you.” You nudge his arm as he sighs giving in as you smile widely.

You knew Harry didn’t want you wasting your money on him, but you hardly considered it a waste. You wanted him to enjoy himself too, especially since he didn’t want to leave the castle and you practically forced him out. This was just a small way to express your gratitude.

Now, your shopping basket was full of sweets and was considerably heavy. But it was no problem. You swiftly paid the cashier and carried out a large bag of sweets out of the shoppe as Harry laughed as you struggled to carry it. “Give it here,” he laughs as he takes the bag from your hands, easily carrying it in just one of his. “Light as a feather.”

“Oh, shut it, Harry,” you laugh alongside him as you trudge through the snow, enjoying how lively the town was today. People made chatter, buying things from the shoppes, children playing in the snow, indulging in sweets. The scene made your heart swell. You loved how alive and well the town seemed. As you looked around, you felt Harry’s gaze on you again as you caught his eye. “Why’re you staring at me?” you laugh as Harry blushes.

“I can’t look at my best friend?” he defends himself. “Rather me close my eyes and walk around blindly?” he teases as he screw his eyes shut, pretending to feel around for directions. “Someone help. My best friend is mad that I dare look at her so now I’m forced to walk around like this!” he jokes as you roll your eyes.

But before you can say anything, you hear someone call out for Harry’s name. You both turn around and see Ron jogging over to you both as Harry looks at you. “Go,” you smile at him. “No need to ask me for permission.”

Harry smiles as Ron runs over to him, the two of them immediately babbling about something that Ron found in Zonko’s. Behind Ron is Hermione who walks over to you with a small smile. “Enjoying yourself?” you wiggle your eyebrows at Hermione.

She rolls her eyes, “Ron and I were in Zonko’s for nearly three hours.” You laugh at her complaint. She sighs, “But it made him happy. So in a weird way, I guess it was worth it.” You poke at her sides, teasing her for her innocent crush on her best friend. “Oh, stop, you’re one to talk! Harry told us he wasn’t feeling well today and he wasn’t going to come out with us,” Hermione reveals.

You stop poking at Hermione’s words as they fall from her lips. You twist your face with confusion. “What do you mean he didn’t feel well?” you ask as Hermione restates what she had previously revealed. Did Harry lie to his two best friends, so he could spend the day with you? You shake your head, “No, Harry told me he wanted to stay in the castle today. He didn’t want to go out today all together,” you justify.

Hermione gives you a knowing look. “Sure, he could have told you that, but you know Harry likes to give people a hard time. He would have gone with you whether you begged or not,” she smiles. “Even if you didn’t go to Hogsmeade, you would have stayed at the castle with him, wouldn’t you?” she asks, already knowing the answer to the question when a rosy hue appears on your cheeks. “(Y/N), drop the charade. You both have been infatuated with the other since you met each other,” Hermione places a hand on your arm, rubbing it. “Everyone sees the glances you two steal, the way you laugh at his jokes, the way he literally drops everything to be next to you...don’t wait any longer.”

If this all was true, then maybe it really did mean Harry had deeper feelings for you. But the possibility that people were reading into it and Harry saw you as just a close friend loomed over your head like a dark rain cloud. The fear of Harry looking into your eyes and telling you that this relationship of yours was merely platonic would break your heart. You would rather keep your secret just that, a secret. That way you could prevent yourself from being hurt. But then there was the risk of keeping this secret hidden deeply and hurting yourself by watching him live life with another girl, someone who wasn’t you. And that was what made your stomach churn.

Before you can ask Hermione advice, Harry speaks up, “(Y/N), you ready?” You look at Hermione who gives you a reassuring squeeze and wink as you sigh. Turning to Harry, you nod.

“We’ll catch up later,” you tell Hermione who gives you a curt nod. You walk over to Harry who extends a hand out to you to walk back into the castle. You accept it, letting your hands swing back and forth, letting the negative thoughts in your mind float away as you enjoy the feeling of his gloved hand holding yours.

Harry gives your hand a gentle squeeze as he notices you ruminating in thought, nibbling on your bottom lip. He knew your nervous habits like the back of his hand and he monitored them carefully. “What’s bothering you?” he asks quite simply. You look at him, puzzled. “Your biting your bottom lip. You always do that when you’re overthinking something,” he tells you as you sigh defeated. He knew you too well and that was the problem. “You know you can tell me, (Y/N). We’re best friends.”

Best friends. That’s exactly what you were. “Can I ask you something, Harry?”

“Anything,” he smiles as he continues to swing your hand back and forth.

But you stop walking and drop his hand, tucking both your hands into your jacket pockets. Harry watches as you do so, gulping, nervous as to what you had to say. “Did you...did you tell Hermione and Ron that you didn’t want to go to Hogsmeade with them today because you weren’t feeling well?” you ask.

Harry looks at you blankly before inhaling deeply. “I did, yes.”

You, even more confused, now try to clarify. “But you came out to Hogsmeade with me instead? You told me you wanted to stay in the castle, so why didn’t you? If you weren’t feeling well, you should have told me that and I wouldn’t have asked you to come with me,” you tell Harry who just stands there. “Harry, you know you don’t have to follow me around. I could have gone with someone else today.”

He shakes his head, “That’s not the point, (Y/N). That’s not why I came with you.”

“Then why did you come with me?” you ask, genuinely needing to know the answer. Harry remains silent for a moment as you groan. “Harry, I need you to be honest with me. You tell some of your friends one thing and then you tell me another. I’m just confused and I need at least a little clarity as to what is going on inside that head of yours,” you exclaim.

Harry stands there silent again as you look at him, with an exhausted expression on your face. Was it really that hard to tell you the truth? You shake your head and start walking away from Harry, whispering under your breath, “This is ridiculous.”

Before you can take another step away from him, Harry grabs your hand and pulls you back to him, spinning you around to face him. He wastes no time, cupping your cold cheeks in his hands and pulling you into him, connecting his lips with yours. You are taken aback by the sudden move, but you instantly melt into his touch, kissing him back. His lips are cold from the weather, but the kiss is warm and sweet and genuine. The kiss is revitalizing; it makes your heart speed up and makes you pull him closer to you, wanting more and more and more until you can’t take anymore. Harry only kisses you harder as you relax into the kiss. As you kiss, you can feel snowflakes fall upon your cheeks and eyelashes. The scene was picturesque. Two friends now kissing in the middle of the snowy pathway as freshly fallen snow surrounds them like halos.

Gently, Harry pulls away and rubs your cheeks with his thumbs as you keep your eyes closed, savoring the sensation of his cool lips on yours. “Does that clarify things?” he asks as you lightly smile, fluttering your eyes open, looking into his green ones. “I always want to be with you, (Y/N). I lied to Ron and Hermione because I wanted to be with you. I will take every opportunity to be with you because I’m absolutely head over heels for you.”

His words make your heart flutter. It was everything you have ever wanted to hear and you can’t help but smile like a goofball at his words. “You are?” you say in disbelief, breathlessly as you hold onto his arms tightly, not ever wanting to let go.

“Head over heels,” he repeats. “And I’m willing to do anything to prove it to you.”

You smile widely before pressing your forehead against his. “There’s no need. Because I’m head over heels for you, Harry,” you confess as Harry smiled brightly at your confession before kissing the tip of your nose gently. ��Quite the pickle we’ve gotten ourselves into, huh, Potter?” you tease him.

Harry shakes his head, “One I don’t plan on getting out of any time soon,” he tells you before kissing you again sweetly as the snow showers over the both of you.

#Harry Potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfic #Harry Potter Smut #harry imagine #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter x ravenclaw!reader #harry potter x ravenclaw #harry potter x slytherin!reader #harry potter x fem!reader #harry potter x original character #harry potter x gryffindor!reader #harry potter x reader imagine

235 notes · View notes

al3x1ss · 4 years ago

Text

Just a friend to you

Chapter 15: What are you doing New Year’s Eve?

“DOLL HURRY THE FUCK UP IM HUNGry!”

Opening the door, she stares at Osamu as he finishes screeching. Hearing the door click, he turns suddenly, his face going from annoyed to immediately brightened.

“Y/N!” He says, his voice going high pitched as she giggles, giving him a quick hug, then hugging both Suna and Atsumu. Bending over slightly, Atsumu allows Y/N in his back, the 4 now traveling to a cafe with Y/N holding Suna and Osamu’s pinkies, Atsumu keeping his arms tight around her legs.

As the 4 eat, Y/N is quick to stare at Atsumu who has checked his phone about 6 times in the past 5 minutes of eating.

“Is there something you’d like to share with the class, Atsumu?” The boy drops his phone, his eyes immediately widening as he hears a small collision from where his phone was dropped. He picks it up, dusting it off and placing it down before looking at the girl across from him.

“One of my friends is around the area-“

“You have friends besides us?”

“SHUT UP Y/N!” He sighs, stabbing another piece of his meal with his fork as he looks at her again.

“I met her when we were partners for a project and we just clicked and stayed as friends.”

Suna and Y/N being oO-ing as Osamu pokes his side repeatedly, with Atsumu swatting his twin’ hand away quickly.

“Wait- a lady friend? What kind of sane female would deal with your piss ass willingly?”

“YOU DO!”

“No, I was forced by Mother Miya.”

After the endless bickering, Suna takes the check in hard, heading to the counter as the twins and Y/N wait outside.

“Would you guys mind if said lady friend joined us?”

Samu shook his head no, while Y/N also said no, speaking for herself and Suna who had just exited the doors of cafe.

After 2 minutes of waving, a new face comes towards the group with a smile and a wave. Atsumu waves back, going towards and and smiling.

“Guys this is Keiko, Keiko this is my twin Osamu, that’s Y/N, and then that one over there is Suna.”

Hearing his name, Suna’s eyes lifted, falling on the girl in front of him. His eyes widened, afterwards a quick smile following. Turning his eyes to his feet, he scratched the back of his head.

“Oh my god!” Y/N’s eyes widen as the girl, a smile immediately coming on her face.

“I love you’re earrings so much, Keiko!” Both girls smiled at eachother, Keiko getting on one knee.

“I have determined that you are sweet as fuck as that I want you to marry me.”

“I have determined that I accept.”

With Keiko getting up with help from Y/N, the two link arms, beginning to walk to their next destination. The boys blink repeatedly, staring at eachother then staring at the two girls giggling.

“Samu what the fuck just happened?”

“I don’t know Suna, I don’t fuckin know.”

The twins argue over the frog hat with Suna holding out his phone, getting content for his Instagram followers is what he says is “his only passion in life”. Covering her mouth, Y/N laughs, pulling out her phone with her other hand to see a text message.

“Who’s Keiji?” Keiko asks, Y/N’s eyes now facing hers.

“Well-“

“LET GO OF THE HAT YOU OLD MAN!”

“AT LEAST MY HAIR DOESN’T LOOK LIKE I GOT PISSED ON!”

“OH YEAH MR.MY BONES HURT AT PRACTICE CUZ I GOT ARTHRITIS! WHAT KINDA EXCUSE IS THAT?”

“BETTER THAN THAT SAD EXCUSE OF YOUR DYE JOB!”

Y/N’s eyes widen, gently grabbing Keiko’s wrist as the two back away from the boys. After being enough away, Y/N sighs, placing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Long story short, best friend of 3 years, I liked him for 3 years, confessed and got denied, and now we just talked a few days ago after like a month of not speaking and it being awkward.”

“Well I mean, do you still like him?”

“Uh-“

“Alright lads, let’s bounce.” Atsumu says, walking up with Suna and Osamu behind him, the girls looking at eachother before nodding.

The 5 enter a small pizzeria, with Atsumu and Keiko’s stomachs growling as soon as they entered. The 5 laughed, with Y/N handing her jacket to Suna while she went to order with Osamu.

“Hi! Can I get a large cheese pizza with a side of-“

“Suna?”

Hearing his name, he lifted his head, looking at the other two at his table to see them also looking around. Turning to look at the door, he sees Kaori with her fellow manager, along with their very own setter and ace.

“Oh, hi guys.” Suna says with a wave. Atsumu and Keiko look up to see who Suna was talking too, with Atsumu smiling and Keiko giving a shy wave.

“Hey! You guys are just eating?”

“Yeah, Samu and Y/N are ordering now.” Atsumu says, pointing over it to the counter with Y/N poking Osamu’s cheeks.

“Cool, well enjoy your meal! We should totally hang out sometime!” Bokuto says, following Yukie to go to a table, with Kaori dragging a tired Akaashi along.

Plopping down, Kaori and Bokuto look at eachother before nodding, sitting straight back up.

“I can feel 3 pairs of eyes on me, what.”

“Akaaaashiiii, don’t you think it would be nice to, oh I don’t know, please can we invite them ice skating?” Yukie says, staring at him with large eyes from across the table.

“Are you asking my permission or are you asking me to do it, because I’m very comfy.” He murmurs, his head laying in his arms.

“I’ll go ask!” Bokuto says, getting up while the other girls nod. Akaashi sighs, rubbing his eyes carefully as to not irritate his contacts as Bokuto walks to their table.

With the twins messily eating, and the rest starring st them as if they were pigs, Y/N sees another figure approaching, smiling at Bokuto.

“Hi Bo! They told me you were here, what’s up? How ya been?” Y/N asks, wiping her hands on a napkin before looking back at him.

“I’m well, thank you! So the rest of us were wondering if you 5 wanted to come with us to go ice skating? Obviously we haven’t met you yet,” he says as he gestured to Keiko, “however any friend of Y/N’s somehow becomes a friend of ours! And I’m not complainin’!” Bokuto says, his hands landing on his hips with a bright smile.

Looking at Suna and the girls, Osamu nodded, turning his eyes back to Bokuto as he smiled.

“We’ll be there.”

Lacing up her skates, Y/N got on the ice and began to skate around, seeing some of her friends on the ice while Atsumu and Bokuto were still on the bench trying to figure out how to tie them.

“Sometimes I’m shocked he’s a third year.”

Turning around, Y/N faces Akaashi with a small smile on both of their faces.

“It surprises me as well.” She said, both of them beginning to skate next to eachother. With Akaashi looking around at the lights, Y/N turns her eyes to face him.

To her, it was strange. To not feel the butterflies, the rollercoaster in her stomach each time he said hello.

“You excited to see the fireworks?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fun to ring in the New Year with you guys.” Akaashi says, a smile coming to his face as he looks back at Y/N.

The two turn straight, Bokuto waving over Y/N as she nods, getting ready to skate towards him.

“Hey, Kaashi?”

“Hm?” He says, turning back towards her.

“Save me a seat.” She says, giving him a small wave and proceeded to skate towards Bokuto, said male waving and beginning to skate as she caught up.

The pair speak amongst themselves, speaking of their holiday and upcoming plans for New Years. For a few minutes, Bokuto surprisingly goes quiet, prompting Y/N to nudge his side.

His eyes turn towards hers, curiosity on his face.

“Hey, I just had a question.”

“Yeah, shoot.”

Bokuto’s eyes face forward as she still looks at him, his eyes turning again as he nudges his head. Y/N’s eyes follow in the direction to see Osamu skating with Kaori and smiling.

“Does Osamu like you?”

Feeling a pair of eyes on him, Osamu turns, seeing Y/N staring at him. He smiles, giving her a wave then returns back to his conversation with Kaori.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“And there’s one minute on the clock folks!”

The group of friends all sit huddled together in the cold, while other bystanders around them buzz with excitement, confetti and snow flying around already.

Kaori shows Y/N tiktoks, with Akaashi occasionally looking over her shoulder, the uproar of the already booming noise blasting.

“Hey Y/N?” Hearing her name, she leans closer to Akaashi to hear him better

“Yes Akaashi?”

“I just had a question”

“Go ahead.”

“Maybe it’s much too early in the game.”

“Oh, but what the hell, I thought I’d ask you just the same”

“I really enjoyed tonight, Y/N.”

“Me too Akaashi, me too.”

“So”

“What are you doing next New Years Eve?”

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Notes

Akaashi does not like Y/N

Y/N does not like Akaashi

The Inarizaki friend group has had this tradition for about 3 years, but they all agreed having more friends with them was nice

For once I’m going to give clarification :D

Akaashi was talking about all of them hanging out on New Years Eve, he wants to do it again next year even though this year just began

Atsumu and Keiko are NOT dating

Atsumu and Keiko do not like eachother

Suna does not like Keiko

Keiko does not like Suna

Back to Masterlist

C. 14 <- C. 15 -> C. 16

Tagging: @winunk @kurushiisaboss @lexysclubhouse @haikyuu-appreciation-club @pumpkiethepie @mint-mai @writingfreakk @tendousfingertape5 @bbyouamazin @navymacaroons @helloalex80 @heavenini @tchalameme @foxxtrot-116 @kageyamasgirl @noya-sleftankle @mariachiii @rory-cakes @sailorstrawberi @iidanotlida @animeflower26 @anngelllla @kneekoteen @reina-de-tay @ish-scribbles @javj @little-dark-empress @athenarosaline @sugawaras-simpsquad @elianetsantana @peteunderoos @thatswhatmakesyoumiserable @ntimacy @i-have-randomthoughts @420-uwu @halesandy @immxnty @yamayoomi @ohmsjedi @tazzi-baby @marissaraeblr

Leave a message, comment, or an ask if you’d like to be added!

Also, there is a form regarding somethings.

Answer this: HERE!

Have a safe n happy New Year!

149 notes · View notes

rosy-wooyoung · 5 years ago

Text

He needs someone [part II] | Park Seonghwa

Word count: 3.8k [of nonsense as usual] Genre: fluff [with a hint of what I consider suggestiveness at some point but nothing too spicy] Pairing: kindergarten teacher! reader x police officer!, single dad! Seonghwa A/N: Here is the long-awaited part II! The plot goes a bit everywhere since I had no inspo and I didn’t originally plan to write a second part, I just hope it will be enough :) thank you for all the love you showed for the first part, I almost cried when I saw the number of notes that it had. Hopefully, you will enjoy this part as much as the other one!! Warnings: none [except maybe it’s disgustingly sweet and cliché but if you are on my blog you know that’s how i write hehe]

second part of this fic.

Within the past few weeks, a lot of hectic things had happened, but you were happy with how the situation turned out. You were afraid to have overstepped the boundaries by interfering in the private life of a police officer, simply for the well-being of his son, but he had been diligent enough to forgive you and let you into his life, a few days later.

Everything was new for both of you. It has been a long time since you've shared your life with someone, and it was sometimes hard to get used to living together again. You were just too tired to go for a drink on weekdays or during the weekend with a stranger, who was most likely not to suit you. Seonghwa, unlike you, had tried everything, but to no avail, especially since he had a child. Single women didn't usually interest in being in charge of a little being who does not come from them. When you wanted to show affection to your lover, you had to wait until Haneul was asleep to be able to exchange a few touches or a kiss a little more languid than the quick ones you exchanged before leaving for work.

Seonghwa’s mother already adored you. You noticed that she spoke a little meanly about Haneul’s mother, which is also understandable from her point of view. She had hurt her son and grandson by leaving them to handle things on their own. You were a little apprehensive about meeting her, but the first time you came home after the incident in the car, she warmly welcomed you into the family house. You don't know what you did to make her love you so much, but you weren't against being in good terms with her.

This morning, you were waiting for your students at the entrance to the school playground, greeting the parents who were bringing their children. Some left as quickly as they arrived, probably late for work, while others started chatting together, looking after their children out of the corner of their eye. A familiar figure approached you and you recognized one of your students accompanied by his father. He started to chat with you, and it was rather boring. It wasn't the first time he had spoken to you; it had even become routine since it was warmer outside and you allowed yourself to wait for your students without catching a cold. You told your colleague who was older than you about this man, and she immediately warned you about him. He was a father, sure, but he was single. And ready to mingle, to settle down with any woman that said yes to anything. He had apparently flirted with the majority of your colleagues and the mothers who were awaiting their children, whether they were younger or older than you, married or not.

As soon as you learnt about this man's intentions, you immediately understood his interests and started being more careful. You politely rejected his advances, saying that you had a lot to do and that there were other things more important to you in life than all that dating stuff. But he did not lose hope.

A hint of relief hit the tip of its nose when you saw a police car approaching the school. You kept a neutral face, trying not to betray your emotions in front of the father. Haneul pushed open the back door of the car and ran towards you, carrying a small transparent box in his hands. You smiled and stretched your arms towards the little boy who wrapped his frail arms around your legs.

"Hi Haneul, how are you this morning?" "Y/N! Look what we found in the garden with Daddy! I named it Bobby." He showed you the transparent box where a small green frog climbed the wall, trying to escape, but Haneul held the lid tight between his fingers. You lifted him up and held him on your waist so that he could show you the frog up closer. "Your frog is beautiful!" You exclaimed and kissed the little boy on the cheek, having completely forgotten that the other father was still standing next to you. He watched you with an amused look at first, but he instantly frowned when you had shown some complicity with Haneul. "Do you...kiss all your students like that or-" You turned your head to the man, realizing he was still there and what you did. You wanted to justify yourself, but someone interrupted you. "Hello, Sweetheart." Seonghwa stood before you, a thin smile on his lips. It disappeared as soon as the policeman turned to face the man who had turned livid. His eyes went back and forth between Haneul, the hand that Seonghwa had on your waist and the proximity of your faces. He apologized while walking away and you put the little boy down to let him go play with his friends.

Seonghwa's hand travelled into the hollow of your back and drew you closer. Even though he was gone, he knew the father had still his eyes on you. His lips hovered over yours, his other hand tenderly cupping your cheek.

"Not here, please. Children and parents are watching us." Your eyes were avoiding his and looked around, preoccupied about the looks of others. Seonghwa lifted your head by the chin and he looked into your eyes. "I don't care," his voice was hoarse and powerful, he almost sounded pissed off. "They can look, I don't care. He was too close and I don't like that. I don't like seeing people I love being bothered by weird strangers." You barely had time to hear his words when he kissed you passionately. The liveliness of the kiss surprised you so much that you had to hold on to Seonghwa's uniform to not lose your balance. It was the first time he had shown himself in such a way in public, so possessive as he was currently behaving. His jealousy made you smile slightly into the kiss.

When he ended it, you smoothed your top and cleared your throat, as Seonghwa was staring at you with a smirk. You gave him one last kiss at the corner of his mouth and one last look.

"Tonight. We're talking about this tonight." You tried to stay calm and neutral but the redness of your cheeks betrayed you. A satisfied smile appeared on Seonghwa's lips, who winked at you before walking back to his police car. You gathered your students before bringing them into your class, still a little animated about what just happened in the playground.

The day was coming to an end and you had not forgotten the discussion you needed to have with Seonghwa. During the afternoon, he had sent you a message that his mother will pick up her grandson from school and that you didn’t need to take care of him. You gently greeted your boyfriend's mother and chatted with her for a while before you went home. You put down your bag and coat at the entrance, impatient at the idea of taking a good shower. But you didn't even have time to head to the bathroom that someone rang at your door.

As you expected it, Seonghwa was standing in front of you, a bouquet of red roses in hand. You grabbed him by the arm in your apartment and closed the door behind him.

