#bUT AFTER SEEING HIM TRY FOR SO LONG AND HIS CLUELESS BROTHER PINING WITHOUT A CLUE

[nibbelraz]

Everyone but Shang Qinghua can see it

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Meant To Be // G.W.

Request: Hi! Could you do a George x Reader where he asks her to teach him to dance for the yule ball, because he wants to impresses somebody else, but then they ✨fall in love✨, maybe they didn't know each other before this for that extra awkwardness? Thank you 💕 - anon

A/N: This is so utterly self indulgent and heavily inspired by that one scene from Anastasia. Dimitri was my first love, not even gonna lie to you all. Also, I am the furthest thing from a dancer so if I have explained anything wrong in this, I am so sorry! Despite that, I hope you all enjoy!!

Warnings: she/her pronouns, pining, feelings, emotions, dancing, mentions of food, feelings of sadness, very very light angst. THIS HAS A HAPPY ENDING!!

Word count: 4.1k

Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry had many traditions that dated back to the time of the four founders; the houses and their competition, the Quidditch tournaments, but the one that excited the entire student body had to be that of the Yule Ball.

The Yule Ball accompanied the Triwizard Tournament – a competition held between the magical schools of Europe to promote cooperation and boost friendly relations between students. From the very announcement of the Triwizard Tournament, the student body of Hogwarts became more focused on the Yule Ball and what to wear rather than the dangers posed by the trials being faced by their fellow students.

“The house of Godric Gryffindor has commanded the respect of the other houses for over ten centuries. I will not have you, in one night, besmirch his name by behaving like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons,” McGonagall’s voice calls out across the hall; her eyes steadily meeting every single gaze of the students sat around her.

Those in the hall seem to cower under her scrutiny; the power that she wields over this house being enough for every student in Gryffindor to try their best to impress the head of their house.

George has very little faith in himself at this point. A master prankster, and secretly one of the smartest wizards in the school, he has little talent when it comes to dancing. As he watches his youngest brother take to the floor with the head of Gryffindor, George feels something close to dread settle like lead in his stomach.

He would need help, and he would need it fast, especially if he wanted to ask Margot Banbridge to the ball. Margot – the girl who had caught his attention at the beginning of the month with her secret smiles and wide blue eyes. George so desperately wanted to be the one to take her to the Yule Ball, but then again, so did many of the other lads in the year. George needed to stand out and being able to dance would be the perfect way to do so.

-------------

The common room is loud that very evening. All students talking about the upcoming ball and the lessons completed today. Ron’s face was still red from his dance with McGonagall; he would never live this down. However, for now, George wasn’t too concerned on joking with his brother, but rather how he was going to solve the predicament he finds himself in.

“What do I do, Fred?” George pleads to his twin, “I have no idea how to dance!��

Fred laughs, “Can’t help you there, mate. I’m just as clueless as you.”

George groans; resisting the urge to shove his face into a cushion and wallow in self-pity. If he didn’t know how to dance, how could he impress Margot?

“Talk to (Y/N),” Hermione offers, absentmindedly turning the page of the heavy hardback laid in her lap, “She dances as a hobby. She might be able to help you, George.”

“Do you think she would?” George asks, worry niggling the back of his mind. He had so rarely spoken to you before despite being in the same house, “We’ve never really spoken before.”

Hermione nods, “I think she would. She’s always been kind to me when I’ve asked her for help.”

George smiles; nodding at his younger brother’s friend. “Alright,” He decides, “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

--------------

You could feel his gaze burning a hole into the back of your head. All morning, in every class your shared with the Weasley twin, his eyes had rarely left the back of your head. By morning break, it had started to get on your nerves. By lunch, you were more than ready to accost the redhead and demand the reasoning behind this newfound attention he seems intent on giving you.

Pausing outside the Great Hall, you move to one side to let younger Gryffindor’s pass. Out of the corner of your eye, you see George pause, turning to his twin to look as if he wasn’t just following you for the sake of it.

“Weasley!” You shout. George jumps; not out of terror, but out of being caught ogling so openly. Fred laughs as he leaves his twin to talk to you. George rubs a hand across the back of his neck, “(Y/N)… fancy seeing you here.”

You roll your eyes, “What do you need?”

“What? What makes you think I need something from you?” George questions; slightly affronted at your sudden jump to his needing of something, even if it was right.

You place your hands on your hips; shooting him an unimpressed look, “This is the longest conversation we’ve ever had in our whole seven years of education so it’s safe to say you want something from me. That, and the fact that you’ve been burning a hole into my head all morning so what do you need, George?”

George sighs; running a hand through his too long hair, “Hermione said you would be able to help me.”

Your face softens at the mention of the bright witch; you had a soft spot for the younger girl, her knowledge and thirst for witchcraft something to be found as inspiring. “What did Hermione say?”

“That you dance as a hobby and that you might be able to teach me.”

“Hermione is right on both counts. I do dance, and I am able to teach you,” You state, “But why do you need to be taught, George?”

George leans closer to you; his voice dropping to a whisper as he confesses, “I want to ask Margot Banbridge to the Yule Ball.”

“Ah,” You sigh, “So it’s all for one night with a girl.”

George frowns, “It’s for more than one night. Hopefully something will start after the Yule Ball, but I need to be able to impress her first and not step on her toes.”

A small smile graces your face as George struggles to get through the sentence without blushing. “Meet me every Saturday in the Room of Requirement. I’ll teach you how to dance.”

“You will?” He asks; hope shining in his voice.

“I will, but I’m doing this to protect the poor girl’s toes, Weasley,” You state sternly; your smile lingering at the sweetness of the redhead.

George nods solemnly, “And it’s a service you shall be recognised for. Thank you, (Y/N).”

Without helping it, a smile crosses your face. Grabbing your bag, you hoist it up on your shoulder, “Room of Requirement on Saturday at 10am, Weasley. Don’t be late.”

-------------

By 10am on Saturday, George can only be described a bundle of nerves. He had barely made it through breakfast; Fred teasing him all the way through it as Ron and Harry laughed along with him. The only support he found was in Hermione who seemed genuinely pleased that he had asked for help. George sent her a small smile as he managed half a piece of toast before rushing from the Great Hall; frantic about not wanting to be late for his first lesson with you.

His hands shake as he walks past the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, thinking of you and your whereabouts. The door appears after his third walk past and George hurriedly tugs open the door before he can talk himself out of it.

The room in which you have conjured reminds George of the Hall in which McGonagall had taught her first and only dance lesson. However, you’ve conjured a whole wall of mirrors that have a bar running across the middle.

George pauses in the entryway as the large wooden door slams shut behind him. The noise still hasn’t alerted you to his presence as you fiddle with a record player, a small collection of vinyl’s laid out on the small table. He watches you twiddle with the settings; the volume dial and checking that the needle is secure before turning to survey the room.

You jump when you spy George standing by the door. You greet him with a large smile, beckoning to him with an outstretched hand, “Come on in, George, I don’t bite.”

George laughs despite himself; stepping further into the large room. “What is this place?” He asks.

You turn around; arms stretched wide as you explain, “This is what the dance studio back home looks like. It’s where I spend all my time when I’m home for the holidays, so I bring it here when I can.”

“It’s wonderful,” George comments; breathless at the sheer amount of detail and personality personified by the room. He barely knows you, yet he realises he’s standing in an incredibly personal room that you’ve trusted him with. He feels honoured that you’ve put this much trust in him already.

You smile at him in thanks before turning your attention back to the vinyl’s littering the small table. You tap your fingernails against the table as you sift through the records, trying to decide which would be best to start with.

It takes a moment or two, but eventually you settle on a vinyl catering to classical music. You turn to George, holding the cover up for him to see much to his dismay, “The first few dances will be to instrumentals I’m afraid, so it’ll be classical for now.”

George frowns, but he nods, nonetheless. He’s never been a fan of classical music; not understanding the feelings that could be evoked from it. He needed lyrics in order to feel something; he needed to hear the pain or joy in the singer’s voice for him to feel the true extent of the song.

“First things first, show me what you think a hold looks like.”

George raises his arms; only feeling slightly foolish as his right arm stretches out and his left arm curls around an invisible body. His left splays across an invisible back, and he watches you appraise him.

“Am I okay to touch you?” You ask; not wanting to make him jump as you start grabbing his arms. At the nod of his head, you start to feel his framework, checking for where it lacks in definition.

It takes the better part of fifteen minutes to explain why his frame is essential to the dance when George believed that it would be his footwork that solely mattered, but by the end of your rant, he understands it all a lot better.

Then you move onto the footwork. Explaining to George that spending every minute of the song staring down at his feet was going to cause more issues than anything. You can’t help but laugh slightly each time he steps on your foot; he apologises with such sincerity that it’s hard not to forgive him either though you know your feet will be bruised tomorrow. However, as the song finishes and the needle begins to click onto empty record, you feel that George has what it takes to become a good enough dancer to woo Margot.

Breaking the hold, you rush to the record player, lifting the needle from the record and setting it to one side. “Tell me about Margot, George. Why her?” You ask as you pat your face down with a towel and grab a bottle of water, offering another to George.

George shrugs, taking the offered water bottle, “She’s gorgeous, and she’s ridiculously talented in Charms and Transfiguration.”

“Huh,” You comment.

“What?”

“I don’t know,” You reply, shaking your head with a smile George couldn’t define, “I didn’t think you would favour brains over looks for some reason, but you’ve surprised me.”

“Have you got a date?” He asks; curiosity getting the better of him.

You shake your head, “No date, but I am going to the ball with a group of my friends. It’ll be a good night; I’m looking forward to it.”

“It will,” George echoes; mind faraway, to a night in the future where he grabs and keeps the attention of Margot.

“All we need to do now if get you ready for it. You’ll be a pro in no time, Weasley.”

“You think?”

“I don’t think, I know,” You gloat, a smile crossing your face, “If we continue to meet every week until the ball, you’ll be waltzing Margot into a tizzy.”

George barks out a laugh at your words, heading for the door, “I’ll see you every Saturday then.”

“Every Saturday,” You echo as George leaves. You shake your head; vaguely wondering about the outcome of these lessons.

--------------

Two weeks into the lessons and a friendship forms between yourself and George. He was so enthusiastic; he was happiness personified. It was hard not to find yourself caught up in his retellings of pranks he was behind, or stories of being at home over the holidays. He had a knack for storytelling; punctuating in the right places and creating a set up that had your sides hurting from laughing so hard.

You find yourself sitting with his friends more – at meal times and in the common room; getting to know the rest of the golden trio other than Hermione, and finally meeting Fred Weasley.

“So you’re the one who’s been teaching our Georgie how to dance,” Fred states; mischief in his eyes and a smile on his lips.

“I am,” You comment, smiling politely, “He’s doing well, if you wanted to know.”

Fred grins, reaching for the jar of orange juice in the centre of the table, “I don’t doubt it.”

George rolls his eyes at the small conversation taking place between you and Fred. You smile at his reaction, but also at the blind faith placed in George by his twin brother.

“You should have seen him the other night, (Y/N),” Fred cackles, “He was practicing some footwork, stating that he needed to get it right before your lesson.”

“You weren’t?” You ask George; delighted in the blush staining his cheeks.

“I was,” He admits shyly, “But it was that really tricky part that I couldn’t get last time.”

“That’s adorable, Georgie,” You coo; reaching over to pinch his cheek. He bats your hand away with a laugh but keeps hold of your fingers for a tad longer than he should have, enjoying your attention and the sound of your laugh.

“How did you get into dancing?” Ron asks; voice curious as he munches on a piece of toast.

“It was something my mum signed me up for when I was four years old and it grew from there.”

“Do you mainly dance ballroom?” Hermione asks; eyes bright as she basks in the happiness to have her older friend sit with her usual friends.

“Not just ballroom,” You state, “I tap dance too as well as some ballet.” At their wide eyes you backpedal, “My mum wanted me to have the grace and dexterity of a ballerina before she realised I much preferred the other two. I finished ballet when I was thirteen, but I still do the stretches,” You shrug, “They help with the warm ups for other dances.”

George grins; eyes darting between you and his friends, “What did I tell you? She’s a wonder.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re only calling me that because you feel guilty for how often you step on my toes.”

Fred snorts, “Does that often does he?”

George blushes; reaching for his drink. You shake your head with a laugh, “Not now. He did a lot in the beginning, but he’s much better now.”

George’s blushes deepens as the warmth of your words settles on your skin and he meets your eyes. The gaze holds; both of you forgetting you’re sat at a table with friends as you both smile softly at the other.

Someone clearing their throat has you breaking the gaze with George. Your face heats as you meet the interested stare of his twin brother; Fred’s eyes darting between you and George as if seeing something that wasn’t obvious for the two of you.

Conversation starts up again; Fred talking to George and Ron asking Harry about a piece of homework. As their voices gather around you, you give yourself a moment to come to terms with the feelings raging in your body. You let yourself have a single instant in which you wonder whether this friendship has developed into something more for you.

-------------

A week before the ball and you’ve accepted your feelings for the redhead. You’ve accepted that in just over a month, he’s not only formed a friendship with you, but he’s also gotten you to fall in love with him. At eighteen years old, the world tells you that you’re too young to know the meaning of the word, but what else could describe the way you feel when you look at him? What else could explain the racing of your heart when he meets you outside your classes, an arm ready to grab your bag?

At eighteen years old, the world expects you to know so much, but not your own mind. However, at eighteen years old, you know that you’re in love with George Weasley, and all from him asking you to teach him how to dance.

“What do you think? Ready to practice a waltz, George?”

He laughs lightly; the sound being music to your ears, “Let’s try a waltz.”

From the moment the needle meets the vinyl, George has his hold ready. You glide into it seamlessly; hands joining together as George begins to lead you through the one, two, three steps of the waltz.

Distantly, you hear the music sounding from your record player. Distantly, you hear your footsteps on the wooden floor, but all you can focus on is how good it feels to be in George’s hold. To have his hands on you; how warm they feel against your skin and just how much you want him closer to you.

He continues to lead you round the floor; his eyes not leaving yours as his grip on you becomes tighter. Your mind heads into overdrive; wondering how it would feel to have his hands on different parts of your body; how he would react if you leaned forward that little bit and kissed him.

“I’m feeling a little dizzy…” You murmur; whether it’s from the spinning or from the close proximity of George, you can’t tell.

“Kind of lightheaded?” George asks; a small smile on his face, “Me too.”

“Maybe we should…” You trail off; truly not wanting this moment to end as George pauses mid spin.

“Stop spinning? I think we should too.”

“We have stopped,” You say; refusing to drop the hold, refusing to leave him.

George shakes his head; his mind becoming clearer as he comes too from the daydream he found himself in as he spun you around the Room of Requirement.

Neither of you know how long you stand there; his hand on your waist and yours on his shoulder. Neither of you know how long your chests heave; from the breathlessness of the dancing, but also from the hormones and emotions flying about the room that neither of you are truly ready to address.

Stepping back - protecting your heart mainly - you drop the hold, moving off to the side where your bag waits for you. George opens and closes his mouth a few times; unable to find the words he wants to say, unable to comprehend the feelings coursing through his body this very minute.

Holding your bag to your chest, as if having a physical barrier between yourself and George will stop the cracking of your heart, you whisper, “I think you’re ready, George.”

“You do?” He asks. They aren’t the words he wants to say; they aren’t the words that are carved into his heart, mind, and soul, but they are what he says because he can see the look on your face, and he doesn’t know what to do.

You nod, trying your best to stave off the wobbling of your lip and the breaking of your heart until you’re back in your room. “Yeah,” You say; smiling weakly, “You’re ready, Georgie. Go get your girl.”

You leave him there; rushing from the room with the last of your broken heart trailing behind you. The tears begin to fall on your way back to the common room; unable to look anyone in the eye as you sprint to your room and throw yourself on your bed.

Hiding your face in your pillow, you barely repress the scream that’s been working its way out of your chest. The way your heart was cracking in your chest, you felt certain the whole school could hear it. You felt the fool; how could you not fall for him? How could you not fall for every aspect of him? You saw him at his most nervous and you saw him at his most confident; you saw every aspect of him, and your heart gave itself so willingly that you hadn’t even noticed until it was too late.

It was too late. He was ready; he could waltz the night away with Margot and he would be none the wiser to your feelings. There was no need for him to know just how he made your heart race, or how he was the reason behind most of your smiles these days. He didn’t need to know how he featured in your daydreams; distracting you from classwork.

He didn’t need to know any of that because by the end of the Yule Ball, he’ll have wooed Margot and you’ll have returned to your dance studio alone.

-------------

The dance studio feels cold without him; as if in the sort time you had been teaching him, it had also gotten used to his warm presence and the light he exudes.

Following your old routine, you select a record and place it on the player. Setting the needle down, you roll your neck, stretching your muscles out as the first song begins to play.

Needless to say that while you lose your body to the music, the steps being second nature to you, you do not lose your mind. Your feet follow the steps, but your mind does not quieten as it flips through images of what George could be doing right now. How his hand would feel on small of Margot’s back; how his hand would clasp hers tightly as he leads her confidently around the dancefloor.

You hadn’t been able to attend the ball in the end. Too afraid of what you might see, and what you might feel. Too afraid to meet the eyes of those you now class a friends and see the pity reflected in their eyes as you realise that your feelings for the Weasley twin had been obvious to everyone but him.

You gasp as you catch movement in the corner of your eye; regretting leaving your wand so far away on the table. You hold a hand to your heart as you face whoever had found your room.

He stands just in front of the door; chest rising rapidly as if he ran to all the way here.

“George?” You question; automatically stepping closer to the redhead, your heart starting to sing at his very presence. Every part of you wants to reach for him, but the logical side of you makes you wait.

“I waited for you,” He states plainly with no greeting, “I waited for you and you didn’t come.”

Your eyes drop to the floor as you confess, “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t watch you with her.”

You couldn’t watch from the sidelines as George danced the night away; dancing what you had taught him. It only felt like further punishment, and for now, you had had enough of that.

“I waited for you,” He repeats.

“Why?” You ask; needing to know.

“I couldn’t take her. Not after our final dance lesson, it wasn’t fair to her or to you. So I didn’t take her. Instead, I waited outside the Great Hall for over an hour, hoping you would make an appearance. When you didn’t, I had to come find you. I knew you would be here.”

You sniffle, “You came for me?”

George nods, “I realised something after our final lesson.”

“What?”

He steps further into the room; striding forward until he stands in front of you. He tilts your face up sing two fingers; his eyes shine with happiness as he whispers, “I don’t want to dance with anyone but you.”

“You don’t?”

“I don’t. If I’m to dance with anyone, it’ll be you. I think we were meant to be; don’t you agree?”

You nod your head, faintly brushing your lips against his as you whisper, “I agree. I think we were meant to be.”

********

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George Weasley taglist: @susceptible-but-siriusexual @ickle-ronniekins

[laurentspup]

Friends... Is that what we are? (Lamen AU) Part 7.5

Masterlist

Author’s note: 

Hey it’s been so long since I updated this! It still takes a lot of me to think of dialogue and edit the messages, so this isn’t new content. It is, however, what really happened in part 7 (when Damen went to Laurent’s house and read him a book, and kissed his forehead). I always thought this was better in paragraphs than soc med format, so here it is. I actually drafted this before part 7 and I finished it now! 

I hope you all enjoy this new chapter and I promise I will be back with a new update soon. I just have to get used to driving (just passed my license a month ago), college (it’s my last year), and work (first year in person). 

Okay that was a lot, now onto this chapter full of sweetness and pining.

Part 7.5

It’s past midnight, but Laurent still has a big smile on his face since his call with Damen. It has been a few hours after Damen simply talked about his day, about his brother, about the yacht his parents bought because they had too much money and nothing more to spend it on, anything he could think of. Laurent was more than happy to sit there and listen to his voice. He liked the man too much to do anything else about it.

He is currently studying for his upcoming biology exam on Tuesday. It’s not too bad of an exam, but there are endless terms, endless body functions, and he hates that all he can do is memorize everything. It’s not learning but it does result in an A. His phone buzzes beside him, and welcoming any distraction, he picks it up to see a text from Damen. He’s downstairs.

Laurent runs to his window to check if it’s true. Damen, knowing exactly what Laurent does every time he surprises Laurent with a visit, is looking up at him, waving. Damen’s at Laurent’s door. He isn’t supposed to be home yet, back in this city, but here he is, glowing under the porch light, gorgeous in his hoodie, and everything Laurent ever wanted. He’s speaking but Laurent, shaking his head with a look of disbelief, can’t hear him. 

“Wait one sec.” He whispers with a gesture and turns around to go downstairs in a hurry. Before opening the door, he fixes his hair and assumes a relaxed position, as if his heart isn’t pounding miles a minute at the prospect of Damen outside his house, at midnight. As if this doesn’t happen almost everyday.

Once he’s face to face with Damen’s kind eyes, with the smile that can only be read as extremely happy to see him, his heart hammers harder in his chest.

“What are you doing here?” Laurent breathlessly asks him with wide eyes, confusion and excitement evident on his face, try as he might to mask it.

Damen is also breathless, though Laurent can’t think of any reason why.

“I missed you.”

It’s a punch to all the right places in Laurent’s heart. It’s something he can never say to Damen out loud, but he feels it all the same, right down to his bones. It’s something he didn’t know Damen had the nerve to say out loud to him. 

“I mean-” Damen begins and Laurent’s face twitches. Damen must have caught it because he stops. “I mean yeah. I missed you so I drove back since there’s nothing to do at my parent’s anymore. And I got you this.”

Laurent doesn’t see the Target plastic bag in Damen’s hand until he lifts it. 

“It’s from my mom. She insisted I give you a home-cooked meal since she knows you’re mostly alone nowadays. She doesn’t stop hinting at my dad that she wants to go on a European tour too, see Paris- what? Why are you smiling?”

