#but they’re here till the third. I leave Today
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And thus my Petty Bitch arc begins
#it’s gonna be a very short arc to be fair#but. I bought Everything for the dorm right#and my roommate is a total DICK#but they’re here till the third. I leave Today#and so I am taking all the garbage bags toilet paper wipes paper towels and soap with me#it ain’t much But considering all the stuff they’ve pulled it’s what they Deserve#and the SECOND I turn in my key they’re getting blocked on Everything#so! fun times all around!#cannot WAIT to be free#honestly living with them was the worst part of the entire year#not classes. not exams. not even the Hours on Hours of homework#just. having to exist in their general vicinity#if I were any more of a bitch I would be taking cuttings of their plants and Maybe watering them with some Chemicals#the only way they’ll be allowed to interact with me from this point on is if they decide to Actually follow through on a promise#they were supposed to give me their viola in exchange for a couple books#they got their books but I’m yet to get the viola#and they’ve stolen at least $100 from me so I WANT THE FUCKING VIOLA ACE#anyways!! just a few more hours to freedom!!
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love you till my lungs give out
paige bueckers x reader
word count- 2k(lord)
notes: this fic was such a great write for me, as it focuses around eating disorders, which is something i’ve personally struggled with. i know this is a sensitive topic, so please, if this makes you uncomfortable, scroll away, or read at your own risk.
thanks to: literally the biggest thanks ever to @melpthatsme for dming me your idea and helping me work through it, i really could not have done this without you, so everyone thank them
also thanks to @imaginespazzi and @bueckersstrap for reacting to my random messages about this
—
the first time it happened, i barely realized i did it.
“paigey, my head hurts so bad right now. like, im gonna die right here,” i groan, hiding my face in the fabric of her hoodie, trying to lock out any stray amounts of light coming from the covered windows. she runs her hand through my hair, and starts to ever-so-gently massage my temples. i sigh in quiet relief, and then she tries to pull me up to lay on top of her.
“uh uh, paige, no,” i say. i try to shake my head at her, but a bolt of pain flies through me, forcing my head back down.
“jus’ tryna help you get comfy, ma,” she whispers, bundling me up in a blanket and pulling me back into her side. she moves her warm hands up and under my t-shirt, but i squirm about, complaining that they’re too cold, even though i’ve never felt anything more soft and warm, so she moves them back over my shirt. but i don’t notice it, not really. and neither does she.
the second time, i know what i did.
“so, what should we order to eat?” paige asks, scrolling on her phone for different options.
“mm, what if i cooked here, for something different! i can make you a grilled cheese,” i joke, nudging her arm with my shoulder. “that’s all i know how to cook anyway.”
she giggles, standing up with me and following me to the kitchen. she hoists herself onto the counter, and watches me intently as i pull out the things for a sandwich. i grin at her, moving to step in between her legs and take her face in my hands.
“you’re so cute,” i say, pressing a kiss to her nose. she hops off of the counter and follows me to the stove. paige is just too sweet to me sometimes. i’m cooking dinner for her, the least i can do, really, and she’s cozied up behind me, arms around my waist her hands are barely touching, she can barely fit them around me and her chin is resting softly on my shoulder. she’s pressing light pecks to whatever area she can reach, and i feel at peace, in the kitchen, for a few moments. then it stops.
“why aren’t you making one for yourself baby?” she asks, spinning me around to lean me against the countertop, forgetting her sandwich beside her.
“i’m feeling, um, nauseous,” i stutter, stumbling over the excuse. she lets me go, though she looks skeptical.
“cmon, just have a bite of mine then. baby, you really need to eat more, that’s probably why you haven’t been feeling very well lately.”
i allow her to feed me a small bite, then quickly use my fingers to silently add that to whatever else i ate today. i read somewhere that to lose weight, you need to burn more calories that you eat. tomorrow, i need to burn around 800. Well, 804 now.
the third time, i think paige noticed something was up.
“ma, this is literally the fourth time you’ve said that you’re cold. just take my fucking hoodie, i’m actually begging you,” she pleads, taking it off and offering it up to me. i shake my head, again, and press myself further into her chest, rubbing my arms to try and make the goosebumps disappear. she pulls me into her, then moves her mouth to my ear.
“is everything okay baby? do you wanna go home?” she whispers, nuzzling my neck with her nose. i shrug, not wanting to make her leave if she wasn’t done chatting with people yet. she makes the decision for me, standing up and tugging me with her. her hand finds its way to the small of my back, and she guides me towards the door. i sway slightly as we stand, blood rushing to my head. i take it as my lack of protein, or anything really, catching up to me. she stops walking, lurching to grab me by both shoulders and bend to eye level with me.
“darling, i want you to be honest with me. what have you eaten today?” i shake my head, feeling my cheeks going red at the thought of her confronting me. i look down, trying to avoid eye contact with her as my eyes fill with tears. she wraps me up into a hug, planting a kiss to the top of my head. she pulls me to the car and helps me in, then climbs into her own door, but makes no move to turn the car on. instead she pulls out her phone and asks me “so, where do you wanna stop and pick up food on our way home?”
“paige, i’m really not that hungry, just tired and need to be with you in bed for the night. can we please just go home?”
she nods, but looks at me skeptically out of the corner of her eye. she must know that all i’ve eaten today is half an energy drink and a piece of gum. i’ll eat something with her tomorrow, i guess. we can go out to lunch together and then when she goes to the gym ill go on a run. then she’ll see that im okay.
the fourth time, or probably the fifth or sixth, really, i don’t notice it, so i don’t think she does either.
“cmere pretty,” paige mumbles, reaching her arms out to me from where she’s laying on the bed. i slowly move to lay next to her, but roll away when she tries to take my sweater off.
“hey, baby, what?” she whines, apparently frustrated by the lack of contact.
“i wanna leave it on, paigey,” i tell her, moving my hand into the waistband of her shorts.
“but i wanna see you, please baby,” i don’t like saying no to her, but this is one thing i very rarely back down on.
“uh uh, sorry. lemme taste you, though,” i respond, moving to tug her shorts down.
“nah, come and sit on my face, cutie.” she smirks at her own words, but i’m not laughing. i scramble off the bed, standing up to black spots in my vision. i stand still, squeezing my eyes shut to get rid of the feeling. i stay there for im not sure how long, when i feel strong arms loop around my shoulders and help me onto the bed. paige helps me lay down, placing my head in her lap, then starts to comb through my hair with her fingers. she doesn’t say anything, and i’m grateful for that. obviously, she just thinks im tired. she knows im okay.
this time, im sure she noticed. it would be hard not to.
i’ve just come home from a run to the gym, dripping in sweat. it’s part of my new routine. i jog a mile and a half to the gym, i walk on a stairmaster or inclined treadmill there, then run home. normally i leave when paige leaves for practice, and come home just as she’s getting home, if not a little before so i can shower before she gets here. today, i must’ve done a little too much, because by the time i walk in the door, my head is spinning. i walk into the kitchen, sitting down at the island and resting my head in my hands, trying to clear my vision. i don’t hear when the door opens.
“baby, are you okay?” i hear. i sit up quickly, startled, then put my head back down immediately, because my vision goes nearly dark again.
“mhm, just tired you know? just got back from a run.”
“you’ve got to take a rest day sometimes, darling,” she coos, taking my face into her hands and pressing a kiss to my nose. i nod, knowing i won’t do it.
sometimes i don’t realize it, but she knows exactly what to do.
i’ve just finished cooking dinner, just some simple spaghetti and a salad. i place her bowl of noodles in front of her, then settle down with my salad. when i stand up to get a glass of water, then come back, i can’t help but notice she’s switched our bowls.
“paigey, could i, possibly, maybe, have my bowl back?” i ask, trying to seem lighthearted.
“oh, yeah, sure,” she answers, sliding it back towards me. but when i try to slide hers back, she stops me.
“nah, you eat that too. seems like you forgot to serve yourself noodles, so ill go make myself a new bowl.” she stands up, but i scramble in front of the stove quicker, blocking her way.
“why would you do that, when i made you a whole bowl? eat it,” i tell her, pointing back to the countertop. she lunges at me, lifting me easily and placing me on the countertop. why would she pick me up? she definitely thought i was too heavy. i bet she leaves after this. she drags her my bowl over, twirls a few noodles onto the fork, and begins to prod my mouth with it.
“cmon honey, just a bite. it’s not like it’s poison, you literally just cooked it,” she presses. i start to shake my head, so she moves the fork and instead swoops in for a kiss. i return her advances eagerly. hoping it distracts her. she moves her head down, pressing open mouthed kisses to my neck, and my mouth falls open. i don’t realize she’s noticed that until she’s setting the forkful of food between my lips and lightly closing them.
“it’s one bite, ma. let’s get it eaten, then you can be done.” i chew, not really having the choice to run and spit it out. once i swallow, she beams at me.
“such a good girl, baby. i’m so proud of you.”
at some point, she wins
“come here now, baby,” paige demands, grasping me by the waist and yanking me in front of her. i’d been about to climb into the shower when she spotted me through the bathroom mirror, stripped down to nothing. she’d grabbed me, pulled me into my room, and positioned us in front of the full-length mirror to the side.
“you see how perfect you are? how pretty?” she mumbles into my ear. i let my eyes flutter shut as she snakes her hand down my body, stopping to circle her finger over my clit. a groan slips out from my lips, and she stops.
“alright, i want you to keep on looking right in the mirror, ma. want you to see how perfectly you take my fingers.” i writhe against her, trying to keep my eyes open and hold myself up at the same time. she plunges three fingers into me. i cry out, locking eyes with her in the mirror, she smirks, the same way she always does when drawing a climax from me. i go boneless. if she hadn’t been holding me so tightly, i would be on the floor.
“now can you see how amazing you are? you don’t gotta change anything about you, i’ll love you no matter what. you should stop listening to what others say, because people that love you, like me, want you, no matter what you look like. i, personally, think you’re perfect. i’ll love you till the day my lungs give out, and even then, i’ll use my last breath to say it again.”
after that, it happens less often. some days, i still forget to eat, and some days even looking at a scale makes me want to throw up. but paige is always there. she’s always there to hold me, or help me eat just a little bit, or to help me lay down and relax after i’ve panicked so hard ive puked into the toilet. one day, looking at her from across the couch, i realize that when she told me she’d love me no matter what, she was telling the truth.
#mutuals💀#paige bueckers#ask#uconn wbb#paige bueckers x reader#cellythe”goat”#celly😗#i love you sisterwifey forever <3#anons😗
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Black Dahlia - 4. Third Squad.