"What do I owe the honour of this bouquet of flowers?" You questioned him with a smile as he handed it to you. "I don't know," Seonghwa followed you teasingly as you entered the kitchen to take out a vase. You poured water in it and put the flowers in, placing it on the living room table. "Perhaps the beauty, the charm, the sweetness, the intelligence and the empathy of my dear and lovely Y/N," He mentioned qualities between each kiss he placed on your skin, the next lower than the previous one. He kept on going from your forehead to arrive in the hollow of your collarbone, before rising back towards your face. "Don't try to distract me, we are having a conversation right now." You put your hands on his chest to slightly push him away, but he kept a firm grip around you. You took a deep breath to try to keep some self-control, but Seonghwa wasn't really helping.

"Oh really, and on what is this conversation about?" He said, raising a mocking eyebrow, feigning ignorance. "About your inappropriate behaviour in the schoolyard this morning." You touched the tip of his nose as you pulled yourself out of his embrace, but he stopped you by sneaking an arm around your waist. "I see big words are being employed," he whispered in the crook of your ear, causing the cheeks to turn a shade pinker. "But this behaviour was completely appropriate to the situation we were into." "No, I don't think so. I just think you were jealous." You snickered, a pinch at the waist made you yelp and calm you down instantly. "Me? Jealous? No, it's quite the opposite, actually. I trust you with all my heart, honey, I just don't trust other men’s intentions. And I saw that you were uncomfortable, so don’t try to play tough." His voice was calm and confident, while yours trembled and was hesitant. As a police officer, he had to keep his cool and he was very good at it. "You are very attractive when you try to be bossy, I would’ve liked to have a teacher like you." He whispered in your ear. He was trying to distract you, and it worked. ”Stop your nonsense now!" You said, turning around in his grip, a malicious look filled your eyes. Your mouth was only a few millimetres from his and his eyes were filled with desire, love and admiration. Seonghwa only let his emotions show through when he was alone with you. He smiled at you and pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. "You are so gorgeous," he whispered as if he wanted only you to hear it, even if you were alone in your apartment. "I said, don’t talk rubbish," you giggled, kissing his cheek. He tightened his grip and stared at you deeply. Something in his eyes changed. They weren't teasing or goofy anymore, it was only seriousness. "I'm telling the truth; I really mean it. And, one day, I wanna show it to you." His smile showed nothing but kindness and kissed your temple.

"Do you want to eat something? I don’t know if I’ve shopped for today." You changed the subject as you took your lover's hand and led him into the kitchen. "Don't you want to order? It would be easier, and we could spend more time together,” He pouted and persuaded you by his good ideas. "If you want, but I would have loved to cook with you." "Another time, honey. Why not with Haneul, too?" You shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, why not!" After all, it was a way for you to get closer to the mini version of Seonghwa, even if you were already very close. He still had a bit of trouble not calling you by your name when he was in class, but a colder stare was enough for him to understand and call you Teacher Y/N again.

You settled on the sofa when Seonghwa opened the door to the Chinese delivery man. He put everything on the coffee table and served you food, a smile decorating his lips every time your eyes met. Seonghwa was a whole other person in private, much warmer and smiling than when he worked. His smile was your weakness, and his big hazel eyes made you fall in love a little more with him every day.

Your character, your smile, your sparkling eyes, everything related to you drove Seonghwa completely crazy. He won’t ever say it, but he thinks he has never been this much in love before. Of course, he loved Haneul's mom a lot, but she was nothing compared to you. You were patient and kind; you hadn't judged him on his past and that is partly the reason why he fell in love with you. That you love him, even if he has a child, you care for his son, and really, he is grateful to have come across a woman like you.

"Oh, I wanted to ask you something," you broke the silence, your voice covering those of the characters in the film you were watching. "Tell me," he put his plate and chopsticks down for a sip of his soda. "Each year, I organize a school excursion where I go in nature or to a museum with the children to "celebrate" the end of the year. Would you like to be a companion to help me look after the children? I was unlucky enough to ask this at a parents' meeting and the man of this morning rushed to accompany us." Seonghwa grunted at the mention of this man but relaxed when he remembered your question. "I'm going to see if I can take a day off, I may be on patrol or keep a close eye on the neighbourhood at night. You know, the days are starting to grow again, and young people are sometimes turbulent, but I'll see what I can do." You smiled at him and started eating again, while Seonghwa caressed your cheek with the back of his hand. "It would make me happy to have you with me, and I'm sure Haneul would be happy as well if you come. He keeps telling his little friends about you, it's very endearing." Seonghwa stifled a little laugh. "Are you serious?" "I promise! He stands in the middle of the class, his classmates sitting around him, and he explains some things that you told him. Even if I doubt that they are all true, he’s very proud to have an officer as a dad." Seonghwa looked at you askance with a smirk. "Not all true, hm? What do you mean by that? That I tell him nonsense?" He teased while moving closer to you on the couch and putting his hand on your thigh. "No, but I doubt you beat a dragon with your bare hands last night, am I wrong?" "You don't know what I'm doing while everyone is asleep," you rolled your eyes and shook your head at your boyfriend's childish words. "Anyway, I will try my best to be free on that day. I really want to spend time with you." He winked at you and got ready to eat again, but he stopped. "Don't take the other idiot if I can't, please. I don't want him hanging around you, he’s already a pain in the ass when he comes to complain to us at work. It's in his best interests not to touch one of your hair or Haneul’s." "Seonghwa, I’m only teasing. I’ll never go with him. Not for my excursion, nor I’ll leave you for him. I'll go with your mom or a colleague if you can’t come, don’t worry about it." He nodded and you kissed his cheek to reassure him. You understood that his jealousy was his way of showing you that he cared and that he was still a bit insecure about you leaving for another man, so you were trying your best to comfort him. Some guys have used this method on you by the past, but you can see in Seonghwa’s eyes and actions that he doesn’t want to lose you and that he genuinely cares about you.

The school trip was tomorrow. It's been a few weeks since you had asked Seonghwa to come with you and your class and everything worked for the best. Haneul was euphoric about having his father as a parental figure for this trip, it was hard to keep him calm.

"Haneul, calm down," his grandmother scolded him, "Daddy won't come with you if you keep behaving like that." "No please, Granny, I want Daddy to come." Haneul whined, gripping his grandmother’s hand as he looked up at her. "Then stay calm and help Y/N, sweetie." "Okay, Granny!" He yelled as he went to his room to gather his stuff after giving a kiss to his grandma. "Thank you," you whispered to her ear and she gently squeezed your forearm with a wink. Seonghwa had her eyes and her smile, it was amazing how much he looked like his mother. He had harder facial features, but the resemblance was clearly striking.

The bags prepared, you all got into Seonghwa's police car and drove to the police station, which was next to the meeting place you gave the parents. You were earlier than the time indicated, but there were already a few parents waiting and chatting with the children. The natural history museum that you wanted them to visit was unfortunately in another town, it was more convenient to hire a minibus to get there. Once all the students have arrived, you left for the museum. The children seemed happy to discover this natural history museum. Some had already seen it with their parents, but for others, it was the annual expedition and they were delighted.

Seonghwa looked particularly handsome today. He didn't have his uniform, but his simple clothes matched his fatherly attitude. Your students were mostly calm, they had followed the instructions of the museum manager. Some had children's cameras, others simply looked at stuffed animals or scared themselves by going to see animals that were wilder than others. He smiled at you from afar when he was taking care of the other part of the group.

Haneul spent a lot of time with you. He was holding your hand and asking you lots of questions about animals.

"Y/N, um, Teacher Y/N, I'm glad to have Daddy with us." "Really?” You asked him, holding his hand a little tighter. "I'm glad you're happy.” He nodded but he still seemed a little sad. "Sweetheart, I know it's hard for you to call me Teacher at school and Y/N at home, but you have to understand that it can’t change is since I am with your Daddy, but I am also your teacher," you squatted to be at his level and you swept his hair out of his eyes to see them. "That doesn't mean you matter less to me, you're an adorable big boy. I love you very much with your Daddy and nothing will change that, okay?” He nodded again, with a little more enthusiasm this time and you stood back up. "Children! Shall we go have lunch outside?” The children gathered around you and nodded vigorously, some rubbed their stomachs and smiled.

Seonghwa helped you set up the large tablecloth that you had loaded on and the children took off their shoes before sitting on it. You helped them unpack their sandwiches and you offered them each a chocolate bar for being very behaving well during the visit and the meal. After finishing their lunch and eating their desserts, the majority ran towards the playground which was located a few meters from you, while the rest stayed near you and rested. Haneul returned from the playground soon after and he looked tired. He rubbed his eyes with his little fists and laid his head on his father's shoulder, who smiled and took him in his arms. Haneul fell asleep with his head on his father's lap a few seconds after Seonghwa sat down near him.

The day was coming to an end, the first children were already almost asleep on the tablecloth. Haneul had woken up from his nap and was playing with the other energised children. He was the leader of a small group, who had picked daisies and made a big bouquet for you. When you decided that it was time to leave, you all took your bag and went back to the vehicle. Seonghwa was driving the minibus to the meeting point of this morning. You could read the tiredness on his face, which you came to caress with the back of your hand. He grabbed it and placed a long kiss on it, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Aren’t you too tired?” You were talking to him softly; some children were sleeping soundly, and you didn't want to wake them up. They had a lot of fun in the park and watching them was also pretty tiring. "Yes," Seonghwa confessed, laughing, "I still don't know how you manage to do this every day. I feel like I'm reliving my police school entrance tests. They should do this as a test, it's just as tiring." "You indeed need to have a strong mind to handle these little children," you smiled as you looked at them in the rear-view mirror. "But I know you have it," Seonghwa stopped at a red light and planted his eyes in yours. When he sent you that look, you had flashbacks from the first time you found yourself in his car. It surprised you and you didn't want to go through it again. "At home," you whispered and Seonghwa chuckled at your words, shaking his head. He pressed the accelerator when the light turned green and you sighed with relief when you saw the parking lot with the parents who were waiting for you.

Once all the bags and caps have been returned to their little owners, you wish your students and parents a good weekend and you walk to the police car. Haneul was also tired, it would be easy to put him to bed and enjoy Seonghwa’s presence. It's hard not to show too much affection when you're in public. You wanted to keep your strict figure as a teacher, but you also wanted to enjoy your love life freely. You opened the back door and Haneul ran to you and jumped, letting you fasten his belt. You kissed his forehead and closed the door. You open the passenger door and settled in, waiting for Seonghwa to close the trunk.

When you walked through the front door, a divine smell of food ran through your nostrils, making your stomach growl. You headed for the kitchen. The hot plates were occupied by pots filled with food, covered with lids to keep it warm. Seonghwa's mom had left a note on the counter wishing you a good evening.

"She's really amazing.” You muttered as Seonghwa went upstairs with Haneul. You heard the water flowing and began to eat since your belly started complaining.

A little bit later, Seonghwa reappeared in clean clothes and damp hair. He widened his eyes at the sight of food, and you showed him his mother's note.

"I already sent her a bouquet of flowers to thank her," Seonghwa smiled at you and started kissing you in the middle of the kitchen, his food long forgotten on the counter. You could feel all the tiredness in his kiss, it was lazier than usual, but it still managed to make your head spin. When you pulled away, he kissed your forehead and started to eat the portion you had prepared for him. You went upstairs with a plate for Haneul, but he was already asleep, so you took advantage of being on this floor to go take a shower and relax after this long day.

Seonghwa did not take long to join you in your shared bedroom. He collapsed on his side of the bed and let himself be gently lulled by the sounds of your hairdryer. When you climbed into the bed, the softness of your satin nightgown brushed against Seonghwa's bare chest, his arms wrapped around your shoulders. You kissed him very tenderly and flopped down beside him.

"Thank you for coming with me," you whispered and traced random shapes on his abs. “It was really nice today.” "Anything for you, my love," he whispered against your lips and you fell into his warm embrace after turning off your bedside lamp. “ If you asked me to, I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again tomorrow.” You giggled and gave him one last kiss before falling asleep. You loved Seonghwa and Haneul with all your heart, and nothing could change that. They were making you too happy to stay away from them.

511 notes · View notes

thelastspeecher · 4 years ago

Text

Fuck it, here, have a short little ficlet that takes place in the Best Revenge AU, with a new wrench in the works that I recently came up with for the AU. No title bc I’m tired and it’s late. Enjoy.

——————————————————————————————

Max let out a heavy sigh as he stared at the canned vegetables.

Angie’s been gone fer almost three years, and I’m still pickin’ up the pieces. He picked up a can of corn. Is this the brand she would get us? Just then, he heard a familiar gruff voice.

“I still can’t believe your folks didn’t march us to City Hall.” Max growled, clenching the can of corn hard enough to dent it.

Stan. AKA Flamethrower. My archnemesis. And Angie’s new beau. He banished the traitorous thought that Angie had been with Stan long enough that the relationship didn’t qualify as new. Max tossed the canned corn into his basket and exited the aisle, looking for Stan.

“I’m pretty sure their happiness ‘bout our relationship tempered their anger a bit,” replied another voice Max knew. Even now, it made him melt. His gaze finally fell on Stan and Angie. Angie had her back to him, but he would recognize her anywhere, from any angle.

“That’s a good point,” Stan said. Max ground his teeth.

Look at him. How could anyone believe that he’s not a dangerous criminal? He’s- Angie turned. Max’s thoughts stuttered to a stop. …No.

“What about this one?” Angie asked, picking up a baby onesie with butterflies on it. Stan shook his head.

“Nah. This one.” He handed her a onesie that was patterned with frogs. Angie beamed. “They’re gonna like creepy-crawlies like you, Ang.” Stan rested a hand on Angie’s large baby bump. “And be pyros like me.” Angie laughed, but still shushed him.

“Be careful what ya say, darlin’. Who knows who might hear us?”

“That’s a good point,” Max said loudly, marching over. Stan immediately pushed their shopping cart behind a nearby standee and stood in front of Angie, shielding her with his body. “Who might hear ya?”

“Max,” Stan said with barely controlled anger.

“That’s Mr. Hillcrest to ya.”

“You’re my fiancée’s ex-husband. I don’t think we need the formalities, buddy,” Stan drawled. The fury in Max’s veins abruptly cooled.

“Fiancée?” he croaked. Angie emerged from behind Stan.

“Yes. We’re engaged,” she confirmed. Max looked at her baby bump.

“I can see why,” he muttered.

“That happened after we got engaged,” Stan said shortly. Angie nodded. Max could only stare at his ex-wife. “This isn’t a zoo, you can’t stare at us. Move along.”

“With him?” Max asked softly. He stepped closer. Stan tensed. “Angie, we knew each other our whole lives! We were married fer years. But ya refused to have children with me. Yer willin’ to- to procreate with someone ya barely know?”

“Max, Stan and I have been together for three years,” Angie said, gentle yet firm. “I don’t barely know him. Time has passed.”

“But-”

“And those years of marriage, they weren’t no good,” she continued. “I mean, ya forgot our first anniversary! That’s the easiest one to remember! And ya were so insistent on us havin’ children right away, ya completely ignored my own wants ‘n needs. Stan…” Angie laced her fingers with Stan’s. “Stan listens to me. In fact, the very first thing he said when we found out about the pregnancy was that he was fine whether we kept it or not.”

“Joke’s on him,” Max mumbled. “Yer a good Catholic woman, ya wouldn’t get rid of a pregnancy.”

“Man, that’s not the point,” Stan said. “The point is that I left it up to her. You never let her have a say!”

“I-”

“Now, get outta here. I don’t wanna be banned from another store for fighting in the baby supplies aisle, but I will if I have to,” Stan snapped.

“That’s oddly specific,” Max commented. Stan glared at him. “Yer goin’ to be a fantastic father if ya have a history of fightin’ in the baby supplies aisle.”

“Max,” Angie said shortly. “Move on. I have. You need to, too.” She looked at the canned corn in Max’s shopping basket. Her eyes softened. “I usually got ya the brand with the yellow label.”

“…Thanks,” Max mumbled.

“It would be best if ya left us,” Angie said. “Let us live our lives, you live yours.”

“I…” Max’s anger ebbed away. “All right. Goodbye, Angie.” He turned around and walked away from the woman he’d spent his life in love with.

-----

Max disappeared into the canned goods aisle. Stan let out a sigh of relief. As if on cue, fussing emanated from the shopping cart he’d hurriedly hidden behind a standee.

“Dada!” Stan pulled the shopping cart back over. The toddler sitting in the seat of the cart raised his arms, tears in his eyes. “Dada!”

“All right, all right, bud,” Stan said gently, picking up Stanley Junior. “That was close, Ang. If Junior started whining even a minute sooner-”

“I know,” Angie said softly. “I know.” She stroked her son’s hair.

“Are you ever gonna tell him?” Stan asked. Angie paused. Stanley Junior was blond, like Angie, and brown-eyed like Stan. That, combined with the fact he’d inherited Angie’s nose, meant people didn’t question his parentage. But up close, his hair was too pale to be from Angie and his eyes too light to be from Stan. Anyone who knew Max and spent more than a few seconds looking at Junior knew who his biological father really was.

“I…”

“I mean, the guy’s a world-class douchebag, but I’d be pretty pissed if I was walking around and didn’t know I had a son.”

“The difference there is that yer a decent feller and Max isn’t,” Angie said. “I’ll tell Max about Junior when he’s earned it.”

“Angie…”

“Junior’s still too young. I don’t want him negatively influenced.” Angie met Stan’s eyes. “Do you?” Stan looked down at Junior, excitedly tugging on his shirt and babbling. He ruffled Junior’s hair. Junior looked up at him with wide eyes.

“No. I don’t.”

“Now that’s settled, let’s get back to shoppin’,” Angie said. “Junior’s got a coupla little sisters comin’, and we got to get ready fer ‘em.”

“Are you excited to be a big brother?” Stan cooed. Junior giggled and clapped his hands. Stan beamed. “That’s my boy.”

#normally I would put a read more but again I am too lazy and tired rip #(the commute home from work was absolute Hell)#Best Revenge AU #Stangie #Angie McGucket #Stanley Pines #Stangie Family #ficlet #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks

14 notes · View notes

lupin-for-president · 4 years ago

Note

all right so since you said you wanna break some hearts, i’m requesting this “Stop. Just stop. You’re not helping. And you’re not wanted here.” for wolfstar. Have fun while i mentally prepare to be emotionally destroyed.

It wasn’t a good day for Remus.

He had just went through probably the worst full moon that he’s had during his entire time at Hogwarts and honestly would prefer to just be alone right now.

Every time he tried to look in the mirror all he saw was that damned monster staring back at him, it was making him sick.

Because of this, he had been dealing with a single thought for days now, a thought that completely crushed him from the inside out. A thought he never wanted to act on, but one he just kept going back to every time a bad moon like this had happened.

Sirius deserves better.

It was the same thought that was playing over and over in his head right now, as he was sat at his desk, reading a book by himself.

The boys had all went to Hogsmeade today, and Remus declined the invitation to join them. He wasn’t in a good mood and he knew he would only end up ruining everyone else’s trip if he had went. The boys were due back any moment now, and Remus wasn’t entirely looking forward to it.

Sirius knew exactly why Remus had declined the invitation and it absolutely broke his heart.

He wanted to be able to make Remus see that he wasn’t a monster —that he was more than just his lycanthropy— but it always seemed that as soon as he started making progress, another bad moon would come around.

“Oh, Remy,” a voice sang out.

Remus hardly glanced up enough to see Sirius walking into their dorm, bags hanging from both of his arms, with James and Peter following close behind him.

The latter two boys went and sat on James’ bed, pulling things out of the bags they had brought back and began snacking on some chocolate frogs.

Sirius strolled over to Remus —dropping his bags down on his bed along the way— and wrapped his arms around his shoulders from behind.

“How’s my handsome boy doing today?” Sirius asked, pressing a kiss to Remus’ temple.

Remus didn’t know why the question absolutely pissed him off, Sirius was just checking on his well-being. If it were a normal day Remus would have been elated when Sirius came back and showered him in countless kisses.

But it wasn’t a normal day.

“Fine,” Remus muttered lowly, staring down at his book.

“Just fine?” Sirius smiled, kissing softly along Remus’ neck, “C’mon Moons, how can I cheer you up? I brought you some chocolate, it’s over on my bed.”

“Would you quit it,” Remus huffed, shrugging Sirius off of him.

Having Sirius’ arms around him usually helped him to feel better, not worse, but for some reason that wasn’t the case right now.

It was like every time Sirius touched him he was hit with a gut wrenching reminder that he was just some monster, someone unworthy of this angel of a boy behind him.

Sirius deserves better.

Sirius, of course, didn’t stop. He just smiled and ran a hand through Remus’ hair, leaning down to rest his chin on the sitting boy’s shoulder. Remus tightened his jaw slightly, no longer being able to focus on his book.

“You look so pretty today,” Sirius said softly, causing James and Peter to laugh from across the room, “I wanna see you smile. C’mon Re, smile for me.”

“Sirius—”

Remus froze when he felt Sirius drag a finger along one of the scars on his forearm, tracing it gently. His fingertip left a scolding hot burning sensation behind it, causing Remus to physically wince at the nonexistant pain. He felt tears welling in his eyes as anger began boiling through him.

Sirius deserves better.

“My pretty boy, you’re so perfect,” Sirius cooed, “I just can’t get over how beautiful you are, and you’re mine. Ugh, can you believe I got the hottest boy at Hogwarts to date me?”

Remus was trying to hold himself back, he really was, but it felt like he wasn’t in control of his body anymore. It was like someone —something— had taken over, like he really was a monster, on the inside.

“I especially love these,” Sirius whispered, fingers dancing over the scars again, “They are absolutely gorgeous, I could—”

“Stop! Just, stop. You’re not helping,” Remus snapped, standing up from his seat, causing Sirius to stumble back, “And you’re not wanted here.”

“What?” Sirius whispered, completely awestruck.

“Get out,” Remus grounded out through gritted teeth.

There were tears flowing down his cheeks now. Tears of anger, tears of frustration, tears of guilt, tears of pain. His hands clenched into a tight fists at his sides, knuckles turning white.

Sirius deserves better.

James and Peter stopped what they were doing and looked at the boys, their faces covered with a blanket of shock. They had seen Remus blow up before, but this was entirely different.

“Re, what’re you—”

“Didn’t you hear me? Get out!” Remus repeated, turning to Sirius with tears soaking his cheeks, “You’re not welcome here, I don’t want you here.”

“Hey, calm down mate,” James said, sliding off of his bed and taking a few steps toward the two boys.

Sirius was trying to hold it together, after all he was used to being Remus’ outlet of anger, but this time his words stung because it sounded like Remus meant them. He couldn’t stop the tears that started slipping from his eyes.

“If you aren’t leaving then I am,” Remus said bluntly, brushing past Sirius towards their door.

Sirius deserves better.

Sirius quickly grabbed onto his wrist, causing him to stop on spot. Remus didn’t dare look back, he knew he would end up staying if he did, he would end up giving in.

“Remus, please,” Sirius choked out.

Don’t listen, don’t listen, don’t listen.