Laurent doesn’t know he’s smiling. He tries to school his expression even though it’s too late.

“Nothing. You’re here. No- it’s just- I don’t know what I’m saying. Come in.” He quickly says the sentences after the other, making Damen laugh and his cheeks flush. “Shut up.”

“I wasn’t saying anything!” Damen enters behind him, shaking with happiness. 

Laurent leads him to the kitchen, so he can put the food in the fridge. It’s too late to eat right now and he has a few more chapters to read.

Damen gives him the plastic bag and sits on the stool by the island. He stares at Laurent as he unpacks the tupperwares, then puts it in the fridge. A comfortable silence surrounds them, but Laurent is too conscious of Damen’s stare. It’s as if he can hear the dangerous somersaults Laurent’s heart was doing. 

“You still studying tonight?” 

“Yeah. Bio’s kicking my ass.”

“I’ll stay up with you. Nik’s not home yet, anyway. He visited his parents too since he was there already.”

“You don’t have to stay up.”

“No, I want-”

“But you can stay.”

“Well, I’m staying up and you can’t stop me.” Damen is right in front of Laurent's face when he turns to face him. He steps back quickly. “Cool?”

“Do whatever you want.” Laurent replies, heart in his throat, rushing to leave the kitchen and get to his room before Damen sees his face turn dangerously red. 

**

Laurent’s head is bent, back to Damen, busy reading the last chapter for his exam. Nothing is entering his brain anymore, but he has to read all of these at least two times to store it in his brain until his test. He’s been yawning since the third paragraph, and he has a massive headache which began in the previous chapter. 

It has been two hours since Laurent started studying and let Damen just be in the background. He would hear Damen’s little laughs, gasps, or groans at whatever game he was playing on his phone. He feels Damen’s gaze on his back, conscious of him being conscious of his every move. It was a normal routine for them at three am, but somehow, today, it was more. 

Laurent yawns again. This chapter about the reproductive system is very intriguing, but exasperating. He would rather do it himself than read about it. If only the man currently on his bed knew how much he has been thinking about him and this. He sighs at the idea, then hears Damen shuffle on his bed.

“I think you need to take a break.”

“Be quiet. I’m studying.”

“Take a break, Laurent. You’ve been reading nonstop for two hours. I got so bored I started counting how much you’re yawning. It's thirty-seven by the way.”

“That’s weird. Stop staring at me while I’m studying.”

“But I like looking at you all concentrated.” 

Laurent ignores him. “Just shut up. I have five more pages to go.”

Damen stands up and takes Laurent’s book. He holds it up above his head. Laurent rolls his eyes but doesn’t stand up.

“Give it back to me right now.” He crosses his arms like a stubborn child.

“Nope. You can try to grab it though.” The real stubborn child says.

“Just because you’re half a foot taller than me, doesn’t mean I can’t reach it.”

“Bet.” 

“I’m not in the mood for your games, Damen.”

“I’m not playing. Take a break.”

“Dude, I wanna sleep too. Just let me finish.”

“Dude?” Damen says, offended. Laurent ignores his tone again. He stares at Damen with eyebrows raised, trying to be intimidating, knowing well that it won’t work on Damen. “Fine. If you go to bed I’ll give it back to you. Even if you look super sleepy.”

“I’m not sleepy.” Just as Laurent finishes the last word, he yawns. 

Damen raises his eyebrows at him. “Thirty-eight.”

“Ha ha. Give me back the book.”

“When you go to bed.”

“I’m not falling for that.”

Damen falls back on Laurent’s bed. Maybe if he offered something else, Laurent might say yes. Maybe Laurent is just tired. 

“You gotta get this book one way or another.” Damen shrugs. 

Laurent stubbornly stays on his chair, staring daggers at Damen. What the hell is his problem? He didn’t ask him to stay up with him, he told him not to!

Laurent watches Damen flip through the book, knowing he hates it because he’s going to lose his spot. Still, he notices how Damen's index finger remains on the page he’s reading. It’s sweet, but Damen still sucks for making him take a break.

“Ugh.” Annoyed, Laurent stands and goes beside his bed. “I’m here. Hand it back.” 

“I have an idea.” Damen answers, not looking at him.

“Damen.” Laurent says, getting more aggravated by the second.

“Look, your eyes are so tired right now.”

“You’re not looking at me, and I can’t see my own eyes.”

Damen ignores him. “Did you even sleep last night?”

Laurent flushes when he remembers the reason why he hasn't slept well at all yet. It’s because of this annoying, clueless brute lying on his bed and he doesn’t even know! All the hours he spends pining for him, yet this is all that ever happens to them. 

“See? You haven’t.” Damen answers, interpreting Laurent’s expression as guilt and embarrassment. “Lie down right now and close your eyes.”

“Stop telling me what to do. I have to finish studying.” 

Laurent can just take the book, but he knows Damen will pull him and force him to lie down. God, if only Damen is going to do that for other reasons, he’d have done it the moment Damen told him to go to bed.

“I’ll read it to you.” 

“You’re going to what?” Laurent asks, genuinely taken aback.

“I'm gonna read to you while you rest your eyes. Saves time. You rest while you still learn. It’s a win-win.” Damen looks at him and smiles expectantly.

“That’s stupid, Damen. It’s five pages long. And it won’t go into my brain.” Laurent is exasperated. He’s losing patience. Hell, he doesn’t even know why he’s still keeping up this conversation. He could kick out Damen anytime. This is his house.

“Yes it would. You take in everything you hear fast.” Laurent opens his mouth to spit a vicious remark but Damen talks first. “Just let me help you. Please.”

Laurent closes his eyes, trying so hard, even though he doesn’t know why, to keep calm. He equally hates and loves Damen for making him take a break and for offering to read five pages of the reproductive system. He grits his teeth because he’s going to say yes, and he’s going to hear Damen talk about sex and sex parts without knowing what it will do to Laurent.

“You’re so annoying.” Laurent sits on the bed. Damen scoots to give him space with a wide smile on his face. “Why can’t I say no to you?” 

“It’s because secretly you really like me.”

He wants to strangle Damen. He wishes he could shake him and look him in the eye and scream “YES I FUCKING DO. DO YOU LIKE ME BACK, ASSHOLE?” Fuck him. It’s true. It’s so true, but Laurent is never going to admit that… first.

“Just read. Annoying prick.” He mumbles and makes himself comfortable on the bed. He makes sure there’s at least a foot gap between him and the idiot beside him.

“You can come closer. I don't bite.” Damen says, staring at Laurent with that glint in his eye, patting the space next to him.

“So fucking bossy.” Laurent says angrily and still scoots over. He’ll get over feeling Damen’s warmth and not being in his arms instead. ���If I sleep, you better wake me up or I'm killing you.” 

He huffs as his head hits the soft pillow and his eyes close. It feels good. He thinks he hasn’t closed his eyes to blink in the past hours. 

“Can’t kill me if you’re sleeping.” Damen answers with confidence, settling back on the bed. Laurent feels him move until their shoulders touch, despite the purposeful one inch gap that Laurent left so this won’t happen. Now, he’s really annoyed and conflicted. But he doesn’t move away.

“Give me back the book.” 

“Kidding!”

“Just start.”

“So fucking bossy.” Damen teases. 

Laurent opens his eyes, ready to smack Damen or kick him out or maybe kiss him too, but he opens the book and starts reading loudly. “The penis is part of the male reproductive system. See Damen’s for ref-”

“I’m pretty sure it doesn't say your-” Laurent cuts him off.

“Shh, I’m reading.”

“Read properly, then. And I’m on the top of that page, first paragraph.”

Damen hushes him again. Laurent rolls his eyes but stays quiet. When Damen begins once more, he reads what Laurent told him to. Laurent feels his heart leap at that, desperate to reach out to Damen, put his head on his shoulder and listen from there. But he keeps his hands to himself. 

As Damen reads about functions of the reproductive organs, Laurent soaks in his voice and his warmth. Maybe, this isn’t such a bad idea. He can actually focus better. His eyes don’t hurt as much now, and he can picture the words that Damen reads. His deep voice compels him to listen, and it tugs at his heartstrings at the same time. He can’t even fathom how amazing it is to have Damen read a Biology book to him. 

This can’t be just a friendly gesture, Laurent’s brain nags at him. But he quickly kicks all thoughts of more because he knows Damen. Damen has probably done this with all of his friends. He’s just a nice guy who brings Laurent food and makes him take a break and reads his book for him, and Laurent just happens to like him. There’s nothing more.

He listens to Damen flip to the next page, and shuts off the part of his brain that continues to pine for the man beside him. He’ll take this right now and he’ll think about the repercussions tomorrow. Right now, he’ll let himself feel the warmth and comfort of Damen. Right now, he’ll listen to Damen’s voice, soothing him like a lullaby.

**

Laurent opens his eyes. It’s not dark, his lights are left on, and there’s an unfamiliar warmth beside him, something he’s unaccustomed to when he wakes alone. His head is on a harder surface, not on a pillow but- 

He shifts his eyes to the left and sees Damen's clothed chest. The chest his head is resting on right now. The chest his head rested on while he slept. The chest that’s steadily falling and rising. 

He slept and somehow, he ended up on Damen’s chest. He asked to be woken up if he slept, but he should have never trusted Damen. 

Damen, annoying, clueless Damen, whose clothed chest is under his head right now. 

He wants to move away, badly, but also, he can't. Because he wants to be here too, badly. 

Physically, there were no obstacles stopping Laurent from moving away. Damen’s arms aren’t even enveloping him. Somehow, he slept without touching Laurent, probably because he knows Laurent doesn’t like to be touched without permission. God, why is Damen so?

For a few moments, he imagines this is real. That Damen is his to sleep on, to cuddle with. That if Damen wakes right now, he’ll kiss Laurent sleepily, a lazy smile spreading across his face. So he stays for a few seconds, tempted to move his arm on top of Damen's torso and snuggle closer. He wants this to be what they are. But it’s not.

Before Laurent could do anything that he can’t explain to Damen without spilling his heart open, he sighs and prepares to move away. He no longer wants to hurt and delude himself further. He doesn’t want to think of this as a mistake, but it is. Damen doesn’t feel the same way he does. Damen is his best friend and he should stay that way. 

He moves back a little, but Damen shifts. He abruptly stops moving for a second to not wake him, but Damen puts his arms on top of him and brings him closer. 

“Don’t go.” A sleepy voice whispers as a kiss is pressed on Laurent’s forehead.

Laurent freezes. He must still be dreaming. There’s no way in hell or heaven that Damen just kissed him on the forehead, asleep or not. He swallows, too afraid to look up and find out if Damen did this on purpose or in his dream. In this position, Laurent’s head is even closer to Damen’s clothed chest and he can hear his steady heartbeat, can see the rise and fall of his chest, and can determine Damen isn’t awake at all. 

Laurent is going crazy. That’s it. He needs to leave, right now, but he can't move anymore. What the fuck is Damen doing to him? What the fuck is he dreaming about? Why can’t he just tell Laurent now that he likes him too, that nothing is ever simply friendly between them?

Once more, he tries to leave the embrace but Damen hugs him tighter. 

“Don’t go.” Damen whispers again. “Laurent, I love you.”

Laurent cannot move, cannot breathe, cannot close his eyes. He’s sure now. He’s the one dreaming.  

[angelkurenai]

Holding on - Steve Rogers x Reader

Title: Holding on

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: None

Prompt: I have an idea on a one shot where the reader is bucky’s adopted sister and she and Steve are dating . When Bucky finds out he is against it and he and Steve get into a fight because that’s his little sister and nobody not even Captain America will ever be good enough for her

“My brother's been a bit quiet today. Well, a bit more quiet than usual.” you noted skeptically, sitting comfortably on the couch as Steve carefully placed a soft drink in front of you on the coffee table “Did you two talk about something that I'm currently not aware of?”

“Not much, not much that you didn't hear of yourself. The usual I suppose.” your boyfriend ever oblivious, or innocent, or downright clueless, merely shrugged as he came to sit next to you.

“Fine then.” you sighed, rephrasing “Maybe something that I should know about? Something concerning me? And possibly you?”

He paused, looking at you carefully “I-” he let a soft sigh, eyebrows pulling into a frown “I haven't told him about... us, yet, if- if that's what you'd like to hear but- There was a mention of you and-” he stopped himself, giving you a reassuring smile “It's stupid. It's just a stupid talk, I brushed it off as soon as it was over with. That's why I didn't bring it up to begin with.”

“So I was right then. Bucky's been thinking about something else other than you getting back from the time travel all safe and sound.” somehow, having your thoughts verified put you more on edge than calmed you down.

“Well, I mean-” he shrugged softly, smile reassuring but his eyes were anything but that “I really had to survive getting all the stones to their places and coming back to you. It wasn't easy and with all that at risk I guess that it was something that could be considered like just another usual talk of not doing anything stupid while he was gone.”

“Rogers, I've heard the 'Taking all the stupid with you.' talk before, and this ain't it. You looked like-” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, your eyes moving back and forth as you studied him “I know you, and I know you and Buck better than anyone else. Something was said between the two of you that you may think isn't much but it actually was. What were his exact words?”

“Well, he said to be careful, to make sure I don't do anything stupid and in the end, his words were something more like-” he stopped when he noticed the pointed look you were giving him “Alright, his exact words 'Tell her I said hello.' that was it. I didn't even understand what he was trying to-” but he paused, this time no words needing to be added or questions to be answered as the both of you felt the realization dawn on you.

“Oh” he breathed out as he blinked several times, no more words could come out given how dry his mouth.

“Oh” you repeated, voice more tight and words much more sharp but without any anger. If anything, from the way you pulled to yourself and away from him to how you carefully looked at him with... weary and almost sad eyes “So... did you? Say hello to Peggy, I mean. It's clear that's what he meant.”

“I didn't kno-” he stopped, letting out a frustrated sigh “I didn't even know what he meant, (Y/n), and I didn't plan to talk with anybody to begin with. The mission was rather clear anyway. I don't understand why Bucky would say-”

“I can easily think of a reason or two. And I can't say I blame him.”

“Reasons?” his gaze darkened but there was no anger behind it, not directed at you at least “What kind of reasons would he have to think that? And what do you mean by not blaming him? Do you think that I would have gone to Peggy too, (Y/n)? Answer me. Do you really think I could do that to you?”

“Well, to answer your first question-” you paused, looking down for a moment “If you didn't carry that compass with you all the time, then maybe he wouldn't have a reason to think that you would stay back in time with Peggy. And I- I just happened to find it in your clothes as I was doing laundry, that's all.”

“Did you open it?” it surprised to hear his voice being so soft instead of angry at you finding something so personal, even by accident. Though in all honesty you should be the one that got angry given how he carried a photo of his ex around all the time. But it saddened you more than could anger you.

“No, Steve, I told you I found it by accident. I respect your privacy, I wouldn't-”

“Because then maybe if you did-” he approached you, taking something out of his pocket “Then you would notice that yes I do carry it around all the time but not in the way you would imagine.” he opened the compass to show you a photo you remember him having taken of you many years ago. The one he always said he loved the most because of how carefree you were in it. “I never told you because... well, to tell you the truth I felt a little bit embarrassed about it. I've been- I've actually had your photo here before we even... Before we even got together. Years now, not much later after I met you.”

“You... oh.” you breathed out, blinking before you looked up from the compass to meet his eyes “I- I never opened it and Bucky... he must have never seen inside of it.” you whispered and he nodded his head “Oh my Gosh” you gasped, shaking your head and closing your eyes, feeling the guilt crawl up your chest. Steve didn't deserve any of it, not when he'd been really only a total sweetheart to you, a great boyfriend in every sense of the word “Gosh, I'm- Steve, I'm so sorry. I didn't think-”

“It's ok, it's ok. I don't blame you. Maybe... I actually blame myself, to be honest. I should have told you, should not have let you have doubts over something like this. I should not let you doubt how I feel about you, how much I love you and always will, not for a second. That's not how relationships work, not how they should work and I'm a terrible boyfriend for making you go through this.” he took your hand in his “And Peggy... Peggy is in the past, that's where she stays, and I am thankful for that because if it wasn't for all this, then I would not have met you.”

“You're a great boyfriend, the best one I could ever get, honey. I'm-” you sighed heavily, resting your head on his chest “I shouldn't have kept it inside me either. I knew about the compass for a long time now but didn't say a thing. If I had told you about then I would know the truth and then-”

“There's no reason to worry about what ifs, not now. What we really should worry about is something else entirely. And I'm beginning to think that there will be no easy way to solve that one.” he whispered in a low, grave voice that truth was put back a heavier weight on your shoulders.

“Yeah, no surprise my brother would think that you were going to stay back with her.” you let out a shaky breath, pulling away from your boyfriend just a bit “Oh gosh...” your eyes widened “He thought you were hooked on Peggy all this time and that I- Steve, he must have also thought you were going to hurt me. Hurt me worse than before.”

“He- what?”

“I- I didn't pay much attention though I guess I was mostly getting carried away by my own wishful thinking. Bucky once- Well, we more or less have had conversations about you and me, more than once. But there was that time when Bucky really seemed interested in my... feelings about you, whether they were entirely friendly as we let him think, or not.”

“And?” he frowned.

“I don't know what I let on, what it looked like to him because he can read me so well but- but the most possible scenario is that... he thought I was pining after you and that you were hooked on Peggy. Thinking that you would stay back with her he must have imagined I would be hurt so now...”

“Now he's confused and weary and he won't even believe me when I tell him that I love you. If I am to tell him about us, he'll think I am probably looking for an excuse to get over Peggy. Great.” he huffed, dragging a hand down his face.

You groaned, shaking your head before laying completely down on the couch “Why must everything be so hard?” you buried your face in your hands “I just want my brother to know about us, accept it and be happy about us just like that, like magic. Why can't that be reality the second I open my eyes?”

“Cause I've fucked it up, that's why.” he said and you chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Language?” you asked softly and he shook his head, his arms sneaking around your waist as he rested his chin on your chest and looked up at you through his lashes.

“I think we've already established that that's far from the case anymore.” he pointed out and you couldn't hold back a chuckle.

“Oh yeah, let's not forget to tell my brother about it too. I would love nothing more than to see him find out just how much bad language and dirty talking you can do while doing exactly what you said before. Fuc-”

“Alright, let's not get that carried away, shall we? Besides, I didn't know you would like your boyfriend to be murdered on the spot by his best friend so much. Because that's what is gonna happen.” he pointed out and you sighed.

You groaned once more “I had almost forgotten that that's the reality I'm living in.”

“Well, that... I could probably help with for once.” he whispered, leaning up to kiss under your jaw “And afterwards I'll fix everything else, talk to Bucky and tell him everything about us.”

“Honey, really I love the effort but, how about we don't talk about my brother anymore, yeah? Especially while you're between my legs.” you asked with a smirk, feeling his chest rumble with a laugh against your as he moved his lips over your neck all the way up to your lips.

“Think you can keep my mouth occupied so that I don't bring him up again?” he looked a you, raising an eyebrow and this time you couldn't help your own laugh.

“Think I can come up with a few interesting options, actually.” your lips were closer to his “Though it would involve less clothes, sadly.”

“Sadly.” he grinned, his lips finding yours in the kind of kiss you had so many times before found yourself getting lost. The kind of kiss that you could gladly enjoy for hours but which, this time, didn't even last more than three seconds.

“Sadly indeed.”

Hearing the third voice in the room which you really didn't expect anyone else for at least the next couple hours, was a great surprise. But to hear that specific voice didn't just make you jump in surprise, but actually push Steve away as if electricity shot right through you.

“Buck?” Steve asked in a low, gruff voice, as he looked up over the back of the couch.

“What the hell are you doing?” your brother's voice was unlike what you had ever heard him and it made you take in a shaky breath.

“Bucky, no listen we can explain, we-”

“I wasn't talking to you. You and I will have a conversation later. For now, I'm asking my best bud-” he turned to look at Steve and if looks could kill then Steve wouldn't be alive anymore. The icy glare made your own eyes widen “What the fuck are you doing with my sister?”

“Calm down, Bucky, there is a very simple explanation. If you'd just calm down a bit-”

“Don't tell me to calm down, Rogers, or so help me. You will see exactly what I was taught as a winter soldier. Especially if you don't take your hands off my sister, right now!”

“Alright-” Steve did as told, his own features darkening as he got more serious. Though nothing was as scary as looking at your brother at that time. And the worst part was that you weren't scared for yourself, but Steve. He could hurt him real bad if he wanted to, if he got any more angry and it could easily happen when you and your happiness were involved. You were each other's only family and while you were only adopted, that didn't lessen your bond in the least bit.

“Alright, I'll keep my distance and everything so long as you promise not to do anything rash and just sit for a moment to listen to me, yeah?”

“Listen huh? I'd love to see what kind of excuse you're gonna come up with for this.” he scoffed, shaking his head “I don't need any excuses, Steve. I know this exactly for what it is, which is exactly why you are gonna stay the hell away from my sister and then-” he paused to look at Steve, practically fuming in that moment unlike the blonde who was keeping his calm “You and I will have a good long talk. Before you never see her again, that is.”

“Buck, you gotta hear me out. And if not me-” Steve clenched his fists for a moment “If not me, then at least listen to your sister. This is not how we planned for it to go but everything will make sense once you give us a chance. Fighting won't solve a thing.”

“I'm pretty serious to test that out. It sure will make me feel a whole lotta better afterwards.” Bucky narrowed his eyes at his friend.

“Buck.” Steve clenched his jaw, letting out a sigh as he shook his head “This won't solve anything. You have to sit down, calm down and listen. Please this is not-”

“What it looks like? Yeah, I think I already got the idea. I saw it for what it really is.”