One tragic day changes Dahlia's life forever. Despised by her father and brother, she's spent her entire life trying to be the child and sister she use to be. But nothing she ever does is good enough. She joins the Rider's Quadrant to prove them wrong. Garrick now in his second year has proven he is more than the mark on his skin to his fellow riders, and taken leadership of his own Squad alongside Xaden. Little does he know the girl walking across the parapet is about to send him on a rollercoaster of a year.
Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)
Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist
“What the hell was that?” Dain asks as he rushes after me.
I roll my eyes at him. “Just leave it be Dain.”
I shouldn’t have said it. But I did. Dain was most likely going to go running to our father about it, but I couldn’t care. I was my own person here. No one really cared who I was. I wasn’t going to get any special treatment.
”No, you heard what father said only a few hours ago. And here you are already blowing it.” He hisses at me. Grabbing my arm to turn me to face him.
I rip my arm from his grip and shove him back. Luckily there is enough going on around us for no one to notice. Not exactly a good impression to already be shoving other cadets around.
”I am not blowing anything. I highly doubt Fen Riorson’s son is going to go running back to father and tell him what I said. It will be fine.”
”He could say someone to something else, then word spreads and you get us both in trouble.”
I roll my eyes. “You need to learn that his opinion isn’t everything. Be your own person Dain, you might be surprised what comes of it.” I hiss back before walking off into the crowd, leaving Dain to ponder my words.
All his life Dain tried to please our father in any way he could. Which honestly was easy for him thanks to me. Dain could have gone off the rails and still been the golden child in his eyes. Part of me hoped that this would be a reality check for him. Father wasn’t here to sing his praises, look after him. He was on his own, and no one cared who our father was. If anything it would put a target on our backs.
Dain and I had waited till later in the day to walk the parapet, meaning the rotunda is full of cadets. From what I had heard before climbing the stairs, nearly three hundred cadets had walked the parapet before me. But a decent chunk of those would have fallen victim to the parapet. I had heard countless screams while waiting my turn. It’s easy to tell the first years from the other cadets, standing at the back in small groups or on our own as they stand in squads or friend groups watching us.
A hush falls over the crowd, and I turn to see the last of the cadets walk into the rotunda, followed by Xaden and the other guy who had questioned me about my name. They’re easy to spot in the crowd, both of them towering over the majority of the cadets. Though his friend was significantly taller. Also helps nearly every cadet gives them a wide birth as they walk by to join the second and third years closer to the front.
”Two hundred and ninety of you have survived the parapet to become cadets today.” The all too familiar voice of Commandant Pancheck says, his voice carrying across the rotunda as he gestures to us. As per usual he’s talking with his hands. “Congratulations. Because eighty of you did not.”
Damn. That’s one of the higher numbers I had heard. Clearly the wind had claimed a few extra victims today. Or we had a bunch of cadets willing to kill anyone who stood in their way. Which sadly was not uncommon. But I can tell I’m not the only one with these thoughts, as whispers pick up around me.
”As the Codex says, now you begin the true crucible! You will be tested by your superiors, hunted by your peers and guided by your instincts. Now amount of training or who you are will prepare you for this.” His eyes landing on me before moving elsewhere in the crowd where I know Dain is standing. Wonder if father told him to include that in his speech. “If you survive Threshing, and if you are chosen, you will be riders. Then we’ll see how many of you make it to graduation in three years.”
Three years. I could do this. Despite what Panchek said, my training would give me some advantages early on. I had spent countless hours training various weapons, weight training and running. Enough to prove myself. But after that, no amount of training could guarantee me a dragon at Threshing. Or take the target off my back once everyone knew who I was. The majority would not care who I was, but the marked ones would. And extra obstacle to overcome.
”Your professors will teach you. But it is up to you how well you learn and how you use that knowledge.” He gestures to the professors near the academic hall watching us all, before gesturing to the wingleaders behind him. “But your discipline falls to your units, and your wingleaders. And if I have to get involved…” The sinister smile I’ve seen too many times in my years spreads across his face, one that never fails to send a chill up my spine. “You don’t want me to get involved. But for now I leave you to your wingleaders. And try not to die.”
Easier said than done.
A male with blonde hair steps forward, eyes scanning the cadets in front of him. Just like the other second and third years, his uniform is altered to his liking. An upside to being in the riders quadrant, our uniform policy was on the looser side. His jacket is void of sleeves, in what I assume is a vain attempt to show of his muscles. Which honestly were nothing to talk about compared to some of the other cadets.
”I’m Damon, the senior wingleader of this quadrant and the head of the Fourth Wing. Section leaders and squad leaders, take your positions. Squads take your positions accordingly.”
The cadets before me start to move into formation. Four wings. Three sections in each wing. Three squads in each section. Without the first years, a lot of the squads look quite empty. Obviously taking a hit from last years third years graduating, or not many first years surviving last year.
”First years. When your name is called, take up formation behind your quad leader.” Damon instructs as another wingleader steps forward. A short brunette who barely comes up to his shoulder.
One by one cadets names are read out in quick succession. Each cadet quickly taking their place with their squad. Dain’s name is called for Second Wing, Flame Section, Second Squad. I look up to see him take his place next to a girl with bright pink hair. She immediately scowls at him before turning her attention back to the front. God I hoped she gave him a hard time. And something tells me she would.
I breathe a sigh of relief as they move onto the next squad. I wasn’t going to be with Dain. Part of me had been worried we we’re going to be paired together due to our last name. But apparently luck had been on my side today. But despite that I can’t help but be nervous about where I will be placed. With each name being called, my heart beating faster and faster.
”Tail Section, Fourth Wing.” The brunette calls out.
The last section to be filled. This is where I would be placed. I look over to see the last three squads remaining to be filled. I immediately recognise two of the squad leaders. Xaden and his friend from earlier. Maybe the odds weren’t in my favour. Dain or father where sure to blame me for somehow being placed in a squad run by a marked one. First and Second Squad fill up, leaving one squad left. And one squad leader. Xaden.
”And lastly third squad.” She calls out. “Bodhi Durran.”
A boy that looks so much like Xaden, they could almost be brothers steps forward. As he passes Xaden he gives Bodhi a pat on the back. Definitely family.
”Dahlia Aetos.”
I step forward, feeling majority of the eyes on me as I walk towards my squad. Even Xaden turning to look at me. He hadn’t even turned to watch Bodhi walk forward. In front of him his friend also turns to look at me before briefly looking at Xaden, almost like he was worried or concerned. But Xaden doesn’t look remotely phased by me being in his squad.
I join Bodhi in the formation, standing tall and trying to keep my expression neutral. It doesn't escape me that Xaden's gaze lingers on me for a moment longer before he turns his attention back to the brunette reading off the names. I let out a breath I didn't realise I had been holding, preparing myself for what's to come. Ready to prove that I belong here, no matter what my last name is.
@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch
#fourth wing fanfic#garrick tavis x reader#garrick tavis#garrick tavis imagine#garrick tavis x oc#fourth wing x reader#fourth wing#the fourth wing#fourth wing x oc#dain aetos fanfic#dain aetos
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ORANGE JUICE matt sturniolo
summary: y/n comes back after a few tough months (very much recommend listening to orange juice by noah kahan before reading)
genre: fluff and angst
cw: big TW for recovering and becoming sober :)
a/n: again, theres more info in the songs if this doesn’t make much sense but yeah, hope y’all like it<3, will do more song rec fics, i love them
The triplets called me today, they heard I was better and they were hanging out with Nate and some other friends, so I decided to tag along.
It’s been 6 months on the dot since I got sober, I think they know about it. I’ve kind off disappeared from the face of the earth, changing myself, and I wasn’t sure if some people would approve.
I knock on the door and I’m greeted by Nick immediately, he engulfs me in a hug that lasts about a minute
“nick I missed you too but I think that’s enough” I laughed, trying to unwrap his arms, he eventually does it himself.
“yeah stop hogging her!” Chris says before wrapping his arms around me in yet another never ending hug. After a bit, Im left standing in front of Matt, he’s different, he’s grown a little bit of a beard, barely a beard, more like a stubble, a smile creeps up on my face, a familiar one, a feeling I hadn’t felt in a long time.
“you look great” he smiles at me, coming closer and embracing me in my third hug in the span of 5 minutes, I linger there for a little longer, he sighs and rests his head on the crook of my neck, his words tickle. “I’ve missed you, a lot” I giggle a bit as the stubble brushed against me jawline. I break from the hug as soon as I remember Nick, Chris, and Nate are waiting on us. “I missed you too” I whispered before Nick began ranting on about the things I’ve missed.
“And we’ve been on tour! And we’re going again soon” he explains as the end of his Ted talk comes to an end.
“wow! Thats great, im so happy for you guys” I can’t help but have a huge smile on my face, looking at the three and realizing how much they’ve grown without me, and the fact they’ve waited for me and they’re not mad at me for leaving, no questions asked.
“What have you been up to?” Matt asks with a quiet voice “if you don’t mind us asking” he quickly reassures me I don’t have to say anything I’m not comfortable with.
“Well, I’ve been getting help, doing better now” I leave it there, not wanting to give any more information than I needed to, not right now at least.
“That’s amazing, we’re proud of you” Matt places a hand on mine for comfort, everyone nods agreeing.
“Wanna help me with the snacks?” Matt breaks the silence, I nod and he leads me to the kitchen, it hasn’t changed a bit since I got here, there’s just more stuff, it’s more lived in, I like it.
I open the fridge and see a row of beers at the bottom, probably for when friends come over, my body goes tense and the sounds around me become muffled, I snap out of it when Matt pats on my shoulder.
“Hey, you alright?” He ask’s concerned, I know he’s trying to keep a calm expression but I can tell he’s worried.
“Yeah I’m fine just- got caught up for a second” I utter out with a sigh, I don’t notice my hand trembling till he grabs it.
“Theres orange juice here, I know it’s your favorite” he says softly, rubbing the palm of my hand, making sure I looked at him in the eyes so I wouldn’t get distracted with something else.
“Yeah? Thanks, I’ll get it then” I smile at him, he kissed the tips of my fingers gently
“Anything you need ok? Count on me, please” he begged, looking at me with sincerity, no games.
I nodded and the corners of my mouth turned upwards as it hit me that I was with him again, after such a long time, for me at least. I then grabbed the orange juice from the fridge and poured myself a cup, Matt glancing at me with a smile on his face as I did so.