Sirius deserves better.

“I’m done,” Remus said coldly, yanking his wrist free of Sirius’ grip.

He tried to drown out Sirius’ screams the best he could, pushing open their bedroom door and running down the steps. He hadn’t noticed he wasn’t breathing until he had to gasp for breath when he made it to the bottom. Remus ran out into the hall, curling up into a sobbing ball with his knees to his chest next to a suit of armor.

Lily found him like that about an hour later while she was doing her rounds, immediately dropping to her knees and asking him if he was alright and what had happened. When he finally had the breath to answer her, he could only push one sentence out through his lips.

“Sirius deserves better.”

#remus lupin #moony #padfoot #sirius black #wolfstar #remus x sirius #the marauders #marauders #moony x padfoot #wolfstar fluff #wolfstar angst #young sirius black #young marauders #young remus lupin #young wolfstar #james fleamont potter #james & peter & remus & sirius #peter pettigrew #james potter

87 notes · View notes

shebeafancyflapjack · 4 years ago

Text

First Strike

One last mini-fic before it’s back to work for me. Inspired by something @cecret-with-c said months ago about if Chris revealing himself had been more intense. It’s been a while since I wrote some whump as well.

What if Chris had done more than punch Eleanor in the face? (Sort of a sequel to Let Me In).

Once again, Michael is grateful that he was given a human suit with such long legs to help him sprint in such far strides. He’s had to do more running than he ever expected to do in the past couple of years and the only time he was ever ‘caught’ was when he willingly gave himself up, not that he counts that time as a loss.

He races across the town, ignoring the heads of the Janet babies who turn in his direction out of vague, programmed curiosity, making his way towards the most dull-looking beige bungalow on the corner. It’s the house of the grandmother no kid ever wanted to visit because all she did was sit in her armchair and forbid laughter while she ranted about the noisy ‘illegals’ living next door.

The door is closed. From the outside, there’s no obvious sign of distress.

And of course, every resident’s home is made to be sound-proof in the interest of privacy (a feature Tahani pushed on when Janet revealed the ‘surveillance’ feature of Michael’s previous experiment. They weren’t happy about that). It explains why the others are all going about town as normal despite being close enough to hear any sort of ruckus.

He braces himself before rushing forward, finding the door unlocked as he turns the handle.

“Eleanor?” He calls, immediately.

What awaits him inside is as bad as he predicted, furniture turned aside, a few smashed vases and torn, hideous flowery wallpaper. But at least nothing is on fire. Michael feels that’s always a plus to be counted in most situations.

He stumbles in, almost tripping over the leg of an upturned side-table.

“Shirt...Eleanor?!” Michael tries again, looking down the hall, the house seeming like a small bull just charged through the place.

“I’m here.”

He follows the dejected voice to the living room, finding her sat on the one half that remains of broken sofa. The tiny bit of relief he feels at first to see her in once piece shatters when she raises her head up from her hands.

An uneven pattern of swollen bruises decorate her face, tearful eyes shining between the puffy lids, blood still dripping from a cut on her lip and to the side of her left eyebrow. There’s marks on her throat, her hands and where her jacket has been torn on her arm as well.

One would think Michael had seen enough beaten up humans in his existence for it to no longer affect him, but the sight of Eleanor in this state cuts deep.

“Shirt...”

She braves the smallest smile; “You should see the other guy.” She then winces, possibly regretting speaking.

“Linda?!” He still can’t believe it. It doesn’t make sense!

He’d been leaving his office to head over to Tahani’s when he’d bumped into a furious Janet, frog-marching a pissed off looking Linda in her grip. Before Michael could ask what the fork she was doing, Janet simply ordered him to get over to Linda’s house, for no other reason than ‘Eleanor is there’. He didn’t need more than that.

It was only after he’d left he smelled the blood on Linda’s hands. Eleanor’s blood. The same that is sprinkled around the room in its destruction and still leaking from her fresh wounds.

“Turns out Linda’s not as boring as we thought.” Eleanor scoffs, raising one of her blackened hands and cringing in further pain; “Fork...”

He puts aside the issue of Linda for a moment as he goes to kneel in front of her.

“Here...” He gently takes her wrists, cradling what looks to be an almost crushed set of fingers, delicately; “It’s okay...”

He snaps his fingers.

Eleanor hisses again, in discomfort more than pain this time, as the bones reset and fuse, her cuts seal up and the bruising settles down, hopefully taking the pain away with it. She lets out a deep sigh, now simply looking pained with exhaustion.

“Thanks, bud...”

He stays kneeling before her, eyes full of concern.

“What happened?” He asks, carefully; “Why didn’t Janet do that?”

Eleanor shakes her head, “Y’know what? It’s crazy. I don’t even remember...I just came here, wanting to try again with Linda, see if I could have a talk and understand her...For a few minutes she was just quiet, sitting and sucking on her mints while I did all the talking...And then out of nowhere...she got up and...”

She clenches her fingers on her lap, clenching her jaw to the point Michael hears her teeth grind.

“Take your time.” He tells her; “What did she do?”

“Not she...He.” Eleanor smirks again, annoyed; “Suddenly Linda was speaking in a guy’s voice...Calling me an annoying little bench, raging at me about how he got so sick of having to ‘play nice’ around me, and put up with me, when all he wanted to do whenever I opened my mouth was...Well. You saw for yourself.”

Michael takes a breath. He saw the result. He dreads to imagine what actions the clearly-not-human took to leave Eleanor looking like that.

“I just kinda blacked out, I guess. At first it was almost funny...this little old woman picking her chair up and throwing it at the radio, that was kinda neat. Then he started throwing things at me and I wasn’t ready to get out the way. And then, when I tried to call for Janet...his hands were on me and...”

It might be more terrifying than the scene he walked in on, to see Eleanor Shellstrop this shaken and struggling to form a sentence.

He flips the coffee table back upright and slides it close so he can sit and take Eleanor’s healed hands in his. He cages them safely in his own, rubbing them warm.

She laughs again, tears spilling; “Fork, Michael....I dunno what’s wrong with me!”

“You just took ten rounds from a demon, no one is going to judge you for not being yourself.” At least, that’s what he’s assuming. If Linda isn’t a human then angel is also very improbable, which leaves one last option.

“I’ve dealt with ashholes on Earth trying to cup a feel when I wasn’t interested and I had no trouble handling myself or knowing how to get help. But this...” She trembles in his grip; “I was so....frozen. Like I couldn’t do anything! It was only when I thought he was gonna throw me through the window, I managed to call for Janet. She did offer to fix...” Eleanor gestures to her face; “But I just told her to get that motherforker out and somewhere secure...And I asked for you.”

She...wanted him? That causes a selfish little ball of light to glow inside of him, that he was the first one she wanted, out of the others.

Then he reminds himself that he’s the only one out of them with magic to heal.

“You said this guy talked about having to put up with you before?”

She nods; “Yeah, I can’t remember if he was in those memories I saw...He might have been at that bar in Canada, I don’t remember. Might be the concussion.”

“Ah...I think I know who Linda might be underneath. I...put you with a lot of demons who posed as your fake soul mate and...one of them kept coming to me with a lot of complaints by the end because he was sick of it. It was only because he had the most handsome skin suit out of them all, he claimed I was being objectifying.” Michael waves off that bit; “His name was Chris.”

If he was working for Shawn to infiltrate them, posing as one of the humans, did he agree to it purely for the chance to finally get to physically hurt Eleanor like he always begged Michael permission for? He feels sick at the idea that he contributed to this in a way.

“Well I’m glad Chrissy got it out of his system, now I know how guys really feel after having to put up with me.” Eleanor lightly jokes.

“No guy who’s been close to you would ever dream of hurting you like this.” He says that, earnestly.

Even before he changed sides, no matter how crazy Eleanor drove him, no matter how often she foiled his designs, he never wished physical hurt on her. Just to make her miserable by pranks and mind games. Nothing like this.

This was the last thing he ever wanted.

“I’m so sorry, Eleanor.” He brings one of her hands to his lips, “This is my fault.”

“No it’s not, dude.” She says, tired; “I should’ve waited for you to be done at Tahani’s before we checked on Linda...We agreed to do these things together...”

Damn, will he and Janet have to chaperone all the humans now until this is over, in case something else threatens them?

“I’m just pissed that we didn’t see through Linda’s whole boring schtick. Tahani even said something was up with her but I ignored it.” She groans and rubs her head.

“Does it still hurt?” Michael frowns. It shouldn’t do, if he did it right.

Eleanor shakes her head; “No...Not from the fight, just...all of this. I was so sure I could handle it but this...I wasn’t ready for...”

“Blame me. You wouldn’t be in this position if I hadn’t had that break down at the start.” Michael tells her, feeling twisted with guilt.

“You didn’t make me choose to take this on, Michael. Stop it. None of this is on you...I’m just glad you’re here now.”

“Of course.” He gets to his feet and offers her his hand; “C’mon. I think we better call Shawn and tell him we’ve got something of his. And the Judge too while we’re at it.”

Eleanor looks up at him and gives a smile, then a nod, before taking his hand and standing up.

They’re half-way to the door when there’s a sudden tug on his hand.

Michael turns, frowning, seeing Eleanor standing motionless behind him. Her fingers are gripping his with such ferocity, his fingers would probably crunch if he was human, while her shoulders tremble, the smallest wince of panic on her face.

“What is it?”

Her bottom lip wobbles, her eyes on the ajar pink door; “I...I dunno, I just...I d-don’t wanna go there yet.”

“Eleanor, he’s restrained. Janet’s way stronger than any demon, remember? And I wouldn’t let him touch you agai-.”

“I know that, dude, all right?!” She raises her volume, frustrated; “I don’t need your forking rational argument - I know that he’s all chained up and I’m safe and, whatever, because I’m a sexy badash who doesn’t get scared of anything so, fork you, this isn’t because I’m scared because I’m not! I’m fine! You’re the one who’s scared, I’m just protecting you, got it?! So lay the fork-.”

Once Michael has pulled her into his arms, she shuts up. It’s hard for her to keep babbling once her face is smothered into his chest. He waits for the resistance, to be shoved back, but nothing comes. Instead she stills, before her knees buckle, and her arms slip around his middle to cling to him. He places one hand on her neck and the other on the top of her head, stroking gently.

He just holds her tight for a moment, closing his eyes to stop his senses from seeing all the clear signs in the mess around them of what that deckhead did to her. How there’s a dent on the wall from where she was clearly thrown, or how that particular drop of blood stained on the carpet must have come from a blow to her mouth.

“Michael...Bit too tight, bud, you just fixed these ribs...” Eleanor sniffs against him.

“Sorry, sorry.” He loosens a little, still keeping her close, for as long as she clings to him. He pulls back after another minute to touch her face, searching for those green-blue eyes; “Listen. I know you, remember? No one’s aware of what a badash bench you are more than me, okay? But I also know you’re still human...And humans break, that’s what you guys do, it’s what makes you so amazing. That you can be so spunky even when you’re so stupidly fragile.”

And the more vulnerable they are, such as the small woman in his arms, the more courage they seem to hold to compensate.

“I know how often you’ve wanted to break down when things got tough but you always had to put up a front to save face. You don’t have to do that with me, remember?” He whispers, softly, his thumb brushing a tear from her face; “You were there for me when I collapsed like a Tahani being told she has to fly economy. You trust me to be still be there for you if you do the same right?”

She sniffs again, nodding.

“It’s not just you, bud. God can’t be seen weeping, can she?” She japes.

With a wave of his hand, the blinds close and the door shuts.

“God can have some privacy. You’ve earned it.” Michael smiles at her and brings her back in again, letting her curl into him, one of her hands grabbing at his jacket; “Take as long as you need. I’m sure Janet can have fun with Chris while he waits for us. Make him sweat. We’ll go when you’re ready.”

Perhaps he’ll ask Janet to have some ‘time alone’ in a quiet room with Chris, even after they’ve called Shawn and the Judge. He might not be Chris’ boss anymore but he still feels the need to offer some ‘managerial feedback’. Which is a euphemism, by the way, he plans on eviscerating the forknut.

He hears the smallest hum.

“Thanks, bud. I dunno what I’d do without you.” Eleanor whispers, still shaky, clinging onto him; “We should’ve known they’d be too dumb to use something like a Michael-suit and instead they pull a stunt like this that gives them away. Forking idiots.”

He chuckles with her, resting his cheek on her head as he keeps her close.

“They’re no match for us. Say it with me...We’ve got this.”

“That’s my line.”

“Our line.” He jostles her a little, delighted by the sound of her laughter, more so when she smiles up at him, that fire slowly starting to ignite in her eyes again.

Michael moves a strand of her hair away before planting a kiss on her forehead. Only fair, as she kissed his cheek last time, and it had felt...oddly pleasant.

She sighs, “Fine. We’ve got this.”

He looks down at her, feeling ready to burst with admiration. There she is. Eleanor Shellstrop. Holding it together after taking a pummelling from an immortal being.

Unstoppable, as always.

Better luck next time, Shawn, old pal. But try to lay a finger his humans again and there will be Here to pay.

#tgp fanfic #michael x eleanor #hellstrop #whump #hurt/comfort

13 notes · View notes

sugarcoated-eloquence · 5 years ago

Text

Foreboding (Targets: Part 2)

A/N: Hello, hello! Welcome to the shitshow, aka my blog. This is part two of a potential 4/5 part series that I am co-writing with the lovely @sweetestrequiems. Click here for Part 1. Each chapter is focused on a different queen or issue related to the queens. This specific chapter is Catherine Parr centric, but the other queens are all very present.

Please note the following ships are canon in this fic’s universe: Parrlyn, Aramour

{Trigger warnings: anxiety, mention of blood, slight violence}

I should also note some passages are written in German and Spanish and should be google searched to better comprehend the story.

Taglist: @sweetestrequiems, @theatergirl06, @silverpetals97, @six-fragile-dreams, @patdfobmcr-yt, @frogs-in-clogs, @mindless-pidgeon

Other than that..... enjoy! Below the cut.

It would not stop.

The constant feeling like something would go wrong.

Katherine Howard could not tell if it was the anxiety, or if it was something else. She physically felt okay, and everything seemed fine, but for the life of her, the girl could not put her finger on that bad feeling. Being so lost in her thoughts, Howard was found, brows furrowed, staring down at her food, rather than eating it. Of course, this raised concerns with her cousin, Anne Boleyn, and Jane Seymour. Boleyn’s face began to reflect the concern when she raised an eyebrow. Seymour had more of a sad-looking face, but nonetheless, the worry was quite present.

“Katherine?”

“Hey, Kitty… you okay?”

The two voices snapped Howard out of her trance. She looked up, shaking her head seconds after her attention went to the two women. “Yeah, yeah! Just had something come across my mind is all. I’m fine, really. Guess I’m just getting the typical pre-show jitters everyone gets,” which wasn’t a lie, either. But, Katherine did feel a pang of guilt in having to be dishonest with Jane and Anne. Howard was one of the Queens who always got some pre-show anxiety, alongside Catherine of Aragon– (much to everyone’s surprise)– and Boleyn. It wasn’t a rare occasion, though, considering they had just about an hour before they had to head to the theatre. It wouldn’t seem like much now, but this feeling Katherine Howard was having was not a good one.

––––––––––

During the matinee, Katherine could not shake off that constant thought.

But she was not alone. The feeling had begun to haunt her cousin Anne.

Anne Boleyn’s eyes began to glance around the audience, knowing that Katherine was in the middle of delivering the roast of the century to Jane, Catherine Parr, and Anna of Cleves. A certain man had caught her eye up in the upper level; the second row in the left Circle Slip of the Arts Theatre, to be more precise. Something about that blond hair. And cold, blue eyes. Something about the way he was leaning on the railing while he sat began to bother Anne. Her attention snapped right back to the show when she heard Katherine say, “I can’t even begin to think of how I could compete with you all. Oh wait, like this!” to signal the start of All You Wanna Do. But even with her focus on the show, Boleyn’s glances kept going back up to that strange man.

“I think we can all agree I’m the ten amongst these threes!”

What about him bothered Anne Boleyn so much? She did not know.

Was it his face? No, he seemed to be fairly attractive. Was it the way he stared at all of them? Possibly, since he seemed to be rather uncomfortable when Aragon brought up Leviticus and Mary in No Way. He also looked disgusted during Boleyn’s spotlight in Don’t Lose Ur Head. He looked very, very abhorred with Haus of Holbein and Anna of Cleves. But his eyes when Katherine Howard was singing screamed danger, and Anne could see it. Her frequent glancing that first day saw him tense up upon a few lines:

“Tall, large, Henry the Eighth.

Supreme Head of the Church of England.

Globally revered, although you wouldn’t know it from the look of that beard.”

And the end of All You Wanna Do, as far as Anne could tell from where she was on the stage, had him gripping the railing tightly. Was anger the reason he furrowed his eyebrows, or something else? The distance was not helping her much. Overall, she was picking up a few assumptions just from the one matinee show. This guy was either a historian that pretty much agreed with Henry VIII’s horrible decisions in life, or someone the Queens knew personally. What Anne decided to think though, was the former. Maybe this guy was just a historian and unimpressed with the show, right?

That first show could have not ended sooner. But as the lights on the stage went somewhat dim to allow the six ladies to exit, Anne Boleyn paused and allowed the others to go in front of her. She kept her gaze on that very man, and watched him stand up, turn around, and head on out of the seating area. The fact that she was the last one to leave concerned Cleves a bit. Right before she could even reach the dressing room, the queen in red put a hand on the green queen’s shoulder. “Moment mal, Anne. Was stört dich? Du hast anscheinend nicht dein gewohntes Lächeln am Ende der Show gehabt,” the German gently gave the shoulder a squeeze. Boleyn found herself sighing. “What’s going on? You normally smile and you were barely holding one up today by the end of the show,” Cleves made herself translate what she had previously said.

“I don’t know, honestly. I guess I thought I saw someone that Maggie knew in the audience. It was weird. I’m normally not out of it either. Anyways, if Aragon took the couch, she’s going to regret it. It’s my nap time,” the cheeky grin came back to the ruby lips. A nod from Cleves, and the two were well on their way to the dressing room. Was Aragon on the couch? Absolutely. And Anne 100% kicked her off of it just so she could lay down and sleep after she changed back into her comfortable clothes. No space buns, no makeup– just a giant hoodie and some sweatpants.

––––––––––

The other dressing room was a little more lively for a good while.

Katherine Howard was up on her feet, bouncing around with energy. Catherine Parr had decided to join her this afternoon. What were the two doing while Jane Seymour took the time to answer some tweets and messages? Dancing. The two ladies were dancing, which was almost the catalyst for Jane setting her phone down and joining them. In fact, she just wanted in on the fun. The three danced around for maybe half an hour, before a yawning Katherine Howard took to the couch to take a nap herself. Parr and Seymour stayed awake, with Parr looking for her notebook and Seymour going back to the tweets and messages.

“Cathy, look at this,” tapping her counterpart on the shoulder, the blonde woman moved her phone to be between them both. “It’s us with our kids!” If there was one thing Jane Seymour loved about the fans they had, it was all of the fanart of them with their kids. A smile was brought to Catherine Parr’s face as she looked up to meet Jane’s eyes. “If there’s one thing I have always appreciated, it’s that they know we aren’t the only Tudors that kicked some serious ass.” The laugh both of them shared was quiet, as to not wake Katherine up from her post-show nap.

The calligraphy pen twirled around Parr’s fingers for a solid minute or so before she finally began to write. Each queen had their thing to do post-matinee if it was a two-show day.

Catherine Parr wrote notes about her performances.

Jane Seymour responded to fans. And to as many of them as possible, too!

Both of the Beheaded Cousins slept their time away.

Anna of Cleves did various things, such as meditate and listen to music.

Catherine of Aragon normally left the dressing room to find a quiet spot in the theatre’s backstage to pray.

This normal routine was going to be shaken up a little too much. So much that Boleyn and Howard were too tense to take their usual between show naps.

––––––––––

The same seat every damn time.

Who the hell was this guy?

And why was he now looking so bitter towards Anne Boleyn and Katherine Howard?

Three weeks since the mystery man had first caught Boleyn’s eyes in the middle of a performance. But now it was a pattern. Two night shows and a matinee, and always on the exact same nights. Exact same seat, exact same everything. This was starting to piss Boleyn off, and scare Howard. He looked at them with more than just malicious intent in his eyes, to the point that Katherine sometimes blanked on her lines. It was to the point when Anne was singing, she’d put more emphasis on “Hold up, let me tell you how it went down.” just to spite him. This historian guy, or whoever he truly was, did not settle well with the cousins.

But on the night of a Sunday performance, the Queens all got a rude awakening they were not ready for. And the two to be given the first wave were none other than the Beheaded Cousins themselves:

Anne Boleyn and Katherine Howard.

––––––––––

This tension was so chilling that it even caused Anne to fumble a few of her lines. Even the infamous “Yeah, I read.” was not the usual confident, snarky remark it usually was. Having made eye contact with the mystery man while trying to deliver the line was definitely part of it, and for a moment there was a stiff awkwardness in the air. They’d recover quickly, of course, but the general consensus between the group was that something was wrong, and it didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

The man quickly left, before the end of bows, and somehow located an usher and told him he was an old friend of the girls’. The girls weren’t too akin to refusing to meet people, so immediately after stagedooring and meeting fans, they all headed backstage to meet whoever had requested a personal meet and greet. Kit’s the first through the door and she stops dead in her tracks. Those eyes. They were the same bright blue eyes that she saw in her dreams at night, the same eyes she stared into right before… well…

She swallows, backing up a little. Anne comes crashing through the door, chaos embodied, and happily dances around for a moment before noticing the anxiety seething from Howard’s small frame. “What’s wrong, love?” Kit simply points to the man, and Anne’s heart drops to her stomach as well. She too, can’t look away from those crystal eyes. The blond hair. The everything.

Anne can barely talk above a whisper could even tell it was him would make the situation less real. Maybe it wasn’t, maybe he was just another person. One can hope, but no luck there, Anne. She can feel Kit shaking, and reaches to take her hand, letting out a shaky breath and considering shouting for Parr.

The others trickle in quickly after, the ‘mystery man’ still just staring at the two cousins with ferocious intensity. The last to enter, though, is Jane Seymour. The metaphorical mother of the group, the caretaker, any other synonym you can think of. Jane is never one to cast judgement. She walks in, and despite the obvious tension, says a polite hello to the man. He simply nods in response.

Parr joins Anne at the hip, whispering to her. “Is he what’s got you all rattled, love?” Anne lets out a small nod. “It’s him.”

That statement reaches Jane’s ears and immediately her demeanor changes. She stands up a little straighter, setting her microphone down on the dressing room’s main table, and just looks at him. She moves a little closer, pushing the other girls behind her, and she can only say one thing.

“...Henry?”

He steps forward, and while the other girls move back, Jane stays planted to her spot. He smiles, trying to turn on the charm, reaching for her hands. “The one I truly lov—” He’s cut off by a slap. Yes, Jane Seymour just slapped a man. He brings a hand up to his red cheek, eye showing that it indeed, hurt. Cleves stifles a laugh.