“You got shit, Bucky, and I'm tired of listening to you threatening my boyfriend like that anymore.” you huffed, walking away from Steve to stand between him and your brother “For the love of, we didn't want you to find out like this. I mean, you shouldn't even be here, so don't blame us for it! Weren't you and Sam working today anyway? It's not like we were prepared to!”

“Don't call him that. Don't.” he looked back at you only for a moment before he set his eyes on Steve again “He's not and sure as hell is not going to be that, not as long as it is up to me.”

“Well, too bad it ain't. And too bad it hasn't been for the past two years, Bucky, because newsflash: We've been dating for seven years already now.” you said, fast and without any attempt to sugar-coat it or make an introduction, instead crossed your arms over your chest and watched his eyes widen as his head snapped in your direction “And even if we weren't, I wasn't gonna ask for your opinion on who I should love. Your approval, yes it matters, but not your opinion.”

“You- what?” he gasped in shock, the surprise on his face and voice managing to make every hint of anger fade away instantly.

“Exactly that. Seven years now.” you shrugged, watching his wide eyes jump from you to Steve and back at you “Steve and I have been dating all this time and we didn't know how to tell you.”

“Seven years?!” he nearly exclaimed but you only relaxed more when you saw there was little to no anger present anymore.

“Seven years minus some actually.” Steve said softly “In a week it's gonna be seven.”

“Shit” your eyes widened “I almost forgot. I gotta go get you something. You think that shop by the corner is gonna be open this week? Cause I saw the owner had to close it cause of-”

“Hey, hey focus, ok? That's not the point here. Shop's gonna open up. I don't know if you're still gonna have a boyfriend to give a gift to that is. So just look at me here and try to explain this a little bit better. You two have been dating, without me or anyone else knowing, for seven whole years and some more?”

“Well, Peter does. I mean, he nearly walked in on us so he probably wants to forget it too, so I'm guessing that doesn't count.” you shrugged, but sighed with a roll of your eyes when your brother gave you a hard look “Alright, young Luke Skywalker, chill out, will you? And you're not going to do anything to Steve, not when you know that all is good between him and I. Matter of fact-” you took hold of your brother's hand to make sure you had his full attention and that he wouldn't do anything rush “Everything is better than ever before in my life. I am better. Happier, happier than I have ever been before and all of it thanks to him, Bucky. All thanks to him.”

“You-” the words had the exact effect you were hoping for; it was like a switch was flipped inside him and his features softened more than ever before as he met your eyes “How?” he asked in a soft, low voice and you couldn't help but laugh softly.

“How? It's easy Buck.” you took a step forward, all the while keeping eye-contact to make sure you got your point across with all the honesty you could master “I am in love. Truly, utterly and helplessly in love. For the first time in my life, I know it's the real thing. And I- I want you to be happy for me, not angry o-or bitter. Because Steve has never done a single thing to hurt me in all these years. And if you're concerned over just how much Steve really loves me, well, the idiot's been carrying a photo he took of me for years now and looking at it when he thought nobody was around so-” you shrugged softly, giving your brother a reassuring smile.

“I just-” Bucky blinked several times, shock or surprise didn't seem to be enough to cover up what he felt. He looked at Steve, frowning for a moment “I thought-”

“That I was hooked on Peggy? That I was gonna stay back in time with her? Bucky I never, not even once, not even for a split second thought of giving up what I have here for anything else in the world. I-” he took a step forward, and as if reading his mind, you pulled away from your brother and stood by your boyfriend's side as he took your hand in his and locked fingers with yours all the while focusing on your brother “I love you sister more than anything in my life. More than my own life. And while I would fight anyone for her... you are someone that I would very much like to have on my side, instead of the opposite.”

“I'm just-” Bucky groaned, shaking his head “I'm so damn confused. You came back Steve and I was so certain you and Peggy-” he stopped when he noticed the hint of sadness on your face so he referred from going on “I mean, I had seen the look you were giving (Y/n), alright I'm not an idiot. And I've taken notice of the touches too. But I never thought-”

“You imagined he was using me to get over her?” you whispered, getting both their attention but you gave Steve a small squeeze hoping he'd understand that you didn't feel that way and that you knew the truth.

“Well-” Bucky sighed “To tell you the truth, yes, that's exactly it.”

“Buck” Steve took a step forward, still holding your hand “You've know me your whole life so you can tell when I say that I would rather die before I dared hurt your sister in that kind of way and that bad, is true and no exaggeration. So please believe me when I say I want to keep making her happy while I have your blessing.”

“I mean, you're Captain America, how much better can it get? Any brother would approve of that.” you said with a soft smile at your boyfriend and he let out a nervous laugh.

“Well, I'm not just any brother. So the title ain't gonna cut it. But, you're a grown up woman, much as it is hard for me to admit, and you are free to make your own choices. I'm not going to stand in the way, not when you...” he trailed off for a moment, smiling at you almost in disbelief to see how happy you really were and standing by his best friend's side at that “No, I'm glad and more than relieved.”

“So that means we're good, right?” you asked hopefully “You're not gonna beat the crap out of my boyfriend?”

“Yes and no.” his eyes hardened but not in any threatening way, more protective than anything else “You're not off the hook. And you and I are gonna have a long and way overdue conversation, Rogers. Come on, move.”

“Where to?” Steve frowned.

“The training room. Been a long while since we trained together, right bud?” he said far-from-innocently before leaving the room.

“He's gonna beat the crap out of me.” Steve sighed, shaking his head.

“If it's any comfort... I'll patch you up later and you could kiss me all you want?”

[august-anon]

Tickletober Day 13 - Wake up!

Fun fact: this is the very first fic I wrote when prepping for tickletober and that's why it's so plot-heavy lol. It's also one of my favorite fics I've written for tickletober, so I hope you guys enjoy it! Also, sorry for the bit of angst lol

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Ship(s): platonic Pines fam

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Dipper, Lee!Mabel, Ler!Stan (also Ford is here briefly)

Word Count: 1691 words

Summary: Stan may have difficulty recalling anything now, but at least he knows the kids will be a constant.

[ao3 link]

-----------------------------------

Stan sat at the kitchen table, staring down at Mabel’s scrapbook and flipping through pages. He hadn’t been able to stop since she’d given it to him a few days ago, after they all realized how much it had started helping his memory.

The thing was, Stan couldn’t remember much beyond this past summer, and even that was fractured at best. Ford told him stories, of course. Their mom, their dad, their brother. He’d told Stan about the Stan ‘O War, about how they’d always been there for each other, about shenanigans the two of them had gotten into. Stories from Ford’s perspective could only do so much, though. And Stan wasn’t as clueless as Ford thought he was, he could clearly see that Ford was holding a lot back.

Something had happened between the two of them. Possibly multiple somethings. And not good somethings, seeing as Ford wouldn’t crack.

It was disorienting and uncomfortable, to have so much of his life blank. He forgot names, faces, places. He had lapses, even with memories they thought he’d recovered permanently. Sometimes, on bad nights, Stan forgot who he was entirely again, and where he was, and why this strange man that looked like him was trying to tell him to calm down.

He didn’t know why he gave it all up. Stan’s family said, repeatedly, that what he did saved them, all of them. Even people he didn’t know or couldn’t remember. Stan wished that it brought him peace, knowing that, but it never did. He did know, though, that if it came down to it, he would probably make the same choice again in a heartbeat.

No one was hurting those kids, or his brother, ever again. Not if he could help it.

“Stanley?” Someone called from nearby. Stan got the notion that it wasn’t the first time they’d tried to get his attention.

He glanced up, seeing Ford in the doorway to the kitchen. He chuckled, slipping into a nonchalant persona that felt comfortably familiar, even if he hardly remembered it.

“Sorry, lost in thought, I guess,” he said, knocking a fist against his forehead. “Didja need something?”

Ford’s smile was tight around his eyes, like he knew exactly what Stan had been lost in thought about. “No, not at all.”

An awkward silence spread through the room again and an anxious feeling rose up in Stan’s chest. Was he supposed to be remembering something? Was this another routine he forgot, and now he was messing up the steps?

“Why don’t you go wake the kids?” Ford offered, cutting through the silence. “I can make us all breakfast. It’s starting to get late, anyway.”

Stan snorted. “Eight thirty is hardly late, Poindexter,” he said, but he was already rising from the table even as he said it, closing the scrapbook as he went.

Sure, the kids would probably be a bit grumpy. He would too, being woken up so early during a day off, especially in summer, but it gave Stan a task. Something to do that would (hopefully) be hard to mess up, memory or not. 

So Stan dragged himself up the stairs to the attic and quietly pushed open the door to the kids’ room. He sighed when he saw the two of them curled up together in Dipper’s bed. He wasn’t surprised that they were having nightmares. He couldn’t fall asleep either, most nights, but instead of a face or voice haunting him, he had no name to put to his tormentor. Stan didn’t know if that made it easier or harder.

He heard them shuffling around at night when he couldn’t sleep, whispers carrying down through the old wooden house. Never enough for the words to travel, though, just the tone: angry, scared, tired, resigned. These kids acted far too old for their age.

Stan was rather tempted to just leave them and let them sleep. They clearly weren’t sleeping any better than him or Ford, the dark bruises under their eyes only accentuated by the shadows from the window. Really, Stan doubted anyone had been sleeping well, ever since what the town had dubbed “Weirdmaggedon.”

Maybe the kids would benefit from some time outside their realms of nightmares. He could already see Mabel’s face scrunching up in fear.

But how did he wake them? How did one wake an almost-teenager? Shake them? Poke them until they got annoyed enough to open their eyes? Talk really loud until it drew them out of dreamland? None of that seemed like it would lead to very happy children.

Stan sighed again and quietly entered the room, moving to stand next to the bed. Mabel made a distressed sound in her sleep and Stan couldn’t help but let out a sympathetic hum, tucking some of her tangled hair behind her ear. Mabel scrunched up her shoulder weird and a smile briefly tugged at her lips.

Now there was an idea.

Stan may not have had much memory left, but he knew a ticklish kid when he saw them. It felt a little rude to just tickle them right awake, though. Stan figured that would be pretty startling, while coming out of a nightmare. Instead he gently grabbed each of their shoulders and carefully shook them.

“Kids,” Stan said, voice low but not quite a whisper. “Kids, it’s time to wake up.”

Mabel’s face scrunched up, this time in annoyance and not fear. “Grunkle Stan, no,” she moaned, slurring her words in her half-asleep state and rolling over to bury her face in a pillow.

“Too early,” Dipper grumbled, and pulled the blanket over both of their heads.

Stan couldn’t help but chuckle. “Alright, maybe it is a bit early for grumpy pre-teens. But you know who it’s not too early for?”

Twins gasps sounded from under the blanket, and Stan got the distinct feeling that they’d gone through this song and dance before. Well, at least it was reassuring that his personality didn’t seem to have changed much, despite the gaps in memory.

“Grunkle Stan, wait!” Mabel cried, and it already sounded like she was laughing.

“No, no!” Dipper yelled, but his voice was giddy and excited.

“There’s no Grunkle Stan, here,” Stan growled, ripping the blanket off the two of them. “There’s only… the Tickle Monster!”

Dipper and Mabel shrieked as Stan lunged.

Even if Stan himself didn’t remember, it seemed like his fingers did. One hand clawed into Dipper’s stomach, making him squawk and cackle, while the other quickly buried itself up under Mabel’s arm, making her shriek and squeal. Stan couldn’t help but laugh along with the two of them, their laughter being painfully contagious.

“Hey,” Stan said, a goofy grin spreading across his lips. “Did you know, my ex-wife still misses me--”

Dipper and Mabel both groaned through their laughter.

“But her aim is getting better!”

Stan laughed, and he was certain that if the kids weren’t laughing too hard to talk, they would be making the usual assortment of annoyed comments. 

“Wow, kids, I know I’m funny, but I didn’t know my jokes were that good.”

Mabel’s legs had started kicking, trying to propel her away from the tickling fingers, while Dipper seemed to curl in on himself as he snorted and cackled. It was an interesting dichotomy, with them being twins, and reminded Stan a lot of him and Ford when they were younger--

Well well, looks like goofing off did some good for Stan, after all.

But Stan decided that he had plenty of time to focus on that, later. For now, he needed to finish these kids off and get them down to breakfast. Preferably soon, because the realization that Ford could not cook and would likely burn the Shack down had also just hit him.

Stan leaned down, deciding to do his big finish on Dipper first. He pushed Dipper’s legs back down and pulled up his sleep shirt just enough to see his belly. Then, he took a deep breath and blew the biggest raspberry he could in the center of Dipper’s stomach, making sure to shake his head and rub his stubble in on it, and almost breaking to laugh at the near-scream that left Dipper’s lips. He blew a handful of smaller raspberries in a few random places before pulling back and letting Dipper breathe.

Turning toward Mabel, she had already tilted her head back like she knew what to expect. And now that he thought about it, Stan did seem to be getting a weird sense of deja-vu, so maybe this had been routine, before. Stan darted forward to blow a big raspberry against the side of her neck, hoping he didn’t go deaf from her shrill laughter right next to his ear, and blew a handful of smaller raspberries as he moved to the other side of it. There, he blew one last big raspberry before pulling back.

Stan sat on the edge of the bed as the kids caught their breath. They recovered faster than he expected, and Stan suddenly found himself tackled backwards to the bed, the kids laughing as they piled on top of him. Stan laughed, too.

“Good morning, Grunkle Stan!” Mabel yelled, far too loudly for having been asleep just moments before.

“Good morning!” Dipper echoed at a much lower volume.

“Come on,” he said. “We’d better get down to the kitchen before Ford blows the whole place up. I’m sure you two could convince him to step away from the stove long enough for me to make something.”

Dipper and Mabel both gave him incredibly mischievous looks before rushing out of the room without another word. Stan huffed out a breath, watching them go. Then, he quickly rose to follow them. Either his brother was about to get absolutely wrecked by two 12-year-olds, or those kids were about to have quite the round two (six fingers did wonders for tickling skills, based on what was coming back to Stan) and he didn’t want to miss a moment of either scenario.

After all, he knew more than anyone, now, that the memories he made with his family were beyond precious.

[pekorosu]

just a lil “if ash lived” headcanon that i need to unload somewhere bc i've been holding it in for a long time

- set within the manga ‘verse

- takes place when ash and eiji are in their early 30s... so around the mid 1990s?

- i don’t get the weird animanga trope where older = longer hair, so they’re gonna look the same... maybe with slightly shorter hair bc they get regular haircuts now 

- (note: i've always interpreted long-haired eiji as symbolic of the fact that he couldn't move on from ash’s death)

- ash and eiji will continue living in the states, idk if still in NYC or somewhere else. they’ll move around a lot though.

- ash will mostly remain underground as he had to fake his death after lao’s stab, but he does it in a "hiding in plain sight" kind of way. only a handful of people know he’s still alive.  

- ash spends most of his time on the computer, mostly coding, hacking, being a nerd, among other fun stuff.

- he also takes on “jobs” anonymously, and occasionally from max (who’s still into investigative journalism) when he needs info that can only be obtained through Dubious Means.

- i also like to think that ash's a bit of a hacker robin hood lol. but he isn’t doing it purely out of the goodness of his heart, as part of it is a subconscious need to atone for his “sins” and cleanse the gnawing and persistent feeling of shame that gets amplified when he’s around eiji.

- also whatever he’s up to these days would ofc still be Highly Dangerous and Illegal, but it keeps him busy and would sate the part of him that’s still hungry for adrenaline without him having to engage in stuff like active bloodshed or substance abuse. basically that’s how i imagine he’d try to cope with life the only way he knows.

- eiji continues to do photography and other part time gigs bc he does not like the idea of mooching off ash forever, and he slowly makes a name for himself.

- ash and eiji live together but they are NOT together in a romantic sense... not yet >:)

- therefore eiji will probably date other people in the meantime, which gets a little troublesome bc it's not like he can bring them home to where his secret Very Important Friend is secretly hiding.

- ash will maybe have one-night stands every now and then. or not. idk. this isn’t a very important detail.

- anyway there will be lots of clueless but mutual pining :)

- ash especially, is of the opinion that they should start living separately bc someone will eventually track him down, maybe someone who has a past or present grudge on him. combined with his current activities, it’s only a matter of time before eiji would unwittingly get dragged into his problems again.

- eiji is v adamantly against that plan bc he's sorta developed a debilitating sense of paranoia that ash might just get killed somewhere while he’s not looking. not that ash isn’t paranoid either, but his insecurities often tip the scale over to “eiji is safer away from me” than “with me”.

- basically they’re doing their whole “stay. no, leave. no, stay” dance all over again, but like, dragged out over MANY YEARS.

- you thought eiji’s letter would’ve cleared up any crossed wires? 

- HELL NO

- like yea, there was probably a beautiful honeymoon period of about a year or two after they reunited, before their respective trauma and issues started creeping in and fucking things up again.

- esp on ash’s end, i think he’d engage in a lot of self-sabotage. and eiji is only human, he has his own limits and baggage too.

- there will be a government conspiracy plotline but on a smaller scale compared to canon that i am unfortunately not knowledgeable enough to worldbuild on, but it will probably have something to do with cybercrime/cyberterrorism/stuff like that bc it needs to tie in with ash's hacking shenanigans.

- i've heard that sing ends up becoming some sorta political big shot in yasha? idk, i haven't read it myself, but since china’s rising status was mentioned in GoL i imagine the plot should relate to that somehow.

- therefore sing would also get to be in this story! 

- i guess this means yut-lung would come into the picture at some point as well, and it would be a good opportunity for a redemption arc but i haven’t given it much of a thought bc i’m indifferent to his character orz SORRY.

- look i can’t do plot, but i am basically envisioning a political thriller with a side of slow burn romance (wait, you mean like a rehash of canon?)

- i’m thinking max is the one who kicks off the story by bringing something fishy to ash, and they just end up uncovering more and more and MORE stuff as they keep going.

- so for like 80% of the story, ash and eiji will be separated bc ash will be busy spying or infiltrating something... and being at the center of Plot Things, while max and eiji will be more on the outside dealing with the journalist side of things. i’m fond of max-ash interactions but i’m also REALLY CURIOUS about max-eiji’s dynamic :D

- meanwhile sing will be like, half in and half out i imagine. he's versatile like that lol

- ...i did NOT mean that in a dirty way

- anyway, this will provide ash and eiji ample space to work out their issues separately, as i think living in close quarters for so many years has actually been aggravating them. ofc those issues don’t get 100% resolved by the end, but some time apart from each other to cool off and spend with other people should provide a bit of perspective.

- i want ash to make some NEW FRIENDS (!!!) that are on the same wavelength as him bc there’s only so much that he can tell eiji and i’m sure he gets rather lonely, so there will be OCs that he will meet in the middle of Plot Things.

- ash will get trapped at some point. preferably with sing so they can have a much needed heart-to-heart talk. they’ll have a lot to hash out, ranging from the events in BF, shorter’s and lao’s death, all the way to ash’s love life. 

- btw i like the idea of eiji and sing being close drinking buddies who confide in one another but ash is kinda, justalittle, not very happy about that LOL 

- i mean, it's not like eiji can confide in ash when ash is the topic at hand, ya get me? as for sing, he’s similar to ash in the sense that they live dangerous lives, so i imagine he just finds it nice to be able to hang out with someone mundane like eiji every now and then.

- not to say that ash and sing aren’t talking to each other at all, but i think they’d have a bit of a rift between them. sing probably does feel some resentment, both at ash for killing lao AND at himself bc he knows deep down that given a choice, he would’ve saved ash over his own brother. ash can sense that tortured vibe, so eiji’s like their middle man. AND THAT’S WHY THEY NEED A HEART-TO-HEART TALK

- (SIDE NOTE: i want akira to have a role in this too. i actually have a separate headcanon that happens prior to this story... kinda like an alternate GoL? 

akira goes to the states to visit eiji, but ash is also there, yeah? akira and ash start out sorta prickly with each other bc ash is all weird and standoffish and always cooped up in his room. she probably mistook him as a jobless model mooching off eiji at first since 1) eiji and ibe have never spoken about him back in japan (cuz he’s supposed to be dead), 2) why would eiji be living with some random hot guy? unless they met during one of his photography gigs? right??? 

and then she ends up witnessing them in the middle of a tiff, which makes her not like ash even more bc HOW DARE HE YELL AT POOR OKUMURA-SAN??? UNGRATEFUL JERK!!!

but over the course of her visit, she snoops around learns a bit about their history and gathers hints as to why their r’ship is kinda strained. also ash and akira somehow end up bonding (reluctantly) over their emotional insecurities and part on a friendly rivalry to win over eiji’s affections (which eiji is completely oblivious to. also akira may have been 100% serious but ash was just jokingly playing along with her (OR WAS HE???)). anyway long story short, ash teaches akira some cool tech/IT stuff along the way so that leads to her gaining an interest in the field. 

she won’t be able to do much in this story, but a minor role would be cool :)

 ^ a lighthearted gyoza-making scene amid all the angst)

- (SIDE NOTE #2: i ALSO want cain to feature in this, but bc canon provided very little bg info on him it’s hard for me to figure out where he’d fit. but i suppose that’s precisely why it would be great to include him, since i can just make up my own backstory! lol. for now, i think he should be connected to one of the new OCs to make him more central to the plot. or heck, he can be involved himself! ...yeah, i’m just salty about how cain was treated more like a convenient plot device compared to the other major side characters. we barely know anything about him even though he was one of ash’s most trusted allies. #caindeservedbetter2k20)

- anyway, back to the main story. ash (and his new "friends") barely escape where they’re held hostage. ash would be rusty with combat now as he’s spent the past few years doing only stealth work and being rather sedentary. 