Our hearts have changed, our faces have changed, but we’ll always find our way back to each other, no matter the changes we succumb to, and I’ll always hold that in my heart.
taglist: @iha8you @dwntwn-strnlo @slaysturniolo @stvrni0lo @strniolo @gabbylovesreading @sturn3g1rl @ifilwtmfc
#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo fanfiction#matt sturniolo image#matt sturniolo fluff
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Hypnosis Microphone, Awake - Jyuto Iruma English Lyrics Translation
This ain’t nothing like before Drowning them out with our authority (Hey, hey, hey) We’ll take it all away, leaving no trace (Hey, hey, hey) We’re not gonna go easy, no time for regret (Hey, hey, hey) If they can’t step up to the plate, just leave it to us (Hey, hey, hey)
This ain’t nothing like before Drowning them out with our authority (Hey, hey, hey) We’ll take it all away, leaving no trace (Hey, hey, hey) We’re not gonna go easy, no time for regret (Hey, hey, hey) If they can’t step up to the plate, just leave it to us (Hey, hey, hey)
I will never give up my way When someone laughs, who will cry? What is wrong? What is right? You should decide for yourself, not anyone else Cross me and you’ll be detained Doesn’t matter who they are, ya hear? Either throw ‘em in a cell or waste ‘em with lead Be ready for this I wasn’t here for friends, I figured it was just a give-and-take Now we all aim for success Third time’s the charm This rising star and quality Will soon awaken Before, common sense was just absurdity A foe with a smoke who kicks you to the curb They’re too soft, so retreat; carelessness is our biggest enemy Their style’s too delicate-- you’ve gotta be fearless to win You see, we’re untouchable
Hey now, this ain’t nothing like before Drowning them out with our authority (Hey, hey, hey) We’ll take it all away, leaving no trace (Hey, hey, hey) We’re not gonna go easy, no time for regret (Hey, hey, hey) If they can’t step up to the plate, just leave it to us (Hey, hey, hey)
This ain’t nothing like before Drowning them out with our authority (Hey, hey, hey) We’ll take it all away, leaving no trace (Hey, hey, hey) We’re not gonna go easy, no time for regret (Hey, hey, hey) If they can’t step up to the plate, just leave it to us (Hey, hey, hey)
The heat is rising with those shallow authorities, well done Roast ‘em till they’re well done Today’s those careless fools’ death day This verse will be a piece of cake The stability of a new world I have it in my hands Don’t care who it is, there ain’t no special treatment I told you I’d be thorough I won’t let no one sell hard drugs And that’s non-negotiable But things have changed since then There’s an even bigger plan in motion I’ve been using my strength to keep them in line, but I realized that Violence, authority, and force isn’t the answer I’m staring down a new enemy and the future of this city At that level, the stars are countless So tuck tail and run like an obedient dog We’re winning this, ain’t nothing else for you now Go ahead and count down
This ain’t nothing like before Drowning them out with our authority (Hey, hey, hey) We’ll take it all away, leaving no trace (Hey, hey, hey) We’re not gonna go easy, no time for regret (Hey, hey, hey) If they can’t step up to the plate, just leave it to us (Hey, hey, hey)
This ain’t nothing like before Drowning them out with our authority (Hey, hey, hey) We’ll take it all away, leaving no trace (Hey, hey, hey) We’re not gonna go easy, no time for regret (Hey, hey, hey) If they can’t step up to the plate, just leave it to us (Hey, hey, hey)
Awake - Jyuto Iruma English Lyrics Translation @MatchaGyudon (google.com)
#english translation#matchagyudon#translation#hypnosis microphone#jyuto iruma#hypmic#mad trigger crew
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Congrats on the followers milestone!! Here's an idea:
16h30
Reading Room
Lardo
for you, a little expansion of Shitty's Dibs. Thank you and enjoy!
catch up on the rest of Ficlet Fest 3 here
🏒🏒🏒🏒
reading room, 4:30pm
Lardo flings open the door and makes a beeline for Shitty’s bed so she can crawl out onto the Reading Room. She doesn’t even make it all the way onto the roof before she’s continuing her rant from their text chain.
“And like, I’m sort of shocked they waited till now to ask me, like, it’s almost finals? Did they think I just didn’t have my shit figured out already?” she asks, dumping her bag to one side and settling into her customary spot.
“Well—”
“Leaving aside the fact that I don’t have a living situation figured out yet, it just feels like a desperate move. Doesn’t bode well, you feel me?”
“For sure. Bear?” he asks, holding out the biggest bag of gummy bears she’s seen in a while toward her.
She raises a single eyebrow. “Did you accidentally buy a bag with the pink ones again?”
“...Maybe.”
“Bear me.” He passes over the bag and they take a moment to just watch the street, soaking up the breeze rustling through the leaves and the sounds of Beyoncé from the kitchen below them. The first taste of grapefruit makes her wrinkle her nose – she’s not the biggest fan of the flavor – but she’s not about to let Shitty absently snack on something that he’s mildly allergic to, so she keeps eating.
“So did you give them an answer already?” Shitty asks eventually, a weird expression on his face. Lardo squints at him, but lets it go in favor of answering.
“I told them I had to think about it,” she says, picking out the last few pink bears. “It’d be like, fine, but – ‘kay, I ate all the gross pink ones for you—”
“Brah,” he says, fake tearing up in gratitude. She punches him in the side of the arm and Shitty falls to the side with a dramatic groan. Lardo just rolls her eyes and continues her thought.
“—But, it's on the other side of campus. Plus, Claire's gonna sexile Lara weekly, and I don't wanna Judge Judy all senior year.” She leans back on her hands, more glad than ever she doesn’t have to use her brain any more today. “Man. Why the printmaking kids gotta be so damn horn a bajillion percent of the time?”
There’s a beat of silence where Shitty would normally make fun of her (admittedly strange) art friends, and then—
“So, Lards, ‘bout housing…I’m thinking you should have my dibs.” Lardo freezes at the words. Surely she didn’t hear correctly. He can’t have offered her his room in The Haus. He can’t have.
“I mean it makes a whole lotta sense, right? I mean, first, you practically fuckin’ love here anyway,” he says, ticking the items off on his fingers. “Second, it should be your right as manager. And third—” he meets her gaze squarely, more sincere and earnest about this than he ever was for hockey or any of his classes. This is important to him, maybe the most important. Suddenly, she’s fighting down a lump in her throat.
“You’re one of the best teammates I’ve ever had. So like. You know what to do to seal the deal…if you want ‘em, that is.”
Apparently he can have been offering his room – offering her a chance to live with some of her favorite people in the whole damn world – as though it was a given, a right, a done deal. He holds out his hand for the customary Dibs Shake, but to her horror, Lardo sniffs, and there’s a tear dripping down her cheek that she has to hide in her elbow.
“Shitty…”
The wobble in her voice sets him off, and now they’re both halfway to ugly crying on the roof of the Haus like dumbasses. “Oh no-no-no, dude,” he says, furiously blinking to ward off tears. “If you waterworks, I’ll w-waterworks…”
She launches herself at him with a strangled AGGGHH!! – throwing her arms around him and squeezing as tightly as she can, hoping that her message gets across without actual words.
Shitty squeezes her back, and his words sound a little relieved (did he think she’d say no???) and a lot wet when he manages to speak. “Hugs count too.”
Fuck right they do.
When they finally break apart, Shitty’s beaming at her and she can feel her own smile widening in response.
“I guess I better tell Claire and Lara I’m already set for next year then,” she teases, striving for her normal dry tone.
“Brah, you’re gonna eat a million pies next year.”
“‘Swawesome.”
#starthecozy#cricket writes#omgcp#check please#ficlet fest 3#lardo pov#most of the dialogue lifted from ngozi's post#shitty's dibs#the haus
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USELESS INFO I FEEL LIKE PUBLISHING!! and also just archiving on my blog 4 my own sake :D
here is the stories/reasons 4 all my alters’ names cuz they’re all weirdly significant in some way or another OR went thru a very long process 2 become the name it is today
putting it under cut cuz it’ll probably be longish
reffy & ramen - they both went thru different processes, but come from the same origin. VERY LONG STORY I AM NOT SHORTENING IT!!
we were finding a new collective name cuz our old one did NOT suit us at all!! and at the time, our understanding of our system was very different. we had a lot of trouble separating reffy/ramen cuz not having one host scared us, so ramen was a sort of “sub-alter” to reffy for a good while until we were comfy with the distinction.
we settled on the name remiel/ramiel, but couldn’t decide the spelling. we ended up using remiel collectively, but that name was also specific to reffy because again at the time afraid of deviating from host. so ramen ended up with the scrapped spelling!!
reffy - when we realized we in fact were not just one host, having reffy’s name as our collective name was rly confusing!! we ended up shortening it to “remy” for a rly long time. then, we ended up fusing the names “remy” and “maffy/maffal” (maffy is a sub-alter to reffy that we had treated as distinct for a while b4 realizing it wasn’t healthy for not fun reasons!!) so it became reffy!! and yes, reffy is short for reffal!! no one calls him that tho cuz it’s weird (other than dire cuz he’s strange but he only does that in private) (and sometimes jax scolds him using his full name cuz it’s funny)
fun fact: reffy decided 2 use the name reffy instead of remy in the vegetable section of a grocery store. very useful information ik (sarcasm)
ramen - this name didn’t end up getting changed till like a little over a year ago now!! they stuck with “ramiel” for a good while, purely because we have a dog tag with the name ramiel engraved on it and they didn’t want to change their name cuz then the dog tag would be WRONG!! but eventually they were like NO im CHANGING IT. the nickname “ram” rly stuck (since no one called them ramiel anyway cuz it was confusing with it being so close to the collective name) so took the ram and turned it into ramen like the instant noodles cuz enby behaviour (lh)
they actually considered the name “azriel” for a bit n couldn’t decide between that n ramen. ramen is much more fitting i could not IMAGINE IT BEING ANYTHING ELSE
(i’m writing this and im writing in third person to avoid confusion and it FEELS WEIRD!!!)
jax - ok i’m leaving out the context of my 2020 system yrs cuz it’s not rly relevant and complicated BUT!! this name came from back then. it came out of NOWHERE LIKE LITERALLY IT JUST POPPED INTO OUR HEAD LIKE “yea this guy… he’s jax” and i don’t know WHERE IT CAME FROM cuz we probably only ever heard that name less than 10 times our whole life. it’s RLY WEIRD but it kind of makes it feel oddly special cuz it just happened without us consciously thinking. like that’s just how the name was Meant 2 BE
his name has not changed a SMIDGE since then. he did end up deciding it’s short form 4 something else somewhere along the line, but only one non insys person& knows what it is cuz he’s weird abt it. it’s been years n he’s still keeping it a secret .. and no it’s not jackson !!! that’s ur one hint :3c
nuni - this one is kinda silly!! when we were like 8-12 our online alias name was our cat’s name and since nuni was the primary host at that time the name rly stuck with her. when she came out of dormancy a few yrs ago, we wanted to change it since it could get confusing differentiating our CAT from our HEADMATE so we went with a random nickname we called our cat!! idk where it came from exactly tbh,, but our parents still call our cat that sometimes like once in a blue moon and each time they do it feels SO WEIRD!!
dire - ima be real i know there was a reason behind this name but i can’t remember it 4 the life of me. none of us can it’s rly weird. just pretend this is an awesome cool backstory ok thx
BUT!!! there’s a neat story behind one of his many old names!!! he first developed/split as an oc introject, we called him “corgo” cuz he more closely resembled the comfort au version of said oc (which in hindsight was not a comfort au it was just the personification of the introject) and combined the word “comfort” with “margo” (the oc’s name)
driell - him n his sibling (who isn’t in our sys) both have names that r their parents’ names combined together n letters smushed around a lil bit!! his sisters name (alexis) is a combination of the specific alter names, and driell’s is a combination of collective names!!!