“Don’t ever associate that word with me. You don’t know what love is.” A few tears well up in the blonde’s eyes, but refuses to let them fall. Not for him. “Love isn’t keeping your wife from holding her newborn child!” Her voice breaks slightly, but she takes a deep breath, centering herself.

“You all look so different.” The scruffy voice chimes, and immediately Kit visibly tenses up. She, unlike Jane, is unable to hold the tears in. Though they flow silently, they flow heavily. “There’s no need to cry, Katherine… or should I say ‘Kitty’, now?”

“Don’t speak to her. You do not have permission to do that.” Jane moves to block his view, but he simply repositions himself. Anne elects to go in for a dig. The devilish smirk returns, though small, and she gives Kit’s hand a squeeze before moving a tiny step forward.

“You know, mate, if you’re still having trouble… you know, with your little friend, we can get you a prescription for Viagra. Or Cialis, plenty of options.” She emphasizes ‘little’ by using her thumb and pointer finger to indicate his size. It makes Kit smile a little. The silence in the air was broken by a stifled laughter. That had to be the funniest thing Cleves ever heard Boleyn say outside of the wit written in the script. Aragon gave her a nudge, but even she agreed with the sentiment.

The blond man, finally revealed as the reincarnated Henry VIII, just narrowed his eyes. “How funny, laughter coming from someone who couldn’t perform.” Anne’s smirk went away, as she looked back towards Cleves with a hurt expression. Cleves’ grin was gone, with gritted teeth behind a closed mouth replacing it. Aragon let out a sigh. “That’s low for the man who so easily says he believes–”

“Catalina, don’t even get me started on you either.”

Not a single comment from Catherine Parr. She just stood there, feeling herself drift between a rational mind and pure impulse. Did this guy just come back to insult them, and get a second wind to take Katherine? Oh no, that was not happening. She saw it all, too. Jane’s reddening face from holding back the tears, Cleves’ rather tame anger, Aragon’s scowl… Kit’s pale face from the fear, and Anne being powerless. Jane Seymour honestly, had lost her mind way before Catherine Parr did in this scenario, but… there was always going to be a breaking point for the quiet one.

“So you and your whore cousin think you can just slander my name like that? I’d have you both back at the scaffold in front of the Tower if I had–”

“Scaffolds don’t exist anymore, you twat,” Boleyn hissed under her breath.

“Enough, Henry.”

This was where Parr had enough. The other Queens gave a glance at their surviving counterpart, who wasn’t even looking up at him. She was staring at the floor, but for now. “Cathy, you should probably not… y’know, say anything,” Boleyn barely managed to get that sentence out, considering the crushing feeling she had inside of her chest. All that got as a response was a laugh.

“The survivor, Catherine Parr. Tell me then, my love, are you just as stubborn as you were back then?” He got every other one to crack, but little did he know that he would be the one about to shatter like glass. “Because you should’ve been the one to meet an untimely fate like your counterparts here. Of course, new body means a second chance at being able to–”

Henry stops when he sees Parr’s shoulders shake a little. She’s… laughing?

That’s why she was looking down. When she did look up, one saw her smile shining on like a light. Safe to say, Catherine Parr was about to tear someone apart. “You’ve still got quite a loud mouth for an old man. Tell me, did you ever finally learn to take care of yourself, you bobolyne? Thinking you have any right to talk to the mother of not only your damned son, but also the woman who was loyal to you for twenty four years?! And even better, the one you so graciously called your sister after your marriage? You’ve got to be kidding me right now.”

Jane felt a little insulted that she had to take a jab at Edward, but had the feeling it was necessary considering the situation. Hopefully Parr would apologize for it later on.

“Okay, okay… fair. Not bad, Parr. But why do those two get to wear shiny chokers while the rest of you have crowns? Does it further emphasize my point that Anne Boleyn’s just a hell of a tempting woman and that Katherine Howard–”

The smile from Parr’s face faded. The anger was present and everyone was mortified to see someone so quiet speaking up like she was. With vitriol in her voice, Catherine Parr officially lost her temper.

“You KNOW exactly what the fuck happened, Henry.”

Aragon felt herself go to cover Katherine’s ears as her goddaughter began to lose her composure. “You KNOW why they have to wear those. You know damn well the crimes you fucking committed against them both, especially Katherine! She was a child, Henry! A fucking child who got manipulated and used! I want to hear nothing from your mouth, you snoutband! You have nothing to defend yourself with!”

Wiping a tear or two away, Jane Seymour began to lean into Anna of Cleves for some form of comfort. Even the German was surprised to be hearing the resentment coming out of such a powerful and rather cool-tempered woman. Just as Henry went to open his mouth, he stopped.

“Oh no, no sir! You have no right to talk here! Anne Boleyn lost her head over what, your delusions that she was out and about with men when you were just going around like you weren’t married? And because of that, she has to struggle to change her name? Are you actually insane or some shit?” The northern accent Parr had was thick. She was angry, and her voice said it for her if her facial expression did not. “Jane Seymour never got to hold Edward because you took him straight away for his christening. And she had to sit there, alone, in bed! Suffering through illness until she died without saying goodbye to her baby boy!”

Boleyn goes pale. Where did this anger even come from? She had no idea, but Parr was scaring her.

“My damn godmother was near a saint with all of the bullshit she had to put up with! Twenty four fucking years, and it wasn’t Anne who ruined the marriage. It was YOU. Aragon did some insanely remarkable things despite how you treated her! And Cleves! You just decide to take Cleves and humiliate her because she wasn’t beautiful enough for you? You’re an absolute wandought, Henry! You brought a Spanish lady and a German lady out of their comfort zones all because you didn’t know how to use your damn brain!”

At this point, Aragon had managed to sneak off into the dressing room, with Cleves now being the one to hold Howard. Boleyn was now hugging Seymour, actually terrified of not just Henry, but Parr.

Henry began to go pale. He was not going to recover from this.

“Who am I missing… let’s see, Katherine Howard? No, I got her. Anne Boleyn? Also got her. Jane Seymour? Check. Anna of Cleves? Check. Catherine of Aragon? Oh, yeah, her too. Would you look at that… I’m the only one left. Surprise surprise, the fucking survivor surviving again and this time, she gets to give it to you the exact way she wants to.”

“Cathy–”

“Shut up you lot. My turn to finally talk.”

A flinch from the group. Aragon had to take glances in and out of the dressing room.

“Oh wow, Catherine Parr. The survivor. The one who draws lines in arbitrary places, blah blah! She had two other husbands, what good could have she done being a Tudor queen? I DIDN’T TAKE ANY OF YOUR BULLSHIT IS WHAT I DID. Those books that everyone rumoured a woman was writing? Surprise, you tallowcatch! It was me! I’m the famed author of Tudor history. And I published under my own name once your pitiful body finally died. That can’t be that bad, Cathy. What a sad excuse for a sob story, right?”

Katherine Howard began to tremble more than she already was in Anna of Cleves’ arms. Catherine Parr made herself stand face to face with Henry.

“Ah, right, because she survived she deserves the backing vocals. WELL GUESS WHAT, HENRY? I’M HERE TO STAY. I HAD TO GIVE UP MY LIFE, MY LOVE, AND WHATEVER ELSE I WAS DOING TO TAKE CARE OF YOUR SORRY ASS. You might have forced these women into submission but no, I am not going to submit to some sad old man. You took away their rights, you took away their children… and poor Katherine…” A laugh. “You took poor Katherine’s childhood. You turned her into a disgraced whore. She is not and will never be one. She is a victim of your bullshit.”

“Catherine, my love–”

“No excuses now, Henry. I’m through. Your love ran cold years ago. And call me love one more damn time. See what happens.”

“My love–”

The weight of the sleeves helped Parr send her fist flying into his face. He stumbled back, feeling a warm sensation drip from his nose. Blood. He… was bleeding? “You actually got the nerve to punch an English King? You’re a mad woman, Parr. I’ll have you thrown on that scaffold just how–” A second punch, and this time, there was an audible crack of sorts.

“You wear a crown, but you’re no king. You’re a disgrace to human life, Henry. And this is for all of the women you hurt, manipulated, abused… and killed,” a lunge forward. The third strike was to his jaw, and the fourth was a solid kick to the chest with her heel being the first thing to make impact. Henry, having been taken by surprise from every hit, stumbled right back into a pair of men. Shaking her fist off, some of the blood ended up getting on the floor, and part of it remained on her hands.

“I’ll be back, Catherine! Mark my damn words! Let go of me, you imbeciles!”

“Like hell you’ll be back!”

And just as she took a step forward, Aragon went to hold on to one of her arms. “Someone help me hold her back!” Aragon needed the help. Parr was under such a fit of rage she was dragging her godmother across the hallway. Seymour had to let go of Boleyn to try and hold on to Parr’s other arm. She slowed down, but still had enough adrenaline surging through her to keep going. Cleves just gave Howard a gentle kiss on the cheek before running over to help the other two ladies. No arms? No problem. She just held on to one of Parr’s legs.

Boleyn pulled her cousin into a tight hug, feeling a shaky exhale leave her body. “Kitty? Kitty, are you okay?” Just a nod. Howard was terrified to open her mouth after seeing the ungodly wrath unfold before her eyes. “I-Is… she mad at us, Annie?” Quiet and almost inaudible. The poor girl was terrified to even talk out of fear that Parr was not just angry at Henry, but at them too.

“Catherine Parr, what in God’s name has gotten into you?” Aragon furrows her eyebrows. “This is not you. What is going on? Talk to me, please.”

Anne reaches to take Kit’s hand. “She’s… upset. Not at us, I promise.” Anne had to admit, all of the ferocity coming from Parr scared her a little bit. The yelling reminded her a little of when Henry first stormed in and accused her. Of course, she would set it aside, but it was scary in the moment. She looks in Kit’s eyes, which are now full of tears, sighing and pulling her into another tight hug and rubbing her back. “It’s okay, babes… He’s gonna go away and we will be okay, I promise. The girls aren’t gonna let him get to us.” Kit just buries her face into Anne’s shoulder and lets out the remainder of what she wouldn’t let out in front of Henry. Thank goodness the men had taken him into another room until the police arrived.

Anne pulls out of the hug for a moment and then walks Kit outside. “You look absolutely knackered, love… maybe we should head home as soon as all of this is over. Do you wanna change into something else? C’mon.” They both decide to change, but do so in the staff bathroom rather than in the dressing room. On the off chance Henry was able to see into the dressing room, they didn’t want him to see anything. Anne also thought a door with a lock was the safest.

Once they finish hanging up their costumes, the two settle into the couch, and just hold each other. Anne hums a little of La Vie en Rose, and quickly, Kit falls asleep. Anne doesn’t mind. They were all done with the day, it had already put them through the ringer.

There’s an apparent veil of exhaustion amongst all of the women, except Parr.

Sure, Henry had been apprehended at this point and he was stuck with his hands cuffed behind his back, but that didn’t stop him from being inches away from Parr’s face with a very devious smile. “I’ll be back, Catherine. And you six will have to deal with me all over again. Especially Kat–”

“Like hell you are!”

Catherine Parr broke her left arm free from Catherine of Aragon’s grip, and her right arm from Jane Seymour’s. The right hand took a vice-like grip on his shirt collar before her left fist came swinging at full power, and thensome since the weight of the costume added force. That impact had a very, very nasty sound to it. Even Cleves flinched at it, soon seeing the blond man fall straight to the floor with a bloody face. “Get anywhere near us and I will have you laying your head on a prison bench just how you made poor Katherine and Anne lay down as you murdered them!”

The officers picked up the unconscious Henry, and kindly thanked Jane, Anna, and Aragon for their cooperation. Parr however, got a warning, but that was about it.

Giving it a moment, knowing they would be out of earshot at this point, Parr releases a rather annoyed grumble. “He’ll fucking pay for his crimes against all of you. I swear on my life he will rot in a prison cell for what he did. If he thinks he can just show up out of nowhere and come back here to take us for fools, he’s wrong,” she almost hissed at the end. The thickness of her accent was making Aragon concerned, since to see someone as rational as her goddaughter be in such a state was a rare experience. Cleves and Seymour both looked up with mortified faces. Ever seen revenge personified as human? No? Now you have.

And her name was Catherine Parr.

“What in heaven was that?” Maggie asks, getting up and peeking out into the hallway. A small laugh. The thud was actually loud enough to wake the cousins, and they both get up, confused a little, and sleepily walk to join her at the door frame. Anne rubs her eyes and yawns, looking at Henry, now being pulled up by two police men.

She glances to Parr, and then to Henry, and upon sight of Parr’s hands, she lets out a small, startled gasp. His blood was actually on her knuckles. Probably mixed with her own, if her knuckles had bust. Kit has a similar reaction, coupled with hiding behind Anne at the sight of the wicked man. “Cathy… let me help you get cleaned up. Mags, can you grab the first aid kit out of my backpack?”

“Let’s just go home, first.” Parr says, a little cold, while watching an officer take Henry away. She wanted to watch up until he was inside of the car, so she could ensure he was going away for good. The other officer asks her a few questions about the situation, and she tells him everything that happened, down to the fact that they would be filing a restraining order, and that Henry was not allowed to see their show again.

––––––––––

The six women had gone home after waiting… maybe an extra ten minutes after Parr finished talking to the police officer. The car was dead silent on the ride back to the house, too.

“I’m actually mad about the fact that he’s actually attractive now,” Boleyn rolls her eyes as she walks in after Seymour. “I’m kidding, obvs. But how is he alive? We’ve been free for… who knows how long now and he comes back? What did he want, anyways?” Seymour turned to face Boleyn, giving the brunette a gentle pat on the head. “It sounded like revenge, but I think Cathy has the actual answer to that. We can talk to her when she’s a lot calmer, though… she’s very…”

“Upset, angry… name it, I am probably feeling it.”

“We all are, love…” Anne goes to her, gently taking her hands, looking at them carefully. One’s very busted up, and the blood has now dried and solidified. “Let me clean you up, c’mon.” She motions to the kitchen, and the two head in there, Parr sitting on the counter while Anne gets the first aid kit out. “I’m not ashamed of what I did today.” Parr stares at the floor, expecting some sort of lecture or argument to happen, but it doesn’t.

“You protected me. That’s all I could ever want.” Anne kisses her quickly on the cheek before pouring some hydrogen peroxide on a gauze cloth. Before she starts to press it to Cathy’s knuckles, she looks the girl straight in the eyes. “Don’t be mad for how much this is going to hurt, please.”

While those two work on that, the other girls drop their bags next to the door and slump into the chairs around the kitchen table, an apparent awkwardness in the air. Jane is the first to speak, and it’s absolutely filled with regret and apology. “Ladies, I am so sorry I lost my cool today. I shouldn’t have gotten so ‘up in arms.’ He just… I never…” She’s tearing up a little, and Kit offers a hand for her to squeeze as she tries to work through her words. She takes a deep breath, brushing some of her blonde hair out of her face.

“I never got to tell him all of that. All of the resentment.”

Cathy grumbles from the counter, agreeing with her statement. “He sure got a taste of all of my resentment.” Her cheeks were reddening, and Anne doesn’t know what else to do past wrapping the girl’s knuckles, so she lays a kiss on them, hoping that will calm her down. “Shhh… no need to get worked up over that toff, not again.” Her hand goes to hold Parr’s face. “Let’s be happy, okay?”

“Jane, we all had every right to react the way we did. Even Cathy had a right to bash his ugly face in.” Kit nods reassuringly, and the other queens mumble words of agreement, Anne and Parr silently making their way over to the table. Something about Parr’s energy was off, but the queens wouldn’t question it for the time being. They were all rattled, it didn’t take much to see it.

“I just feel that as the mother of the group, I reacted rather rashly. I think–” She has to hold back some tears. “I think I should’ve composed myself.” This ends with the ladies all essentially tackling Jane with a group hug, even Parr, though not really seeming to want to participate. It was getting late, anyways, and it was almost time for her to begin her nightly writing. It would help.

Anne clears her throat. “I think you did perfectly, Jane. He’s an absolute tosser for thinking he could face all six of us at once.” Kit laughs in agreement, and the two head upstairs. Parr quickly dismisses herself, Aragon trailing quickly behind after giving Jane a tight hug.

Cleves takes Jane’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “Gute Nacht, Jane. Versuche nicht zu viel darüber nachzudenken.” Jane sighs. “Still don’t speak German, love.”

“Try not to think too much about it.”

“Catherine,” Aragon knocks on the open door, furrowing her eyebrows. “Mija, what got into you today? That isn’t you. Where… where did you even go?” A sharp look from the sixth wife to the first, before it softened up. It eventually became more of a look of shame as Parr’s eyes went to the bandaged hand. She really did do a number on herself, but that blond haired Tudor nightmare deserved it. She wasn’t wrong, was she? Or, had her morality become such an ambiguous grey area that maybe it was wrong for her to have sucker punched the man who beheaded Katherine Howard so unfairly.

The shameful eyes look up, seeing Aragon’s concern despite the slight scowl. “I’m sorry, Lina. I… no se. Yo lo vi y... Me congelé. Es como si todo el sentido racional dejara mi cuerpo y me quedara con impulso. Lo juro, no... siempre así. Tu lo sabes! Aunque asusté a todos, no?” The hurt in her voice was evident. Parr knew she became the morally ambiguous of the group, which was normally not the good thing. Aragon’s expression lightened up just a little as she approached her goddaughter, and pulled her into a side hug. “Sucede, amor. Pero no te enfades tanto con alguien tan horrible. Seguimos amándote, y siempre nos preocuparemos por ti. Ninguna de nosotras te tiene miedo, y eso te lo prometo.”

Those last words gave Catherine Parr just a little bit of hope. Catherine of Aragon gave one last hug to the woman before heading on out the door, but not without “Don’t stay up late.” being the last thing she said to the sixth wife.

Kit and Anne stand in the hallway, chatting before going to their rooms, which were across from each other. “Lock your window, Annie, please.” It’s evident that Kit is still very worried about Henry figuring out where they live or figuring out how to get in. Anne nods, despite the fact that they lived on the second floor.. “Of course.” The girls hug and in a matter of seconds, they are both behind their respective closed doors.

Kit leans against the door for a moment after closing it, but not locking it, and a few silent tears fall before she starts to change into her pajamas. “You’re okay. You’re safe.” She mumbles to herself, turning on her string lights and turning off the main light of the room. She debates what kind of music to listen to, mulling over it for a few minutes before turning on some classical. It was different, but it would work.

Anne, on the other hand, immediately goes to lock her window and pull the shades closed, which was slightly saddening because she did enjoy looking at the night sky before she fell asleep. She sits on the edge of her bed for a moment, deep in thought about Cathy. She had to admit, the girl she saw today was one she had never seen before, and one she was pretty afraid of seeing again. That fire, while endearing… shook Anne a little. She has to force herself to shake off the thought that anger immediately translates to a person being anything remotely similar to Henry.

“Right, then… bed it is.” Anne shuts off her lights and lays down, picturing that starry sky in her own mind. It would do.

Jane settles in with the current book she was reading, a copy of Pride and Prejudice. A story of true love, one could say, and the text was actually helping to calm the blonde down about the events of the day. Aragon peeks in for a moment, and Jane gives her a soft smile, an unspoken agreement that they would be okay.

Though it seemed as if everyone was settling down, Catherine Parr had a storm bigger than a hurricane brewing inside.

––––––––––

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

Catherine Parr let that be the only sound to fill the silence. Normally, it would be music or something, but not tonight.

The calligraphy pen in her hands danced around her fingers, barely having touched the pages of the open notebook. Her vision was still blurred, much to her own surprise. Wrath was a powerful thing, and to have something take over the body for an amount of time would lead to consequences later in the night. In her case, it was a very horrid case of insomnia. While she dealt with insomnia most nights, she had the slightest feeling this was not the typical time to go to bed at 2 in the morning case. The pen began to slow down in her hand, and she held it still for the first time that whole night.

“It’s not the first time you write about how you feel, Cathy. It’s fine. It’s perfectly fine.”

It was not fine.

No matter how many times she told herself it would be fine, she could never believe it. Catherine Parr saw her hand shake, just the slightest, every time she wrote. Every memory from the last few hours was hazy, but simultaneously at the forefront of her mind. The usually clean lines of her penmanship were just the bit off from the feelings. Word after word, the anger began to flow onto the pages like water flowing down a river’s stream. So shaky, and so violent were the movements of Parr’s wrist. In comparison to the surprisingly smooth transition from thought to thought, her actions made her look a little crazed. One could even say she looked oddly desperate to finish writing.

Almost as if she was running out of time.

She was a writer in her past life. An author, really. The woman wrote books, psalms, meditations… name it, she probably has a manuscript of it somewhere. But this? This was not her. This frantic drive to write and write until the pages could take no more and the ink began to go through them was not Catherine Parr. In a way, it was almost symbolic. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

There it was again. The ticking of the clock.

Time was no longer a relevant thing for Parr. She just let the time go on.

Last she could remember, it was midnight. But nay, the clock spoke otherwise. A glance at it revealed it to be four in the morning. Her hand and wrist were cramped up, and the tears that she felt falling were drying on her face. The pages had become full of nonsensical phrases, mostly a result of the anger still in her system. But that anger began to fade from anger into a depression.

Why couldn’t she be stronger?

Why didn’t she do enough at the moment?

The pain finally struck her heart. Silence began to be her worst enemy, and something she thought she’d never do is what she did. Parr slams her hands on the desk, crying out, almost as if it were a scream or cry for help. The scream was enough to wake up Catherine of Aragon in an instant. A second and third one woke Jane Seymour and Anna of Cleves up. The fourth one got to Anne Boleyn. In a worried hurry, Aragon got out of bed and ran down the stairs to get to the door before almost ramming it down with her own body.

“Cathy? Mija, what’s the–… Cathy?”

What she saw was a torn woman in front of her. Her bandaged hand had a little blood seeping through the ends. Some of the curls were sticking to her face, and her eyes were all puffy and red. Aragon gently pulled Parr up and into a tight embrace. “Escúchame. Todo está bien, Cathy. Estamos en la casa.” Normally, Aragon had a commanding nature that gave off the feeling of someone being safeguarded behind a wall, but this was one of those moments she was willing to let her wall down. Parr’s grip tightened, with the tears coming back and rushing in like an ocean’s grey waves.

Catherine learned just a smidge of Spanish for her godmother. Enough to get by with a conversation or two, but she was not fluent in any way. “Duele, Lina,” a sniffle. “Todo esto duele y no hice lo suficiente para ayudar.” And there was something about her goddaughter using Spanish in such a defeated manner that made Aragon crack a little on the inside. Her own eyes were welling up with tears as she looked to the door.

Seymour, Cleves, and Boleyn.

All three of them with wide eyes and fairly concerned expressions. But it was Anne who saw the tears forming in Aragon’s eyes and threatening to spill. The two lock eyes and it takes everything in Anne to not crack too. She gives Aragon a look that says, ‘Let me try.’ Lina nods and gives Cathy’s hand a small squeeze, and Anne goes and kneels on the floor in front of her.