- so there’ll be lotsa old man!ash jokes like them poking fun at him whenever he complains about his back hehe

- when they finally emerge outside they find themselves in the middle of nowhere! they then hijack a passing pickup truck and do a roadtrip back to civilisation. ROAD TRIP FTW

- at this point, quite some time has already passed and ash even has a fuzzy beard and mane and all. he’s standing at the back of the truck with a small smile on his face and the wind blowing in his hair, thinking GONNA GO BACK AND SEE EIJI, MISS HIM LOADS, HELL YEA 

- (bonus: this song and this scene is the catalyst for this entire headcanon btw)

(drew this about a year ago. i was trying to imitate the manga’s art style... and the ash i had in my mind was a little different. i’m too lazy to redraw, but he’s fuzzier now okay! MORE FUZZ! like an actual freakin LION!)

- meanwhile, eiji and max will get into some deep shit around this point? 

- eiji in the pic above was me imagining that the Bad Guys had tossed some damning evidence (eg. severed body part?) on the ground like “ash’s dead/ash’s in a lot of danger now so hand over all the info u have”

- and eiji and max are like. SHOOKETH

- this would be the 3rd time ash has “died” after all, and as they say... 3rd time's the charm...

- eiji almost gives in, but then max spits in their face like fuck no and then... yeah. they get beat up and taken away or something lol

- EDIT: hmm... what if the Bad Guy is someone IN the government, and he uses his power to get eiji and max arrested for aiding and abetting a wanted fugitive (ash). and then ash has to rescue them... JAILBREAK STYLE

- also it might be cool to introduce ash's mom somewhere in this story... maybe SHE'S the villain! mwahaha *drama intensifies*

- anyways they will get saved by ash and gang bc that’s just the way things go, BUT! only on the condition they already made it out at least 80% of the way bc GODDAMN IT👏LET👏EIJI👏BE👏BADASS👏FOR👏ONCE👏 

- (that is, after he overcomes the initial shock of ash possibly being dead again... again...... again............)

- there will ofc be moments of “oh my god, you’re okay” "i thought i lost you...!"

- something like this, because one can never have enough cheesy reunion scenes

- this will eventually lead to REVELATIONS (of the romantic kind, yes) 

- buuuut they will never say "i love you" directly to each other bc ash is too emotionally constipated and eiji is too japanese. it's okay, they will communicate it through heated stares 👀

- i would love for there to be a scene where they have to be separated again for Plot Reasons and ash sorta hesitantly goes all "...will you wait for me?" as a direct parallel to canon!eiji's "i'll be waiting" and it’s like,

- FINALLY! 

- FINALLY!!!!!!!!!! ash has finally allowed himself to ask for this, to let himself want it! 

- and eiji would be like OF COURSE I WILL YOU BIG DUMMY, ALWAYS AND FOREVER

- but i think it'd be hilarious if eiji pops up while ash's in the middle of the final showdown and ash's like WTF I TOLD YOU TO WAIT FOR ME and eiji's like I WAS WORRIED OKAY YOU WERE TAKING SO LONG

- idk how this is supposed to end...

- oh wait! since the plot is government-related, maybe Someone will be able to pull strings to wipe out ash’s criminal record (past and present) and give him a brand new 100% legal identity, as thanks for his efforts? or maybe ash (or sing) just does it himself somewhere along the way LOL. anyway, he’ll be able to start over with a fresh clean slate and finally work on recovery FOR REAL NOW. yes this is a happy ending AND it didn’t require him to go to japan /flips off canon

- ...i realise it’s never going to be that simple but W H A T E V E R

- (also they probably will visit japan in the future with that shiny new passport... gotta meet the in-laws and all y’know)

- who do i gotta pay to write this cheesy self-indulgent fic for me

[inevitably-johnlocked]

do you have any fics of john flirting with sherlock over text? maybe sherlock being utterly clueless? thank you & and much luv ❤️

Hi Nonny!!!

Ahhhhhhhhhh AGES ago, I did an Epistolary / Texting / Letters fic rec list, back before I had A System™, so it’s a bit messy but it is there :) I don’t have a lot of new ones to add to it, BUT I decided I would pull all the Texting fics from that list since I now have neater organization with tags and Chapters, and then just add my NEW fics onto that one, how about that? Would that be okay? It wouldn’t be specifically just flirting, but I think that the list is long overdue anyway!! Hope you like something on this one, and I’ll TRY to tag the flirting fics WITH flirting so that you can pick them out :) 

And as always, add your own fics, Lovelies!! <3

TEXTING AND SEXTING (JULY 2020)

See also:

Epistolary / Texting / Letters (My List, 2017)

First Meeting Via Internet / Phone / Letters (Mine)

Phone Sex & Texting (Alexx’s List)

Wrong Number Texting (Alexx’s List)

They Met Online or Texting (Alexx’s List)

Message Not Sent by Queerasil (K, 762 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, One-Sided Texting, Pining Sherlock) - Sherlock texts John after the fall and during the hiatus. The messages are sent, but never received. Sequel to WORDLOCKED, TSTM, and Wait, How Do You Play This Game Again?

Texts and Tea by JillianWatson1058 (K, 959 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Texting, Humour, Fluff, POV John, Cranky John) – A John who is woken up at 2:30 in the morning is not a happy John. Sherlock, frankly, doesn’t care. He just wants his tea.

Untouchable by greengrapegaze (T, 1,368 w., 1 Ch. || Pre-S3, UST/URT, Oblivious John, Lonely Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Emotional Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Pining Sherlock) – “He never would. Petty, childish, immature-bitter. Jealous. She had all that he wanted. All he could never have.” Part 1 of Steps to a Bittersweet Symphony

Yorkshire Gold by Tammany Tiger (K, 1,467 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Angst, Holmes Brothers, Open Ending, Grief, Implied Bondlock) – Mycroft may not mourn Sherlock's death-but even if he knows his brother lives, he's not without his own grief. It ain't easy being The British Government. But at least he's got good help. Set between the Fall and the Return.

Text Me When It's Over by immaculately-flawed  (K+, 1,937 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Humour, Post-TRF, Texting, Sort-Of Pining Sherlock) – After the fall Sherlock starts writing texts to John. Of course, he never sends them... Until he does by accident. Post Reichenbach fic but not angsty.

Denial Isn’t Just a River in Egypt by satanatemycat (T, 2,107 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Friendship, Texting, Bored/Cranky Sherlock) – In which John makes a bet with a co-worker. If he wins, she shuts up about him and Sherlock being a couple. If he loses… well, that doesn’t matter, because he won’t lose. Because he and Sherlock ARE NOT a couple. Right?

The Art Of Communication by StillWaters1 (T, 2,679 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, H/C) – Lestrade was used to getting odd, non sequitur texts from Sherlock. But when "John went out for milk" was followed by a terse "two hours ago," Lestrade immediately understood three things: John was missing, Sherlock was quietly panicking, and this could all end very, very badly.

Unquantifiable by 221b_hound (M, 2,799 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Grumpy John, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Pet Names, Texting, Sweet Sherlock, Princess Bride References) – John remains a terrible and foul-tempered patient, but he does try to make up for it with pet names and text message silliness. In the meantime, Sally Donovan visits Baker Street for a hint about the Milverton case, and has to deal with a Sherlock Holmes who can't find words big enough to thank her for saving John's life at the warehouse. For afters, there's a viewing of The Princess Bride. Part 33 of the Unkissed series

The Sweetest Taste In The World by crossroads (G, 3,121 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Jealous Sherlock, Fluff, Pining, Friends to Lovers) – The sweetest taste in the world is rarely ever the easiest to come by.

Entanglement by orphan_account (G, 3,218 w., 1 Ch. || Confessions, Physics, Metaphors, Texting, Pining, Christmas, Mind Palace, Sick Fic, Fluff, Humour, Praise Kink) - On Christmas Eve, snow covers London, John visits Harry, and Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson untangle some knots.

Come home. by hudders-and-hiddles (huddersandhiddles) (E, 3,763 w., 1 Ch. || Texting / Sexting, Lonely Sherlock, Nude Photos, Pining, Fluff & Smut) – When John leaves for a medical conference, Sherlock tries to entice him back home.

Happy anniversary by Salambo06 (E, 3,772 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Vulnerable Sherlock, Wedding Anniversary, Anal, Texting, Lingerie) – John inhaled deeply, feeling his cock pulse under the silk gown, and he let his eyes travel on the lean body in front of him. Sherlock was kneeling on the bed, their bed, and the picture had been taken so John could perfectly see his bare chest and pelvis. But what mattered most, what made John harden rather quickly, was the pair of panties Sherlock was wearing in the picture. Black, string over each hip and laces that outlined Sherlock’s erect cock barely hidden under the soft underwear.

Lingerie by Sexxica (E, 4,135 w., 1 Ch. || Valentine’s Day, Lingerie / Women’s Underwear, Mildly Public Masturbation, Picture Texting / Sexting, Bottomlock, Body Worship, Anal Sex / Fingering, Rimming, Orgasm Delay / Denial, Est. Rel.) – It's Valentines Day and Sherlock is taking John to Angelo's for dinner. Sherlock also happens to be wearing a garter belt, stockings and a rather small pair of women's underwear under his clothes. There's no dessert at Angelo's because John needs to get Sherlock home just as quickly as he can before they both lose their minds entirely.

If He Knows by shamelessmash (M, 4,513 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3 Fic, Pining Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Angst, First Person Sherlock POV, Texting, Internal Monologue, Blanket Forts) – I imagine mornings: John handing me a cup of tea, hair sticking out at odd angles. How he would bend down to kiss me, smiling fondly as he pulls away. The way his skin crinkles at the corner of his eyes, the way his skin looks in the morning light. The soft sigh as he sits in his chair with the morning paper, the way his toes curl in the carpet, the way he rolls his shoulders before sinking deeper into his seat. I watch him, how he is when he is content, as it should be. As he deserves. Happy. With me.

Tease You Till You Come by phoenix089 (E, 6,090 w., 1 Ch. || First Time, Clueless Sherlock, Sexting/Texting) – Initially, Sherlock was rather put out by John's lack of presence on the case. But then he starts to receive pictures, several of them, of an unexpected nature. The case is forgotten rather quickly after that.

What Did I Do Wrong? by Starlight05 (T, 7,880 w., 5 Ch. || Hurt Comfort, Angst, John Whump, Hospitalization, Worried Sherlock, Emotional Turmoil, Nightmares, Sherlock Being Dumb) - After John almost dies on a case, Sherlock disappears. So John is left to figure out what he can do to get his best friend back. Meanwhile Sherlock, guilt-ridden and willingly alone, is doing everything he can to stay away.

Bread and Wine and Curry Once a Week by cwb (E, 8,737 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Stroppy Sherlock, Love Letters, POV John) – Sherlock asks John for relationship advice. Little does he know that it’s him that Sherlock is in love with.

A Building of Bridges by Unique (K, 12,325 w., 3 Ch. || Drama, Alternate First Meeting, John’s PTSD / Flashbacks, Mute John, Dialogue-Heavy, Caring Sherlock, Friendship) – No one would ever send Sherlock in to diffuse a stand-off; but on one unlikely day, that's exactly what happened. "Congratulations, Lestrade," he called out sarcastically. "You're traumatizing a war veteran."

A Brand of Gold by aquabelacqua (M, 12,757 w., 1 Ch. || Mutual Pining, POV John, Phone Sex, Texting, Masturbation, Long Distance, Drunk Texting) – What am I doing? he wondered. The answer came back at once: Flirting. He let the vital, missing piece snap into place as surely and as cleanly as if it had always been there. He was flirting with Sherlock Holmes.

Traitor's Gate by roane (E, 17,714 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, Case Fic, Mystery, Bets and Wagers, Undercover for a Case, BAMF John, Scientist Sherlock, Teasing, Established Relationship, Military Base, Sexting/Texting, Military/Uniform Kink, Frottage, Dirty Sex, Anal, Bottomlock) – John and Sherlock go undercover at a top secret government lab to find out who is selling research. John is back in uniform and Sherlock is back in a laboratory, but they have to pose as strangers. Sherlock thinks he'll have an easy time of it, but John has his doubts. It's up to them to find out who is responsible for putting a dangerous weapon in the wrong hands, and try to keep their hands off each other at the same time.

The Real Meaning of Idioms by feverishsea (T, 21,691 w., 13 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Texting, Humour, Post-TRF, Awkward Romance, Idiots in Love) - After two weeks away, John finally texts Sherlock. He doesn’t expect Sherlock to respond. He doesn’t expect Sherlock to keep texting him. And he really doesn’t expect things to spiral out of control so rapidly.

A Study In Auto-Signatures, Sniper Dolphins, and Sex Holidays by cwb (E, 32,689 w., 8 Ch. || Case Fic, Post S3, Evil Mary, Dev. Rel., Beach Holidays, Confused Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Honeymoon, Epistolary, Bottomlock, First Kiss / Time, Fluff, Secret Agents, BAMF!John) – John and Mary go on their sex holiday, and Sherlock is grumpy and pining about it. Part 1 of HOT DOLPHIN SEX

A Week is Just Seven Days Isn't It? by scifigrl47 (T, 39,906 w., 4 Ch. || Humour, Friendship/Bromance, Stroppy/Bored Sherlock, Undercover/Army John, Texting, Pining-ish Sherlock, John Whump) – When John heads overseas for a week, Sherlock's forced to fend for himself. It goes about as well as anyone could have anticipated. Which is to say, very, very poorly. Don't worry, things'll be fine in just seven days.

Definitions by siennna (T, 101,528 w., 12 of ? Ch. || Dev. Rel., Pining, Fluff and Romance, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Fluff, Cuddles) – Sherlock’s journey in defining his flat mate and stumbling through the muddled world of emotion. {{This feels complete; the chapter count is listed as ? but I feel like it is done}}

[evabellasworld]

Written in the Stars

For @thecl0wnwars, this is my gift for you as past of the @starwarssecretsanta event. Thank you to @lilhawkeye3 for organising this event. I really enjoyed it so far.

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Summary: Bly and Aayla were stargazing after a brutal battle while longing for the war to end

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Laying on top of the soft, emerald grass, Bly rested his head on top of his arms and focused on the night sky, which was encrusted with sparkling stars and an illuminating sapphire moon.

Two, four, six, eight, he muttered to himself, pointing his finger slightly towards the horizon. The clone commander of the 327th Battalion wondered the exact number of stars that he's gazing at this moment.

With only the crickets chirping in his surroundings and the rest of his men asleep in their tents, Bly thanked the Maker that he gets to spend his alone time counting all the stars in the sky, since he hardly had the privilege to do so.

Though he wished that his Jedi General was laying beside him, instead of resting after a long day at the battlefield, with bodies of his dead brothers and sisters laying cold on the ground and an orchestra of blasters and explosions deafening Bly, who was an unwilling actor in this play, along with his troops.

It was his duty to fight for freedom and justice so that one day, the people of the Galactic Republic will live in peace and prosperity. And yet, Bly finds himself doubting whether the war was worth the lives that were lost during the brutal battle.

Moments ago, Aayla was leading him and his troops to fight against the Separatist invasion on Reza, which was a planet known for exporting corn. The prairie land, with a barren grassland and a small town nearby, was engulfed in flames along with the sea of cornfields.

With the screams of the civilians that were caught in between, Bly could never forgive himself for watching as a child got shot by the battle droids and not being able to save him from the Grim Reaper.

But Aayla, on the other hand, had it worse. As a Jedi, she not only sensed their emotion but absorbed the pain that the villagers had to suffer. It got to the point that a fellow Jedi Knight, Eva Bella Young, suffered a seizure from the intense emotion.

He pines as he glanced at the mesmerizing painting that the Maker has blessed him in the sky. He has travelled from planet to planet and yet, he took the beauty of the universe for granted. 

Growing up in Kamino, the only thing that Bly was taught was to fight until you die. Nothing more, nothing less. It wasn't until he was assigned to Aayla that he learned to appreciate everything before it was gone forever in his life. His brothers, his sisters, his best friends, and Aayla.

Like the blue moon, he finds her attractive. With blue skin and luscious lips, Bly was struck by her looks, and his feeling for her was more intense when he saw how she treated his brothers and sisters, especially Ahri.

Whenever Bly wanted to speak to Aayla alone, his vod’ika, Ahri, would always be asking her stupid questions, like how to find a book in the library or how to strike a conversation with a woman she met at the bar.

He envies them for trying to steal her attention from time to time, but he knows that jealousy would do no good except poisoning his own heart. He knows that having a sense of entitlement is not the way to have around a woman like Aayla. But yet, he watches most romance movies that his batchmate, Ares recommended to him and he noticed that the characters were constantly pining for each other’s love, ignoring the people around them.

He thought those couples in the movies were selfish and had little chemistry with each other. From what Odd Eye told him, relationships take years to build and seconds to crumble. The thought of losing Aayla in the war scares him as if he has enough of seeing his own troops dying and suffering in pain.

“Bly?” he heard a familiar voice calling him. “Are you alright?” 

The commander turned around and saw Aayla standing behind him, her Jedi robes wrapped with her cloak. Bly glanced at her with awe as her beauty shone underneath the blue moon. Her eyes sparkled as her gentle smile warms his heart, making him unsure of his words towards her. “Can’t sleep?”

“Not really,” she answered honestly as she sat beside him, turning his cheeks deep red. “I’ve been thinking about the battle today. It was horrifying to see the villagers suffer in the middle of the battle.”

“Yeah, it was awful,” Bly let out a sorrowful sigh. “They don’t deserve to be caught in the middle of the battle.”

“Unfortunately, that is the cost of the war. It’s always the good ones that had to die first, and all because we want peace in the galaxy.”

Bly hates to agree with that statement that Aayla but she has a point, even if it hurts him personally. "People don't seem to understand what we have to go through, and yet, here we are."

"That is true, though people have a point about the war. All it does is take lives after lives until there are no more to take. Even the ones that survived aren't the same anymore."

That also rings true to him. Bly himself had gone through so many battles. Day by day, he wished that the Reaper would visit him instead of his brothers and sisters. He felt sick to the stomach whenever he had to list down every clone trooper who perished in his report. They may be engineered to kill droids but deep down, those men and women have feelings as well. All those wishes that they made within themselves, were never accomplished.

“Aayla,” he stuttered. “Do you ever wish that you could turn back time and save everyone you loved from dying?”

“Sometimes I do,” Aayla admitted. “I sometimes wished that I could save my friends from death, but in the end, there was nothing we could do except to mourn for them and move on with our lives. It’s not good if you often dwell with your own grief.”

“I see, but do you always blame yourself for watching them die without being able to do anything at all?”

Through the Force, the Twi’lek Jedi sensed turmoil within Bly. His questions about wanting to save his brothers and sisters alarmed her, though, not in a severe manner. She understood the weight he had to carry as the commander of the 327th Battalion. As a Jedi General and peacekeeper, she felt the same burden as well, even without training in leading an army. 

“Bly, if something is bothering you, you can always talk to me,” she assured him, brushing her hand with his, much to his surprise.

“I’m alright, general,” he cleared his throat and sat up straight, letting go of her soft palms. “It’s just….”

“You don’t have to say it if you don’t feel comfortable about it.”

“No, general,” he shook his head. “You’ve made a good point about moving on.”

Aayla shifted her gaze towards the sky, which were painted with the stars and galaxy by the Makers. She was thankful that she was wide awake in the gloomy night to see the wonders of the universe. With the war raging in the galaxy, Aayla felt like a youngling who was counting stars until she decided to go to bed.

She remembered a time when there was only peace in the galaxy. A time when the only thing she was sad was when an elderly Jedi Master became one with the Force. A time when children were running around in the hallways of the Jedi Temple instead of leading an army of soldiers. 

Aayla wonders if suffering and pain was worth it to achieve peace in the galaxy. She heard a million times that the war would end someday, but that someday doesn’t seem to come any faster as it goes on and on, claiming lives after lives. But for now, she just wants to enjoy the everlasting sight that is laying beside her, counting every star in the sky. “So, how many of them did you manage to count?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Bly asked, clueless. 

“The stars, silly,” she chuckled. “How many stars did you manage to count?”

The clone commander blushed, feeling like an idiot for not paying enough attention to her. “Well, I counted around a thousand stars in the sky.”

“Really?” her eyes widened. “That’s amazing. I’m impressed with your mathematics skills.”

“To be honest with you, Aayla, I was only guessing. I didn’t get to count past 20 stars, actually.”

“Well, it’s still impressive, though,” she shrugged. “At least it’s better than not counting at all.”

Bly beamed, tightening his lips. “H-hey Aayla, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Bly. What is it that you want to ask me about?”

“What kind of advice would you give yourself if you could go back to the past?” he wondered, glancing deeply at her eyes. 

“Well, that is a good question,” she said, moving her eyelids upwards, thinking what kind of answer would she give to him. “My only advice to my younger self is to not be overly attached with everyone you loved, as it is unhealthy and it leads to obsession.”

He nodded at her statement. “Did you have an unhealthy attachment with someone before?”

“I used to have intense emotion with my friend Kit, but he doesn't feel the same way for me. So I had to let him go and respect his feelings towards me.”

Bly couldn't help seeing green whenever he saw Aayla and Kit Fisto interacting with each other. Then again, he also felt the same way when Ahri stole her attention away from him. He knows that he doesn't own Aayla, but he felt that he should stop being jealous towards everyone who talks to her, especially his vod'ika, Ahri.

“Are you and Kit still friends?”

“We are,” she nodded. “He is my best friend and I won’t have it any other way.”

“That’s good to hear,” he gleamed. “It’s no good getting your lustrous feelings in the way of friendship anyways. Imagine what it does to your friendship with Kit.”

“Yes, there would be horrible consequences,” she answered, taking a deep breath of the fresh air in her surroundings. “Has that ever happened to you before, Bly?”

He has to be completely honest with Aayla, especially when it comes to his feelings towards and resentment towards Ahri. “My sister and I have been close with each other since the Battle of Geonosis. And then one day, when we were assigned to one of the most beautiful Jedi General, who is also smart and cautious during wartime.”