THIS WAS ACTUWLLY A LOT LONGER THAN I ANTICIPATED i expected it 2 be long but i underestimate how much i love infodumping about my system WAYGYH. if u read this all the way thru it means the world 2 me u have no idea
i wanr to infodump abt system stuff more cuz it makes me happy :33 just worry abt clogging up my blog a bit :P
that’s it that’s all!!! good day 2 u
- 🖤
(🥀🎀🧸 co-con)
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When’s the last time anyone heard anything about EDDIE MUNSON? Old friends remember them as WITTY & ENGAGING but also OVERLY EMOTIVE & EASILY AGITATED, no wonder they’re still known as THE FREAK around town. Today, in 2006, they are 38 and some people say they remind them of the smell of cheap weed and even cheaper cologne; downsizing your passions to fit into an adapted version of your dreams; bite marks on pencils and an abundance of notebooks filled with lyrics that you didn’t have it within yourself to finish; a hopeless inability to adapt.
THE ROAD TILL NOW.
tw: death mention / injuries / hospital
I: GROUND ZERO / THE IMMEDIATE AFTERMATH.
Spring break 1986 concluded with a bang. quite literally. Or at least, to Eddie Munson personally, something akin to, well, the biggest bang ever imaginable. A cataclysmic event - his own death. How he had managed to narrowly avoid that fate, Eddie still doesn’t know. What he does know is that somehow, by the grace of whatever gods might loom and linger out there, he’d been granted another shot at breathing.
As fun as breathing and not-being-dead was, it quickly turned out that Hawkins, Indiana wasn’t the best place for the recently traumatized to recover. Someone - Steve, he suspected - must’ve dragged him out of the literal hell beneath Hawkins, because when he came to he’d found himself blinded by fluorescent overhead lighting, hooked up to all sorts of machines and, not to forget, chained to the fucking hospital bed.
Despite the less than ideal circumstances of his recovery, Eddie found some solace in the fact that Hopper, although trying to manage and cope with his own losses, did his best to shield him from the press. The reporters outside the hospital were eventually persuaded to leave, thanks to Hopper’s efforts (well-timed threats). Some shady government officials also paid a visit, and after the public’s demand for answers had dwindled, they’d released a statement, clearing Eddie’s name. Apparently, they’d felt guilty enough to throw in a new trailer for him and Wayne, too, so they could have at least some sort of safe haven to retreat to.
Still weak, but with sufficiently healed wounds, Eddie Munson was discharged and suddenly a free man. But make no mistake - free on paper only. Because when he left the hospital, he was suddenly brutally confronted with the fact that, to the average Hawkins resident, he was still 1) the local drug dealing town freak, 2) the leader of a satan worshipping cult and 3) a fucking murderer. In that order. And so the dirty looks continued to burn into his back, the muttered insults followed him in passing, and nothing, I repeat, nothing had changed. Maybe it was all the pent up rage, maybe something just .. .snapped but either way, Eddie powered through and managed to finally graduate on his third try of senior year. He did as promised: walked the stage, flipped off principal Higgins. Only the running like hell part, that would have to wait until everything had properly healed.
The months went by in a blur. When El and Will’s double funeral rolled around, when his gaze followed as the caskets were lowered to the ground, it was .. for lack of better words a pivotal moment . There was nothing left for him here, was there? His uncle would manage fine on his own, especially since he’d been going on regular coffee dates with that sweet librarian. Eddie was more of a nuisance to him, he was sure. And whatever that weird tension between him and Steve had been, left unresolved post-Vecna and awkwardly fizzling out ever since, it’s just … not enough to keep him in Hawkins. So it’s really an easy decision. A week later Eddie’s van, packed with all the Corroded Coffin equipment, leaves Hawkins, without leaving a note, without saying goodbye, and takes the highway to Chicago.
II: CHICAGO, ROBIN AND THE STONY ROAD TO STARDOM.
Eddie Munson was fully aware that he wasn’t going to become a success story overnight, but he was determined to make it happen. Still haunted by his past traumas, he channeled his energy into his writing, playing guitar, and even experimenting with singing. Taking up odd jobs here and there, dabbling in some dealing if need be, to pay rent and put food on the table. The paying rent part got much easer, however, when a familiar face joined him in Chicago: One Robin Buckley.
Robin brought a sort of light and warmth, a breezy carelessnes, a lust for life previously unimaginable, back into his life. His twenties with Robin in Chicago were the best, it seemed the early nineties were made for them. Going out to bars and clubs where Eddie didn’t need to put a bandana in his back pocket for people to know he was interested in men, playing the odd gig here and there, with moderate success in the local scene. Countless hours spent listening to music as they smoked and chatted away into the night. Life was fucking good, man!
Until, for whatever reason, one foggy morning, reality harshly set in. Maybe his frontal lobe had finally finished developing, but Eddie had untangled himself from the arms of last night’s conquest to get up and reevaluate every choice he’d made in his life so far. How he was working two jobs, as a mechanic and at some gay club’s coatcheck, while claiming he was doing music ‘full time’ and that ‘they were gonna make it big, the world just needed to be ready for them!’ The year was 1996. Eddie was pushing thirty. Corroded Coffin was still playing venues akin to the Hideout. If anything, the world had been ready for metal, like, eight years ago. If anything, the world was getting tired of their sound, and everything was moving into the direction of grunge-y tones. And, if anything, Eddie Munson was getting fucking tired of getting his hard work discarded because ’metal’s just not the vibe anymore, man’. Eddie had promised himself to stay true to his dreams, his passions, the plans he’d made for himself. But so many promises made to him had been carelessly broken. It seemed only fitting that he would break his own, too. So, Eddie got up and proposed a new sound. Most of Corroded Coffin dipped immediately, as to be expected, and so he got to work finding a new band. With him as lead guitar and, for the first time, supporting vocals, he joined a newly formed grunge/alternative rock band called ’Bleach & Burn’, performing music inspired by Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Type O Negative and the like. Not his usual scene, but he could get down to their harder sounds.
Bleach & Burn, to his surprise, generated moderate success and a cult-like following. Suddenly, Eddie found he was able to quit his coatcheck job, able to support himself with just the mechanics and his music. But it was only a matter of time before the world would evolve, move on, repeat the trend cycle and suddenly, just as they were about to sign their first recording contract, the label pulled out last minute with a word of advice: “People are sick of hard rock. Do something a little more … for the everyday crowd. Something for the radio. Trust me, people are gonna go wild if you go a little more tame.”
This marked a turning point, the make or break - Eddie Munson was a lot of things but he’d been determined not to be a sell-out, not to sacrifice his integrity for feeble attempts at fame and success. But now? Seeing his dream slip by his grasp, when he’d been so close? What the fuck was he supposed to do? And so, after much tossing and turning, Eddie Munson, lead guitarist and supporting vocalist of Bleach & Burn, became lead guitarist and lead vocalist of Cornerstone. And so, in the year 2000, at the ripe age of 32, Eddie Munson became Chicago’s biggest sell-out. But, fucking hell, did it pay off!
III. EDDIE MUNSON’s CLAIM TO FAME.
Who knew sacrificing your sound and your dreams could be so lucrative! Their debut album, after reworking their harder sound into a more radio appropriate, alt-indie-rock beat and getting a second lead-vocalist in the talented Alice Phair, hit the shelves not four months after, somehow becoming an instant success. Chicago’s previously best kept secret spread through the nation like wildfire. Cornerstone played their first national tour in 2001, cruising through the country for a solid five months. And suddenly, Eddie was on stage every night in tight jeans and leather jackets while people screamed his lyrics back at him, feeling like a fucking rockstar. Scratch that, feeling a like a fucking god.
Suddenly, he had everything he thought he’d ever wanted and craved. The recognition he’d been waiting his entire life for. Life felt good, once again. - Or was it, really? He’d never aspired for international success, even surprised when his label had told him some little independent radio station in Finland had played their most recent single. But people, no matter how few, were hearing their music, all over the world. People, no matter how few, all over the world were listening to and enjoying the sound of Eddie’s sacrificed musical integrity.
Again, suddenly, a flip seemed to switch, and Eddie pushed two sleeping groupies off him as he waddled to the front of the tour bus to watch the sunrise. He was living his fucking dream. People adored him. Eddie ’the freak’ Munson had turned into Eddie ’can you sign my tits?’ Munson, posters of his face adorning the walls of America’s alternative youth. But if he had everything he’d ever wanted then why was he so fucking miserable? Why did he cringe whenever he heard a song of theirs on the radio, even going as far as skipping the channel, unable to stand hearing it? He loved, lived and breathed music, but whatever sound they had taken on, he hated it. Hated having to pretend something he was not - he did that oftentimes enough when he’d pose with Alice for a staged PDA picture that could be printed in the tabloids. It wasn’t like he was hiding his sexuality by any means - his label had simply … ’kindly advised’ him to maintain an air of mystery around that subject of his personal life.