The other three stand in the hallway, knowing it was probably best to give the two a moment. “Did that not wake Kitty?” Cleves pauses, and then points in the general direction of Howard’s room, loud classical music streaming through her closed door.

Anne takes Parr’s hands. “Cathy, please talk to me… please, love.” It takes Parr a moment to look into Boleyn’s eyes, which are also filled with tears at this point. “It kills me to see you hurting.” A hand goes to wipe some tears from Parr’s cheeks. It lingers there, cupping her cheek, Anne’s thumb reflexively going back and forth to wipe more tears as they fall.

“It kills me to see you hurting.” Her statement is coupled with a small voice crack, and not one that you would usually find endearing. This was out of pure sadness and anger. She sighs. “I should’ve done more.” She looks at the floor, past Boleyn, though her head is now resting on the girl’s hand.

“He’s the one that deserves to be on a scaffold!” She starts to sob again, leaning forward, and Anne catches her, in a sense. Shaking with anger, she lets it out, nearly soaking Anne’s shirt in a matter of seconds. “He deserves to die! Why is he here?” Her breathing becomes slightly erratic, heaving breaths joining in with shallow sobs.

The three in the hallway silently elect to let the two work through it. It really seemed as if Anne was the only one who was going to be able to get her to calm down, even if only a fraction. Aragon lingers for a moment, and then decides finally to go back to her room, leaving the door open in case anyone needed anything. Jane does the same, but reads for a few minutes before going back to sleep.

Anne isn’t sure what to do, so she stands both of them up, having to support Parr a little, and just holds her, swaying back and forth slowly. “Shh… babe… he doesn’t deserve your tears…” Anne, you preach this, yet you’re a mess too. Albeit, a mess because Cathy is crying, but a mess nonetheless. “He… he’s getting his karma. He has to watch us thrive. And he can’t do a damned thing to us. We’re untouchable.” She was also telling herself this.

Parr nods quietly, latching on to Anne even more, as if letting her go would mean she’d disappear into thin air. Though she hadn’t actually said it, she knew she loved Anne. More than anything, and if punching Henry in the face was what she had to do to protect her, she’d do it every day for the rest of her life.

“Can I sleep in your room tonight?” She speaks softly, voice scratchy as a result of the outburst. It was nearing five o’clock at this point, but it didn’t matter. With no hesitation, Anne replies with a simple “Of course,” pulling away slightly to look Parr in the eyes. Those tired, red eyes, still wet with tears formed over a man who didn’t matter one bit. Not in this moment, he didn’t.

The two make their way to Boleyn’s room, a twin bed being the only place for them, but it would be plenty of space. Anne lays down first, patting the small space next to her for Parr to join. It’s almost as if they’re out as soon as they cover up.

Kit sleeps through all of this. Perhaps it’s the music blaring from her speakers, or the exhaustion from the events of the day, but it’s the first night the girl doesn’t wake up screaming. The other queens are really surprised to see her downstairs in the morning, looking well rested and pouring herself a cup of tea, seemingly fine. “G’morning.” She yawns, and the others just kind of look at each other as if reality has shifted. “Where are Cathy and Annie?”

“In bed, still.”

“Ja.”

“I should check on them.” Kit says, setting her tea down. Cleves joins her, cringing a little when Kit knocks awfully loudly on the door and pushes it open. “Halt die Klappe, Kit…” Kit turns and looks at her, a puzzled look on her face. Cleves rolls her eyes jokingly, and then whispers again. “You’re too loud.”

The sight upon opening the door is a combination of comedic and sweet. Parr is absolutely sprawled out on top of Anne, snoring loudly and taking up most of the bed. One of her hands is on Anne’s cheek, as if she had fallen asleep holding the girl’s face. Anne is awake, quietly scrolling through TikTok with headphones in. She looks at the two in the doorframe and smiles, looking down at Parr. ‘We’re okay.’ She mouths, and Jane and Aragon peek in, a small laugh coming from the Spanish queen. It warmed her heart to see the two all bundled up and Parr seemingly at peace, even if only for a moment.

Parr makes a small noise and shifts, essentially pulling Anne closer and wrapping a leg around her. The ladies all smile, electing to leave the two alone. It was evident that everything would be okay, at least for now. Anne kisses Cathy on the forehead, letting out a happy sigh. Parr subconsciously replies with a small snore, and the two stay there, safe in each other's arms, for most of the day.

A couple hours seem to pass and it’s about… noon, when Parr starts stirring. Anne notices this, and begins to smile. At least she was waking up. However, things were not going to go to plan, because in comparison to Anne, Catherine was a whole lot taller, and took up just a bit more space. Thinking for a moment she was still in her room, Parr went to try and roll to the other side of the bed, but immediately woke up at not having anything underneath her. A loud enough thudding noise got everyone’s attention.

The other four queens almost immediately ran to the doorframe, and Anne was sitting up.

In typical Boleyn fashion, she was laughing.

Parr on the other hand, was not very happy. “Ow…” Looking up, she just sees the green queen essentially laying back down because of the laughter, and a glance to the doorway reveals four others holding back laughter. “Oh haha, funny that Cathy Parr fell off a bed now is it?”

Through the laughter, Boleyn responds.

“It’s marvelous, love!”

#tw: blood #tw: violence #six #six musical #catherine parr #catherine of aragon #catalina de aragon #anna of cleves #anne boleyn #katherine howard #kitty howard #The Beheaded Cousins Write #sixfic #six fanfiction #parrlyn #aramour

73 notes · View notes

sparrow-flies-south · 5 years ago

Text

Put A Spell On You [1/3]

Fandom: Sanders Sides Rating: Teen Pairings: Prinxiety, very minor background Logicality Summary: Roman sighed, trying to figure out how best to explain it. “I think everyone’s in love with me.” Virgil rolled his eyes. “How do you walk around under the weight of that ego?”

Everyone is acting strangely around Roman. Thank god his best friend (and crush) Virgil seems to be unaffected, because he's going to need all the help he can get to figure out why everyone is confessing their love to him. Notes: 5 years later, and I’m back in a different fandom. Please be aware that this fic involves a love spell, and some of the consent issues inherent with that premise. There is a scene where one character kisses another under the influence of the spell.

Part Two Part Three

Also on AO3

Roman Prince sat in his Elemental Magic class, and tried to ignore the looks people kept shooting him.

At first, he thought he had just been imagining the feeling of eyes on him – clearly he had been spending too much time with Virgil. But hallway through the lecture, he had managed to catch a boy sitting two rows ahead of him staring at him. The boy had turned bright red and looked away immediately, but it had been enough to confirm Roman’s suspicions.

Being stared at was hardly an unfamiliar sensation. Roman had been an actor, after all, before coming here – still did want to be an actor, once he graduated. He knew how to grab attention and how to hold it. There was a kind of rush to it, having all eyes on you and knowing it’s because you chose it. Knowing you had the power to control where the crowd looked.

Roman wasn’t in control of it today.

So now he was hunched over his notes, trying to pay attention to the lecture because elemental magic really wasn’t his forte, and wondering what exactly he’d done to get the attention of the whole lecture hall.

He fought down the urge to pull his compact mirror out of his bag to check that there was nothing on his face. No one was laughing, so it probably wasn’t that. Probably.

Finally, the lecture ended, and Roman was out of his seat and on his way out of the door before anyone else could move. He didn’t even bother putting his things away, instead gathering them all into his arms as he fled the building.

Once he had put enough distance between himself and the lecture hall, he finally took the time to put his notebook and pencil case away, and then decided to hell with it, and pulled his mirror out of his bag. He didn’t have any classes until that afternoon, so at least he had time to fix whatever was wrong.

Except nothing was wrong.

Roman looked the same as he always did.

Feeling more confused than ever, Roman dropped the mirror back into his bag, and that was when he noticed the note someone had slipped inside it.

Hesitantly, Roman took it out and unfolded it.

Roman, it read. Your eyes are as deep as the ocean. Your body is like a Greek statue. There are not enough words in the English language to describe my love for you.

Roman should feel flattered. A secret admirer writing him love notes was the kind of thing he daydreamed about (though in his dreams, the notes usually ended up coming from one person in particular). Instead, the note just made an uncomfortable feeling settle in his stomach.

Perhaps it was a prank. Some class wide prank everyone had decided to pull on Roman because –

Well, Roman wasn’t sure why. He didn’t think he’d pissed anyone off lately. And it certainly wasn’t out of jealousy – he was only barely scraping by in that class, and that was with Logan tutoring him.

He shoved the note back inside his bag. Well, if it was a prank, he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of an answer, and by the end of the day, everyone would get bored of him, and things would go back to normal.

Not far away from him, a girl was casting glances at him, from where she stood surrounded by friends. Roman smiled awkwardly at her, and that seemed to be enough to encourage her to start walking towards him, determination written on her face.

Perhaps he’d spend the rest of the day in his apartment.

He quickly began walking across campus, but was interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Roman!”

Roman turned to see Patton jogging towards him, clearly out of breath. He didn’t have his backpack on, but he was carrying some kind of container in his hands.

Patton was always a welcome sight, but something about it seemed off, though Roman couldn’t quite tell what.

“Padre!” Roman greeted with a wave, as Patton finally slowed to a stop.

Patton laughed far too loudly. “Padre! That’s – that’s funny.”

“Um. Good,” Roman chuckled nervously. Suddenly, he remembered what was off. “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be in a lecture?”

Patton beamed at him. “You remembered! Oh, of course you did, you’re so smart, Roman! But anyway, I just had to see you.”

Ah. That explained Patton’s odd behaviour. “What do you want?” Roman asked, voice teasing.

Patton shoved the container he was carrying into Roman’s hands. “Here! I made these for you!”

Roman hesitated a moment before opening the container. Inside, it was filled with chocolate chip cookies.

“Patton, when did you find time to make these? You had lectures all morning.”

“Oh, I didn’t go to those,” Patton answered, waving a hand dismissively, “This was far more important.”

“How could this be more important than lectures?”

Maybe Patton was stress baking. But then, Roman couldn’t remember him mentioning any tests coming up.

“Because they’re for you, silly!” Patton’s expression changed to be oddly serious. ”Roman, you’re a really important person in my life.”

“You’re an important part of my life too, Patton.”

Whatever was wrong, it must be serious, because one level above baking in Patton’s Stress Metre™ was getting overly emotional about how much he loved his friends.

“I’m really glad we met. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you.”

Roman shifted uncomfortably. “Oh, I’m sure you’d get on fine. Anyway, Virgil and Logan-“

“They don’t matter,” Patton dismissed. “Not the way you matter to me.”

Roman blushed. “Well, thanks, Pat. I’m glad to hear it.”

“I really like you, Roman,” Patton said earnestly.

Roman laughed nervously. “I know. I really like you too.”

“No, I mean, I really like you.”

“I… know? Patton, are you feeling okay?”

“No, I mean-“ Patton made a frustrated sound, and then took a step closer to Roman. They were nearly touching. Patton’s eyes were shining with something Roman couldn’t name. He gently laid one hand against Roman’s cheek, and Roman found himself frozen in place. Patton leaned in to him, and then-

And then they were kissing.

Or rather, Patton was kissing him, because Roman himself unable to react as his brain short circuited.

Patton pulled away, smiling gently at him. “Do you see what I mean now?”

“Urk,” Roman said.

Patton frowned. “Roman?”

And oh, god, Roman was going to have to let Patton down somehow, and how was he supposed to that? Only a monster would reject someone like Patton, but clearly Roman was a monster, because he loved Patton, but not in a romantic way, and entering a relationship with Patton just wouldn’t be fair, not while Roman was hopelessly in love with-

Roman pulled himself away from that thought. That way madness lies.

“Uh, Patton, that’s great, but, uh-“ Roman spotted something over Patton’s shoulder. “Oh, God.”

As if the day wasn’t bad enough, heading towards the two of them was Logan. Logan, who was one of Roman’s closest friends. Logan, who, though he refused to admit it, was in love with Patton. Logan, who must have seen the kiss.

Logan, who looked really, really, pissed.

Roman considered turning himself into a frog. Anything to get out of this situation.

Patton turn to look over his shoulder, frowning. His expression turned to ice, which looked incredibly wrong on Patton’s face.

“Logan,” he greeted, colder than Roman had ever heard him.

“Patton,” Logan responded in kind, and then his voice warmed as he said, “Roman. It’s good to see you.”

“It’s, uh, good to see you too, specs.” Roman looked nervously between the other two, who were glaring daggers at each other.

Had they had a fight? Was that why Patton had kissed him – some attempt to make Logan jealous?

That didn’t sound right, but then, none of this sounded right.

“Roman,” Patton said brightly, “Why don’t we continue our conversation somewhere else?”

“Roman,” Logan added before Roman could reply, “There is something I want to show you. Perhaps you would like to come with me?”

“Uh,” Roman eloquently replied.

“That’s nice, Logan, but Roman and I were in the middle of something, right?” Patton turned back to Roman. “Come on, I’m sure you don’t really want Logan boring you.”

“Oh, but he does want you throwing yourself at him?”

Patton glared. “Roman and I are perfect together. Right, Roman?”

“Hang on-“

“Please. Roman, I assure you, I would make a far superior romantic partner than Patton?”

“Oh, you think so?”

“I don’t think so, I know so.”

“Please, how would you know how to treat Roman right? You don’t know the first thing about love.”

“That is patently untrue.”

“Stop!” Roman shouted, and the two turned to look at them.

Patton beamed. “Hey, Logan, why don’t we let Roman decide who he wants to be with?”

“For once, Patton, you make an excellent suggestion. Roman?”

Roman looked between them both.

“Well, Roman?” Patton prompted.

“I, uh – I gotta go.”

And then, Roman decided to take a page out of Virgil’s book and boldly teleported away.

***

Roman landed right outside his door, blocked from just teleporting into the apartment by the wards Virgil had insisted on putting up when they first moved in. He threw the door open and rushed inside, locking the door behind him and then locking it again with magic. Finally, he leaned against the door and allowed himself a moment of panic.

“Princey, what the hell?”

Roman jumped, and then noticed that Virgil was sitting on the sofa, looking at Roman as if he’d lost his mind.

“Ah, Virgil, hello,” Roman said, glancing around the room as he tried to calculate the best escape route if Virgil decided to throw himself at him.

Not that Roman would mind Virgil throwing himself under most circumstances.

A flash of hurt crossed Virgil’s face for a moment, and right, Roman probably looked like an asshole who was trying to avoid his best friend right now.

“Say, Virgil.” Roman risked taking a step towards him. “What do you think of me?”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Right now I think you’re insane.”

Roman had never felt so relieved to hear Virgil insult him.

“Oh, thank god,” he said, and threw himself down on the sofa next to Virgil.

“Care to explain what’s going on?” Virgil asked.

Roman sighed, trying to figure out how best to explain it. “I think everyone’s in love with me.”

Nailed it.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “How do you walk around under the weight of that ego?”

Or maybe not.

Roman groaned, and dropped his head into his hands.

Virgil laid a hand on his shoulder. “Hey,” he said, and when Roman looked up, he looked worried. “C’mon, tell me what’s really wrong?”

Roman sighed. “I wasn’t actually joking, you know.”

Virgil furrowed his brow, so Roman decided to just launch straight into it.

“Patton kissed me.”

Virgil froze.

“Oh,” he said, and there was something wrong with his voice. “Well, that’s… great, I guess. Patton’s a good guy.”

Oh, god, now Virgil thought he and Patton were dating.

“No, it’s not,” Roman blurted. “I mean, yeah, Patton’s great, but this… Virgil, has Patton ever showed any interest in me?”

“Well, no, but I’m not exactly the guy people go to for relationship advice.”

“Right! But today, Patton came up to me, and apparently he skipped all of his lectures to make me cookies, and then he kissed me!”

Virgil frowned. “Okay, that… doesn’t really sound like Patton. He’s more of the pine quietly type.”

Roman could relate.

“Yeah, and then Logan came over, and said that he was in love with me too!”

“Okay, that definitely doesn’t sound right.” Virgil chewed his lower lip nervously. “Do you think something happened to them? Like, did someone put a spell on them or something?”

“Maybe.” Roman ran his fingers through his hair. “No, that can’t be it. This thing has been happening all morning. Logan and Patton are just the only ones who actually talked to me. Here.”

Roman dug through his bag and pulled out the note he’d found earlier. He handed it to Virgil, who read over it.

“Wow, Princey, this is…”

“I know,” Roman groaned.

“This is really bad. ‘Your body is like a Greek statue’?”

“Can we focus on the magic part, Edgar Allen Woe?” Roman snapped.

“Right. Sorry.” Virgil looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well, Logan and Patton make their own food, so it couldn’t be that. And I doubt someone would be powerful enough to just cast a spell on the whole campus. Which means… Ah, crap.”

“What? What is it?”

“The spell must have been cast on you.”

“Someone cast a love spell on me?”

Love spells were forbidden magic. They stripped away the victim’s identity. Over time, they wouldn’t care about anything other than making the object of the affections happy. And they would do anything to make them happy.

Virgil nodded. “And now everyone who casts eyes on you falls in love with you. Or something.”

“Except for you,” Roman pointed out.

Virgil’s eyes slid to the side. “Right,” he said tightly. “Except for me.”

Roman shook his head. “So how do we stop this?”

Virgil grimaced. “Sorry, but I think this is where my help ends. Ordinarily, I’d say we ask Logan, but I think we’re on our own for this one.”

Roman considered. “We might not be.”

“What are you-? Oh, no, you have got to be kidding me.”

“I’m just saying, if we asked him to, he’d probably drop everything to come help.”

“So you want to use the spells effects to manipulate our friend?”

Okay, that did sound bad.

“Not when you say it like that! Look, Logan would want to help us, right?”

Virgil nodded warily.

“And it’s not like we’re only doing this for our benefit. He probably isn’t thrilled about being in love with me, either.”

Virgil snorted at that, but he still looked serious. “Spells that influence emotions are dangerous for a reason, Roman. People under them don’t act like they normally would. There’s no telling what Logan might do.”

“Oh, relax,” Roman said, already pulling out his phone to send a text. “It’s Logan. What’s the worst that can happen?”

***

Twenty minutes later, Logan was stood in the living room glaring daggers at Virgil, who looked like he was trying to shrink even further into his hoody, and Roman was strongly starting to regret his decision.

“I wasn’t aware he would be here,” Logan said at last.

“I live here,” Virgil snapped.

Roman grimaced. He recognised what Virgil was doing, going on the defensive. Turning prickly and lashing out at anyone because he expected everyone to hurt him. It was how he’d been when they first met. Roman had never wanted to see Virgil act like that again, and certainly not at Logan of all people.

“Okay,” Roman said, stepping between them. “Logan, we need your help with something.”

For a moment, Logan looked disappointed, and Roman pushed down a pang of guilt. This is for the best, he told himself.

“I see,” he said at last. “Well, I’m always happy to help you, Roman. What is it you need?”

Roman glanced at Virgil for support, who just sent him a look that said this was your idea.

“This is probably gonna sound crazy,” Roman said, “But we think someone cast a love spell on me.”

Logan was silent for a moment, before saying, “I see. It does not sound crazy, actually.”

“It doesn’t?” Roman asked.

That was a lot easier than Roman had expected.

“It makes a lot of sense, actually. You must have noticed Patton’s behaviour earlier.”

“Right,” Roman agreed eagerly. “That’s what I meant.”

“Well, it is a good thing you came to me. And it is a good thing I am not affected.”

Maybe not easier than expected. Roman exchanged a glance with Virgil.

“You think you aren’t affected?” Virgil echoed.

Logan rolled his eyes. “It’s simple. Love spells do not work on those already in love with the person the spell was cast on.”

“So you think your feelings for Roman are real?” Virgil sounded disbelieving.

Logan tilted his head. “Of course. Why wouldn’t they be?”

“Right,” Roman said slowly. “Well, do you think we can break it?”

“Certainly. Although with no further information, trying to do so by ourselves may take some time.”

“Are you talking hours, or…?”

“Weeks, more likely. Possibly even months.”

Roman groaned and threw his head back.

“So we’re doomed,” Virgil chimed in.

“Did I say that? No, because we are not doomed.”

“Look, L, I don’t know about you, but I really don’t think Roman can just go around with a love spell on him for months. What if something happens?”

“Of course he can’t. Which I why I am not suggesting that he does. Yes, trying to break the spell by ourselves could take months, but the caster of the spell could break it in seconds.”

“So we find whoever cast the spell, and get them break it,” Roman said, brightening now that they had a plan.

“Exactly,” Logan said.

Virgil shook his head. “Where would even start?”

“Ordinarily, I would suggest Roman tell us everyone who might mean him harm, and we work from there. But I do not think that will be necessary.”

Roman frowned. “It won’t?”

“No. I believe I know exactly who is to blame.” Logan stepped around Roman so that he was standing in front of Virgil, who tensed.

“Virgil,” Logan continued, “You do not appear to be affected by the spell.”

Virgil shot a panicked glance at Roman, who felt frozen in place.

“I guess not,” Virgil muttered, looking away from them both.

“Specs, what are you saying?” Roman asked.

“I would have thought it was apparent. I am accusing Virgil of casting the spell on you.”

Virgil eyes widened in panic. He turned to look directly at Roman. “Roman, I swear, that isn’t true.”

“Then perhaps you would care to explain your lack of response to the spell?” Logan asked.

Virgil scowled, and looked away.

Roman swallowed. Virgil was watching him desperately.

When he’d realised Virgil wasn’t affected, he’d been too relieved to wonder why.

It wouldn’t be the first time Virgil had used magic against him, but that had been a long time ago, and Roman had given as good as he’d got.

A year ago, Roman wouldn’t have hesitated to believe that Virgil could have done this. But that had been a different Virgil, the Virgil that had existed in Roman’s mind, because that was what Virgil had wanted him to see.

The real Virgil was the one who had stayed up late arguing about Disney movies with him so that Roman wouldn’t think about how he’d done on his exams. Was the one who had shrugged and muttered “whatever, Princey,” when Roman had asked if he wanted to get an apartment together, but had turned his head away so Roman wouldn’t see his smile. Was the one who fussed every time Roman used magic recklessly.

The real Virgil could be sharp, but never cruel. Even when he and Roman had been at each other’s throats, he would never have gone this far.

“Okay,” Roman said, “I believe you.”

Virgil let out a breath, and smiled uncertainly at Roman. Roman smiled back.

“You cannot be serious,” Logan argued. “He gives no evidence to prove his innocence, and yet you just believe him?”

“I know he wouldn’t do this,” Roman said firmly. “And so do you.”

Logan scowled, but didn’t deny it. “Well, then who else do you suggest is responsible? Can you think of someone who able to cast such a spell, that would do so as some kind of petty prank?”

There was a moment of silence, filled by three men coming to the same realisation.

“Remus.”

There was a pause, and then:

“Crap,” Virgil muttered.

#sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #prinxiety #fanfiction #My fic #put a spell on you

76 notes · View notes

elysia20 · 4 years ago

Text

UNFORGETTABLE - PART 4

Chapter 3

Hogwarts express - 12:34pm

Elle was happy.