Aayla could only blush as she knew what Bly was telling her, and who is the particular person that he was referring to.

“And guess what, my feelings towards the general grew as we fought with each other, side-by-side, and we even began to understand each other as well. So imagine my surprise when I found out that my sister also has feelings for the general as well. I didn’t take it well and I ended up lashing out at her.”

He paused for a moment, before he decided to continue his story towards her. “She ended up crying and retreated to her quarters. I felt terrible. She was my closest sister in the 327th Battalion and I made her cry. I guess envy and possessiveness has grown inside my heart without realizing it, but that doesn’t excuse my behaviour towards her.”

“Later, I knocked on her barrack and I apologize for making her feel this way. She forgave me, but I still felt bad for making her miserable, so we talked and talked for hours, and we strengthened our friendship, without letting our pride and ego get in the way.”

Aayla looked at him in a proud manner, placing her hand on his shoulder. “I’m glad that you and Ahri worked on the issue between the both of you. Bly, I understand that you love me very much but sometimes, we can’t be too attached to each other. Otherwise, our relationship would lead to obsession, which is unhealthy for the both of us.”

“I know, Aayla, and I’m ashamed for thinking this way,” he frowned, avoiding her glance. “I just wished that we’re both allowed to be open about our love towards each other. I’m just sick and tired of keeping this a secret.”

“I know,” she caressed his face as she leaned her forehead onto his. “But as long as we have each other, then you have nothing to worry about.”

Bly wrapped his arms around her waist as he felt his heart pounding gently, his eyes closed. Their love may be forbidden and scandalous towards everyone, but he and Aayla surrendered their fate to the Maker of the galaxy. After all, their love story is written in the stars for their children and their grandchildren to read someday.

[queendice98]

Chapter One: Misfits meet Mutants

Sixth grade, one of the most awkward and biggest turning points in any youth's life. Everyone is going through puberty, long-time friends are beginning to fight each other over petty things, and anyone that has problems at home feels even more helpless and lost. The last part couldn't be more true for childhood friends Maggie, Maddie, and Ash. It's hard enough that they're undergoing puberty, but on top of that their home lives are less than ideal for moody preteens.

Maggie has a decent relationship with her father; her mother, on the other hand, is another story. Her mother is not the nurturing type. Some would say that perhaps her mental health was to blame but that is certainly no excuse for the way she treats her daughter. It doesn't help Maggie's mood that her parents are always fighting, leaving the poor girl feeling alone and unstable.

Maggie sluggishly gets ready for her first day of 6th grade, not that she's really looking forward to it, she just wants to escape the shitfest she calls a house. The brunette brushes her hair and teeth before changing into a baggy black hoodie, jeans, and an old pair of tennis shoes. She swings her large backpack on and grabs whatever looks edible from the fridge before leaving her house and walking to the bus stop nearby.

Maddie had to wake up much earlier than her friends so that she had enough time to feed her two younger siblings and send them off to the bus stop. Being the responsible older sister she is, she always took care of her siblings. Her mother often chose sleeping over care of her younger children, leaving her eldest to do all the work. The young girl sighs, grabbing a Mountain Dew and a packet of Pop-Tarts before going to the bus stop. She texts Ash to see if her friend is awake yet.

The girls have known each other since kindergarten, they had gone through so much in elementary school and every experience made their bond much stronger. Maddie is happy to have a friend like her, she has no idea how she would have survived without Ash. Lord knows they'll need each other as they go through the very early stages of puberty. She climbs onto the school bus, texting Ash after sitting down.

Ash texts Maddie that she's awake and getting ready for school, trying desperately to drown out her fighting parents. The kind girl is used to hearing them fight every morning before they go to work. It's gotten to the point that she no longer needs an alarm to wake up. She stays in her room until they finally leave for work giving her a chance to grab something for breakfast. Quickly settling on a day-old seven-layer burrito from Taco Bell, she heads out the door, happy that summer is over and she's back in school.

Ash has been in a bad home for as long as she can remember, her situation only worsening when her mom met Gavin and later married him. When he came into her life, she stupidly fooled herself into thinking he was different from all her mother's other relationships. Now he's proven himself to be nothing more than an overweight, alcoholic, smoker that spends most of his time drinking and belittling her. What Ash wouldn't give to get rid of that asshole once and for all, then maybe she'll have her mom back.

All three girls have no idea that they're in for a surprise when they get to school. Maddie and Ash meet up in the cafeteria, easily spotting Maggie by her lonesome. "Hey stranger." Ash says as she and Maddie sit with the young Wiccan.

Maggie smiles at the two girls, remembering them from fifth grade and how kind they were to her. "How you girls doin'?" Maggie asks as she drinks some chocolate milk.

"Eh, kinda glad to be at school. Least I'm out of that damn house." Maddie shrugs while sipping on her Mountain Dew.

"I was at camp over the summer. It was definitely better than being at home all day." Ash adds, eating an apple.

"Sounds like y'all had fun. I was stuck at home all summer." Maggie scrolls threw her phone, absentmindedly looking at some memes.

Ash glances up, noticing her new neighbor in line to get breakfast. "Oh God, of course that idiot would be here." Ash groans, praying that she doesn't have any classes with him.

Meanwhile, the Hamato boys are in the car heading to school, "I can't wait! We're finally going to public school!" Mikey shouts while practically vibrating in his seat.

"Calm down Mikey, you're going to scare everyone." Raph grouches to his younger brother, still grumpy from waking up early. Leo was almost neurotically making sure he had everything in his backpack. Donnie surprisingly was the most calm during the car ride despite being extremely excited about getting to go to public school. He was focused on how he can learn far more under the instruction of qualified professionals than he ever could have while homeschooled.

Splinter is glad his boys are excited for their official first day of school. Although they had a rough summer moving from New York to Fort Worth, Texas, he was sure it was for the best. After all, being here would hopefully be good for his boys. Maybe Splinter will benefit from this as well. Once at the school, the boys rushed to get out of the car. "Have a good day, my sons!" Splinter exclaims, feeling a bit emotional watching his boys go inside.

The hours go by as well as expected on the first day; the usual confusion of finding one's class, the principal trying to be cool as she greets the student body over the intercom, all the cliche drawn out 'getting to know you' activities. The girls were separate most of the day, finally reuniting for gym class. "Hey, y'all heard about the four turtles that moved here?" Maggie asks as they change into their gym clothes.

"Yeah, I think I had one of them in my math class earlier." Maddie saw one of the Hamato boys in her class. The blue clad one if she remembers correctly.

"I saw them in the hall between classes, the one with an orange bandana is loud as Hell." Ash finishes changing and leads the three girls out of the locker room only to see the four turtles in their gym class.

"Great." Moaned all three as they sit as far away from everyone as possible.

"Okay guys, my name is coach Dianne and I will be your gym teacher for the next three years. It's our first day, so we're just going to do some stretches before we play dodgeball!"

Mikey looks around and sees the three girls sitting by themselves in a corner while they did some stretching. He stared, curious as to why they were so far away from everyone else.

Leo took notice of the scrunched up face his brother was making, "What are you looking at Mikey?" He follows his brother's gaze only to blush dark red. He hadn't expected to see Maddie in gym class with him. The poor guy hasn't realised he is slowly developing a crush on the short haired brunette, a bit clueless about things like this because of his isolated upbringing. Raph laughs quietly while watching his oldest, 'most mature,' brother turn redder than a ripe cherry at seeing a pretty girl.

Before Mikey could get the chance to walk up to the girls to say hi, the coach began splitting everyone up into teams so they could start playing dodgeball. Unfortunately for him, they are on the other team. Mikey tries to get struck out along with the girls, really wanting a chance to talk to them.

In spite of his brother's efforts, it is Donnie that gets struck out first. Being the tallest of his classmates makes him an easy target. Ash gets hit not long after by a lucky shot, despite her doing an amazing job at dodging due to her small stature.

She sits near Donnie, grabs a book from her backpack and begins to read. Donnie notes that she's reading Macbeth and can't resist but get a little closer to her. "So, um, I see that you're into Shakespeare. I like his work too." He says in an attempt to make small talk.

She glances up, surprised that someone actually wants to talk to her. Hardly anyone talks to her. "It's okay, not one of my favorites. I'm just reading ahead for my English homework." Ash replies to the tall nerdy terrapin, blushing as she takes a good look at him. He's pretty cute for a mutant turtle. An adorable gap between his teeth and enchanting red-brown eyes are two things she spots off the bat.

"Oh, where are my manners? I'm Donnie." The shy boy extends a large three digit hand, shaking Ash's far smaller one. He's blown away by how beautiful she is. Extra long espresso locks, soft pale skin, sweet sensitive brown eyes, she's an absolute angel.

"I'm Ash, it's nice to meet you."

Leo is next to get hit and forced to sit on the bleachers. His sapphire blue eyes widen when he sees Maddie get struck out and begin walking in his direction. He wants to talk to her, but he has no idea what to say. "Um, hi." Leo says, his voice squeaking a little. He brushes it off the best he can, especially now that he's gotten her attention.

"Yes?" Maddie questions, wondering what this nerd could possibly want from her.

"I, uh, saw you in math class, and I want to get to know you a little better." Leo fidgets awkwardly under her harsh gaze. With her standing in front of him, he can really admire her better. Short, honey-brown hair frames her face perfectly. Her face and arms are splattered with adorable freckles. But, it's her eyes that fluster Leo the most. They're a beautiful blue-green. The shades shift depending on how the light hits them.

"Uh okay, what do you want to know?" Maddie asks, not knowing why Leo wants to talk to her but open to talk. The fact that the blue clad turtle is fairly handsome may have slightly opened her up to discussion. Pine green skin and sweet round sapphire eyes? Swoon worthy.

"So uh, Mr. Evans is a nutcase huh?" Leo chokes out. Jesus, he sucks at flirting. Just being social is a struggle when you've been isolated for so long, how is he supposed to hit on someone? Everyone that was watching them could see he was struggling like Hell.

Raph and Maggie are soon struck out. The red banded turtle watches Maggie sit down and curl in on herself. He is pulled in by how mysterious she looks. Raph has no idea that in reality the young woman is a small angry gremlin. He swaggers over to her, in reality looking like a fucking idiot, "Sup! How are ya?" Raph asks the young Wiccan.

"Hi?" Maggie responds hesitantly, unsure why he's talking to her.

Suspicious of new people, she stays curled into herself. This doesn't exactly hide her as much as she wishes it did, however. Long, dark brown hair tied up in a ponytail, revealing and enchanting hazel eyes as she peers up at the intruder to her personal space.

"So how's your day going?" He asks, noticing that Maggie seems to be a bit wary.

She decides he's not posing a threat, at least not currently, "Eh it's what you'd expect on the first day of school." Maggie shrugs, humming non-committedly. She is just a bit unsure how to react now that Raph is talking to her. The two continue chatting about classes, Maggie letting Raph lead the conversation for the most part.

Finally, Mikey gets struck out of the game. "Hey guys!" The youngest turtle shouts, curious as to what his older brothers are doing. His face absolutely lights up when he sees that the girls he wanted to talk to earlier are now talking with his brothers.

Leo sees his baby brother making his way towards him and Maddie, he prays that Mikey doesn't embarrass him. Maddie sees the excitable turtle braces for herself. He seems nice but at the same time she's not sure if he's really friendly. "Maddie, this is my baby brother Mikey." Leo introduces the two, knowing Mikey wants to talk to her.

Mikey excitedly shakes Maddie's hand. He can't believe he has a new friend. "I love your hoodie! I'm a fan of My Hero Academia too!" Mikey exclaims, happy someone likes the same show he likes.

"Yeah? I just got into it recently. It's awesome!" Maddie says as she begins to talk to the orange clad turtle. Leo can't believe that Mikey took Maddie's attention away from him, then again, he should have expected this from his baby brother.

Casey spots Ash on the bleachers and heads over. He's eager to get to know his next-door neighbor, "Hey there, how's it going?"

Ash looks up at Casey and groans, why does he have to be her class? "Hi, I'm okay." Ash replied curtly.

Donnie wonders how they know each other. "So um, how do you two know each other? Do you have a class together or something?"

Ash shakes her head, "No he's my next-door neighbor, he moved into my neighborhood during the summer." She has nothing against Casey. It's just that he seems to follow her wherever she goes. Before they could have a chance to really talk, the bell rings for lunch. Ash sighs in relief as she grabs her things and Maddie so they can get away from all of these people. Maggie follows them, overhearing that they're going to hide out in the art room. Being in a quiet spot is better than being in the loud cafeteria.

The three girls wait in line to get some food, blissfully unaware that Mikey is planning to get the three girls to become his best friends. "So, you two gonna join any clubs or something?" Maddie asks as she grabs a tray of food and some milk.

Maggie grabs some food as well, sticking out her tongue at the choices, "I'm probably gonna join the band or something."

"I might join the cooking or arts and crafts club." Ash says, not caring how long she stays after school. It's better than being at home.

The boys are looking around for a place to sit only for their baby brother to drag them to the art room. "Mikey, where are you taking us?" Leo questions. Mikey doesn't answer, but his brothers have no choice but to follow him to make sure that he's okay. Casey goes with the turtles. He just feels like they may be fun to hang around. As the girls get settled in the art room, they hear muffled voices in the hall. They share confused looks until Mikey bursts through the door and sits down. The girls are startled and a bit nervous, but choose not to question it.

"Hi! I'm Michelangelo, but you guys can call me Mikey. I saw you guys in gym class and wanted to get to know you." Mikey bounces excitedly as he sits in front of the girls.

Once they enter the art room, Leo, Donnie, Raph, and Casey stop to catch their breath. Leo and his other two brothers begin apologizing for Mikey's behavior. Unlike the orange clad baby, they could recognize he was acting like a total stalker. The girls accepted their apology, seeing that Mikey means no harm. And who could say no to his adorable face? Especially when he just wanted to make friends!

"So uh Mikey, what elementary school did you and your brothers go to?" Ash asks as she eats her Burger.

"Oh we've been homeschooled until we moved here in June." Mikey replies as he eats his tots.

"Yeah, we're actually from New York. But Dad wanted to move here so we have a better education." Donnie adds as he peels an orange.

Maddie is stunned, "We don't usually get a lot of people from up North, they think our weather is too crazy."

"Yup, Texas has crazy weather." Maggie adds.

"No kidding! How can you survive in this weather? How do you walk around in the summer heat without dying?" Leo asks, amazed how anyone can stand the heat at all.

"We were raised in it, that's just how we are." Ash says as she doesn't think that heat is that bad.

Maddie and Leo blush when their eyes meet. They can't help but glance at each other, finding each other cute. Mikey notices their stares as he talks to Ash and Maggie, he's definitely going to tease Leo later.

"So what was it like in the Big Apple?" Maggie questions curiously.

Raph was happy to answer that question between bites of his burger. "It was okay, we mainly stayed in the house. Dad was paranoid about something happening to us."

The girls were surprised. Not only did they not see much of New York, but their dad was concerned enough for their safety that they moved so far away. "It's pretty cool, I want to go back when I get older." Casey stuffs his face with soggy tater-tots, continuing the conversation by telling them some stories he had from the few years he lived in the big city before moving.

The tweens continue talking to each other, and the girls are pleasantly surprised that they are having fun with these New Yorkers. The three girls are used to living in solitude and only talking to others when they have to, so this is a nice change. Mikey is just happy to have made some new friends on his first day of public school. Everyone is enjoying themselves as they chat among each other until lunch is over and they must go to their next lesson.

Donnie and Ash blush when they see they have the same science class. Ash thought she's the only one in the honors courses, unaware that Donnie is just as big a nerd as she is. The rest of the day goes by fairly well, the bell promptly releasing the students from class. The day is over, and they're free to go home.

The Hamato boys patiently wait for Rat Dad to come and pick them up. Mikey sees Ash and Maddie are waiting for their late bus and waves at them. Smiling when they wave back at him.

Leo soon sees Rat Dad's car, "C'mon Mikey, Father's here!" He shouts. Raph, seeing Mikey had seemingly completely ignored Leo, grabs his baby brother's arm and yanks him into the car.

"I assume you boys had a good day at school?" Splinter questions hopefully as he watches his boys get into the car.

"We had a great day Papa! I made some new friends!" Mikey shouts as he puts his seatbelt on.

"Yeah, we met them in gym class. They're really nice." Donnie says, a bright blush on his face.

"They're nice girls." Leo adds, getting Splinter's attention.

Splinter is apprehensive that the first friends they made were girls, though knowing his youngest he has no reason for concern. Mikey just wants to be friends with anyone and everyone. The more Splinter listens to what Mikey tells him, the more he relaxes as he can tell that Mikey is just trying to be friendly. Rat Dad is relieved that his boys had a good day at school, he had worried that moving here wouldn't turn out the way he had hoped. Thankfully Fort Worth seems like a great choice for him and his boys so far. If only they knew this was just the beginning of their new lives.

[mycupoffanfiction]

Winning Hearts

Pietro x Reader

Summary: Pietro and the Reader both have a crush on each other, but Pietro is convinced the Reader has something special with Bucky, who in reality is just her best friend.

Warnings: Just two clueless beans and a lot of fluff.

Word count: Approx 2500

Masterlist

Pietro Week Masterlist

A/N: Hi my loves! This was requested by an anon. I hope you enjoy the fic and was what you were looking for, I set this in a party since I attempted this in a few other settings and it seemed to work better like this. Enjoy! 💕

“What are you doing?” Wanda’s voice interrupted Pietro’s glaring contest with the back of Bucky’s head, trying to get a glimpse of you in your beautiful dress you’d worn for Tony’s party. Scrambling to take a gulp of his alcoholic beverage to make it look like there was nothing going on at all, Pietro just gave her a wide eyed shrug, attempting to pass it off, but failing miserably.

Wanda sighed and looked up at her brother, unimpressed and she changed her stance, propping a hand on her hip as she arched a brow at her twin. “You were staring. Again.” She snorted. “What do you have it with Barnes? Do you like him?” Wanda teased, nudging him with her elbow and Pietro almost spat out his drink, collapsing into a coughing fit when he inhaled it instead.

“Wanda!” He shrieked, fixing her with a glare that quickly turned into a smile and a chuckle, he hadn’t expected her to come out with that. “No, I wasn’t staring at him, I had my eye on another.” He sighed longingly as he glanced over, finally getting to see you in that dress and Pietro practically turned into a puddle when he saw you. “Isn’t she beautiful?” He whispered, eyeing you with a desirous look.

Wanda was sick and tired of Pietro dancing around you without admitting any feelings when it was achingly obvious you had it bad for her brother. In fact, it was so obvious that she didn’t even feel like she might need to probe for information or use her powers to see your true intentions towards Pietro because the longing stares and heart eyes you always seemed to have around her twin was more than enough to tell Wanda you had it bad for him.

“Go and ask her to dance with you.” Wanda prodded him in the side, making Pietro flinch away and playfully wave her hands away from his sides. “Noooo.” He whined, shaking his head frantically. “Pietro, I have never seen you freeze up around a girl like this before, slather on some charm and ask her to dance.” She shoved him a little. “Nonono.” Pietro held up his hands in surrender, adamant he didn’t want to. “She’s clearly with Bucky, I mean look at them, they are always together and they look happy.” He sighed, heart aching at the thought.

It was true though, you did seem to spend an awful lot of time around Bucky. Most mornings at breakfast you spent in his presence, you drank coffee together, ran together, watched movies together, but not for the reason Pietro saw.

Wanda snorted and shook her head. “Brother, they are not together. She is so in love with you, can’t you see?” She asked. “Please, just go and ask her to dance Pietro, you won’t regret it, she’ll say yes, I know she will.” She urged.

You glanced around Bucky’s arm at the sound of Pietro wheezing and spluttering dramatically while Wanda just stared at him with an amused smirk. “What’s up with him?” Bucky asked, rolling his eyes as he turned to see the commotion. You snorted out a laugh and shook your head. “I don’t know but I feel like every time I see Pietro he ends up doing something like that.” You giggled, swivelling around to face Bucky so you didn’t cause Pietro any unnecessary embarrassment.

“That’s because you’re here, Doll. Y’know that boy gets real nervous when you’re around.” Bucky grinned like the devil and you scoffed, lazily whacking his arm. “I wish.” You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “There’s no way Maximoff is into me, he’s got it bad for all the girls.” You sighed and Bucky winced at your comment, obviously not realising that Pietro only ever seemed to be flirty around you, but apparently in your mind that translated to him being flirty with everyone.

“Aw, c’mon Sweetheart, you don’t really believe that do ya?” Bucky asked, trying to get you to think a little more about Pietro’s actions around you. You groaned and tilted your head back. “He flirts all the time.” You sighed and Bucky was internally screaming at this point. He wanted to grab you by the shoulders and tell you how much Pietro was clearly into you and only you and fling you at the speedster so he could get you two to admit your feelings one way or another or perhaps he’d lock you both in a closet. Yeah the latter sounded like a more plausible idea, he thought.

“Besides he’s way out of my league.” You pouted, your absurd comment about yourself breaking Bucky out of his thoughts and he stared at you, mouth agape with impending disagreement. “Excuse you Ma’am, you and I both know that ain’t true, you’re absolutely, heart stoppingly gorgeous Doll.” Bucky stated as if it was fact and you grinned like an idiot, smile faltering when you noticed the presence of someone else and you looked to the side to see Pietro, staring at you both in silence. An excruciatingly long moment passed and you stuttered on the spot, seeing the hurt in Pietro’s eyes and you reached out for him, but he disappeared into a trail of silvery blue as if he was never there to begin with.