Truth was, Eddie yearned to go back to his roots, that early 80s melodic metal sound, that had made him happier than every song on his last, what, three albums? He’d even gone to work writing some songs that fit that genre - but they’d never see the light of day. Only posthumously, if anything. Because he knew the second he’d pitch that idea to his bandmates, or god forbid the label, Cornerstone was good as done. How were they ever going to play another authentic show with the knowledge that their band’s lead fucking hated every minute of it? It was ridiculous. And anyway, Eddie shouldn’t complain about what had been handed to him. He’d never even thought he’d make it this far. So really, he was in no place to complain. He should be fucking grateful.
He tries his best to be. Grateful. Goes on tour after tour, even if he’d rather stay home and never leave his room again, even if he’s fucking exhausted. Dutifully just nods and smiles whenever the label suggests another single, another show, another interview - it’s not even like they’re properly ‘famous’ Eddie thinks, but he doesn’t say anything, never does. Even when some so called ‘music journalist’ has recently in a review called them ‘a delightful mix of Nirvana, The Fratellis, Franz Ferdinand and recently emerged newcomers The Arcitc Monkeys’. He’s been told that it’s a smashing review. Eddie feels a lot like smashing that journalist’s face in.
Eddie’s just finished up a tour, and the past few months have catapulted him to the very brink of .. .something. A cord, maybe, that’s coiled all the way up, ready to snap at the next minor inconvenience. The idea of leaving the band is ever present at the back of his head. Leave Cornerstone to Alice, knowing she’d do an amazing job. Better than him, even, he’s sure. They’re not schedulded to play another show for a couple months, and so when Robin stumbles into his arms, showing him the envelope, it’s really a no-brainer. They’re going. Back to Hawkins.
Eddie hasn’t been back since ‘86. Wayne had always insisted to come to Chicago or visit him in Indianapolis whenever he’d play a show there. Eddie hasn’t been back since ‘86 and he hasn’t seen anyone from … back then since ‘86. Hasn’t been keeping in contact much, either. Still, Joyce Byers had been one of the sweetest souls to ever walk this earth, had shown him nothing but kindness the brief times he’d run into her. And some time in Hawkins, away from the bustling city life, away from the music and the shows and the whole fucking business - who knew, maybe a change of scenery would do him good. Eddie’s willing to try about anything to get a brief respite from the life he’s built for himself.
EDDIE’S PINTEREST: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/edsmunson/eddie-munson-2electric-boogaloo
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breakdown under the cut! most of these songs are very self explanatory but the ones that aren’t i go into detail for.
mostly in order of the events of pre canon, the movie, and post canon, but also in an order to make it flow well in a cohesive playlist LOL. anyways here we go
first track: glass ceiling by metric. randy has little to no agency. he goes where he’s led and does what he’s told! i had always envisioned this mix as having glass ceiling as the opening track so that’s essential to The Vision.
“only know what i’m told, only know what i’m told” “how did i end up on the ground? / only do what i’m told, only do what i’m told / last to leave, cold calling” “inch to inches crawling / we can’t leave, it’s the last road open / every speed on our knees is crawling”
second track: adolescence by the murlocs
“my only nemesis is incompetence / scared of my own independence / always left wondering when will i grow out of my adolescence? / killing sprees are best left unsaid” “on my knees i am begging to confess / always left wondering when, when, when will i grow out of my adolescence?”
third track: all i think about now by pixies. very pre canon randy with all his nightmares about the whole miss beard thing. you get it.
“i try to think about tomorrow / but i always think about the past / about the things that didn’t last / if i could go to the beginning then for sure i would be another way / make it better for today”
fourth track: the prescience of dawn by the weakerthans
“the sirens woke me up again i know they’re coming for me someday, just a matter of when / count to 25 and yawn / touch the clock and turn my back against the dawn / and hope for that one dream” “mother, mother, may i cry?” “i don’t want a second chance / to turn my stuttering reluctance into romance” “kindergarten anthems with my drunken liturgies / tune the FM into static and pretend that it’s the sea / but four words fumble for the microphone / you should have known, you should have known”
fifth track: scrawny by wallows
“still wear the same shoes i did back then / i don’t think they've ever been untied / i can’t regret the things i don’t try /i’d switch it up but I don't like change / only content if things stay the same / don’t care to watch the story unfold” “i’ve been sleeping with the light on / i tend to freak myself out” “question, though, how do i look to you? / am i so thin that you can see through?”
sixth track: my iron lung by radiohead. an iron lung keeps someone alive but doesn’t allow them freedom of movement.
“you do it everyday / you don’t mean it / but it hurts like hell / my brain says i’m receiving pain / a lack of oxygen” “we’re too young to fall asleep” “we are losing it /can’t you tell? / the scratch / our eternal itch, a twentieth century bitch / and we are grateful for / our iron lung” “and if you’re frightened / you can be frightened, you can be, it’s okay”
seventh track: i wanna sweat by car seat headrest. randy is the nervous young man will was singing about this whole album.
“i just found out, hey, i’m a man / i’ve got feelings and sweaty hands / you can’t help what you look like / you can only look like it i couldn't say, i’m feeling nervous / but if you ask, then i’m at your service / just tell me what i’m asking for, i’d like to know you better / the fears and social pressure that’s affecting my affections” “i want to know what your weaknesses are / come on and tell me what your weaknesses are / there’s something different about you, you’re not me / but you remember the things that i say”
eighth track: mother by pink floyd. randy has mommy issues. (with a touch of ransonism!)
“mama’s gonna put all of her fears into you / mama’s gonna keep you right here, under her wing / she won’t let you fly but she might let you sing / mama will keep baby cosy and warm” “mother, do think she’s dangerous to me? / mother, will she tear your little boy apart?” “mama won’t let anyone dirty get through / mama’s gonna wait up till you come in / mama will always find out where you’ve been / mama’s gonna keep baby healthy and clean” “you’ll always be a baby to me”
ninth track: fear by current joys.
“i never felt it when i was young / i never knew where it came from / now i feel it like a hurricane / and it’s so hard to stop the rain” “and now i feel it in my veins / but i don’t want to be afraid / i don’t want to live this way, i don’t want you to leave”
tenth track: never let me down again by depeche mode. the first of a handful of songs here that focus on ranson!
“i’m taking a ride with my best friend / i hope he never lets me down again / he knows where he’s taking me” “promises me i’m as safe as houses long as i remember who’s wearing the trousers / i hope he never lets me down again”
eleventh track: how soon is now? by the smiths
i am the son and the heir / of a shyness that is criminally vulgar” “you shut your mouth / how can you say i go about things the wrong way? / i am human and i need to be loved just like everybody else does” “so you go and you stand on your own / and you leave on your own / and you go home and you cry / and you want to die / when you say it’s gonna happen now / when exactly do you mean / see i’ve already waited too long / and all my hope is gone”
twelfth track: dancing in the dark by bruce springsteen
“i ain’t nothin but tired / man i’m just tired and bored with myself / hey there, baby, i could use just a little help” “i check my look in the mirror / wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face / man, i ain’t gettin nowhere / i’m just living in a dump like this / there’s something happening somewhere / baby, i just know that there is”
thirteenth track: pleasure and pain by divinyls. DON’T LOOK AT ME HES A MASOCHIST OKAYYYY
“no, please don't ask me how i’ve been getting off / break my body with the back of your hand / doesn’t make sense from where i stand / baby, baby, oh, why you wanna mess it up? / sooner or later i’ll find my place” “it’s a fine line between pleasure and pain / you’ve done it once, you could do it again / whatever you done, don’t try to explain / it’s a fine, fine line between pleasure and pain”
fourteenth track: stay soft by mitski i know you freaks were waiting for this one. i love repressed rage randy!
“fury, pure and silver, you grip it tight inside like a knife / it glints in your eye / it’s why i’ve arrived, your sex god / here to take you where you need to go” “you stay soft, get beaten / only natural to harden up / you stay soft, get eaten / only natural to harden up” “just tell me what you want to do / tell me what you want to burn away / cause could be your stoker”
fifteenth track: capable by the wild reeds. this is THEE randy song, okay?? like. THE RANDY SONG.
“he says you’re awful young for 21, you’ve got some work to do / bite your pencil harder than you were planning to” “growing up was not an easy movement for me / you nudge and nudge you push and shove / and i might still stay asleep / and it’s a struggle to think on my feet / i fear the harsh regard / but friend, if you’d encourage me i know i’d make it far / you said i’m capable of so much more than these people give me credit for / and i just need to show it / and my anger surrounds me like a coat when i shiver / i let it surround me with these thoughts often so bitter”
sixteenth track: trees ii by mccafferty. finally on our post canon stuff.
“the word tragic means a lot to me / i got bullied a lot as a teen / i know to cut and i know how to bleed / you’ll never know how much it means to me / my mommy said that god sees everything / he knows i’m good and i just want to be / friends with these kids who are so mean to me / why can’t you all be nice to me? / cute guy, nice face, wrong time, wrong place / i knew in a matter of a minute / his face was smashed, his skin was burnt, his shirt was torn in the dirt” “full of lies / like you and me were always safe / i ran, i ran the fuck away / like i could be grown up some day / goddammit, goddammit, i’m sorry” “i’m always stuck alone with my repressed thoughts”
final track: goodnight daydream by arvid. like glass ceiling i always wanted this to be the closing song! both the sound and the lyrics and the finality of it all is just perfect. randy being so haunted by benson he feels like he’s still there sometimes…. yeah
“i turned on a lamp in a room where your hand had felt like velvet / i was smoking outside and looking off at your eyes and how they wandered / cause it’s dark without light so the sight of the night you must've pondered” “i’ll make my life complete / work out a masterpiece / show you just what i mean” “this perception of mine will be a memory in time once that i’m older”
thanks for reading! if you have any questions let me know :D!!
quite literally
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Dar'Aliit: Chapter 6 - Something Personal (pt 2)
Mer’en paces the room. Bevik, utterly defeated, sits in the corner sulking. We’re all crammed into the controls room where a constant loop of the separatists conversations have been pouring in. It’s mostly reports on the ship. We’ve only got five hours left till rendezvous.
“Good news,” Mer’en turns and paces back past Aftermath. I think about moving my legs off the console, but I’m too tired, especially after nine games of Dejark. Neither me nor Bevik are great losers. But I’m still the ultimate winner.
“We got a ride?” Shave asks.
“We have a ride,” Mer’en confirms. “Bad news. Getting a ride means they’re going to push the rendezvous out another day because they had to commission a ship that could handle the atmosphere. So we’re stuck here another day. Better pack in and get comfortable.”
“Is there anything to eat down here?” Aftermath asks.