She was back with her friends.

But the thought of her father and brother associating with he who must not be named, sent shivers down her spine.

It caused the hairs on her arm to rise.

It left her with an uneasy feeling in her lower belly.

She didn’t want to believe it. How could she?.

Theodore was her twin bother. He told her everything.

Her father on the other hand, told her nothing. He may not have been the nicest of men, but working for the dark lord wasn’t a possibility. Surely.

Deep in thought, she almost missed the small tap on the door of the compartment.

Looking towards the sliding door, she met eyes with the kind, old trolley lady.

Giving her a warm smile, she reached into her bag for her purse.

After collecting a few coins, she proceeded to make her request.

“Please may I have, 2 liquorice wands, a chocolate frog and some fizzing whizzbees?’ She spoke gently to the old witch.

The old woman turned to her with a smile on her face, presenting her with her treats.

“There you go dear, that will be 2 galleons” she hummed towards Elle.

Elle swiftly handed her the coins, muttered a quick ‘thank you’ and retreated back into her compartment, but not without the older witch making a comment.

“Such lovely manners, just like your mother’ the witch looked to her with a smile.

Elle couldn’t help but feel a tad of guilt as the older witch spoke.

Looking down onto her lap, she could feel the tears well in her eyes.

Careful to not alert the others, Elle shifted her gaze and proceeded to look out of the window.

Watching the green fields pass her by.

Trying to rid herself of her thoughts.

Anything concerning Elle’s mother was a soft spot.

Despite the older witch giving her a compliment, even likening her to her mother caused her pain.

Though she died 14 years ago, the wound was still fairly fresh.

Theodore had never felt like this.

Elle had asked him many times how he felt about mother.

He never really had a proper answer. Stating he didn’t even know her, so he couldn’t really be sad.

That was the one thing about Theo that really pissed Elle off.

The only thing about him that really made her tick.

The fact that he was never truly open with his emotions.

I guess that was the Slytherin within him.

After glancing out of the window for a reasonable amount of time, Elle glanced back towards her group.

Ron and Hermione were arguing over something mundane - as usual.

Harry though, seemed to be in a daydream.

Pulling him from his thoughts Elle spoke “Something on your mind H ?”

He looked towards her with a sheepish smile , “Everything’s great, do you have something on your mind?” “No, not really, just thought you looked like you were deep in thought” she uttered.

He just smiled towards her while shaking his head.

Elle and Harry always had a special relationship. Despite, Elles father being alive, she considered herself to be an orphan.

One of her parents may have been dead, but the other blatantly pretended that she didn’t exist.

Elle was an orphan.

Harry may not have had the best upbringing but at least the Dursley’s acknowledged his presence.

Something Elle used to long for from her father. Just a little bit of recognition.

When she first learned to fly a broom, she expected her father to be happy for her - he was a keen quidditch player in his day.

Instead he congratulated Theo with a bone-crushing hug, while only giving a weak smile to Elle.

By the age of 8 Elle knew not to expect anything from her father.

Even on the twins birthday, Theo would get more praise, more appreciation, more LOVE.

That was something that Harry and Elle could relate on, they never received love from their families.

When Elle met Harry back in first year, they knew they were going to be two peas in a pod.

From sharing answers in potions class, to defending each other from Malfoy and his gang of gits, they knew that they were destined to be friends.

Now four years later, that statement remained true. Despite Harry endangering their lives each year, Elle had grown to love the specky boy. He had always been true friend. He had never lied to her.

She hoped the same could be said for her brother. In a moment of madness Elle decided to question him. She couldn’t wait till they got to Hogwarts. She had to know now.

In a quick movement, Elle rose to her feet.

All three of her friends, quickly planted their gazes on her questioningly.

“Elle, where are you going?’ Hermione asked her kindly. Ron just stared, while forcing yet another chocolate frog past his lips.

“…Oh I have to speak to Theo about something, I think I put something in his trunk by accident’ she stuttered quickly. Harry narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously.

Elle was acting differently. He just knew it.

She hurriedly slid open the door and closed straight behind her.

She could see the trio looking at her cautiously but she didn’t care.

Briskly walking up the train corridor, narrowly missing people - the first years were acting crazy.

High on sugar, Elle presumed.

Approaching the Slytherin carriage, Elle placed her hand on the handle.

As she began to twist the handle, it wouldn’t budge.

She tried again.

She began to get flustered as she could see her peers around her, giving her strange looks.

As she was about to give up and go back to the trio, she heard a low silky voice mutter

“Do you need some help with that?’

As she turned around to see who owned the beautiful voice, she came face to face with the school heartthrob.

Cedric bloody Diggory.

Giving her a warm smile, he reached down to the handle, gave it a quick twist, and it opened straight away.

“Those Slytherins eh? They will do anything to keep people out of their compartment, including putting a charm on the door” he whispered with a smirk.

Elle giggled nervously.

Cedric looked down on her with a kind smile, “I’m Cedric”.

He stuck his hand out for her to shake, as a kind gesture.

Elle was staring at him.

She couldn’t help it. His smile could make butter melt.

He was beautiful.

Entranced by his beauty, Elle was still staring.

Cedric waved his hand across her face “Hello, is anyone home” he laughed.

Elle again laughed nervously.

“i’m Elle” she stuttered.

He chuckled “Well Elle, I guess I’ll be seeing your around then”

She giggled again.

‘What is wrong with you’ she scolded herself.

“I’ll make sure of it” he finished.

He gave her one last smile and then retreated to his compartment.

Turning back to face the Slytherin compartment, Elle took a deep breath and made her way inside.

She was immediately greeted with glares.

Glares of those who were angry that someone managed to open the door.

Glares because she was a Gryffindor.

Spotting Theo she mad her way up the corridor.

She was immediately bombarded with ‘hello’s’ from Pansy and Daphne.

After saying a quick hello, she turned to Theo.

“Theo” she spoke, “Can I talk to you”.

Glancing up at his sister, Theo went to stand up.

Malfoy placed a hand on his shoulder.

“He doesn’t want to talk to you blood traitor”. He hissed

Theo gave Malfoy a quick glance and forcefully removed his hand from his shoulder.

“Stop calling her a blood traitor you dick, she’s my sister, if she wants to talk, we’ll talk. It’s not like I need to ask you for permission” Theo muttered.

Malfoy just glared at them both.

Pulling Elle aside Theo began “What do you need to talk about? It must be quite severe considering you would never set foot in this carriage otherwise” he gave her a concerned look.

“ I just need to ask you something, I don’t believe it, but I just had to be sure” she whispered.

He looked towards her, the concern visible on his face.

“Did you have anything to do with what happened at the quidditch world cup?”. She muttered.

Theo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His own sister questioning him.

“No? What are you talking about?” He quickly responded.

Elle looked at him questioningly, ‘it’s just that Malfoy said…” she went on.

“Malfoy?” He stated. “When did Malfoy talk to you?” He whispered angrily.

“Just before I got on the train, he was antagonising me, so I insulted him, but he said that you were involved” she whispered back.

“Don’t listen to anything that dick has to say about me. He loves spreading rumours. He lives for it. Almost more than Pansy. Just know that whatever he says about me isn’t true. Okay?” He gave her a soft smile.

“Just try to keep your distance from him Elle.” he continued “he isn’t a good bloke, and I don’t want him picking on you because of your friends”. Said Theo, acting like a concerned big brother.

“Don’t worry T, being within breathing distance of that prick is even too much to handle, you don’t need to fret`’ Elle giggled.

Theo let out a chuckle.

He pulled her in for a quick hug and muttered “Is there anything else you want to talk about?” He glanced down at her.

She simply shook her head and they parted ways.

“See you later” Elle muttered.

Theo gave her a quick wave and she made her way back the other side of the carriage.

Before she could even reach the handle, she heard a shrill voice squeak.

“ Ellllllllllllllllllllllle!!!!!!!! Don’t leave yet we have so much to catch up on, I haven’t seen you ALL summer” Pansy was waving her back over the the compartment, with a huge smile plastered on her face.

“Let her go, her presence alone makes me ill. I will never know why you would want to associate with a blood traitor like that” she heard a voice say angrily.

It was Malfoy.

She then heard a loud slapping noise, as Malfoy yelped “You dick, what was that for?”.

“You insult my sister, You’re going to get a slap” she heard Theo boldly announce.

“Drakey, I like Elle, she’s sweet” spoke pansy sweetly.

Elle thought to herself. ‘Drakey’. Gross. She would never fully understand how someone could be so in love with someone like Draco Malfoy.

Of course Pansy wasn’t the nicest of girls but surely she had standards.

But then again, the boy was a billionaire. And pansy was a gold-digger.

She understood now.

Ignoring pansy, she turned back to the door handle, twisting it abruptly and made her way back towards her compartment.

Upon arriving, she noticed the trio were in their uniform.

They must be approaching Hogwarts soon, she thought to herself.

Sliding open the door, she was met with a handful of hellos, as she entered the compartment.

Reaching up to her bag, she pulled put her robes.

“How did everything go with Theo? Did you get what you were looking for” she questioned.

“Yes. Everything’s fine” she stated.

Hermione stared at her.

“…and I remembered that I left that thing I was looking for in my room at home” she stuttered.

“Oh how suspicious, what was ‘that thing you were looking for’ exactly?” Ron questioned, with a brow raised.

Without missing a beat Elle replied “Tampons”.

Ron gulped nervously. Harry looked at Elle awkwardly, not wanting anymore information.

Hermione let out a giggle but stifled it with the back of her hand.

‘You see, I’ve been having a really heavy flow lately and I needed to make sure I had my tampons” Elle continued, knowingly making the boys uncomfortable.

Harry proceeded to stand up and leave the compartment.

Ron shoved his fingers in his ears and screamed “…IF I CANT HEAR YOU, YOUR NOT SPEAKING”

Elle giggled to herself with Hermione cackling beside her. Ron still screaming.

Realising the time, Elle pulled herself out of laughter and made her way towards the bathroom.

As she went to push open the door, it was pulled open from the inside.

Yet again she found herself face to face with the chocolate orbs of Cedric Diggory.

“Nice to see you again, although I thought it would be happening a lot later”. He smiled.

Elle giggled nervously. Mentally facepalming.

Plucking up some courage Elle stuttered ‘Twice in one day Mr Diggory, I think this is becoming a regular thing”.

‘where did that come from’ she thought to herself.

‘Is that so?’ Smirking at Elle, he moved closer. ‘For my sake, I hope that’s true” He gave her a cheeky wink and then walked away.

Did THE Cedric Diggory just wink at her?

She watched him walk down the carriage.

Smirking to herself, Elle walked into the bathroom.

She looked slowly into the mirror, smiled and muttered.

‘This is going to be a fun year at Hogwarts”.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x oc #draco malfoy #cedric diggory #cedric diggory imagines

6 notes · View notes

waitineedaname · 5 years ago

Text

Mystery Next-Door

my @homestuckss gift for @culturalbloominggirl!! I heard “jaderose” and “small towns” and my brain screamed “CHILDHOOD FRIENDS” so here we are! I hope you like it, and happy holidays <3

also on ao3

Jade Harley was the mystery next-door.

She moved in on a crisp, cloudy November day with a multitude of overstuffed boxes, an older man with a moustache, and a large white dog.

Rose Lalonde was immediately fascinated.

Like any curious six year old, she asked her mother a million and one questions. Who were they? Would their dog eat Jaspers? Why does she live with her grandfather and not her parents?

Her mother, nursing a migraine, answered to the best of her ability. They're the Harleys, hun. I don't think their dog is going to eat Jaspers. I don't know why she lives with her grandpa. Why don't you go play with John and let mommy take a nap?

Rose put on her sneakers -- a point of pride that she could do it herself and John couldn't, even though they were the same age -- and left the house to give her mom some peace and quiet. She did not, however, turn in the direction of the Egbert house at the end of the block. Instead, she turned right and marched right up to the Harleys' front door.

With all the grown-up politeness she could muster, she rang their doorbell and waited. Behind the door, she heard a bright voice yell "I'll get it!" followed by the stomping of a child barreling down the stairs. In an instant, the door opened to reveal a young girl with a mess of dark hair and thick glasses.

"Hello," Rose said, attempting to put on the tone she heard her mother use when she had to be professional. "I'm Rose Lalonde. I live next-door."

The girl's mouth made a tiny "o" then split into a big grin. "Hi Rose! I'm Jade!"

Rose suddenly realized she had not planned this far ahead. "Um. Do you want to come out and play?"

"Yeah!" Jade's glee was evident. She turned to shout inside the house. "Grandpa! I'm going to play outside!"

"Bring Becquerel with you!" came her grandfather's answering shout. Jade giggled and stuck her fingers in her mouth to let out a sharp whistle. Rose blanched as she heard the clacking of claws as the large white dog she'd seen when they moved in came charging at Jade, bowling her to the ground. Jade shrieked with laughter, hugging the dog around its neck as he licked all over her face.

"Bec! No! Sit!" She laughed, eventually squirming out from underneath the dog. "Do you wanna pet him?" She asked, mistaking Rose's wide eyes for excitement instead of mild panic.

"...Does he bite?" Rose asked hesitantly.

"No! He's a very good boy. Right, Bec?" Bec let out a deafening bark in response.

Filled with too much pride and curiosity to back down now, Rose outstretched a hand towards Bec. He sniffed her curiously, then licked her palm, startling a laugh out of her. Rose satisfied herself with a few pets behind his ears, then stepped back.

"Come on." Rose said, gesturing for Jade to follow her. "I'll show you the creek."

The creek was a staple of Rose's childhood. She and John had discovered it just outside their neighborhood on one of their first excursions together. It was just removed enough to give them the giddy feeling of freedom that rowdy children crave, while still being within shouting distance of their parents. It had been their place for years, and from the moment Jade first visited it with Rose, it was her place too.

Jade was incorporated into their group immediately, morphing their duo into a trio with little fuss, and now that they were eight and all thick as thieves, it was hard to remember a time when she wasn't around.

The creek was the site of countless formative moments for the three of them. It was where Jade lost her first baby tooth. It was where John learned what poison ivy was. And it was where Rose realized her first crush.

It was a warm August evening, one of the few left of summer before they'd have to go back to school. Fireflies were lighting up the trees around them, and Jade had decided they should hunt for frogs.

Jade was far better at that kind of thing than John and Rose. Before her, most of their trips to the creek involved pretending to be wizards or Ghostbusters, balancing on the dryer rocks and pretending to blast each other with sticks. Jade was the one to introduce them to a brand new form of playtime found in collecting fireflies in their palms and chasing after lizards until they were out of breath and learning how to climb trees.

As expected, Jade managed to find twice as many frogs as them. Each pocket of her overalls gently cradled a frog, and her hands were slimy from all the ones she'd caught and let free. John had caught two, but they had both jumped out of his hands when he'd squealed with laughter at the cold feeling they left on his palms.

Rose had yet to catch a single one, and quite frankly, she was getting a little frustrated.

“I dunno Rose, I think they must just have something against you.” John teased when the fifth frog in three minutes hopped out of her reach. She sent him a glare, and he grinned at her, full of playful meanness built on a friendship formed in toddlerhood.

“How about I catch one for you?” Jade offered.

“I don’t need a pity frog.” Rose protested, but Jade was already splashing towards one of the banks of the creek. “Really, I don’t mind. Who am I to steal a hapless amphibian from his watery home? If he wants to continue his boring existence behind an algae-ridden rock, that’s his prerogative. In fact, I’m probably better off than you two because I’m not risking infecting my hands with a million frog diseases.”

“‘Bluh, I’m Rose and I read the thesaurus for fun and I think frogs are gross.’” John mimicked, pitching his voice up even though Rose was fairly certain his voice was already higher than hers. She huffed, and both John and Jade snickered. John plopped down in the mud on the side of the creek and started poking around for interesting rocks buried in the muck, and Rose contemplated joining him before Jade cried out in victory a few feet down.

“Got one!” Jade held her loosely clasped hands up and dashed back over to them as quickly as she could without slipping. “Okay, hold your hands like a little cup.” She instructed Rose.

Rose obliged, and Jade slid the frog into Rose’s waiting hands, quickly putting her own hands around Rose’s to guide her in closing her hands just enough to keep the frog from jumping out without crushing it in the process. Rose stared down at the creature peeking out between her thumbs, mystified. It wasn’t necessarily holding the frog that was getting to her, though the feeling of its rapid heartbeat against her palm was exciting. It was the realization that Jade had caught this frog specifically as a gift for her, and it was the feeling of Jade’s warm, dirt-covered hands wrapped around her own. It was looking up at Jade’s face and seeing her proud, buck-toothed grin, and it was the twigs that had inexplicably found their way into Jade’s curls, and it was the fireflies and dusk light painting flickering colors on Jade’s cheeks.

Rose’s heart leaped into her throat, and she suddenly found it harder to breathe.

In the exact same instant, the frog took advantage of her lapse in focus and took a leap of its own. The sudden movement startled Rose, and she yelped, stumbling backwards. Her foot skidded on the stone behind her, and she let out a sharp scream as she fell into the creekbed.

“Rose!” John and Jade shouted in unison, scrambling to help her up. They both took her by the upper arms and helped her to her feet, and she cried out in pain when the bruise rapidly forming on her hip made it hurt to stand. Her elbows were scraped from catching her fall, and the tears filling her eyes made her more pissed off than anything else. She wasn’t a little kid, she shouldn’t be crying about falling over anymore.

“I’ll get her mom!” John said, already sprinting in the direction of their houses, shouting, “Ms. Lalonde, Ms. Lalonde!”

“Do you want me to help you walk?” Jade offered gently. Rose sucked in a breath and willed the tears back into their ducts. She nodded and Jade wrapped her arm around Rose’s shoulders, guiding her out of the creek.

The bruise hurt like the dickens for the rest of the week, and her mother tsked when she saw the grime in her scrapes, but for a reason Rose couldn’t quite fathom, it was all made okay by Jade’s arm wrapped tight around her.

“I dunno Rosie, should I be worried about you goin’ to a sleepover with a boy?”

“Please, mother,” Rose rolled her eyes when she knew her mom couldn’t see them, emptying her backpack onto her bed, “It’s John. He doesn’t count.”

“Hm.” Her mother hummed a vague agreement from where she was leaning against Rose’s door frame. Rose knew her concerns about the sleepover were largely performative; she’d slept over at the Egbert house dozens of times before. “Isn’t that other boy going to be there? David or something?”

“Dave?” Rose scoffed, shoving pajamas into her bag. “As if I’d sink that low.”

“Aw, that’s mean.” She heard her mother sniff, and there was a beat of silence that Rose used to debate whether or not to bring any books. “I guess that just leaves Jade.”

Rose’s head snapped over to look at her for the first time in the conversation. She hadn’t mentioned her crush on Jade once in the four years she’d had it, and her mother hadn’t ever asked about it beyond superficial questions about whether she liked anyone at school. Despite that, there was inexplicably sharp look in her mother’s eyes, like she knew more than she was telling. She lifted her perfectly painted lips in a slight smile, then pushed herself upright off the door frame.

“Make sure to pack a toothbrush, okay sweetie?” She said, already halfway down the hall. Rose stared after her, speechless for a moment, then shook herself out of her stupor. She finished packing in a rush, and left with a farewell shout over her shoulder.

The walk to the Egbert house was one that Rose knew better than any other path, except perhaps the walk from her bedroom to the bathroom. She’d been playing at his house since before she could draw on a definite memory, and she and Jade had been sleeping over since their families had deemed them old enough. The only new player in their routine was Dave, who’d showed up at their middle school in sixth grade and immediately attached to John like glue, which of course meant getting attached to Rose and Jade in the process. The three of them were a package deal, and he was fortunate enough to be the right variety of awkwardly charming to fit right in.

Mr. Egbert was happy to host John’s friends, as always, and he was just as eager to embarrass him as well. As soon as they were all settled, he insisted on pulling out the photo albums under the excuse that it was Dave’s first time staying over, so he had to see them.

“Dad,” John complained, weakly trying to tug the photo album away from his father, “They don’t want to see that, come on. We’re just gonna go upstairs and watch movies, right guys?” He looked at his friends, hoping they’d back him up. He was immediately disappointed.

“I’d love to see baby pictures, thank you Mr. Egbert.” Rose said, smirking at John.

“Yeah, come on dude, Shrek can wait, I gotta catch a peep at these incriminatin’ pics.” Dave added immediately. “Who knows the next time I’ll get to see ‘em. Your whole house could burn down tomorrow, and I’d never have seen the dang things. I could spontaneously go blind in like three minutes and I’d be like ‘god, screw the Mona Lisa and sunsets, the thing I miss the most is being able to see my goober of a friend lookin’ even more like a goober because his brain was the size of a softball and he didn’t have the self awareness to know not to eat his own feet.’ All I’m saying, bro, is you gotta cherish your sight when you’ve still got it, y’feel me?”

“Oh! Mr. Egbert, you should show Dave that picture of John with the shaving cream!” Jade suggested helpfully.

“Yes, you absolutely should show me that one, oh my god, that was the best string of words you could possibly put together.” Dave was all but vibrating with restrained delight. John wailed dramatically and flopped backwards onto the couch.

“You’re all the worst. Sleepover cancelled, you can all go home. I hate you all.” He complained, face buried in his hands.

“We do this because we love you.” Rose said, patting his knee condescendingly. He slid his fingers off half of his glasses to glare at her. She considered laying the condescension on thicker, but she was interrupted by an outburst from Dave’s direction.

“Oh shi- shoot -- sorry Mr. E -- Rose, you’re in one of these.”

“What?” Rose squeezed in between Jade and Dave and discovered, to her horror, a picture of herself and John. Neither of them were any older than three, and they seemed to have raided each other’s dress-up chests. John was wearing an enormous grin and a tutu that Rose vaguely remembered her mother buying her when she was quite young, and Rose had donned a clip-on tie and was drowning in what she could only guess were Mr. Egbert’s shoes. She gaped in horror, and Dave laughed next to her.

“Dude, look at you! Rose Lalonde: Business Toddler.” Dave shoved her playfully, and Rose felt she suddenly understood Cain when she pushed him back hard enough to make him stumble.

"I think you look cute!" Jade said, peering over Rose's shoulder. Embarrassment blended with flattery to create a smoothie of confusion in Rose's brain.

"Are we done?" John complained, still doing his best to merge with the couch cushions. His dad chuckled and nodded, shutting the photo album and waving them off. That was all the encouragement John needed to jump to his feet and practically teleport up the stairs, his friends hot on his heels.

Their attempt to marathon Shrek was mostly an excuse to hang out, and it made a pleasant backdrop to whatever shenaniganry they wanted to get up to that evening, which ranged from breaking out the nail polish Rose had swiped from her mother's stash to a slightly ridiculous game of would-you-rather. The evening passed in a happy rush and before Rose knew it, the moon was high in the sky and they were all snuggled into their sleeping bags.

John was snoring gently, his hands stuck out of the sleeping bag because he'd been worried about smudging Rose's handiwork on his nails. Dave was the quietest any of them had ever heard him and still as a statue. Rose, however, couldn't get comfortable. She rolled and shifted and shoved her arm under her pillow and attempted to curl into a ball. No dice.