You’re absolutely heart stoppingly gorgeous Doll. God, why had Pietro thought this was even a good idea? Why did he have to listen to Wanda? He was right, you were with Bucky and he had just made himself look like an idiot in front of you. He was pining after you but it was clearly unrequited and there was no way you’d reciprocate the feelings. Pietro was better off trying to find some of Thor’s Asgardian mead and spending the rest of the party alone in his room, away from the embarrassment he’d just caused himself.

Staring at the tankard of mead in his hands, Pietro took a couple of sips and placed it on the bedside table next to his bed, debating back and forth whether he should drink the whole lot and forget about his feelings or just go to bed. He was about to take a deep drink when a frantic knock at the door interrupted him and he paused, slamming the tankard down, mead sloshing over the side slightly.

Pietro let out a string of swear words in Sokovian and from what you could pick up from the muffled outburst in his mother tongue, you heard him tell his sister to piss off and leave him alone. “Piet, it’s me.” You called through, hoping that would convince him to at least calm down and as soon as he heard your voice he went silent.  “Piet, please open the door, I just want to talk.” You spoke softly, leaning yourself against the door.

“Not now Prinţesă, enjoy the party with Barnes.” He called through the door, trying not to sound upset and utterly heart broken, but you could hear the hurt in his voice and the dismissive tone it took. That’s when it hit you like an absolute tonne of bricks. He thought you were with Bucky, that certainly explained his quick escape from the party and you sighed at yourself for being so blind.

He’d obviously overheard you and Bucky and must have thought you were together and now you really felt like an idiot. You sighed and bumped your head against the door, scolding yourself a bit before picking up the courage to speak again.

“Piet, Bucky and I aren’t a- a thing.” You tried to explain awkwardly through the door. “Nice try, Prinţesă, I heard what Barnes said to you.” He called back and you thought it so ironic that he thought Bucky was hitting on you when it was you who had needed the encouragement for feeling out of Pietro’s league.

“Oh, Piet- he said that because I’m an idiot.” You sighed, unsure how to put it into words and Pietro narrowed his eyes, giving a questioning look to the door. That made absolutely no sense at all and Pietro finally gave in and got up from sitting on the edge of the bed to let you in, perhaps explaining would be easier if there wasn’t a large division between you both.

When the door opened, you stumbled into the room, having not expected him to actually let you in and you’d still been leaning against it. Pietro quickly caught you, a chuckle escaping his lips as he held you in his arms. Clearing his throat, Pietro got you standing upright and took a step back, awkwardly shoving his hands into his suit trouser pockets.

“I fail to see how Barnes telling you that you are gorgeous is because you are an idiot, whi-which you’re not. Not an idiot, I mean, you are very beautiful.” Pietro stumbled over his words, shaking his head at himself as he dug himself even deeper into the hole you’d both created. Getting flustered at his comment, you smiled, but reminded yourself why you were here in the first place. You sighed and closed your eyes, realising you’d have to unravel the entire thing and start again and hope Pietro liked you and you could work through the strange misunderstanding.

“We aren’t together, Piet. Bucky was trying to encourage me about someone at the party I like and I felt like I was out of his league.” You skipped around admitting anything and Pietro eyed you with a perplexed look. “He was right Prinţesă. You are beautiful, you look wonderful in that dress and if you think for a second that you are out of anyone’s league, you are wrong.” Pietro hadn’t even realised quite what he’d said until he saw your reaction and your eyes widened. “You really think that?” You asked, voice softening as you shyly looked up to meet his eyes and Pietro nodded with a sweet smile.

“Yes and I think you should go and tell whoever it was at the party how you feel.” He tried to dismiss you but you stayed still in the doorway, fumbling with your words for a second before you mustered up the courage. “I can’t, he left.” You blurted out and Pietro shot you questioning look as if trying to work out if you were in fact talking about him or someone else.

“Who left, Prinţesă?” Pietro asked softly, slowly starting to catch on since you refused to move and he took a step towards you, his hand coming to rest on your bare arm with a feather light touch, so you had room and time to back out if you wanted.

Your breathing hitched under his soft touch and you struggled to meet his eyes, suddenly even more nervous and shy than you were before and you shakily lifted a hand to run your fingers up the lapels of his suit jacket. “You did, Piet.” You replied, voice barely above a whisper and Pietro’s soft expression quickly morphed into a lopsided smile.

Pietro slowly closed the gap between you, his hand running up your arm to gently brush his fingers against your cheek, thumb tracing your cheekbone as his other hand moved to rest on your waist. “Is this okay, Prinţesă mea?” Pietro whispered, his breath against your skin, his warmth soothing some of the adrenaline that rushed through you, though your heart still beat fast and you still struggled to look up into his eyes.

“Tell me if it’s okay, I will stop if you tell me to.” He assured you, fingers tilting your chin, making you look up to meet his soft blue gaze and you opened your mouth to respond, only to end up just giving him a nod when you realised you couldn’t muster the simple yes or no Pietro was asking for.

He smiled, seeing the effect he had on you and his glance flicked between your eyes and your lips, watching as you instinctively ran your tongue over them and parted them slightly, his urge to kiss you even greater than before. With one more look into your eyes, Pietro leaned down, closing the gap even further as the hand on your waist tugged you against him and his lips brushed softly against yours, meeting so subtly for a second before he dipped down fully and captured you in a sweet kiss.

His lips pressed against yours and caressed you at a lovingly slow pace. You gained the confidence to move your lips against his, searching for more of him and all of your worry and shyness seemed to melt away as you pulled yourself closer, hands meeting at the back of his neck and threading between his hair. Pietro rewarded you with a low groan that rumbled through his chest against yours and his grip on your waist tightened slightly.

Pietro pulled you slowly to the side and nudged the door to his room shut to give you some privacy from anyone who might happen the wander through the hallway. Pushing you down slowly, Pietro cradled the back of your head as he lowered you onto his bed, tongue carefully parting your lips and meeting yours in a slow and gentle caress. Butterflies blossomed in your stomach as you allowed Pietro to deepen the kiss, letting out a soft hum at the feeling of him against you, his skin on yours was intoxicating, the smell of his cologne was comforting and yet so alluring and you found yourself wanting to breathe in more of the spiced, warm chocolate scent that clung to his neck and jawline.

Slowly, he parted from you, eyes hooded with adoration and desire as he took in your slightly breathless form, laid out so delicately on his bed with a flustered look on your features, lips still parted from the kiss you had shared.

“So beautiful, Prinţesă .” He whispered, looking down at you in awe as he admired your features, eyes exploring every little detail. “So beautiful.” Pietro repeated, speaking so smoothly as he reached to hold your hands, pulling you into a sitting position so you could talk at the same level. “Will you be my Prinţesă?” He posed the question, looking deep into your soft eyes, waiting for your response.

You paused, drawing in a breath as you mulled over the wording of his question, his voice was so soft and sweet, a quality you’d only seen him share with you and Bucky’s earlier discussion with you quickly came to mind, realising Pietro really had only been flirting with you the entire time.

“I’d love to be yours, Piet.” You nodded, sharing a look of adoration and deep appreciation for one another.

Grinning at your response, Pietro took your hand and gently held it in his. “I want to enjoy tonight with you, Prinţesă mea, how about a dance on the balcony, so I can keep you all to myself and we can still enjoy the music?” He gave you a smirk, melting you with his eyes and you nodded approvingly. “That sounds perfect.” You responded with a bright smile, receiving a winning grin from Pietro.

“Come, we still have all night to have a good time.” Piet winked at you, pulling you up with him and helping you out onto the balcony before he immediately fell into step with the music you could hear from the party deck upstairs. You moved with him and giggled, delighted and relieved you were finally with Pietro. He twirled you around before pulling you back to rest against his chest.

You’d give Bucky and Wanda their satisfaction of knowing they were both right another time, but for now you were very content in the loving embrace Pietro held you in.

Pietro Taglist (OPEN):

@valkyriesryde @bisexual---mermaid @sherlocked-bitch @virtualmemmecollector @megantje123 @sebbbystaaan @unknown-and-invisible @scarlett-berserker @yougottakeeponkeepinon @chiefwobblerauthorrebel @kitkatd7 @herwaywardskies @saltywintersoldat @potterssuperhero @mushyjellybeans @southernbell91 @book-dragon-13 @marvelgirl7​

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection Day 25: Slow Burn

The difference between living and existing (WIP) | @lucy-is-alive

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6052 Main Tags/Warnings: John Winchester's A+ parenting, College AU, Sexuality crisis, PTSD, Childhood trauma, Recreational drug use, Angst and hurt/comfort Summary: As soon as he got the chance, Dean left his father behind and went to college. However, he never anticipated that the absence of the person who had disrupted his entire life would make it worse. With the help of his friends, he tries to navigate through the emotional hurricane that comes with complex PTSD.

Celestial | @deservetobesaved

Rating: Mature Word Count: 10585 Main Tags/Warnings: slow burn, mutual pining, fluff, emotional affair, bottom!dean Summary: Dean is in a less than stellar marriage, but he assumes things will work themselves out. At the same time, Mr. Castiel Novak becomes his new co-worker at school and Dean has to rethink everything he thought he had figured out.

Welcome to the Badlands (WIP) | @cr-noble-writes

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 15386 Main Tags/Warnings: graphic violence, dystopian au, fusion, into the badlands au, slow burn Summary: The wars were so long ago, nobody even remembers. Darkness and fear ruled until the time of the Barons, seven men and women who forged order out of the chaos. People flocked to them for protection. That protection became servitude. They banished guns and trained armies of lethal fighters they called Clippers. This world is built on blood. Nobody is innocent here. Welcome to the Badlands.

Profound Kisses | @verobatto-angelxhunter

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 20700 Main Tags/Warnings: Destiel, post 8x07 canon divergent, mutual pining, explicit sexual content, angst with a happy ending, clueless! Castiel, pining!Dean, Top!Dean, Bottom!Cas, slow burn, love confessions, first kiss, french kiss, Sammy knows. Summary: Dean knows he's screwed. He discovers he is in love with Castiel in Purgatory, and now he can't even have the angel in front of him, because he knows it's a one sided love. It’s Valentine's day and Dean tries very hard to hook up as always, but he can't get Cas out of his mind. So he drives back to the motel, drunk, and he finds Castiel trying to help him. Then, when Dean asks Castiel for some experimental kisses and the angel accepts, Dean starts a very dangerous game… finding in Castiel's kisses the most delicious experiences, but also, his own perdition. Will Castiel fall in love with him? Or will he stay emotionless as always?

Hate me, but love me too | @notfunnydean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 23310 Main Tags/Warnings: Virgin!Dean,f hate spell, hate curse, younger!dean, older!sam, Grace Sharing, First Kiss, First Time, Hate Sex, Dubious Consent, Mildly Dubious Consent, Cas is cursed, (not really MCD but Cas isn't alive in the beginning), Castiel has sex with somebody else in the beginning(and Dean sees it), Heartbreakbut I will fix it! Summary: Dean’s whole life changes when his mother tells him that John isn’t his biological father and he needs to save the world from his sibling Adam, who is the King of Hell. But he can’t do that alone, he needs the best Hunter earth had, Castiel Novak.

Starstruck (WIP) | @peanutbutterjelly-pie

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 40860 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Slow Burn, Actor Dean, Single Parent Castiel, Pining Summary: From the outside Castiel Novak looks like a regular guy: a good job, two teenage kids, a nice house and a crappy car he’s way too attached to. But there’s one thing no one knows about him: that, over twenty years ago, he used to live next to no other than Dean Winchester – back then a brash and loud-mouthed boy and nowadays a huge movie star and Hollywood’s sweetheart. Castiel never bothered to tell anyone about his childhood friend because frankly, who would believe him? Probably even Dean himself already forgot about his former awkward and weird neighbor, so Castiel seriously doesn’t see any point in mentioning the whole thing ever. But then an interview on national TV happens where Dean reveals way more about his past than ever before … and Castiel - as well as the rest of the world - suddenly realizes that he left a much bigger impact on Dean’s life than he originally thought.

Letter to Dean Winchester (WIP) | @castielsangel-blade

Rating: Mature Word Count: 44182 Main Tags/Warnings: Past Lisa/Dean, Past Aaron/Dean, Past Castiel/Dean, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Mentions of Past Cheating, Mentions of Past Toxic Relationship, Gray Romantic Castiel, Asexual Castiel, Epistolary, Bisexual Dean Summary: Castiel writes and sends a letter to Dean Winchester. He wants closure for the toxic relationship they had in high school.

Falling Apart | @cr-noble-writes

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 49204 Main Tags/Warnings: minor character death, sam deceased when fic starts, alcoholism, drug misuse, addiction, rehab au, soulmate au, flashbacks, ptsd Summary: Sword & Cross Resident Rehabilitation is a last-ditch effort for Dean Winchester to move past the drug and drinking problems he developed to bury his guilt over the fire that killed his brother. Not to mention the wild visions and smoky, sentient shadows that have plagued him his entire life. It's supposed to be the best Savannah has to offer, but one look at the crumbling tile floors and dangling crown mouldings, and Dean has his doubts. Enter Castiel Novak. He’s rude, aloof, and a total dick from the moment they lay eyes on each other but Dean can’t help but feel a mysterious connection to the man. Maybe he really has lost his mind. But when Castiel starts making appearances in Dean’s vivid visions of the past, he knows there is more to their link than meets the eye. Even if Cas keeps telling him otherwise. It seems everyone at Sword & Cross knows what’s going on except for Dean. Trying to conquer his mountain of guilt and doubt and figure out the connection he is certain he shares with Castiel is only made harder by the “accidents” that seem to follow him. Not to mention his attraction to Gadreel. Whatever secret Castiel is trying so hard to keep, Dean knows he has to uncover it.

Will you be my ten inch hero? | @notfunnydean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 57468 Main Tags/Warnings: Bullying, Homophobic Language, Abusive John Winchester, Canon-Typical Violence, Smut, giving a baby to adoption (not between Destiel), Rape/Non-con Elements, John kicked Dean out, Virgin!Dean, surprise guest appereance, Minor Crowley (Supernatural)/Bobby Singer, Minor Charlie Bradbury/Jo Harvelle, Minor Rowena MacLeod/Gabriel, two surprise pairings, not Ketch or Mick Davies friendly Summary: When John Winchester kicks Dean out, after he saw him kissing another boy, and Dean sees that Sam has a perfect life at Stanford without him, Dean starts a new life in Santa Cruz. He works at a tiny shop as a cook, has found some friends there, and is overall happy enough. That changes when Castiel comes into his shop and his Co-worker Azara, who has a different man every night, starts flirting with him right in front of Dean. Not that he would be jealous or anything, but there is something about Castiel that makes him weak in the knees. Only that Castiel would never want him back, right?

Roll With It | @saltnhalo

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 72818 Main Tags/Warnings: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Boss/Employee Relationship, Secretary Dean, Alternate Universe - Not Hunters, The Proposal AU, Alternate Universe, Romantic Comedy, Romance, Editor Castiel, Fluff and Angst, Sam Winchester at Stanford, POV Alternating, Geek Dean, Russian Castiel, Sharing a Bed, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Top Castiel, Bottom Dean, Misunderstandings, Tattooed Castiel, Love Confessions, Slow Burn Summary: For two years, Dean’s been slaving away beneath his boss – many label him a secretary, but he fucking hates that and feels like it only applies to someone wearing a pencil skirt, so he insists on his title of Executive Assistant. And for what? In the vain hope that one day he’ll manage to become an editor for Sandover Publishing, and that he’ll see the manuscript that he’s slaved over since college finally realized in print. That’s the dream, anyway. Right now, he’s fucking late. Dean wants to be an editor. Castiel just wants to stay in the country. ‘The Proposal’ – as you’ve never seen it before.

When the Magnolias bloom (WIP) | @flurryflair

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 92951 Main Tags/Warnings: slow burn, angst with a happy ending, mutual pining, human!Castiel, divorce, infidelity, middle aged destiel, explicit sexual content, top Castiel/bottom Dean Winchester, top Dean Winchester/bottom Castiel, POV alternating, unresolved sexual tension, denial of feelings, porn with feelings, anxiety attacks, manipulative relationship, unhealthy coping mechanisms, canon-typical violence, case fic, bisexual!Dean, demisexual!Castiel, semi-canon, minor Castiel/OMC, minor Dean Winchester/Lisa Braeden Summary: It's been ten years since the Apocalypse. Ten years without talking, without knowing one another. Castiel has a company to handle and a wedding to plan, Dean has a broken marriage and a decision to make. They have separate lives, lovers and families of their own, they aren't supposed to meet again, to mess it all up. And yet they do, when they least expect it, and maybe when they most need it. A story about second chances, about hope and resilience, and a love that feels both doomed and inevitable.

Unsung Melody (WIP) | @toomanyships-sendhelp

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 177617 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Character Death, AU Slaves, Slow Burn Summary: Dean runs a busy bar and grill in Lebanon, Kansas. Semi-retired from hunting, he'll still catch a case when one blows his way or the urge to hunt strikes him again. It isnt until a case that opened decades ago claims another victim and Dean has to get back in the game a little more than he expected.

[ellewritesfix05]

Invisible Knight

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 761

A/N: First angst and first Sam fic. Set up around Season 5, inspired by the song Shiver by Coldplay. Listen here.

A thousand thanks to the amazing @1000roughdrafts for taking the time to Beta and all the encouragement. Truly one of the greats. 💜 Hope y’all like it 

📷 cred: to rightful owners

Here’s my full Masterlist if you’d like to read more!☺️

So I look in your direction

But you pay me no attention, do you?

Seven months. That’s how long Sam Winchester has been pining for Y/n. 

The Winchester brothers had met Y/N a year ago while hunting demons. As luck would have it, Y/N had been hunting the same group of black-eyed bastards and decided to accept their offer to team up against Satan’s children. Ever since, Sam, Dean, and Y/N had become inseparable; bound together by tragedy, revenge, and a desire to save as many innocent folk as humanly possible. 

It had started off with innocuous flirting every now and then, but soon enough Sam began developing feelings for the strong, amazing Y/N. She was not like any of the girls that Sam had met lately. No, Y/N was different. She was not only an exceptional hunter with sharp instincts and a hell of a right hook, but she was also incredibly intelligent, rivaling his own talents when it came to research and lore knowledge. Caring and sweet nearly to a fault, but able to switch on a dime in order to protect the innocent with intense ferocity, should the situation call for it. Add to that the fact that she was absolutely beautiful, with luscious (Y/H/C) locks, perfectly shaped lips, and bright (Y/E/C) eyes that could make him feel as though he could get lost in them and be completely happy. 

Yes, Sam was in trouble the second Y/N stepped into his life, a feeling he’d only experienced once before with his college girlfriend Jessica. Not that he could hope to have the type of relationship with Y/N that he’d been lucky to have with Jessica before her tragic, untimely death.

Unfortunately, any romantic relationship with Y/N was not in the cards for Sam. In fact, he had resigned himself to the fact that he would be nothing more than a friend to Y/N, for it was not him she loved but his brother, Dean. As fate would have it, Y/N had fallen for the elder Winchester and there was no way to change her heart, or her mind for that matter. Even though Dean treated her as no more than a friend, perhaps even a little sister, Y/N found herself fully dedicated to the green-eyed hunter; and in a twisted plot by life to further crush his soul, Sam had become Y/N’s most trusted friend, which meant that he was now her shoulder to cry on whenever Dean took home other women without so much as looking Y/N’s way.

Yet, Sam couldn’t bring himself to resent her for loving Dean instead. After all, Dean wasn’t the Demon-blood freak that had popped Lucifer out of his cage and kick-started the Apocalypse. Despite all his faults, Dean was the better choice; someone that would never abandon his family to go on some pointless goose chase for the unobtainable apple-pie life. Someone that wouldn’t choose a demon over his loved ones, that would always do right by his own no matter the consequences.

I’ll be there by your side

Just you try and stop me

I’ll be waiting in line

Just to see if you care

There were times, when Dean was away at some bar, that Sam could almost see a sign that Y/N may feel something for him too. Perhaps in the way her touch lingered on his forehead after helping cut his hair, or the brief moments of eye contact that made him feel as though they were the only two humans left on earth. But those short-lived moments came and went quickly before he could ascertain any hidden feelings she might hold for him. 

So, instead of dwelling on absurd notions of reciprocity, Sam remained Y/N’s faithful friend, nothing less and, sadly, nothing more. Silently loving her from a distance, yearning for her unattainable touch.

And it's you I see, but you don't see me

And it's you I hear, so loud and clear

I sing it loud and clear

And I'll always be waiting for you

Even though it crushed him to see Y/N suffer, Sam continued to stay by her side; an invisible knight in shining armor always at the ready to pick up the pieces left by his brother’s latest meaningless conquest. In spite of the sadness, anger, and disappointment, Sam couldn’t help but stay and help glue her heart back together every time; even if she couldn’t do the same for him.