“Rations,” I tell him.
“You know, sir, I think the rookie is picking up on my snark and I don’t appreciate it,” Aftermath adds.
I smile at him and get a scowl in response.
“I don’t care about your snark,” Mer’en says. “Now all of you, I want a watch at all hours. Who’s going first?”
Bevik raises his hand.
“No,” Mer’en says. “Kian, Bevik, you both need sleep. You took pretty decent hits today, you can take later watches.”
“I’ll go,” Shave offers.
Mer’en shakes his head and locks his eyes on Aftermath who groans.
“I guess I’m volunteering?”
“Thank you for your service,” Mer’en chuckles. “Shave you can have second. Bevik, third. I’ll take fourth. The usual two hours shifts, understood?”
“Sir?” I lift my hand. “I can take a watch.
“You’re fine, rookie. Get some sleep.”
“If this is about my face, sir,” I sit up.
“It’s not,” Shave butts in. “Kian,” he looks over at me. “We all know you haven’t slept well since you got here. This is your chance, get some rest. Bunks in the crew quarters are clean. Maybe a little stale, but clean.”
I avert my gaze. So, they have noticed the fact I’m up half the night. I can’t help that all I can dream about are faces that look exactly like mine showing up on corpses. I swallow and pull my feet off the control panel. “Yes,” I look at Mer’en. “Sir.”
“Good, now go on. Aftermath, don’t touch a button in here, got it?”
“You put me on first watch,” Aftermath lifts his hands and they’re all I can see from behind the chair he’s sitting in. “Whatever happens, happens,” he says.
“The nothing had better happen,” Mer’en threatens.
Bevik snickers and gets up. I pull myself out of the chair and wander toward the door where Shave is standing. Mer’en follows as does Bevik and we slip out into the hall. Shave takes Bevik ahead of us and Mer’en falls back so he’s in step with me.
“You noticed, sir?” I ask as we walk toward the crews quarters.
“Kian you leave the room at 3am standard time. The light wakes me up.”
“Oh,” I feel my stomach grip in regret.
Mer’en just laughs though. “Don’t worry, we’ve all done it. You go down to the training rooms, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“If you need to spar someone you can wake me up next time.”
I glance at him. “You’ve done this longer than me, how do you put up with it?”
Mer’en shrugs. “Everyone has a way. I focus on making sure you all come back alive, but I can’t really blame myself if we don’t can I? If I do everything in my power, I’ve done my job.”
“Aftermath told me to take it out on stuff.”
“That works too. Just don’t let it…overwhelm you. Otherwise, you’ll lose yourself.”
I look down at my boots and stop. We painted my armor before leaving and there’s orange-yellow stripes across my thigh plates along with a mismatch of patterns Aftermath decided on while we were watching old Mon Calimari opera holos. The stripe down my left arm, the band on my right—except the pauldron, which is Nyo’s. There’s stripes down my chest. I think all of it had some meaning.
I don’t remember what half of it was, but I look like I’m a part of this team. These guys are my brothers. Ner’vod.
How am I not supposed to be overwhelmed with grief if I lose them? I clutch my helmet against my hip. “Does it ever get easier, sir?”
Mer’en blinks. His eyes are glassy, and he looks down the hall. “No. But I guess I’ve learned to become indifferent.”
I nod.
Mer’en rests his hand on my shoulder, right on Nyo’s shoulder pauldron. None of them asked me why it’s different. Aftermath is the only one who really knows. He wouldn’t even paint it.
Said that was up to me entirely.
I can feel Mer’en’s hand on my shoulder, heavy like the burden of all the other hands that have been there, reassuring me, placing their faith in me, every person that I’ve ever known. Every name on the underside of that shoulder pauldron.
They’re all my brothers and they always will be. Maybe Mer’en can become indifferent to the loss, to the death, and the grief, but I don’t think I can. I won’t forget them. My jaw clenches.
Mer’en draws back. “Get some sleep, Kian. Don’t think too much about the past.”
I nod, but my voice is only a whisper. “Yes, sir.”
#
Despite the extra hours, the Republic broke through the atmosphere with a ship that stayed in one piece this time. Shave took the duty of carrying Kit’s body. The rest of us fell in silently and we marched to the drop zone. A team of clones in battered armor escorted enviro-suited operators to take the station over.
As we pass by, I nod silently to the older troopers. Their battle-scarred armor shows not only experience, but survival. They nod to us. There’s a silent reverence. We respect each other. And we respect our collective fates.
“Everyone onboard!” Mer’en calls from the lowered ramp. We shuffle onboard. The pilots remain. We pass through airlocks to clear the acidic air off our suits before we’re allowed into the free open air of the ship.
Bevik whips off his helmet first and gulps down the fresh air. “I could kiss this floor right now!”
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Shave says. He veers off with a nod to Mer’en.
I hang back by Bevik. His relief washes over me too. We’re here. We’re alive, and for the first time, I’m not the only one going home.
I blink. What’s the next step? Another mission? On Kamino we filled out time with pointless banter, training, and sleep. There was the occasional recreation.
“Hey,” I walk up to Bevik. “Don’t you still owe me a drink?”
“Think ten-year-olds can drink?” Bevik flashes a smile.
I grin back. “If they’ll let you in, they’ll let anyone in.”
“Hey!” He slams his helmet against my shoulder. I laugh just moments before Aftermath breaks us up.
“Enough!”
“Feeling left out?” Bevik clobbers Aftermath over the head. The two are at each other’s throats and we’re all laughing as Aftermath spouts insults in Mando’a and Bevik takes it all with a smirk.
“Ahem,” Mer’en clears his throat. He leans, helmet off, against the wall. “I believe we’re going to be taking off soon if any of you would care to get settled. We have a cruiser to get back to.”
We’re all three at a loose attention in seconds. I raise my hand in salute. Neither of the other’s do and I see the quirk of a smile on Mer’en’s face at my formality. I lower my hand.
“Sir, think we’re going to make it back in time for the Bolo Ball matches? I gotta get some dye.” Bevik points at his shaved head.
“If you get your shebs in gear, maybe. Go!” Mer’en shoos us.
We scatter like womp rats up to the front of the ship. A crackle over the comms informs us of departure and I feel the ship shudder under my feet as we all scramble for seats in the common room.
I grab the straps and buckle in. I’m not taking chances in the atmosphere this time. My arm still moves stiff at the shoulder even though Shave says it’s mostly just skin laceration that will need time to heal. The bandages peek out from under my bodysuit.
With deep breaths the ship rocks and I feel a ghostly hand on my shoulder.
Afraid of flying?
I inhale deeply and focus my vision on Bevik and Aftermath who are across from me in two of the crew chairs.
“You watch Bolo Ball?” I ask weakly. Morgan and Hook sometimes went wild for that stuff. I saw Nyo try to dye his hair once. Didn’t work.
Bevik nods. “Sure do. Matches are on tonight. I heard the 501st Captain is a pretty big fan too.”
“Are you all going to…get together?”
“You wanna come?” Aftermath asks.
Do I? The ship shudders. “Sure,” I breathe. My breaths come deeper over time. I remember the exercises from Kamino. I focus on the little blip inside my—no Kit’s—HUD and see that we’re rising rapidly. The shaking isn’t nearly as bad this time. The lights don’t even flicker.
We break the surface. I feel it as all resistance is shed from the hull and with something of a last final groan, we’re free. I grip the webbing of my seat.
“Prepare for docking with cruiser,” the intercom drones.
The final thud. The airlocks mate and I’m not focused on my breathing anymore. It’s more like the lull carries a gravity I wasn’t prepared for. The whole ship is silent, but not with death. The universe is acknowledging it.
We’ve done it.
Bevik and Aftermath stand. I follow suit and we file back onto the cruiser. And we’re met by an officer with a skittish look in his wide Rodian eyes.
“Sir’s! A ship is waiting for you in hanger bay delta where you will be debriefed by the General, please proceed immediately there.”
“What?” Bevik’s face drops with my stomach. “Another mission?” he groans.
I look at Mer’en who steps forward. “Delta bay?”
“Yessir. Immediately.”
Mer’en shooed the nervous officer out of the way. “You heard him,” he says, and I can see him sigh. “Report to delta bay, immediately.”
Just like that, the weight hits my shoulders, and my stomach. We might’ve won, but we’re still at war.
We report to Delta bay. All through the cruiser officers hurry from place to place. Clones run from place to place, different platoons manning different stations. No one is sitting around, and no one is waiting.
When we reach Delta bay I can see why. Half the squadrons are assembled. A brown haired and bearded Jedi strides before them. We fall in beside Ronto squad, one of whom glances at us and just nods. The Jedi keeps pacing, hands locked behind his back, his tall figure powerful and stiff. I can’t discern whether his heavy brow is angry or merely thoughtful.
“Men,” he looks at us. “I have received word that General Nidor has become mired on Indol where we will arrive in two standard hours. The separatists have pinned down him and his forces in the city of Manuk. We must aid General Nidor and his men. I will deploy you all to the outskirts of the city near the Gin’das ridge. From there you will flank the enemy forces and take back the main road.”
I felt my chest constrict. A full-frontal assault.
“Half of you will land behind the city and make your way through the forest inside. The droids have not breached these forests as they cannot move their tanks there. We will fortify the main gates from there and aid General Nidor to make a two pronged attack. We will surround the droids. Am I understood?”
Weakly I join in. “Sir, yes sir.”
“You have your posts, move out!” With a sharp point, he directs us to the ships. Kenobi, I think someone once said the name of the General was. I see a worried glint in his eye as we break.
Unlike Krell, Kenobi reminds me of a father. I wonder if it’s real, or a façade he wears. I put the thought from my mind and about face, following the others as we head off to the armory. Two hours. Just enough time to suit up and get ready to deploy.
“So much for Bolo Ball,” Bevik mutters into his helmet.
“Next time!” Aftermath says.
I mute myself and let their idle chatter run through the background as we all file into the armory. All over again I feel myself wishing I could slam the butt of a blaster into the face of something else. We just got back.
“And now we’re going to get tossed out like canon fodder again!” I jerk a rifle off the wall and inspect it, careful not to let anyone see my heaving chest. My fingers tighten around it.
“Take it out on something,” I mutter. I’m holding a DC-15x, a snipers weapon. I inspect it and finally hand it off to a trooper I can see eyeing it. I don’t need long range, so I grab a fresh DC-15A, sturdy and reliable. The model is standard. It’s not fancy, and it doesn’t need to be. It’s the perfect make the slag a droid or smash its head in; Something up close; something personal.