She was beginning to consider abandoning her sleeping bag to sleep in John's bed and deal with his bitching in the morning, but Jade's sleepy whisper stopped her.

"Rose?" She mumbled. Rose went still. "Are you still awake?"

"Unfortunately." Rose muttered back. "Sorry if I woke you."

"Mn, it's okay. I wasn't asleep." The grogginess in her voice made Rose suspect she might be lying, but she didn't call her on it. There was shuffling from Jade's direction, and Rose looked up to see Jade crawling out of her bag and grabbing her glasses. "Do you wanna go get some water?"

"...Sure." It wasn't like she was having any success languishing in her sleeping bag. Rose wiggled free of her plasticky cocoon, and the two padded out of the room as quietly as they could manage.

No matter how familiar the house was, Rose found that it always seemed different when all the lights were off and everyone was asleep. Not eerie like her ostentatiously decorated house or Jade's drafty old home -- she doubted the Egbert house could seem anything but homey -- but still strange, like she'd stepped into another dimension just by being up at an odd hour.

They filled up their glasses with water -- Jade laughing when Rose accidentally closed the cabinets loudly and grimaced -- and then Jade was tugging her towards the door.

"Come on. Let's look at the stars!" How could Rose say no to a request like that? Jade chose a spot in the grass with an amusing level of concentration, and she tugged Rose down to sit with her. Rose tried to give her a respectable amount of personal space, but Jade squished against her side immediately. Rose prayed the dim light from the moon hid her blush, but Jade wasn't paying attention, eyes on the sky.

"How much do you know about astronomy?" Jade asked, tone serious despite the contentedness on her face.

"I know the basics of what we learned in science class, and the names of a few constellations. Ursa major and minor, Orion, Sagittarius…" Rose trailed off. "I'm afraid I don't know where they are in the sky, though."

Jade hummed and tucked her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on her Squiddles-patterned pants and smiling up at the sky. "Grandpa bought me an astronomy book for kids for my sixth birthday. I read it all in one day and then insisted we go to the library so I could check out as many books about it as possible. I ended up reading books as big as I was," she said with a laugh. Rose snorted. She could imagine it so clearly: tiny little Jade, nose buried in a book about astrophysics.

"Well?" Rose challenged. "Share your knowledge, o scholar of the cosmos."

Jade giggled and studied the sky for a moment. She pointed first at a string of stars low in the sky. "That's Orion. You can tell by the three stars there, see? That's his belt. And over there is Monoceros, the unicorn."

Rose squinted in the direction Jade's finger pointed, but she couldn't see much other than Orion's belt. "How did the ancient Greeks come up with these names? A unicorn seems like something of a stretch."

Jade shrugged. "I don't know. It must have held some kind of meaning to them." She lifted her chin off her knees and instead laid her head on Rose's shoulder. "I think it's kind of amazing, really. I mean, they are just stars, billions of miles apart, but they looked into the sky and found something important to them. Don't you think that's beautiful?"

Rose took great care in keeping her breath even and not flinching away from how close Jade was. She pretended she was talking about the stars above her and not the ones she spied reflecting off Jade's glasses when she murmured, "Yes, very beautiful."

The soft smile that great on Jade's face made her suspect that maybe she knew what Rose meant anyway.

When they finally climbed the stairs back to the bedroom and whispered their goodnights, Rose fell asleep with stars under her eyelids.

Jade was the girl next-door, and Rose was hopelessly in love with her. It was a horrible cliche, and Rose had long since gone through all the stages of grief upon realizing she’d fallen into the cheesiest romantic trope fathomable. She’d been in the acceptance stage for a long time, if “acceptance” were synonymous with “resigning oneself to pining for years.” But dammit, Rose was sick of pining, and she was sick of trying to hide her crush. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed advice.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. Eight goddamn years?”

Maybe she should’ve gone to someone else for advice.

“You promised you wouldn’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing.” Dave said, as if his shiteating grin weren’t just as bad. “God, I just need to savor this moment. You always tried to act like I was the mess in our group, but the whole time it’s been you.”

“Oh please, do not act like you aren’t guilty of your own pining.”

“Nuh-uh, nope, we’re not bringing this back around to me. We’re focusing on you bein’ a fucking disaster. Oh my god, you’re a disaster lesbian, how am I just now realizing this.” He leaned on the steering wheel of his car, holding back giggles.

Rose picked up a fry from the center console and hit his forehead with deadly accuracy. “If you continue to mock me without any attempt to help, I swear to every unholy deity ever fathomed by the human mind, I will dump this milkshake on your lap and send a picture to Karkat.”

“What? No, come on, that’s such an overreaction.” He said, leaning out of reach.

“There’s no such thing as an overreaction to you breaking the rules of our Burger King sessions.”

“Our Burger King sess- Bro, what? There have never been any fucking rules. These fast food seshes started ‘cause you got a goddamn coupon and I’m the only chump you know with a car. They just turned into a warped form of cheap therapy because you’re you. I don’t have to solve this.”

Rose took the lid off her milkshake.

“Okay, jesus, I’ll help.” Dave tucked his legs up and leaned even further away.

“Thank you. How gentlemanly.” She calmly slid the lid back on her shake and took a sip from it.

“Yeah, you know me, all kinds of fuckin’ chivalrous. Always opening doors and helping blind ladies cross the street and giving disaster lesbians tips on how to deal with a crush they’ve had for almost a literal decade because clearly I’m the guy that can give advice on how to ask girls out even though I’ve literally never had a girlfriend, like what the hell’s up with that-”

“Dave.”

“Right, got it.” He sobered out of his ramble and grabbed a fistful of fries to eat while he thought. “What exactly are you askin’ me for?”

“Please, Strider. Use your brain. I know that might be a tall order considering the likelihood that it has lain dormant and collecting dust since the last time you used it for anything other than video games and inane comics, but even you must have some modicum of sense buried within your subconscious.”

“Yeah, you’re doing a real great job making me want to help.” She could tell he was rolling his eyes behind his shades, and it took all her willpower not to throw another fry at him. “Look, I say just tell her. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“She could look me dead in the eyes and tell me she hates me with every fiber of her being. She has simply been pretending to like me for the past several years, but unfortunately, she finds my personality draining. In fact, spending any prolonged amount of time with me makes her feel like her soul is developing necrosis, and she has already filed a restraining order. I resign myself to packing my bags and moving to the coldest corner of Alaska to live out the rest of my days in complete isolation, feasting on the flesh of moose who, similarly, I destroy from the inside out by simply existing in close proximity with them.” Rose answered immediately. Dave stared at her blankly.

“That was insane. You do realize how fucking batshit you sound right now, right? Jesus christ, Rose, she’s not going to hate you, she’s Jade. I know you’re like physically incapable of doing so, but take the melodrama down a notch for a second, okay?”

“You asked for the worst.”

“Yeah, and I was expecting shit like ‘rejection,’ but that was way too specific for you to have not thought that exact line of thought before, which, quite frankly, is terrifying.”

Rose shrugged. “It’s not my fault you didn’t know what you were asking for. Really, you should have expected as much.”

“I guess I should’ve, huh. Fucking hell.” He shook his head tiredly and pushed his shades up to rub his eyes. "Alright, I'll tell you what the worst case scenario is. Like you're playin' a dating sim and you've been fucking ruling at this game so far, but then you say one wrong thing and get the bad ending, that's what we're going for. Bad ending in this situation is she just says she doesn't like you like that. It'll probably be awkward for a while, but y'all are best friends, it'll smooth over. And if you don't tell her, you'll just be stuck like this, hoping something'll change even though nothing will. You'll never know what would've happened if you had just gone for it, and I know you, Rose. I know you don't like not knowing shit."

"And how do you suggest I go about this?" She said. What he said made sense, but she wasn't going to let him know that.

“Hell if I know. That’s the extent of my wisdom, take it or leave it.” He shrugged. “Just talk to her, dude. Y’all talk all the time. I’m pretty sure you’ll find a way to bring it up.”

It wasn’t as easy as Dave made it out to be. Maybe if she were someone else, she could just go through with it, but she was Rose Lalonde. It was in her nature to spiral at least three times before arriving at a more convoluted solution.

It was a painful month of pointed looks from Dave before she finally struck up the courage to do something about the feelings she’d be storing tight in her chest for so long. Honestly, what was a measly month compared to the eight years that had already passed?

The day was the special kind of sunny that followed a rainstorm, and Rose found herself wishing she still had the confidence of a six year old as she marched up to the Harleys’ front door. The doorbell’s chime echoed inside the house, and the door opened to reveal a familiar face, though not the one she’d expected.

“Ah! The young Miss Lalonde.” Jade’s grandfather smiled, jolly and charming as ever.

“Hello, Mr. Harley. I was hoping to see Jade.”

“She’s in the garden.” He waved her inside, and she followed him through the winding house. “I thought you kids -- what’s the word -- instant messaged about these things. What with your newfangled cell devices.”

Rose had to bite her tongue to keep herself from calling him out for pretending to be less knowledgeable than he was -- she knew he used to run a technology company, he wasn’t fooling anyone -- but now wasn’t the time. “I wanted to surprise her. What’s the point of living next-door to your best friend if you can’t show up unannounced to disrupt her plans?”

That earned her a hearty guffaw. “Well, who am I to step in between such gestures of best friendship.” His eyes twinkled knowingly. “My little Jadelet talks about you all the time, you know.”

“Does she now.” Rose said, carefully neutral.

“Oh, yes. You should have heard the girl when she was little. It was ‘Rose, Rose, Rose’ all the time.” He winked, then opened the back door for her. “She’s out there.”

Rose thanked him awkwardly, then made her way to the garden. Jade was in the middle of her plot of absolutely mammoth sunflowers, deadheading and inspecting them with a look of concentration on her face. The moment she saw Rose, though, a huge grin broke out on her face.

“Rose!” Jade ran over to her, and Rose was relieved she’d put down the pruning shears before grabbing her in a tight hug.

“Hello Jade.” Rose hugged her back and resisted the urge to bury her face in Jade’s hair and just stay there. “Sorry for coming over without warning.”

“No, it’s okay! I’m almost done gardening anyway. I was planting some bulbs for spring.” She said, guiding Rose over to an empty portion of the massive garden and gesturing to the freshly turned over earth. “We should have some pretty daffodils once March rolls around.”

“Well, I hope you’re not completely done gardening.” Now or never, Lalonde. “I brought something for you.”

Jade’s bright eyes were suddenly focused on her like lasers as Rose pulled out a handful of seed packets from her pocket. “Oh! For me?”

“Yes, well, I saw these and knew you were planning to expand your garden.” She said as though it had been a spur of the moment decision, not the result of meticulous research.

“Ooh, I love peonies! And carnations…” Jade looked at the packets and giggled when she saw the packet of rose seeds. “Rose, you didn’t get this one just because it’s your name, right?”

“Lies and slander. I’ll have you know I put a lot of thought and consideration into selecting these flowers. If one just so happens to be my namesake, it is purely coincidental.”

“Uh-huh.” Jade laughed. “I guess I should just be glad you didn’t get me a jade plant or something.”

“The thought did cross my mind.” Rose said, lips quirking when Jade snorted. “No, I really did put some thought into this. How much do you know about plant meanings?”

“A little! Why? Are you getting into plant meanings?” Jade asked curiously.

“Weren’t you and John the ones who said I needed a new hobby?”

“Well, I guess this is an improvement from trying to summon demons in the band room.” Jade teased.

“It would not have been the first demon that school has seen.” That made Jade snicker, and Rose took the moment to take the seed packets back. “According to ancient Greek folklore, peonies represent compassion. Carnations symbolize love. And roses, as many know, are for romance.”

Rose refused to look up at Jade while she spoke, instead pretending to inspect the planting instructions on the back of the peony packet. Jade was silent beside her, then slowly took the seed packets from Rose’s hands. “And… you’re giving them to me? With the meanings in mind?”

“I also had your garden in mind. I know you’ve been aiming to plant more flowers around the perimeter, and-” Rose deflected, but she was cut off by a sudden kiss on her cheek. Her eyes were the size of dinner plates when she turned to stare at Jade. Jade’s grin was a mile wide.

“This was a really sweet gift, thank you, Rose.”

“Yes. Well.” Rose’s brain was short circuiting. Jade laughed softly and took Rose’s hand.

“I, uh. I kind of suspected you liked me? But I never knew for sure, so I was just gonna wait until you made it clear.” She squeezed Rose’s hand. “I’ve liked you for a really long time, you know, but I didn’t want to mess things up!”

“You have no idea how much I understand that.” Rose breathed out a sigh of relief. “Jade Harley, my friend of ten years, crush of eight, would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

“I would love that.” Jade grinned, then blinked as what she said registered. “Wait, how long?”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s plant these peonies.”

Jade was the girl next-door, no longer a mystery, but Rose was just as enamored as she had been that very first day.

#homestuckss #hsss2019 #culturalbloominggirl #rose lalonde #jade harley #jaderose #john egbert #dave strider #3/4 of the guardians too #homestuck #okay to reblog #my writing #I've never really written jade before so!! I hope this works lksjdlksjf

75 notes · View notes

buckyownsmyheart · 5 years ago

Text

Duty [1/12]

CHAPTER 1: Reaching an Understanding

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: None! Maybe baby swear words

Series Summary: Ex-army doctor, and now on-mission-for-the-Avengers doctor, Major (Y/n) (Y/l/n), had prepared herself for anything. That was, of course, until she met a devastatingly charming Sergeant from Brooklyn with a quick wit and a kind smile. I wonder what will happen.

Series Masterlist

Prologue

The next day, things in the briefing room were a little tense. A feeling of unease spread through you as you walked into the room, trying to ignore the subdued murmurs and eyes tracking your movements from agents, healthcare professionals and Avengers alike. You steeled yourself against their gazes, daring anyone to question your integrity before Nick Fury quietened the chatter from beside you.

“Some of you have already met your new on-mission doctor, Major (Y/n) (Y/l/n), and those who haven’t will have heard about her. She will be helping us keep healthy from now on. There will still be the same team here in the medical bay, but she’s the needed add-on. Any questions?”

Before anyone had the chance to form a thought that might lead to a question, he continued. “Alright, dismissed. Avengers I need you to remain behind for further briefing and report clarification.” There is a jostling and scraping of chairs as the agents leave the room. 17 gives you a wink on their way out before the room becomes quiet once more.

Fury eyed the room. “Your recent infiltration into the HYDRA camp was successful in giving us insight into their new project, but that’s as far as the success goes. I don’t want a fuck up like this again.” He distributed updated files around the table, and you took the closest seat, next to Black Widow. Looking down at the classified file, you weren’t sure you were meant to be reading this but opened it anyway, your curiosity beating your wish to abide by any rules. And you read.

********

S.H.I.E.L.D CLASSIFIED

PROJECT: MOONSHINE, (accessory to HYDRA), 05 SEPT 2019

Named after the technically legal, but often lethal, home-brewed alcohol, HYDRA have created a facility now known to be located within the EUREKA RESEARCH FACILITY in ELLESMERE ISLAND, 79°59′20″N 085°56′27″W. The base, previously owned by the Canadians before HYDRA took over, is secluded and only reachable by jet, with food, fuel and other supplies brought every 6 months.

Recent information has shown their proceedings, including images [see page 3 through 5] of their testing on human subjects, in an attempt to produce the same effect as the serum, successfully trialled on Steven G. Rogers, but by forms of mutilation and pain endurance, as recreating the serum, as shown on James B. Barnes, was deemed unsuccessful in producing the desired effect.

The methods include electrotherapy, fire exposure, exhaustion and debilitation techniques. These hope to push the cells within the body to mutate themselves to survive the conditions.

TOP SECRET SPECIAL HANDLING ONLY

********

You looked up to Fury, reeling a little from the information. You shifted in your seat as it felt too hard and your feet placed uncomfortably on the floor. You hadn’t reached the pictures yet but had a good enough guess as to what they contained.

“We’re working with the Secret Intelligence Service, or MI-6, on this.” Fury reported and looked to you as he said it, “They’re working with our team to find out more. Until then we can only wait. Major, you’re dismissed.”

You stood up, maybe a little too quickly, and walked out the door before you were given any more files. You walked to your quarters and flopped onto the bed. Rubbing the heels of your palms into your eyes to try to try and rid them of tiredness, and make your brain deal with the new information. There had always been people capable of causing such pain, but the thought of people intentionally inflicting that sort of torture on many people was enough to make your stomach turn, and you considered yourself to have a pretty strong stomach. In an attempt to distract yourself, you decided to head down to the medical bay, trying to familiarise yourself with your new surroundings and try and lessen the stares people had given you being the new girl. You rolled out of bed, not daring to look in the mirror and walked back out of your room.

Two flights of stairs and several corridors filled with loud colourful art later, you found the bay. The set up was much like a normal hospital ER, with a bleak looking desk at the front. Someone was scribbling frantically behind it, the bags under her eyes indicating their understaffing and overworking, a permanent feature of any healthcare professional, apparently even if they worked for billionaires. She looked up as you approached and gently returned the smile you gave her.

“Hi Major, what can I help you with?” Her voice carried a slight roughness to it, but not in an unpleasant way. It was an oddly comforting husk that made you feel like she would have perfect control of any situation that arose.

“Hi Angie,” you smiled, reading her name badge. “I wanted to get acquainted with everything, see what’s what and how you guys run things. I’d love to help out as much as possible.”

“Would you meet the people who run the show?” she drummed her fingers on top of the now closed folder, “Dr Cho is currently with someone, but I can find some of the team?"

Before you could answer, her eyes flickered to something behind you, causing you to turn and see what she was looking at. Your eyes met with piercing blue ones and you couldn’t help but give a sigh.

“Hey Doc,” Bucky Barnes grinned sheepishly, “Been given orders to have my arm re-looked at, would you be able to help?”

Narrowing your eyes at him you turned back to Angie to ask for her opinion, but she was already holding out a file that had a printed ‘James B. Barnes’ on the top.

“Room 4 is empty,” Angie gesturing to a room with the same unbothered air as she busied herself with other tasks, but you thought you could see the trace of a smile. You realised you weren’t going to get any more help on this one, and so opened his file, pretending it had something to do with his current injury. In reality it was a record of his previous injuries, and had zero relevance at the moment, but it kept your hands busy and felt it made you look important and not like you would rather be anywhere else but stuck in a room with him. You made the short walk into room 4, not looking to see if he had followed you, and sat in the chair in front of the computer. When you had fortified your composure, you turned to him. He was sitting on the bed, idly playing with sheet covering it, and now seeing his open face and off-guard composure, there was no ignoring how good-looking he was. He had changed from his tactical gear into a plain red Henley that stretched over his chest, and you could see the strain of the trousers he wore, their blue bringing out his eyes in a way that should be illegal. You averted your eyes and coughed a little, trying to rid the frog that had managed to wind its way into your throat.

He interrupted your train of thoughts, “I’m sorry for yesterday.” You looked back at him with surprise, not expecting an apology. “I was rude to you and I didn’t give you a chance before immediately dismissing you.” He didn’t break eye contact, and in an attempt to distract yourself from the unusual things your stomach was doing, you tried to drop your rigid glare into something you hoped was more comforting and busied yourself washing your hands.

“It’s alright. I’ve been underestimated my whole life; I’ve now learnt not to take it personally.” You looked up and met his gaze. “C’mon Sergeant, let me see how much I hashed up that arm,” you saw his shoulders drop a few inches. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all, you knew you had a tendency to be a little defensive at times. After peeling the bandage back, you couldn’t help but murmur a few exclamations as all you saw was faint pink section of skin. A small yellowing scab and peeling of the skin around the edges were the only indicators of any injury.

“Perhaps you’re a better doctor than you think,” Bucky said, giving a small laugh. A small smile wormed its way onto your face.

“Mind if I poke around it a bit?” You glanced up at Bucky, “Why did they even send you down here? It’s healed perfectly.”

“Not at all, all yours.”

You worked your fingers around the edges of the wound, massaging the skin and seeing it whiten and then pink, showing signs of healthy tissue and vessels. You felt Bucky’s eyes on you, but had to resist the temptation to look up, otherwise you might fall right into them.

“It’s amazing,” you confessed to him, “I can still feel the dissolvable stitches I put in there but everything else has healed completely. You would expect this sort of recovery within 12 weeks, not 14 hours.”

“I’ve never seen it heal as fast as this," He motioned to his arm. "Steve and I would have been a little less uptight at the whole situation if we knew.”

He nodded to the desk, where you had placed his file.

“All the information on my healing and other enhancements,” he said, his tone had hardened slightly, “Are all in there,”

“Oh, the doctors here have already tested you for this sort of thing?”

“Not the doctors here.”

You looked up at him and your face fell with realisation, of course HYDRA had kept records on him. Sympathy and pity gripped your heart, and you felt your cheeks heat up.

He snapped at you suddenly, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m not broken, and I don’t need your pity.” You knew he wasn’t pissed off at you, he was pissed at the situation, but doesn’t mean his words didn’t sting you a little bit. Bucky yanked down his sleeve and stood up quickly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.” You reached over and gathered the bandage from the bed next to where he had been sitting, “I don’t think you’re broken. You’re healing, there’s a difference.” You looked into his eyes, trying to convey the sincerity you felt with those words. When he didn’t move, you offered a truce, “Let me take out a few of those stitches on top. It might be a bit more comfortable for you.” He nodded and silently took one of the spare chairs. He did have the grace to look a little ashamed at his outburst, but you figured asking for a second apology in 10 minutes would be a bit too much.

You were quiet as you cut the offending sutures, and when you were done, Bucky pulled down his sleeve and spoke, his voice soft, “Umm, you uh-, you figured out how to use Stark’s coffee machines yet?”

“Not yet,” you laughed, “Haven’t been brave enough if I’m honest. Never seen so many damn buttons on a machine in my life!”

He gave you a small chuckle, “How about I show you? To make up for being an ass. Today and yesterday. I know all doctors and soldiers have a sweet spot for coffee.”

You smiled, he was trying to make amends and you appreciated that. “Lead the way, Sarge.”

“You press this button, and then the water should come through this part, and you get your regular filter coffee. Tastes exactly like it did in the 40s, better even,” Bucky said as he pressed the button. Steaming hot air jetted out of one of the pipes on the side, singeing a hole in Bucky’s shirt and exposing the glint of his metal arm as he swore profusely at the machine, and then at his shirt for good measure. It had become apparent in the past 30 minutes that as much as Bucky claimed to be able to work the coffee machine, he actually had as much of an idea as you, potentially even less.

“Looks like it’s going really well for you Terminator,” Sam Wilson entered the kitchen, and as he caught sight of you, he smiled and extended out a hand. “Hi, we sort of met in the quinjet, but I’m Sam.”

You took it, “(Y/n), nice to meet you. You don’t by any chance know how to work this machine? Half-robot over here is about to blow something up.”

Sam laughed and wandered over to where you were stood, pressed a few buttons on the side, and coffee started dripping into the jug. He turned to you and quipped, “You’re really trusting old-man over here with showing you something technological? For someone quite intelligent, you don’t seem very smart.”