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Pond Tags

@manawhaat  @notnaturalanahi   @impala-dreamer @deathtonormalcy56 @samsgoddess @frenchybell @for-the-love-of-dean @spn-fan-girl-173 @deandoesthingstome @deansleather @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @waywardjoy @mrswhozeewhatsis @captain-princess-rose @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @kayteonline @supernatural-jackles @idreamofhazel  @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @memariana91 @chelsea-winchester @becs-bunker   @ageekchiclife @your-average-distracted-waffle @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobessed  @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @evilskank-inthemegacoven @maraisabellegrey-blog @faith-in-dean  @clueless-gold @winchester-family-business   @there-must-be-a-lock @just-another-winchester​  @emoryhemsworth @serenity-sam @cas-backwards-tie    @sierra-grace1227 @firefly-in-darkness @emilyshurley @deanwanddamons

[andmynewlymeltedheart]

yo. i love how everyone (including canon) has Barry pine after Lup. i LOVE it. I yell about it always. but also like

Lup was pining BIG time

like it definitely starts with her seeing Barry work on some repairs on the Starblaster one day, he’s just doing work and being hot and Lup is just like “hey Taako i think????? i am a little horny for the nerd” and Taako is like “gross but okay next” and she brushes it off because it’s probably just proximity, right?

and then it turns into a friendship and she’s like “actually I DON’T want to bone down on this nerd because he’s my FRIEND and ONLY my FRIEND” and Taako is like “mmmmhm cool and also dope ;)” and Lup elbows him in the ribs

and then Lup spends more time with Barry and feels this really strong bond with him, this deep emotional connection, and it grows stronger and stronger until one day she looks at him, working on the robot conduit for a spirit who’s finding their ~current bliss~ in shocking the absolute SHIT out of him, and she’s laughing so hard that she can’t see through tears pouring out of her eyes. and she wipes the tears away and her vision clears and...

it’s like she’s seeing him for the first time

like everything around him is a little blurred but he’s in high definition

and he turns and smiles at her sheepishly and she blushes deeply, and though she tries to hide it by pretending to turn her attention to something else she can SWEAR she sees his cheeks go red, too.

And she keeps it to herself for a LONG time because the feeling of being in love with someone who doesn’t know it is so nice and so heartbreaking and so delicious that she doesn’t want to share it just yet. and she’s scared.

but she spends more time with him. and she flirts with him. and he flirts with her too,

she thinks?

but she always doubts herself because “He’s just nice to everyone he’s just being nice right” and Taako slaps his palm to his forehead, because his sister is equally SO brilliant and SO fucken clueless that it’s endearing

and Lup asks Barry to a meal in Tesseralia and the food tastes even better when she’s with him . And Barry cuts his leg after tripping on a tree root and Lup cleans it up and she can swear that even though it looks bad she’d clean up any gross thing on this man if it meant helping him, being near him. and there’s a few cycles where she dies or he dies and on the ones when she’s left without him she wonders if this one will be it, and prays to some god somewhere that it isn’t.

because she hasn’t told him yet. and she has to tell him.

but then they see each other again and, well, that can wait until they’re all settled.

and Lup is terrified.

but still they grow. and they learn. and they become closer.

and they do little things for each other

squash bugs

make snacks

loan books

offer tea

catch glasses as they fall

and it comes to a point where Lup CAN’T keep it to herself anymore, she’s overflowing, she’s BURSTING, and she pushes Taako into his quarters and locks the door and it takes a second for his confusion to wear off but she tells him absolutely EVERYTHING

“I been knew homie but I’m glad you told me”

and she gets a little awkward around Barry now that a set of eyes can see REALLY what’s going on, even if it is just Taako

and Barry notices and asks her if she’s alright and she gets even more awkward because she tries to stay cool, she’s never had to TRY to be cool what the fuck is this GEEK DOING TO HER

but she’s more aware of glancing at Barry when she thinks he isn’t looking

more aware of how much she laughs at his jokes

more aware of how often she says his name

more aware of little touches on his arm or shoulder when she wants his attention

it all feels electric and scary and it’s almost too sweet for Taako to bear but he would never SAY that OUT LOUD so he occasionally makes a gagging face at his sister when they’re being extra cute and she threatens to kill him (siblings are ride or die, y’all, and this time it’s die)

and so much time passes, so many opportunities drift away and she kicks herself and curses the butterflies that have taken up a permanent residence in her stomach

but, finally, they get to the Conservatory. and they hear about what they have to do to get The Light. and not even a moment after Davenport’s debriefing she makes a promise to her brother.

“Here,” Lup states, facing him, a seriousness in her features that she only shows when she really means something

And it takes him a second to get exactly what she means.

“Here?

And she looks at Barry and is unable to fight the smile spreading like wildfire across her face.

“Here.”

And she glances at her brother and winks, and her heart races as she walks toward him, towards Barry: the love of her lives.

Because this year, this cycle, he’s gonna know.

[ialwayscomewhenyoucall]

A Fragile Hope

hermione granger/george weasley

~2.4k

“So are you collecting Weasleys, then?”

Hermione doesn’t look up from the protection charm she’s building into the iron scrollwork of the new Hogwarts gate. “Hmm?”

George doesn’t look up either; he’s working on one of the gateposts, charming the winged boar to leap from the pillar and attack when activated. “This…” He makes a frustrated noise. “Us working together out here. Are you looking for an addition to your Weasley collection?”

For a long moment she just stares at the gate, unseeing. Then George says, “You had Ron.”

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anything. Anyone with eyeballs knows she and Ron had been a couple. They’d been holding hands at the Battle of Hogwarts, casting jinxes without letting go of one another, clinging to one another when Hagrid placed what they’d thought was Harry’s dead body on the flagstones of the courtyard. She pushes the images aside, redoubles her efforts on the gate. She’s good at protection charms. She’d kept Ron and Harry alive all those months of wandering. Scarred and broken, but alive.

She’s snapped out of her thoughts by George’s voice. “And I know you snogged my sister a few times, back when--what was it, your fifth year?”

Hermione goes still at that. It isn’t a secret, not exactly. Ron knows, and Harry. But they don’t talk about it, and they didn’t really back then, either. “I haven’t kissed you.” The unspoken yet hangs in the air between them, heavy. Hermione brushes it aside, saying, “How did you know about that?”

George snorts. “It’s always been easy to get Ginny to talk. Not for just anyone, of course, but Fred--” He stops, staring into the distance. “Well, anyway, we knew just how to get to Ginny,” he finishes, the enthusiasm falling away.

Hermione almost sighs, but she doesn’t want him to think it has anything to do with his mention of Fred, so she keeps quiet. “It was never about collecting Weasleys,” she says, matter-of-factly. “Or settling for one because I couldn’t have another--kissing Ginny because Ron was too clueless to notice me. Even back then I knew Ginny and Harry belonged together. I knew they’d grow old together, surrounded by flocks of red-headed children. But she was...pretty. And clever. I wanted to kiss her, and she wanted to kiss me, and it was…” The smile on her face is faraway and brushed with sadness. “It was nice. We were never in love, at least not in the way you might be thinking. I’ve always loved Ginny, the way I’ve always loved all of you Weasleys. Harry too. You’re all part of my--” Here she gestures, trying to explain with her hands what her mouth is having trouble saying, but she’s waving at the gate, not at George. She pulls a face, then goes on. “You’re part of my circle. Me and Ginny, we were friends. We still are. We just happen to be friends who used to, on occasion, make out.”

They haven’t looked at each other once since they got to the gates to work, but Hermione can almost feel his desire to ask more questions. So she fills in some of the empty space between them. “You know I was in love with Ron. I still am, in my way. But…” She does sigh this time, long and drawn out. Her voice quavers, just the tiniest bit. “Things fall apart. Sometimes love isn’t enough.”

“Hermione, I’m--”

“It’s alright,” she says before he can apologize. “I’m alright.” She laughs, shaky and strained. “I’m not pining for Ron, George. He and I were mostly a disaster. I’m just thinking about…” She feels the Hogwarts grounds behind her, both the old and full of memories and the new bits being rebuilt. A tear trickles down her cheek; she absently wipes it away. “Just thinking about lost things,” she finishes.

*

“Why not Charlie? Or is he next?”

Hermione closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose, fighting the urge to either cry or laugh. “I’m not collecting Weasleys, George.” She nibbles on a biscuit from the plate between them. “Besides, I’m not exactly his type. I’m lacking something he’s looking for.” She raises her eyebrows suggestively, then winks.

George nearly chokes on his tea. “How did you know that? I mean, the family knows he’s gay, but we don’t really talk about it. It’s just the way things are.”

Amusement replaces her exasperation. “Maybe I didn’t grow up with him, but I’ve spent a little time with him since I started at Hogwarts. He’s not exactly subtle.”

When she sees look of puzzlement on George’s face she has to bite back a giggle. “He’s not?”

“Not remotely. He’s a terrible flirt.”

“He is?”

Hermione gives in. “Sometimes you’re so like Harry and Ron. Honestly, pay attention to things once in awhile!” she says with a laugh.

He shakes his head, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

*

“Why do you keep coming back to me, Hermione?”

They’re at Hogwarts again, this time adding their defenses to those already present at the main doors. Hermione tucks her wand up the sleeve of her robes and turns to give George a look.

“I’m just an ordinary guy. I wasn’t good at school--I’m sure you’ve seen my OWL results, and you know I never finished my NEWTs. I don’t do anything important for the world. I own a joke shop. You--you could--”

Her incredulous look stops him short.

“I’ve never known anyone better at charms. And all those things you and Fred made, that you invented--they may be jokes, but they’re brilliant. You know how to follow through--you got an idea, did the research, tested and then tested again until you had the result you were looking for. You’re an inventor, and you’ve got a head bursting with knowledge and ideas. I don’t care about test scores.”

It’s his turn to look incredulous.

She laughs. “Alright, so I do care about test scores. But they aren’t everything.”

For a moment he laughs with her, but then his face falls. Looking away he says, “Fred was always better.”

“No!” It comes out louder than she’d intended and several of the other pairs working nearby turn to look at them curiously. “No,” she says again. She’s still agitated but she keeps her voice low. “That isn’t what--” She takes a breath. “This isn’t a time for you to talk bad about yourself, George. I’m trying to convince you that I’m not a collector of red-headed idiots.”

“Don’t call Ginny an idiot!” He gives her a half-hearted smile.

Hermione raises an eyebrow. “She’s going to marry the Boy Who Lived. By choice. They’re made for each other, but she’s walking into trouble with that one and you know it. He can’t help but blunder headlong into every disaster that crosses his path. I think there’s at least a little bit of idiot in that.”

“Alright, that’s fair,” he says. “And I’ll give you Ron. He let you go, didn’t he?”

“It was--” She stops, narrowing her eyes at him. “Don’t change the subject.”

“You saw that, then?” His lips twist in an almost smile.

“I’m clever.”

Suddenly intense, he says, “You are! And that’s why I don’t understand…” He makes a vague gesture that seems to encapsulate all of him. “Why me?” His eyes plead with her, begging her to help him to see.

It’s too much. She closes her eyes and turns her face to the sun, letting the warmth sink into her skin. Hogwarts has always been a place of restoration, a place she can settle into and feel whole; it’s taken some time, but it’s finally starting to feel that way again.

After a minute or two she turns back to George; her eyes must be overflowing with her irritation because he takes a hesitant step back. “Why do I have to keep defending myself, George? I don’t have to rationalize my decisions. They’re my decisions.” She pokes him in the chest and he’s so startled he almost trips trying to back away from her. But she presses. “Why are you here, George Weasley?”

George opens and closes his mouth a few times. He looks like a goldfish in a bowl; if not for her frustration she might have laughed at his ridiculous face. Instead she just looks at him, arms across her chest, waiting for his answer.

But he doesn’t seem to have one.

In that moment everything extra falls away; he’s just a broken boy, confused and hurting. She takes one of his hands in both of hers. She doesn’t have any words, but hopefully this is enough.

No, she has words. She’s just not sure they’re the right words.

You don’t look at me and see a know-it-all schoolgirl, she wants to say. You don’t see the one who always has to be right, the one who lives to please her teachers. You see me. Hermione Granger. You make me laugh when I’m sad. You understand when I need to be quiet. You don’t try to fill the silences with extra sounds.

Standing there, holding hands, looking into each other’s eyes, she thinks, You have written your name on my heart. But that is far too big to thrust at him in this fragile moment, so she tucks it away. Holding his hand will have to be enough.

*

“You don’t want me, Hermione.” She wants to reach out to him, to reassure him, but she holds herself still. He’s staring at the sky; she wonders if he sees the stars or if he’s too lost to notice.

A bout of muffled laughter erupts from the Burrow, unintentionally mocking George’s words. In unspoken agreement they take a few slow steps into the darkness of the garden, until the sounds of mirth behind them fade to a soft murmur.

George glances over his shoulder, the distant glow from the house behind them momentarily shines in his eyes. After a moment he looks back to the sky. “Half of me...half of me died with my brother,” he says, a small catch in his voice. “These past months, since he’s been gone...I’m only half a person. You deserve better than half a person.”

She looks up at the stars too. So far away, they keep shining for time out of mind. Even the ones that have already given their lives in a final flash of brilliance, becoming stardust, still shine.

“But I’m not whole either, George. The war, the horcruxes, they took pieces of me that--it’s like your ear. Some things can’t grow back.” She takes a steadying breath. “Did anyone ever tell you about my parents?”

“Your parents?”

“I sent them away. I didn’t want anyone to hurt them to get to me. Or have them just be collateral damage. But I didn’t just...before I sent them away I…” She presses the back of her hand to her mouth to contain the sob that’s trying to bubble out. “I modified their memories,” she whispers. “I erased myself from their lives. Because they were safer without a daughter.”

George turns to her, eyes wide. She answers his question before he can ask, saying, “I found them as soon as I could, and they’re fine. Things were a bit confusing for awhile--they couldn’t understand why they’d suddenly desired an extended holiday in Australia--but it turned out alright. They don’t remember forgetting me. But every time I look at them I remember them smiling at me--and then asking my name. Sometimes I think that hurt worse than Bellatrix’s torture.” She shudders, hugging her arms to her chest.

“It’s not the same, George. I know that. But aren’t we both a bit broken? Together...maybe together we make...well, one messed up human being. Messed up, but...maybe whole. And maybe we can be happy.”

She offers him a tiny, teary smile. “Shouldn’t we at least try to be happy? To grab on tight to even a sliver of hope? If we didn’t fight the war for that, I don’t know what it was all for.”

She bites her lower lip, then reaches out a hand to him, palm up. Inviting him to take a step. A leap of faith.

“I’m not who I was before, Hermione.”

“I--” she starts, but he cuts her off.

“Let me finish.” He searches her eyes, and he must see what he’s looking for because he breathes out something that sounds like relief. “I’m not who I was before, and I don’t think I ever will be again. With Fred gone…” He shrugs. “It’s like losing a limb. You can adapt to life without it, even get a new one, but no matter what you do you’re fundamentally changed.”

Something cracks in her chest. She lets her hand fall to her side.

“Wait,” he says, taking her hand and pulling her towards him until their clasped hands are resting on his chest. His palm is rough and warm, permanently calloused from so many years holding a broomstick, and she can feel the rapid beating of his heart. “I’m different, yeah. But Fred would smack a bludger straight at me if he could see me like this. I don’t want to wallow, Hermione. I want to hold onto…” His voice fades into the darkness, and she smiles softly.

“Hope?” she finishes for him.

“Hope,” he repeats. “And maybe…” He takes a shuffling step forward, and now the only space between them is occupied by their intertwined hands. “And maybe you. If you’ll let me.”

Her already racing heart skips a beat.

Had she ever noticed the tingle of starlight before this moment? Is it the chill of the spring night making her shiver, or is it something else?

With her free hand she reaches up to cup his jaw, her thumb lightly brushing against his cheekbone. “I think I’d like that,” she says, and somehow manages to let only the slightest quaver come through in her voice.

He presses her palm to his chest then puts both arms around her, pulling her even closer. “Hermione.” It’s almost a plea.

“Yes,” she breathes, and then she rises up on her toes to press her lips to his.

[mari-onberry]

i want you and i want him

Read on ao3

When Katara woke up that morning, she had no idea how important the day would be. But then she got a call from Aang. 

“Katara?” He whispered from the other side of the line. “We need to talk.”

If it was anyone else, she would’ve assumed he was about to break up with her. But this was Aang, and last time she checked, he was madly in love with her. 

“It’s about Zuko.” He sounded nervous, his voice shaky, but Katara understood why. Zuko was his new roommate, and the two of them didn't get along that well. She just hoped that Zuko hadn’t done anything bad, since both of them were pretty open about their attraction to him, and Katara had trusted that he was a good person.  

“Okay, Aang. Why do you want to talk about him?” She tried to say this as quietly as possible, since her brother was in the other room, most likely asleep. 

“Well, I think I’m really falling for him,” he confessed, almost embarrassed, but continued to explain. “I keep watching the way he chews on his pencil when he gets frustrated with schoolwork, or when he falls asleep on the couch after a long day and I can hear him snoring softly. Everything he does, is just so--” Cute? That wasn’t the right word to describe Zuko, he was actually quite intimidating, “It’s just so amazing. It’s just like how I fell for you.” Katara and Aang met in high school, and the situation was quite similar. Aang watched her during class when he should’ve been studying. 

Katara really wanted to keep her voice down now that they were talking about their feelings for Zuko. She hadn’t exactly told Sokka about that yet, and she dreaded even thinking about it. “Okay, so what’s the plan? Is he even available?” Zuko didn't really seem like the type to date, but that could just be because of his attitude, and Katara didn't want to assume anything about him until she actually talked to him about it. But even if he was open to dating, the odds that he would be into both of them were slim, and even slimmer that he would be open to whatever type of relationship they wanted to pose. 

Aang hadn’t really thought this through, and he was mainly just counting on Katara to help him with a solution. But when asked, he thought about what he wanted out of this, regardless of anyone’s opinion about it. “I want him to know. Even if it ruins everything, even if it makes life here a thousand times more awkward, I want him to know. He deserves to know.” 

Katara wasn’t surprised by this, but she would’ve taken her own approach to it. Even though she was pretty sure about her feelings, hers weren’t as concrete as Aang’s. Her feelings were only just starting, despite how intense they were. But ultimately, she agreed with him; her feelings may be just starting to grow, but she wanted to explore them with Zuko, rather than from afar. And the best way to do that was to confess. “Okay. Tonight, then? After school?” 

That time frame scared him, but there was no reason to put it off. “Tonight.”

Katara was finding it impossible to focus during class that day, but once she made it through, her head was clear. After making the decision with Aang, she was determined to finish what they had agreed to do. She walked to Aang and Zuko’s shared dorm as soon as she got out of class.

Zuko answered when Katara knocked. “Katara? Why are you here?” He wasn’t used to seeing her without Aang. They went everywhere together, and she was over here almost as often as Aang was, but she was never by herself. For a split second, he let himself be happy she felt comfortable enough around him to come here alone. Then she shattered that with her response. 

"Zuko, where's Aang?" She asked. She had expected him to be there. She needed him there if she was going to have the courage to do this. 

"I haven't seen him since this morning. I assumed you would know where he is."

Katara swallowed her feelings. She had promised herself she would do this today, and she had no idea when Aang would be back, so she needed to do this now. Without him. Although it didn't seem like Aang to just ditch her like this, she could understand if that was the truth. But she wasn't bold enough to get right to the point. "Oh, never mind, it's nothing." She tried to sit down on Zuko's bed as calmly as possible. "It's just," she paused and stared at a point on the wall just beyond him, "There's someone I have feelings for."

Zuko was rightly shocked, as he hadn't expected Katara to be the kind of person to talk about such things so openly, and he couldn't believe she would ask him for this type of advice. "Oh," was all he could think of to say.

Katara pressed harder into the topic, now too determined to chicken out. "He is a little clueless, but I just want him to know because I'm hoping there's a chance he might like me back." She had previously hoped her words would come out sounding better than that, and she was having a hard time not beating around the bush. It was one thing to practice confessing in the mirror, but it was completely different actually saying these things to his face. Despite his awkwardness, Aang's confession to Katara was actually sweet and thoughtful, and it went rather smoothly. Granted, that was a different situation, but it also made Katara lost when it came to her confession to Zuko. 

That sounds a lot like Aang, Zuko thought, and subconsciously wished he had someone that thought that much of him. And another, even smaller, part of him wished that person was Aang or Katara. 

"He's kind, even if he doesn't show it all the time. He's strong and powerful, but he doesn't use that power except to help others," Katara continued to gush, and Zuko agreed with every point she made, thinking they were about Aang. Aang was amazing, and even though they started out hating each other, they had developed an unbelievably strong friendship.

Then, Zuko had a quick question that he had no idea would be such a big deal. "Aren't you already dating Aang?" When Zuko had first met them, he had just assumed they were together because of the way they acted towards each other. And when Katara looked at him blankly, he added, "I thought you were supposed to be describing a crush. But you and Aang are already together."

She just blinked at Zuko through confused eyes. "What?" 

"You're talking about Aang, right?"

Katara looked about ready to laugh. "Zuko, this isn't about him." She looked Zuko in the eye, trying to clue him in on what she meant.

"Why not? He's clearly in love with you." 

Katara's attempts to clear things up only made Zuko more confused. She took a deep breath and tried to explain as best she could while not outright confessing all her feelings right then and there. "I am with Aang. But that's not who I'm talking about. I'm in love with someone else."

This surprised Zuko, since Katara was the last person he ever expected would cheat, and he felt a little offended on Aang's behalf, but he humored her. He was a little curious, after all. "Really? Who is it?" 

Katara almost wanted to roll her eyes; this was getting to be a little much. Zuko was completely clueless. Even though she had a plan, she was forced to improvise because of Zuko's inability to recognise love. She was also getting a little embarrassed just thinking of confessing. "Zuko..." she started, suddenly nervous. Her hands twitched toward her phone. She wanted Aang's support in this moment, since he was the one who convinced her to do this in the first place.

"Katara, what are you trying to say? You're not making any sense."

She put the phone back into her pocket and opened her mouth to say something, anything that would explain her behavior, but she couldn't think of anything but the truth, and merely thinking about confessing made her want to puke. She closed her eyes, and just before she gave up and left, she felt a soft buzz from her phone, as if Aang was there, trying to tell her to stay calm. That helped Katara to keep her head clear and think of an approach to this problem. 

She moved her hand to hover just next to his arm, hesitating to commit to giving him  a reassuring touch, but once she opened her mouth to talk, she knew there was no going back. She shifted her hand and planted it firmly on the inside of his wrist, inches away from his hand. "This guy I like, I didn't always like him. When I first met him, I thought he was the worst guy I had met in a long time. He was rash, and obsessive, and angry. But as I got to know him, I understood him more, and I realized that those are the things I liked about him." She slid her hand down to line up with his, hoping with all her might that he would get the hint. "And now he's one of my favorite people. Since I didn't even like him at first, it was a long way to fall." She waited for him to react, and in the dead silence she started to spiral into regret. But then, be spoke up.