#dar'aliit fanfic#star wars fanfiction#star wars fandom#star wars the clone wars#clone trooper oc#clone troopers#clone squad#part two#chapter six#angst#found family
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you’re my best friend ~ pete davidson
word count: 2002
request?: yes!
“pete friends to lovers”
description: in which two best friends get super sappy while drunk
pairing: pete davidson x female!reader
warnings: swearing, alcohol and weed usage
masterlist (one, two)
You were already two glasses of wine deep when Pete showed up, two cases of beer in his hands. He had a look of excitement on his face, which slowly fell when he realized there was no one else in your apartment.
“Everyone else cancelled,” you answered his unasked question.
“Everyone?” Pete asked.
You nodded. “Prior commitments or just not wanting to come or some shit.”
Pete came over and plopped himself down on the couch next to you. The case of beer was at his feet and he popped it open, taking out a bottle and immediately chugging it. You looked at him in amusement as he did so. Once he was finished, you asked, “Aren’t they warm?”
“Room temperature,” he corrected.
“Isn’t that gross?”
“A little, but obviously I have to catch up with you so we can be on even playing fields all night.”
You smiled and poured yourself another glass of wine as Pete opened another beer and started to drink again.
Between the heavy amounts of alcohol and the joint that Pete had brought, the two of you had gotten fucked up in no time. At some point you couldn’t even get up off the couch for more drinks, or for water that you both knew you should be drinking. The hangover you were going to have the next day was going to be killer, but in the moment neither one of you really cared.
You were both laid back on the couch, legs intertwined as you laughed at something Pete had said. It probably wasn’t even that funny, but in your inebriated state, everything was hilarious.
“You’re, like, my bestest friend, Pete,” you slurred. “No one else even bothered the show up, but you did!”
“I’m sure everyone else had like...stuff happening,” Pete said. “Adult things like...I don’t know...kids and taxes.”
You retched at the thought. “Yeah, no, I’m good with not having those adult things to do. Having kids, while extremely cute, is also extremely exhausting. But I don’t think anyone would’ve shown. No one else really...hangs out with me anymore.”
You laid your head back so you were looking at the ceiling. You could feel a lump growing in your throat and didn’t want Pete to see if you started crying. You knew this sudden emotion was most likely caused by the alcohol and the weed, but you also knew it was something genuine, a concern you had deep down that you had never voiced to anyone before.
You could hear Pete move to sit up and immediately turned your head away so he couldn’t see your face, even though you knew that looked more suspicious than anything.
“Everyone is busy, (Y/N),” he said, his voice soft. “I’m sure they’ll be able to hang out soon enough.”
“They’re not too busy to miss out on work get togethers, or going out with one another.” You sighed. “I know people grow apart and that’s just what happens when you grow up, I just didn’t think it was going to be all of my friends growing up and drifting apart all at the one time.”
“What am I, chopped liver?”
You giggled and sat up. The room spun around you as you did so and it felt like your stomach lurched. You had to take a moment to steady yourself before focusing your attention on Pete.
“I told you, you’re my bestest friend,” you said.
Pete’s smile slowly faded as he looked at you. “(Y/N), don’t cry please.”
You had forgotten about your emotional moment entirely. You wiped your cheek to find a wet streak running from your eye to your chin. You looked away from Pete again, suddenly feeling ashamed by your needless emotions. You were glad that the two of you were so drunk in that moment and would likely forget all of this the next day.
Pete’s hand lightly touched your chin, lifting it so that you were looking at him again. You looked into his eyes as he used his thumb to wipe the tears from your other cheek. Your breath caught in your throat as you realized how closely the two of you were sat together.
“I’ll always be here,” he assured you. “No matter how much we grow up or grow apart, I’ll always be one phone call away.”
You nodded, unable to get the words to unstick from your throat. You believed him, you knew he’d always be here.
The smell of beer and weed was strong as Pete leaned forward more, and normally you’d hate the smell combination. But you were too distracted by Pete’s eyes to notice, and a moment later you were too distracted by his lips on yours.
You had never viewed Pete as anything more than a friend before. You had grown up together. You were partners in crime since the first day you met in middle school. Your friends, and even your family, often made jokes that the two of you would end up together, but you both laughed it off. You were best friends, two peas in a pod, nothing more.
But now, with his lips moving against yours and his arms pulling you as close to him as you could get, you weren’t so sure. It could’ve been the drunken state the two of you were in, mixed with the emotions you were feeling just moments before. When the two of you sobered up the next day you may have not even remembered what happened, but in the moment you wanted all of him. You wanted his lips, his hands, his body, his heart, and you wanted to give him all of you in return.
His tongue brushed against your lips and you gladly let it in. It was wet and tasted like beer, so not the most romantic thing in the world, but it felt good in the moment. You felt like nothing could ruin what was happening, until your stomach lurched again.
You quickly pulled away from Pete and rushed to the bathroom. You didn’t even have time to kick the door closed behind you before you collapsed next to the toilet and threw up everything you had eaten and drank the past few hours. Pete followed closely behind you, pulling your hair back and gently rubbing your back. When you stopped throwing up for long enough, he got up to get you some water and made you drink it all before he did anything else.
“I didn’t think I was that bad of a kisser,” he joked. You glared at him over your shoulder before throwing up again.
Once you felt steady enough, Pete helped you to your feet. You brushed your teeth and took a mouthful of mouthwash in order to get rid of the taste of vomit. Pete helped you to your bedroom, where he had another glass of water and an Aspirin waiting for you.
“You’ll need that in the morning,” he said. “I’ll let you get changed.”
“You’ll stay with me though, right?” you asked. Suddenly you hated the thought of Pete having to leave.
He smiled. “Of course I will. I just want to give you some privacy while you change. You’re not supposed to see a girl naked till, like, the third date.”
You smiled back at him, a fuzzy feeling building inside of you at the thought of actually going on a date with Pete.
You changed into a pair of comfy pajamas and downed the glass of water Pete had left for you. You ventured out of your room to the kitchen to pour up another glass. You found Pete putting the bottles of beer in the recycling container and putting your glass in the sink.
“Why aren’t you as fucked up as I am right now?” you questioned.
“I could always handle my booze better than you,” he teased. You scowled and stuck your tongue out at him. He chuckled and put an arm around your shoulders. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”
After some convincing, Pete agreed to join you in bed. At first he laid a respectable distance away from you, but you moved close to him and placed your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, running his hands through your hair as your eyes became too heavy to stay open.
“You’ll regret this in the morning,” he murmured. “Or forget it completely.”
“Maybe,” you said, “but let’s wait for the morning to decide that.”
~~~~~~
When you woke up the next morning you groaned in pain. Your head felt heavy and like it had been stabbed by multiple little needles. You opened your eyes but had to shut them again immediately, hissing at the pain that small action caused.
Why the fuck did I drink so much last night? you questioned as you braced yourself and opened your eyes again.
You found yourself alone in bed, which didn’t seem too unusual until you remembered that you hadn’t been alone when you fell asleep. Pete had been there, more specifically he had been cuddling you.
You’ll regret this in the morning, you recalled him saying before you drifted off to sleep. You wondered if he had left before you had the chance to decide how you felt about the events of the night before.
You popped two Aspirin pills into your mouth and swallows them with a mouthful of water. You pulled yourself out of bed and slowly walked out of your room, the only speed you could manage in this state. You were halfway to your kitchen when you realized you were smelling something; bacon. You wondered where the smell was coming from, and didn’t have to look far to get the answer.
Pete was stood by your stove, two plates full of eggs and toast already sat next to him. When he heard you enter, he turned and greeted you with a smile.
“Good morning sleeping beauty!” he said. His loud voice pierced your ears and you quickly covered them and groaned. He chuckled. “You poor thing, you’re gonna hate today.”
“I already do,” you said. “Is that for me?”
He looked down at the plate of breakfast. “One of them is, yeah. Do you think you can keep it down?”
“I can try.”
The two of you sat at your dining room table and began to eat. Although your stomach still didn’t feel right, the food was definitely soaking up whatever alcohol was left in your system and thus was making the splitting headache you had subside just a little bit.
There was an awkward silence looming over the two of you. Despite what you thought the night before, you could still remember every detail; the emotional conversation, the kiss, the cuddling, how you felt when the latter two things were happening. You knew Pete remembered because he certainly wasn’t as fucked up as you were.
“Do you regret it?” you found yourself suddenly asking.
Pete looked up from his breakfast, fake confusion on his face. “What do you mean?”
You gave him a look. “Pete, I remember last night. I remember what we did, and what you said before I fell asleep.”
He sighed, turning his attention back to his food. “I don’t know...do you regret it?”
“I don’t,” you admitted. “If anything, I...I feel whatever the opposite of regret is. The only thing I regret is getting so drunk I threw up after we kissed.”
He smiled. “Yeah, that’s not exactly great timing.”
You looked at him, still waiting for his answer. Finally, he looked up at you again and said, “I don’t regret it either.”
“So what do we do now?” you asked.
Pete thought for a moment before saying, “I take you out on a date, one where we’re both completely sober, and we decide if we really want to do this. How does that sound?”
You smiled brightly at him. “I think that sounds like a great plan.”
#Pete Davidson#pete davidson imagine#pete davidson x reader#imagine#one shot#request#fanfiction#fanfic#fandom
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Solitary Love Chapter 2 (Yandere Giorno x Reader)
I told yall chapter 2 be coming. I was worried I wouldn't be able to see this series through till the end which is why I hesitated to even start it. But I'm having so much fun writing it 😊. I'm hoping I can start writing more for other Jojos too!
As always, you are more than free to provide feedback on my writing (how to improve, etc) also on mistranslations on Italian or Italian culture I may have gotten wrong. Or just any comments on this series in general!
Enjoy darlings! ❤️
You were excited for today. The class finally had a day off. The professor had an idea to visit Italy to visit some of his colleagues and share their work with your class. You decided to tag along because it’s Italy for God’s sake! Who would pass up on the chance to visit one of the world’s most beautiful countries? Sure, a part of you came because you love what you study but you’d be lying if you said visiting Italy wasn’t a huge factor in travelling halfway across the world from your home country.
When you landed, the professor barely gave your class any time to enjoy the scenery and try out the delicious Italian cuisine. Your professor was so stuck-up. “Work first, play later,” was his motto. It had already been 2 days since you landed with your class. The first day was spent recovering from jetlag. The second day was to prepare for the conference and the rest of the remaining time actually going to the conference to present.