You leaned back and laughed at his comment, Bucky however, looked put-out.

He glared over at him, “What do you want, Wilson?”

“Steve is looking for you down in the boxing ring, says he’s ready to kick your ass again.”

You looked at Bucky, “Steve beats you in a fight?” Then grinned over at Sam as annoyance crossed Bucky’s face.

“Not today he won’t,” Bucky grumbled as he trudged away from the coffee machine, muttering incoherently except for a few words that I’m not sure Steve would appreciate hearing.

As you enjoyed the bitter and warm smell of fresh coffee, Dr Bruce Banner walked into the kitchen and gave you a warming smile. He too pressed a few buttons on the machine, and a green froth fell into his mug.

“It’s so good to have an actual medical doctor on the team, they all kept coming to me on the battlefield,” he gestured around him, as if the Avengers were all there, “With life-threatening injuries! Expecting me to patch them up and send them on their way! I only dealt with tropical diseases in India! It was an entirely different thing!”

Sam turned to him, “You’re meant to be a genius Banner, what’s the use of your 7 PhDs if you can’t do anything useful with them?”

You laughed at the interaction, “It’s a pleasure to be on the team, happy to help in any way I can.” You paused, contemplating your next words carefully. “This might be a bit invasive, but what’s the deal with Sergeant Barnes? Is he normally this grumpy?”

Sam looked up at you, but it was Bruce who answered. “He’s still getting used to being able to be the good guy. I think he feels he doesn’t deserve it and so lashes out before anyone else can push him away first. He doesn’t like letting people in. Took Sam a bit of time to figure that out too.”

Sam laughed softly, “He’s the biggest damn grump I’ve ever met, but underneath he’s also a softie and an idiot. Give him time, he’ll be more bearable.”

You just nodded, pondering what they had both said. It made sense, he was still decompressing and figuring things out, maybe you could let him off the hook for being such an ass. You stayed in the kitchen for an hour or so with Sam and Bruce, getting the inside knowledge on the Avengers, the ins-and-outs of the compound and where to find the best bagels nearby. If you were wondering, it’s the deli on the right as you exit the compound.

“Right,” You turned to the two men, “I've been avoiding my unpacking, so I should probably get going, but it was lovely meeting you both properly, and thanks for all the information, I reckon I’ve got enough to blackmail the whole team now.” You said with a wink before walking out the door, waving over your shoulder.

In your room, your bags stared at you, lying on the floor, daring you to open them. You stared right back at them. You had been caught in this gridlock for the past 10 minutes and couldn’t quite find it in yourself to begin the task. You reprimanded your lack of motivation, and you had just managed to open your bag and sat on the floor, trying to organise some of your junk. You looked at the photos you had brought along, and they made your insides smile. There were some of you and your brother, the rest of your family, and some of your old army section and other friends. You felt a twist of guilt as you realised you hadn’t rung them yet to let them know you had arrived. Your brother, being a hacker, probably could find out that information if he was really concerned, but you felt bad if it got to that.

After a quick text letting them know you were safe and happy and that you would ring them later, you found yourself being drawn to your gym clothes. Maybe you should be checking out all the facilities that the compound had to offer. It would seem rude not to. Not because a certain someone who had captured your attention was probably still down there, sweating a little and most likely looking quite good. Not at all. You would never. Trying to move your thoughts away before they became slightly perverted, you pulled on some kit, letting your dog tags hang out in the open, clattering on your chest as you made your way down.

The gym was pretty standard, with weights and machines in one corner, cardio down the far wall, and free space with various mats and equipment dotted around. What drew you was the small boxing ring and punching bags dangling from the ceiling in the opposite corner. Unfortunately, no sign of Bucky. Not that he was the sole reason you were down here. You began to wrap your hands and after a quick warm-up you started jabbing at the bag, getting a feel for it again, before tightening your muscles and pushing yourself a bit harder.

“Not sure the bag is good enough for you Major,” Bucky spoke from behind you, appearing out of nowhere and making you jump, “think you might need a more challenging opponent.”

You let up on the bag, steadying it with one hand, “You offering yourself up, Sergeant? Is Steve that much better than you that you’re going to sink to my level?”

“Not sure the bag would agree with that statement, you were giving it a harder time than Steve and I put together,” He provoked, patting the bag with a pretend sympathetic gesture. “I would like to think I could put up a better fight than the bag though.”

Steve rounded the corner, from what you assumed was the changing rooms, and addressed Bucky. “I’ve seen her file Buck, let’s just say she would have had you nose-deep in mud in the 40s. And I’m not going to be putting my money on you today.” You grinned at Steve.

“Alright, it’s on.” You paused, straightening up and chucking him a pair of gloves from a nearby bench, “Don’t think I’m going to go easy on you just because you’ve got a pretty face.” And with that, you parted the ropes and jumped into the ring.

Chapter 2

tags:

@broco8 @nerd-without-a-cause @sebbbystaaan @mcubuckyandsteve @cutepiemimi13 @velvetwonderbucky

(strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you!)

#duty #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #b.b fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic

70 notes · View notes

legendofzeldaalinktothepast · 4 years ago

Text

Pathetic, Clinging Poetry - Chapter 13 (of 25)

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

I wonder if I'm doing this right. Are my kisses too long, my words too strong, My grip on your hand too tight? I feel so silly when you're near; I laugh too hard, blush too red, And scoff at all of my fears.

Rain pattered against the roof of the house, and a flash of lightning lit up the grey evening sky. Pearl tightened her grip on Amethyst's hand, bracing herself for the roar of thunder that would soon follow, yet she still flinched when it came. Amethyst turned her gaze up towards Pearl, looking a bit concerned. "You alright?" she asked.

"Just not a fan of thunder..." Pearl sighed, feeling somewhat silly about her irrational fear.

"Poor girlie." Amethyst said, gently rubbing Pearl's back in an attempt to comfort her. "Is this okay?"

"Mhm." Pearl slipped her arm around Amethyst's waist, adjusting her position just slightly so she could lean more comfortably against her shoulder. She turned her gaze back towards the TV, trying her best to focus more on the animal documentary they were watching and less on the storm roaring outside. "I hope Jasper's driving safely..."

"She's driven on the highway in the middle of a blizzard." Amethyst said. "She can handle a little rain, I promise."

"I suppose." Pearl twirled a strand of Amethyst's hair around her finger. It wasn't like she was late or anything, and she knew Jasper was a safe driver... But worrying was what she did best, as Peony had always told her.

'Speak of the devil.' Amethyst thought as she heard footsteps on the porch. With a groan, she sat upright and pulled her hand away from Pearl's lower back -- but not before giving her a peck on the cheek -- and leaned away from Pearl's side of the couch. Pearl tried her best to hide her disappointment, but she understood why it had to be done; not because they feared Jasper's reaction, but because the ambiguous state of their relationship wasn't a conversation they were ready to have with her just yet. Hell, they weren't even ready to have it with each other.

"Sup, butthead." Amethyst greeted as Jasper stepped into the entry room. Pearl rolled her eyes; even though Amethyst and Jasper had been talking more over the past few days, and most of those conversations had been relatively civil, the semi-affectionate, semi-rude name-calling still wasn't sitting right with her. 'At least Jasper doesn't seem too bothered by it.' Pearl remarked, noting the tired but unaffected expression on Jasper's face.

"How was work?" Pearl asked, hoping to set a positive example for Amethyst.

"Didja cut any people open?" Amethyst asked. If she was sitting any closer, Pearl would have jabbed her with her elbow. 'Her mouth really needs a filter...'

"Nah, not today. Mostly just talked with patients and shit like that." Jasper said. She dried her boots off on the doormat before unlacing them, lazily tossing them onto the shoe rack.

"Aww, lame." Amethyst teased.

Jasper shrugged, running her fingers through her hair as she made her way towards the kitchen. "That's what it's like having a job. Most of the time it's lame." she said. Pearl could tell she was biting back the urge to make a jab at Amethyst not having one.

As soon as Jasper was no longer in sight, Amethyst leaned back against Pearl's shoulder again. "Ughh, I was dying over there. Pierogi withdrawal..." Amethyst whined.

Pearl giggled and cautiously wrapped her arm around Amethyst's shoulders. "Drama queen." she teased. Feeling daring, she pressed a gentle kiss to Amethyst's forehead.

"You're the drama queen." Amethyst whispered back, pecking Pearl on the cheek.

"What's this?" Jasper called from the kitchen, and Pearl instinctively shoved Amethyst away, bonking her nose in the process.

"What's what?" Pearl called back, whispering an apology to Amethyst as she rubbed her nose.

"This paper I found on the table." Jasper said, entering the living room with the coloring page in her hand.

Pearl turned her gaze towards Jasper, her smile fading just a hint once she saw what she was holding. "Oh! That's just a coloring page I got from one of the kids at the library, heh..."

"Oh, I know that; I'm taking about what's on the back." Jasper said, turning the paper towards Pearl.

"Oh! Um..." Pearl nervously wrung her hands. "We just got invited to a little get-together with one of my friends, that's all!"

"Who's we?"

Pearl bit her tongue; even with all of the lying practice she got back when she lived with her mother, she still struggled to do it when Jasper was involved. She turned to Amethyst for support, but the latter simply shook her head. Pearl turned her gaze back to Jasper; oh boy, this probably seemed suspicious. "W-well, initially was just me -- but she said I could bring along friends if I wanted to! Friends in plural, so you could come along if you wanted to, but..." Amethyst was only shaking her head even harder, but Pearl wouldn't acknowledge it. "I'm not sure... you'd want to, is the thing."

Jasper stared blankly at her; from her standpoint, Pearl probably sounded like a crazy paranoid person. "Uh... if you don't want me to come, it's not a big deal--"

"I don't not want you to come!" Pearl interrupted. "T-trust me, I really don't want to make it seem like I'm leaving you behind or anything, just... There might be a reason why you won't want to--"

"It's Rose." Amethyst finally blurted out. "That's why Pearl's acting all weird about it." She turned her gaze towards Pearl. "There, I saved you from another twenty minutes of babbling."

"Amethyst!"

"What? You're a shitty liar and listening to that felt like I was eating glass."

"But you didn't have to tell her!"

"I'll go." Jasper said.

"No no no, please don't take it that way--"

"No, I mean I'll go with you guys." Jasper clarified. "If... you want me to." she added, her expression looking somewhat uneasy.

"...Oh." That wasn't the answer she was expecting to hear from her, but she certainly wasn't complaining... "Alright! Are... are you sure?"

"Uh... not really. I mean, I might change my mind later, but I think I wanna go." Jasper said. "Like, I'm not gonna get over myself by avoiding everyone who's ever pissed me off. And you guys really don't gotta walk on eggshells around me, either. Seriously. I'm not gonna get pissed off if you say her name around me."

Feeling rather foolish, Pearl cast her gaze towards the ground. "Ah... perhaps I shouldn't have assumed you wouldn't want to go."

"It's fine." Jasper shrugged. She dropped the coloring page on the coffee table, turning and heading towards the stairs. "Anyway, I gotta shower."

Once Jasper was gone again, Amethyst let out a sigh of relief. "Well, that went better than I expected."

"Right? I was expecting a trainwreck..." Pearl sighed. "But you know what? I'm glad she's coming with us. It seems very... out of character for her, but... maybe it's a sign that she's working on herself?"

"Maybe." Amethyst shrugged. "Or maybe she wants an excuse to kick Rose's ass."

"What? That's horrible!"

"Sorry, sorry, that was a bad joke." Amethyst said.

Pearl laughed nervously. "No, no, I just thought you were being serious."

"Still, though." Amethyst reached for Pearl's hand again, a smile spreading across her face. "Apology kiss?"

"Aw... of course." Pearl blushed, and Amethyst leaned up and softly kissed her on the lips.

Rose's house was surrounded by what looked like a forest of bushes; most of them were roses (ironically), but there were moonflowers, hydrangeas, and dogwoods among them as well. The steps of the front porch had little frog statues sitting on each end, some of which were chipped and faded from the sun, and a flowery wreath with a "Welcome!" sign in the middle hung on the front door. Pearl rang the doorbell, and not a moment later the door creaked open.

"Hey there!!" Rose greeted as she rushed out onto the porch, lifting Pearl up into her arms and spinning her around. Her bright pink hair, with blonde roots beginning to peek out, was tied up into a neat bun; she wore a silver crop top that showed off her pink navel piercing, and a pair of black jeans. "I'm so glad you made it! And you even brought along some friends!" After placing Pearl back on the ground, she extended a hand to Amethyst. "You must be Amethyst! Pearl told me all about you." Rose said with a wink as Amethyst shook her hand. She turned to Jasper, and her expression turned from enthusiastic to a softer, yet still warm expression. "And... Jasper. I haven't forgotten about you, either." She kept her hand extended for a moment, unsure if Jasper would be willing to accept her gesture, but the latter reached out and gave it a firm shake before she could shy away. "Neither have I." Jasper responded with a straight face. "Nice to see you again, though."

Rose held Jasper's hand in her own for another moment before casting her gaze back towards Pearl. "Ah, let's get inside, shall we? Steven's been so eager to see you again!" She held the door open for Pearl, and Jasper and Amethyst followed.

Pearl was immediately greeted by a massive, plump orange cat rubbing his face against her leg. He wore a neon pink studded collar that read "Lion", and it wasn't heard to guess how he'd earned that name. Steven pattered into the room not a second later and latched onto Pearl's other leg. "Pearl's here!!" he giggled, gazing up at her with his dark brown eyes. "Pearl Pearl Pearl!"

"Hey there, sweetie!" Pearl cooed, giving him a gentle hair ruffle. Noticing Pearl was feeling slightly overwhelmed by all of the sudden attention, Amethyst decided to deal with half of it and scooped Lion up into her arms with a grunt. "Oof, you're a heavy boy, huh?" she remarked.

"I was just about to start setting up the games!" Rose announced. "You guys can make yourself at home in the family room!"

Pearl led the way into the living room and seated herself on the loveseat. Amethyst sat beside her, allowing Lion to get comfy as he curled up on her lap. "What a cute little guy." Pearl cooed, scratching him behind the ears. After a few moments she glanced up, noticing Jasper hadn't sat down quite yet; she was wandering around the living room, glancing over the array of family pictures and various photography hanging on the wall. Pearl felt a slight twinge of anxiety; 'I hope she's not feeling too shy...' she thought, but didn't allow her mind to dwell on it for too long.

"I wanna sit with you!" Steven exclaimed, snapping Pearl out of her worried little daydream.

"What was that magic word I taught you, honey?" Rose called from across the room, still digging through the closet for the board games.

"Oh, right." Steven folded his hands politely. "Can I sit with you, please?"

"You sure can!" Pearl said, and scooted over so Steven could sit between her and Amethyst.

"Yay!" he said, and climbed up onto the loveseat, seating himself right where the two cushions met. He reached over to pet Lion, and then looked up at Amethyst. "Why's your hair purple?" he asked.

"Because I like purple, so I colored it." Amethyst said.

"Oooh." Steven tilted his head in curiosity. "My mommy has pink hair because she's a fairy. Don't tell anyone, though, it's a secret!"

"Alright, I'll be sure not to tell any total strangers like you just did." Amethyst burst into laughter.

"You're not a stranger! You're mommy's friend." Steven said.

"Oh yeah? Then what's my name?" Amethyst smirked.

"Am... Amber?" Steven said.

"Close enough." Amethyst ruffled Steven's hair.

Soon enough, the board games were placed on the large glass coffee table in the middle of the room, and Rose's husband, Greg, brought in a huge bowl of popcorn for everyone to share. Rose and Greg sat down on the couch across from Pearl, Amethyst, and Steven.

"So, we have Operation, Jenga, and Candy Land for tonight..." Rose said."How about we let our guests decide which one to start with?"

"Ooh, Operation!" Amethyst remarked. "Jasper's a surgeon, so she'll probably kick all of our asses at that." she said. Pearl shot her a glare and gestured to the child sitting between them. "Oh, sorry; kick our butts." Amethyst corrected.

"Operation! Operation!" Steven chanted. "I won't let Jasper kick my butt!"

"What do you think, Jasper?" Pearl asked, only to realize she was nowhere to be found.

An awkward silence filled the room. "Maybe she... went to the bathroom?" Amethyst suggested.

Rose, however, looked rather concerned. "Ah... one second. Greg, you can start the game. I have to go check something really quick."

"Huh? Oh, if you're sure..." Greg said. Before anyone could say anything else, Rose vanished just as quickly as Jasper had.

'Fuck.' Jasper splashed her face with water from the sink, taking in a deep breath. 'Why the hell did I think this was a good idea? Now I can't leave, and God knows how long Pearl will wanna stay here...'

A knock at the door made Jasper jump with surprise. "...Hello?"

"Jasper?" Rose called from the other side of the door. "Ah, may... May we talk when you're finished in there?"

Letting out another sigh, Jasper wiped her face with the hand towel and turned off the faucet. "Door's unlocked." she said.

The door creaked open, and Rose closed it behind her once she was in the room. "Are you alright?"

Jasper leaned against the sink and shrugged. "I dunno. I came here on an impulse and if I'm gonna be honest, I'm kinda regretting it. Nothing personal, just... ya know. Not sure I'm ready for this kinda thing."

"Understandable..." Rose sighed, gazing down at the floor. "But... since you're here..." she stepped a bit closer to Jasper, finally meeting her eyes. "I... I don't know. I don't think either of us are going to be able to relax until we... talk about what happened."

"Pearl told me all about it. You don't have to." Jasper said.

"But -- but that doesn't count. That isn't fair to you, and... And I feel awful for making her apologize to you for me. I mean, who does that?" Rose sighed deeply. "Jasper... What I did to you was terrible. There's no words for how sorry I am..."

Jasper fought back tears, cupping a hand over her mouth and turning away. "It's fine. I'm... over it, okay?"

"You're clearly not." Rose said. "I... I did so many horrible things back in high school, Jasper, but what I did to you was probably among the worst. I abandoned you when you needed me the most, all because I felt guilty about Pearl... It was just plain cruel. I'm so, so sorry..." Rose's voice cracked, and she finally broke down.

"Ugh..." Jasper sighed, wiping a tear from her face. "Come on, you don't gotta cry..."

"I know, but..." Rose sniffled, reaching for the toilet paper and tearing off a piece to wipe her mascara stained face. "You don't have to forgive me, but... These past few years, I've been trying so hard to undo all of the hurt I've caused. Not just to you, but... to other people as well. I at least want you to know how sorry I am. Pearl told me how much this has been eating at you, and... you don't deserve to feel that way anymore. I may not have talked to you in years, but... the Jasper I remember, at least, is a wonderful person, who deserves so much better."

An uncomfortable silence filled the room as Rose sobbed, while Jasper tried (and failed) to fight back her own tears. After a few minutes passed, Jasper finally drew in a deep breath. "Rose... you want me to be honest with you right now?"

Rose turned her gaze up towards Jasper. "What...?"

"We both look like we're wearing clown makeup." Jasper said with a teary eyed grin. "I say we wash our faces, re-apply our eyeliner, and get back to out there before anyone starts speculating."

Rose let out a sigh of relief and burst into laughter. "We do, don't we? This almost reminds me of our first homecoming dance!"

"Oh, don't even bring that up."

"Aww, but it's true!" Rose teased. "You cried your little freshman heart out after some boy dumped punch on your dress, and I was crying because Pearl's mom wouldn't let her come... And we redid each others makeup as we comforted each other in the girl's bathroom."

Jasper snorted. "Oh man, fuck that guy. Just for reminding me of that, I'm gonna tell your man about all the times you wore cat ears to school and ran like Naruto in gym class."

Rose gasped. "You wouldn't dare!" she cackled.

"I sure would!" Jasper responded, and pulled Rose into a tight embrace. Rose immediately returned it just as tightly, sighing with content.

"Guess I deserve it, after all I put you through, huh?" Rose giggled against her shoulder.

"You bet your ass you do." Jasper sniffled, giving Rose a playful nudge once she pulled away from the hug. "Now get me something to clean off this clown makeup, bitch."

"I'm on it, hold your horses." Rose huffed with amusement, opening up the cabinet and pulling out a bottle of makeup remover and an eyeliner pencil.

As she waited, Jasper leaned against the counter and ran her fingers through her hair. "Man... In all honesty, the main reason I came here in the first place was because I knew I'd feel worse if I didn't. Pearl's really the only friend I've got lately, and you know... I'm dealing with a lot of jealousy and shit. I'd probably spend the whole night moping if I knew she was hanging out with you and I was still alone... Guess my bullshit ended up helping me in the end this time, huh?"

"I guess so." Rose said with a smile. She dumped a few drops of makeup remover on a cotton ball, wiping away the makeup stains from her pale face. "But... I'm glad you came. And not just because it gave me an opportunity to apologize to you. I've really missed you, Jasper, and... if you'd like it, perhaps we could rebuild the friendship we had back then. I know it won't be the same, but..."

"Aww..." Jasper began, dabbing her face with a little bit of makeup remover. "You absolute fucking sap. I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss it too, though."

Rose smirked. "At least I'm not the only one." she remarked, popping the cap off of her eyeliner. "I wonder what everyone thinks we're doing right now..."

"I guarantee you Amethyst has made at least ten jokes about us having sex or some dumb shit." Jasper snorted.

Rose giggled childishly. "Ah, she's one of those types, huh? She seems like a pretty funny gal."

Jasper smiled awkwardly, glancing to the floor as she finished up her makeup. "Yeah... I guess."

"Well, let's not keep them waiting." Rose said once she was finished as well. "Ready?"

"Yep."

And with that, the two made their way back to the family room.

"There you are!" Amethyst remarked as soon as Jasper and Rose returned. "I thought you two had gone off to Narnia."

"No, we just had a little chat... We had some catching up to do is all." Rose smiled warmly. Jasper looked far more comfortable than she did before, to Pearl's relief. 'They must have talked things over...' she thought with a smile.

"Jasper, we need your doctor skills!" Steven exclaimed. "We keep trying to save this man, but it keeps going 'bzzzzzzzzt'!!"

"I forgot how bad I was at Operation." Greg said with an awkward laugh, handing the metal tweezers over to Jasper. "We've all had our turn, so you're next!"

"Alright, I'll give it my best shot." Jasper grinned, sitting down on the couch beside Greg. With a focused expression on her face, she reached in for the "funny bone", and plucked it out with ease.

"Yay!!" Steven cheered, running up to Jasper and holding his hand out for a high five. "You did it! You're the best!"

"Aw, uh, thanks kiddo." Jasper awkwardly high fived his tiny hand. "Your turn, Rose."

Rose seated herself on the other side of Jasper and reached for the tweezers. With Steven now sitting on the floor by his mom, the gap on the loveseat between Pearl and Amethyst was now empty... Pearl found herself scooting a little closer, and Amethyst did the same. The only thing stopping Pearl from reaching for her hand was the slight chance Jasper might look their way, but for the time being, Pearl was content with sitting just a little closer to her, now. 'Things are going to be alright.'

1 note · View note