"You like me?" 

That made Katara pine even harder. Despite how he usually acted, he was sometimes so fragile she wished she could just hold him in place so he wouldn't fall apart. After her confession, she hoped he would let her. She slowly began nodding. "Yes, Zuko. I like you." 

"But, what about Aang?" He asked, and it was a valid question. She was just about to answer it when the man himself walked through the door, flustered and out of breath. Zuko immediately jumped up, hoping Aang wouldn't see him as a threat to his relationship with Katara in that moment.

"Sorry I'm late," he said in between breaths. "I wanted to pick something up before--" he looked between Zuko, who looked more nervous than should be humanly possible, and Katara, who was still sat on the bed, a rather smug look on her face. He then knew what had happened. "Katara, what are you doing?" There was anger in his voice, enough to make Zuko jump, but Katara didn't seem the slightest bit bothered. 

Zuko started to stumble over words. "I can explain, it wasn't what it looked like--"

Aang spoke right over him. "You did this without me?" He seemed hurt, but not for the reason Zuko thought.

"I'm sorry, but you were late and I was worried you had chickened out." 

Aang's face melted from hurt to forgiveness, but before he could say anything else, Zuko interrupted. "Can someone please tell me what's happening?"

Aang turned towards Zuko, realizing how confused he must be. “Zuko, I know this might be weird, but Katara came here to confess to you. And if she actually waited for me to show up,” he gave a playful, teasing look at his girlfriend, “I was gonna confess, too.”

Zuko didn't know how to respond to that. “You’re kidding, right?” There was no way Zuko could believe this was real. It had to be a prank, or a misunderstanding. “Why would you joke about this? I thought you two were honest people.”

“Zuko, no, listen to us,” Katara tried to change his mind, but he was already convinced. He ran out the door without another word. Katara looked at Aang, speechless. “Well, that could’ve gone better.” Aang looked like he wanted to run after him, but he knew that wasn’t the best idea. Katara put his thoughts into words. “We should give him space.”

So, they did give him space. But sooner or later, they knew he would have to come back to the dorm, and then they would try to explain. They sat, talking, for what seemed like forever, and by that time, they were really getting worried that he might not come back. But just as they were about to give in and go look for him, they heard a shuffling at the door. They jumped up, suddenly nervous again, but once they saw Zuko open the door, face stained with tears, both of them melted. 

“You’re still here?” Zuko asked, shocked that they had waited here for him. He was really convinced that they were joking with him. He tried to wipe his tears away as casually as possible before walking towards them. 

“Of course. We didn't want to abandon you," Aang explained.

That made Zuko question what he previously thought. If they stayed here, they must really care. 

"Zuko, it's okay. You don't have to run away. I understand if you don't believe us, but we don't hate you, and this isn't some childish prank," Aang tried to explain to him. 

He started to believe them. 

"Are you alright? Forget about earlier, we just want to know if you're okay," Katara said, in the most soothing tone she could muster.

Now, he wasn't sure if he believed himself. He told himself he was fine, but he had just cried for about an hour, and he was only going back to his room to retrieve his phone. He was glad that they were still there, or else he might've called his sister, and that never ended well. "I'm fine," he tried to say, but his voice caught in his throat. He didn't want to cry again, in fact, he felt much safer now that he was home and surrounded by people who cared about him. But despite that, he still could feel the tears start to come. “I’m still confused, but thank you for staying,” he managed to get out. Then, seeing Aang and Katara’s faces of pity didn't help the situation, either, and he finally gave in to his feelings and let out a sob. 

That made Katara want to hold him in her arms, to help him feel secure, but she knew he wouldn’t be the most comfortable with either of them doing that. And Katara wasn’t the type of person to initiate a hug that often, and the moments for them came rarely with even Aang. 

Aang seemingly read her mind, but was courteous enough to ask, “Can we hug you?” 

At first, Zuko said nothing, and didn't even move an inch; he just held his face with his hands and let his body shake as he cried. They both wanted to tell him it was alright, that he could just let his feelings out, but they also knew it wasn’t really their place. That was the point of their plan to confess today, actually, to make it their place to help him. And even if that just meant being closer as friends, neither of them would be disappointed. Then, Zuko stumbled forward and leaned his face on Aang’s chest. It was quite a surprise, but Aang just went with it, wrapping his arms around Zuko as calmly as possible. He looked to Katara, who just seemed stunned, and nodded to her, giving her permission to join him in holding Zuko together. She did, and Zuko leaned into her as well, and cried into both of their shoulders. Neither of them had seen him this vulnerable, nor had they expected to ever see him like this. 

Suddenly, he stood up straight and tried his best to stop crying enough to speak. “Sorry, it all just came out at once, and--” he wiped away a few tears. “And, I’ve never done this before. I’ve barely made friends with anyone, and I was ready to give up hope,” 

Katara stopped him before he could continue being so negative. “Zuko, you are worthy of love. And we’re the evidence. You are loved.” 

Zuko smiled. 

Aang added onto what Katara had started. “You’re a good person, and now that you have us, we’ll never let anyone else say otherwise.” 

His smile widened. “Thank you guys. I do feel better now. And I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but, like I said, I’ve never even had close friends before, so I’d like to try starting with that.”

“Of course, we understand. We’d be happy to be your friends,” Aang answered. 

“We both still care for you a lot, no matter what type of relationship,” Katara added. “Just know that we’re here if you ever need to get anything off your chest.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Zuko replied, and felt content for possibly the first time in his life.

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, VICTORIA! You’ve been accepted for the role of BERTRAM. Admin Julie: Ring ring, Vic, it’s me, the bringer of good news -- albeit, a little late! Your application for Beau was literally everything I wanted and more. From the not-so-subtle allusions to pop culture and media which Beau would likely be obsessed with, to how Beau’s world revolves around Beau, you hit the nail on the head. I’m especially interested to see how he will grow, change, fail, and adjust to the world around him as it spins on its axis, especially with the Capulets and Montagues ready to go at each others’ throats. I was overjoyed to see your app in the inbox, and I’m just as overjoyed to have this fool of a man on the dashboard. Thank you! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Victoria

Age | 24

Preferred Pronouns | she/her

Activity Level | I’m always available on mobile, and I try to knock out a few replies every other day unless I manage to queue.

Timezone | EST

Triggers | none that aren’t already listed

How did you find the rp?  | Rosey

Current/Past RP Accounts | I currently write Katarina Du Pont !

IN CHARACTER

Character | Your desired character’s alias -

Beau Renaud, Bertram. // with a faceclaim change to Zane Holtz and if I could age him up to 32, I’d appreciate it! It gives me the time to have Beau attend university in Paris and ‘build’ a career that would make it plausible for him to have bought his way to the top, ruined it for himself, and then crawled back to his mothers to have ‘earned’ his position at L’Arena.

What drew you to this character? | We’d love to hear what about this character’s bio caught your attention! Make this as long or as short as you desire!

On Beau Renaud–

What drew me to Beau Renaud the most was how fun he is– how shallow, and perfectly flawed this dastardly human being is who jumps out from his biography and reeks of Creed Aventus during the week and Bleu de Chanel on the weekends with a voice as sickly sweet as a macaron. Quite frankly, he’s the type of person I’d want to punch in the face, but my god after reading his biography I was dumbfounded by how much I adored him. Maybe it’s because of how light he feels, in comparison to some of the other characters here in DiVerona. Maybe it’s his blissful ignorance towards his own flaws while he attempts to navigate the flawed lives within Verona. Maybe I just love the idea of writing someone so garishly grand and loves themselves for it. Or, maybe it’s because there’s something terribly alluring about writing a man who really is in it for himself: without the violence, with only a love for the beautiful things in life.

Beau Renaud is a man adored, but not a man loved. And there’s something terribly lonely about this. There’s something haunting in the lack of genuine connection he has with people. There is something… Lonely about being an only child, but one that is seen not as himself, but as the living failed embodiment of his parents ambitions. It’s about the glitter and gold, it’s all about an opulent party and the adrenaline rush of the interactions. But, it’s not about heart. Strangely enough, terribly enough, it’s not about Beau’s heart. He’s not nearly ruined enough to be hailed a Dorian Gray for his sins, but… It’s quite something to realise that he’s as clueless as Dorian was at the beginning of Oscar Wilde’s novel.

At the end of the day, he is simply a man born in the wrong era. Beau Renaud would not have been found at fault if he’d been born in the Edwardian era or sooner. And it’s almost laughable, that his engagement to Daphne Allard is nearly exactly that of every American millionaire’s daughter who had gone to Europe in hopes to marry a man who had what they lacked: lineage and rank. It’s a call back to Downton Abbey, it’s Consuelo Vanderbilt marrying the 9th Duke of Marlborough, it’s the Gilded Age of British aristocracy (who were quietly growing too poor to maintain their grand estates) marrying commoners for their considerable dowries. Beau Renaud would have fit right in. He comes from a sumptuous bloodline after all, and the man does need his funding to fit the lifestyle he loves.

I almost hate admitting it, how alluring this man is. But, that’s Beau for you. You adore him, but you don’t love him. There’s something terribly ugly about how beautiful this man is, how handsomely grotesque he manages to be in his vanity and near blindness. You love the parties, the escapism, the way he is accessible and a self-proclaimed neutral. Yet, you hate him for the same exact reasons. Friend or foe is a game to be played in Verona. Is he bright enough, at least, to play it to survival? Animals do whatever it takes to survive, and Beau will do whatever it takes to make sure he does. But, will he survive in Verona? I want to write him because I’d like to be the first to find out.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? | Where do you see this character developing, and what kind of actions would you have them take to get there? 3 future plot ideas would be preferable.

Everywhere and nowhere, down the rabbit hole and to Hadestown we go. This is where we find Beau Renaud. This is where we find parts of his story and where his life might lead– but you won’t find his ending written anywhere. At least, not yet.

Dorian Gray – a moment in literature

It’s almost laughable how comparable Beau Renaud is to the Dorian Gray we are introduced to at the beginning of Oscar Wilde’s only novel. They both know nothing but of the grandeur their lifestyles have afforded them, they know their childish selfishness– they have some grasp at the desire to please others and fit in. But while Dorian’s greatest catalysts are, arguably, an unnamed book and Lord Henry Wotton, our dear Bertram has spent a year in Verona remaining the same neutral, same untainted and self-centered man that had arrived from Paris. He’s a modern Dorian, who knows the spoils of narcotics and what money can buy. But in the case of Dorian’s descent into debauchery and extremes of unforgivable sin, Beau has yet to descend from his harmless (though blind) perch beside his beautiful fiancee. I won’t define the catalyst, because this is dependent on many factors in Beau’s life: who he makes friends or enemies with, the decisions he makes in terms of his position at L’Arena, the information he may or may not learn. But it is a precarious place where he sits. He is determined to survive, determined to live in his lighthearted merriment as a socialite. This greed for himself was known to him in France, but Verona has a way of bringing out the darkest and most wretched desires of its occupants. His priority is himself– How far down into sin is he willing to go to ensure it? Can he be brought to violence? He’s already sinful enough, witty enough to buy people off to secure his safety– to one extreme, can his sly tongue and position at L’Arena buy his safety within a mob? If his descent to Hell is to follow that of Dorian Gray, Beau is destined to utter doom. Years and years of debauchery and unholy acts are to follow him, plague him. Anything to survive, anything to enjoy still his beauty and his life. Whatever it takes to win. At least, until his guilt eventually catches up to him. But, will it?

Scarlett O’Hara, Prince Charming – a moment in film

His own survival is his greatest priority. His marriage guarantees him this– just like Scarlett O’Hara’s second marriage to Frank Kennedy and following marriage to Rhett Butler, and not unlike Shrek 2’s Prince Charming and his betrothal to the unfortunately, unknowingly already married Princess Fiona. Beau, Scarlett, and Prince Charming are all characterized by their greed and ignorance. Scarlett wants to survive and is willing to marry whoever it might be that will allow her to continue to live in comfort. However, as she pines for another, she is ignorant to the love that has been in front of her since before the Civil War. In the end, she’s too late to realise it. Prince Charming, on the other hand, had been promised the hand of Princess Fiona and the kingdom to follow. He shows that he’s willing to resort to manipulation and violence to achieve what he so ardently desires, having grown up promised he would have it all. Beau is engaged to the beautiful Daphne Allard: he’s been promised riches and the lifetime of a socialite as her husband. But, is that all this is? Is he Scarlett, marrying only for money? Prince Charming had wanted love, but what does Beau want? The chill to the air when the two are alone in a room is practically suffocating, freezing him from the inside out, unnerving the charming, rogue-ish grin that dances along his expression. Though this is certainly a business arrangement, Beau cannot help but wish for, at least, friendship between himself with his soon to be wife. His charm, his grace had failed him with her in the months that had followed his arrival in Verona. And though as of late he’s not thought much of his fiancee, there is still some deeper part of him (whether or not he would be open to admitting it, or Daphne would be receptive enough to hear it and believe him is certainly a question) that wishes to try. She sees him as Hades. But, wasn’t Hades the most loyal, most benevolent of his brothers?

The Confession, Sir Francis Dicksee – a moment in art

Would he be the confessor one day? Or, would she? Daphne, he wishes to know as his future wife, Lillian he wishes to know as… What? Both women are brilliant and sparkling jewels in Verona, revered as they are for their money and poise. But, what would it take for him to open up? What would he have to do, or say, to make one, or both of them allow their truths to tumble from their lips? Words, beautiful words can and do shine as luminously as they do on their own. Truth can be uncovered no matter how prettily laced they can be, and he is no stranger to the wit and charm required to undo such beautiful wrappings. Or, would their truths dim their light? Would it marr their facades of utter perfection? He’s so very curious about Lillian. How is it possible for one to be so good? He can practically feel Daphne slipping further and further away from him. But, when it comes to both women, could their truths hurt him, damage him in some way? When it comes to his fears and deepest desires, and even his unaddressed shame at having his mothers both so cuttingly tell him he was never meant for greatness and lacked the proper ambition and intelligence that they’d wished for him, when will it come to light? Who would he ever confess it to? It’s true, he’s shrouded in darkness, in a mystery of ignorance and laughter, but there is a hollowness to it. A year in Verona has brought a sense of desperation to the frenzy of weekly galas and parties that offer an escape from the harsh realities of each day, each week spent in this city. Perhaps, one day he will confess. Maybe, one day he will uncover a darker world of hurt and pain and truth within himself. But, after confession comes repentance. Does he have it in himself to ever do such a thing?

Versailles, Gossip Girl – a moment in television

As far as story arcs go, no matter how much he might try to remain neutral, Beau Renaud is a socialite that’s had his hands in ruin of his own name in the past. Was this ruin nearly anything as terrible as what goes on in Verona? No. In the glimmering world of being of a good name and household, being the son of the right parents is everything. He is their legacy, their smiles and laughter, their triumphs. The upper class would be nothing without a healthy dose of nepotism. For Beau, Verona is nothing like Paris. In fact, it’s nearly as though he’s been thrown into some bizarre amalgamation of Gossip Girl meets Versailles. There is intrigue and drama, there is murder and poison, there are vile things lurking beneath the surface of every sparkling thing that Verona has to offer and violence at every turn, paranoia running rampant as he looks over his shoulder every day. In the past months it’s finally sunk in that he’s in the middle of a mob war, with one side choking him and the other with a dagger in his side daring him to publish anything that leans more to one side or another. He’s privy to many secrets, yes, but he is nowhere near powerful nor as connected here in Verona. Either he develops towards a path where he stakes his claim and stands his ground as a keeper of secrets to harness his own power, he remains a neutral puppet dancing merrily on strings like a marionette doll, or he joins a mob. Whichever direction he goes in, however he develops as a character has yet to be seen. But, it will not be without struggle. It will be filled with anguish and strife, hardship that he has never known: because this is Verona, and he is not immune to his environment; because in order to survive, he must choose and he will suffer no matter which path he should set himself onto. Versailles’ court would have been simpler to navigate. Perhaps, though, Beau Renaud would end up in a ditch before he can decide. Maybe, he’ll be responsible for a death or two– either by his own hand, or as a result of news published to L’Arena. The possibilities are endless for this pretty bird with clipped wings. And, to think: he only thought he’d be moving to Verona to marry a rich, pretty girl and a new career that he could slack off on easily.

Welcome to year 2 in Verona, darling. Xoxo Gossip Girl

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | End him. But make it pretty.

IN DEPTH

Please choose between the interview or the para sample (or both, if you like!)

In-Character Interview: The following questions must be answered in-character, and in para form (quotations, actions written out if applicable, etc). There is no minimum or maximum limit for your response - simply answer as you would if you were playing the character.

What is your favorite place in Verona?

“How could I ever choose?” He leans back in his seat, eyes dancing with merriment as he grins. “This place–” Beau’s hand comes up to gesture towards the view beyond the patio where they sit, fingers sweeping towards the view of Verona before it resettles again in his lap. “Is so beautiful.” His chin turns next, blue eyes focusing on the city in the distance, chiseled jaw emphasized by the light as the curve of his mouth softens to the practiced look of fondness. “Verona is no Paris,” This, he admits as though it were a secret, louder than a murmur so that the other can hear him, but soft enough that he nearly seems embarrassed to admit it. “But, it is something else.” His brow quirks slightly at the interviewer’s direction, ever so dynamic, ever so engaging. “But, I suppose if I have to pick a place, it would have to be The Twelfth Night.” The artwork reminds him of the museums he used to stroll around, and The Tempest reminds him of the nightlife he had been so accustomed to in Paris. This isn’t home, but it needs to be. It will be, after he marries Daphne in November. “There’s a certain charm to this city, and it is… Beautiful. There’s nothing quite like it.”

What does your typical day look like?

“–Well, I take Quaaludes 10-15 times a day for my “back pain”, Adderall to stay focused, Xanax to take the edge off, pot to mellow me out, cocaine to wake me back up again, and morphine… Well, because it’s awesome.” He’s since turned his face back to the interviewer in full, quoting The Wolf of Wall Street without so much a blink in hesitation. But then he snorts, and a playful expression comes over his handsome features. “I’m kidding. I saw it in a movie once, and I thought it was funny.” A chuckle tumbles from Beau’s lips as he crosses his legs in easy elegance. Though as burly as he is, it’s almost surprising someone like him is so smooth. He attributes this to the ballroom dancing lessons he’d begun as a child, and none of it to the swimming and boxing he does to stay fit now. “My typical day is like anyone’s that works an office job. Wake up to an alarm that’s too early for comfort, check my phone, have an espresso shot or two to get going before I get ready and am out the door. My work at L’Arena is blessedly streamlined by my personal assistant Sophie as I also have a hand in planning a few charity events a month.” When the interviewer looks surprised, Beau shrugs good-naturedly. “I was not so lucky to be in such a position in Paris. After all, I am my mother’s son, and she is quite the philanthropist herself.”

What has been your biggest mistake thus far?

His brows furrow, mouth falling open before it partially shuts in an exhale of contemplative breath. This is a question he had not expected and later he’d have Sophie send a damning email to the head of this magazine for not sticking to the approved questions. The subtle pout to his lips makes it evident that he is less than pleased. “I suppose…” A blink, then another. Then a laugh as he shakes his head at the interviewer, bringing that charming smile back to his features. “Not learning Italian more quickly? I’d say I am quite passable now, but, perhaps if I had not studied English throughout my education, I could have learned Italian instead.” Reaching for the mimosa before him, Beau takes a sip before he continues. “No,” He teases with a faux contemplative look into his half-empty flute. “I think my biggest mistake was not proposing to Daphne in Paris. I think it would have been more picturesque, more romantic that way. But, she accepted, despite the location. That’s all that matters to me.”

What has been the most difficult task asked of you?

This is both a question and answer he knows, and with a softening look in his eyes that he smiles once more, absentmindedly rolling the stem of his glass as he speaks. “Finalising the design of Daphne’s ring. I wanted it to be unique to her, to the jeweler and design house, and I wanted it to be like nothing anyone had ever seen before. So, we’d pulled from archives, looking for a way to better conceptualise what I was looking to create. And, in the end, we were able to accomplish it.” Beau nearly seems fond of the memory, but when the ring itself is a testament to him, why wouldn’t he be? His pride glows like something glimmering and warm, but deep down the most difficult task was abandoning Paris– abandoning the beautiful city he knew every inch of for the grotesque little city of Verona.

What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?

He has half a mind to throw this interviewer out of his home. What sort of interview was this? But before his displeasure makes itself known, it is covered up by his sitting up and expression changing to one of surprise, brows raising once more as remnants of his smile still curve at his lips. “I’m not here to make a political statement, my friend. And– I do run a news outlet here in Verona that’s unbiased.” He nods towards today’s edition of L’Arena that sits artfully amongst the breakfast spread on the table between them, voice taking on a more wistful, more passionate tone than before: just like his mothers had taught him. Beau appears vulnerable, but only just so as a man that wants not to focus on what festers in Verona– one that clearly still clings to the beauty of the day to day. “There is so much violence and decay in the world–” He pauses to shake his head as if he can cast out the past few months from his head. “–So much darkness. But, I don’t think we should let ourselves be consumed by the ugliness of it in our day to day lives.” His hand gestures towards the food, then he grins wider as he raises his hand to gesture towards the view. “We should enjoy it: the beauty of the day. Now, please. Let’s not put this food to waste, hm?”

Extras: If you have anything else you’d like to include (further headcanons, an inspo tag, a mock blog, etc), feel free to share it here! This is OPTIONAL.

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