Finally, on the third day in you would get the chance to actually have fun and explore. After completing the conferences last night, your class had the opportunity to enjoy the rest of your school trip to Italy. You were staying at a modest hotel that wasn’t too far from Brera, Milan.
Pulling out for outfit for today and slinging your purse around your shoulder, you headed out with your class, excited to finally enjoy Italy for what it is and take a break from the dreaded school.
***
“Okay everyone, make sure you’re all back here within 2 hours okay? That’s 2 pm! The bus isn’t going to wait for you if you’re late.”
God, even on vacation, your professor was such a tightass.
“Come on, y/n! Let’s go!” it was clear your friend was excited. She had been wanting this more than you did since you arrived in Italy.
She dragged you by the arm and rushed around this beautiful neighbourhood. You were taken aback by its slick design and effortless style. The trees and greenery were in full bloom, the air smelled fresh. It was hot since its summer, but there was a nice breeze swinging along that made the heat durable. Your thesis was finished and now your just having fun with your friends and class in one of the world’s most breathtaking countries.
‘Life couldn’t be better.’ you thought to yourself.
***
You stepped to the sidelines of the neighbourhood to rest a little. Your friend quite literally dragged you around and made you try or buy anything. You were having fun but you needed to catch your breath. You decided to take this time to yourself while your friend was in the bathroom.
“Ah, well it’s certainly nice to see you here, signora.” you hear a voice say.
Turning your head to the direction of where you heard the voice, you spot the same tall blonde man you’ve met before. Oh! It was that man from the conference hall that night!
“Salve di nuovo (hello again), signor…?”
“Giorno is fine.” he smiled
First name basis? That was quick. This was only the 2nd time you met. But whatever floats his boat you guess.
“Salve di nuovo (hello again), Giorno. What brings you here?”
“Just wanted to do some sightseeing. And yourself?”
“Me too! I’m here with my class to walk around Brera.”
“Having any fun?”
“Yes. A lot of fun.” you chuckled. “Just taking a break and waiting for my friend.”
“They left you?”
Left you? That’s a weird way of putting it. His tone sounded completely harmless but the words were unsettling. You brushed it off, thinking it might be how Italians are direct communicators.
“Uh, no they didn’t leave me. Haha… they’re in the washroom right now.” you pray he didn’t catch how nervous you felt with his statement. Though you were pretty sure it became obvious with your nervous laughter.
Giorno did seem to notice and changed the topic to something else. So you don’t like it when others talk poorly about your friends. Giorno made a mental note of that.
“I don’t think I got a chance to ask you, signora. But why are you studying psychology, if you don’t mind me asking.”
“You can call me y/n.” You were debating if you should tell him or not. But whatever, it wouldn’t kill you to answer truthfully. “I’m hoping to become a counsellor in the future. Once I graduate, I want to help others with their own struggles. But I think I’d like to focus more on trauma and abuse.”
Giorno always had a knack for spotting lies and reading people. He gained this skill because of his step-father. His line of work pulls this skill out of him where he’s a master at this point. But Giorno could tell you weren’t lying. You were speaking from the heart and meant everything you said.
It surprised him. Many times, when you ask someone why they decided to pursue a certain career or passion, they always lie and say something obnoxious like “I want to give back to my community” or “I just want to help, I don’t need anything in return”.
Lies. All lies.
There’s no truth in their statements. They’re only saying it to make themselves look good. But what they truly desired was always the same thing: money, power, fame. Giorno has met lots of people and they all fall under that blanket. Rarely were there people like Bucciarati who actually wanted to better the lives of others. Giorno thought he may never meet someone like him again. Until now.
“It’s important to you?” he inquired.
“It’s my dream.”
His eyes widen a bit. He didn’t say anything in response to you. But it was almost like something ‘clicked’ in him. He knew what he wanted to do next.
“y/n!!! I’m back! I think the time’s almost up. We should get going so we don’t miss the bus. I’m not trying to walk back to our hotel! I would have come out soon if there wasn’t such a long lineup.” your friend screamed while running towards you.
You turned your head and nodded at her. You were completely distracted by your friend’s screaming.
“Give me a second! I’ll be right there,” you scream back at her and return your attention to Giorno. “Well, È stato bello rivederti (it was nice seeing you again), Giorno.”
“Il piacere è tutto mio, y/n (the pleasure was all mine)” he said, grabbing your right hand and kissing it.
You were taken aback by his sudden gesture but accepted it nonetheless. It would be rude of you to dismiss it since you were quite sure this is Italian culture.
You nod your head and retract your hand from his. Turning away and waving goodbye as you returned to your friend.
***
The day was practically over and your class had travelled a lot today. So it was time to settle back in your hotel and rest for the night.
As you were rummaging through your purse to prepare for your night routine, you noticed something missing.
That’s strange. Where did your pocket mirror go? Sure, it’s small but not small enough for it to be stolen unnoticed. The robber would have to go deep into your purse to get their hands on it. But you had your purse on you the whole day. How could it have been stolen?
“Everything okay, y/n?” your friend asks
“Did any of you guys see my pocket mirror? I know I packed it before we got on the plane,” you asked your roommates.
“It’s not in your purse?”
“No. But I know I packed it.”
“You should be more careful. There’s a lot of good pickpockets here. They’ll try to distract you and then BAM! Your wallet is gone!”
You sigh. You heard about the pickpocketing here in Italy but didn’t think it would have happened to you. You should have been more cautious. Tourists are the number one target for robbers in any country. You just can’t believe you got robbed in broad daylight in a foreign country. The pocket mirror had little worth compared to the other things you packed in your luggage but it didn’t feel good to be robbed.
Before taking another sigh, you felt something move along your right hand. Looking down you see a ladybug crawling across your fingers.
It’s so cute. Though you have to wonder where did it come from? No matter the case, you decide to set it free by opening the window and sticking your hand out. Giving your fingers a little tug to signal the little insect to fly, the ladybug opened its wings and flew away.
Once you confirmed the ladybug had flown away, you shut the windows and walk back to your friends. Not knowing that the ladybug was flying to a certain someone.
#yandere#yandere jjba#yandere jojo x reader#yandere jojo's bizarre adventure#jojo vento aureo#jojo golden wind#jojo part 5#yandere giorno#giorno giovanna#yandere giogio#giorno x reader#solitary love
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suburban dream
summary: how do you wake up from a nightmare? is it a nightmare if you’ve been asleep the whole time?
major warnings: noncon/dubcon smut, stalking, mention of pregnancy, some cum play (check the prompts for indications of other warnings)
a/n: this is for @iraot’s 1.1k writing challenge. BIG congrats on 1.1k (i cannot explain how glad i am that others get to read your amazing work) and another BIG thank you for hosting this challenge.
Here are the results of my wheel spins:
Kink wheel: daddy kink, somnophilia, breeding kink Character wheel: Jake Jensen Situation wheel: Neighbours AU
You let out a breath of relief as you dropped the last brown box into the corner of the room. How you managed to own this much stuff, you’d never know. Glanced around the living room, it was difficult to decide where to begin. After much contemplation, you huffed and picked up the pizza catalogue, deciding to call it a day.
It was unbearable to leave the house in the mess that it was. On the other hand, your right hip wailed in agony every time you bent down. Lacking the much-needed support of friends or family, you had no option but to suck it up and unpack… but that can wait till tomorrow.
Fishing out just the necessities for the night, you climbed up the stairs and headed into the master bedroom. Massive house for one person, you noted. You did insist that an apartment would suffice but Tony was a stickler for rules.
All Stark employees have to be residents of a Stark-Jensen neighbourhood.
Before getting the job, you weren’t even aware that “Stark-Jensen” neighbourhoods were a thing; it was a term coined by the tech company itself, referring to neighbourhoods that are protected by Stark-Jensen technology. The crime rate in these neighbourhoods are always startlingly low, the odd criminal or two being from inside the community itself. All things considered, how could you say no to free housing?
Sure, the security measures assured that you never had to worry, but it also made you wonder why they were there in the first place. This place was as secure as the Stark Tower; why? You tried not to ask too many questions, afraid of getting on Tony’s bad side. Besides, it isn’t characteristic of him to give you a straight answer anyway.
Life is good, your most harrowing concern at the moment being that your new place had no curtains. It had been a long time since things were calm and you were just recognizing that your days had been free of storms for some time now. Counting your blessings for the second time that night, you stepped into the shower and reminded yourself of all the things to be grateful for.
To say you were in a good mood was an understatement. You finished your night routine right as the pizza was delivered and excitedly skipped down. No one told you how fun living alone was but they didn’t need to - you quickly found that independence is a glorious necessity in everyone’s life.
Jake stood bewildered at your person throwing the door open. He gripped the pizza box tight to ensure he didn’t drop it and continued to look at you like you had grown a third head. He never was very good with his words, but your beauty truly inhibited his ability to think.
“Hi?” you asked.
“Hey, I-I’m your neighbour, Jake. Saw that you were moving in and I came to ask if you need any help.”
“Oh,” you contemplated, looking past him. “Where’s the pizza person?”
“I paid for it. Housewarming gift?” he said like a question and handed it over.
You received the warm box and waited for him to say something as he fiddled with his hands. His smile looks so familiar but you couldn’t place your finger on it.
“So…Do you need help?” He looked up right at the end. You grinned at how shy he was.
“I would really appreciate the help tomorrow,” you replied casually.
“Oh, so… I’ll come by tomorrow morning?” He looked hopeful, as if you were the one handing him the olive branch. You took a once-over of his build, sure that he would come handy when your hip gives up again and nodded in response.
He nodded back slowly and turned around to leave, but seeing him at your doorstep felt eerily similar to a puppy left out in the rain.
“I don’t think I can finish this pizza alone,” you called out. He turned around, a glint of happiness apparent in the shine of his eyes.
“Do you have time to help me with this right now?” It was your turn to look hopeful and you really hoped this cutie took the bait.
He did.
You couldn’t ignore the nagging at the back of your head that you had seen him somewhere. You also couldn’t dismiss the fact that dinner together was just a little awkward. The conversation started off with small talk, and it didn’t take a genius to tell that neither of you enjoyed it. Luckily, it shifted to talks about the neighbourhood and your old job. After that, the words flowed easily, the two of you bonding like you had known each other forever. Although it was smooth sailing, you couldn’t help but wonder how he knows so much about the neighbourhood security measures. When he mentioned that he had lived there for about 6 years, you chalked it up to a simple accumulation of knowledge he must’ve acquired from being around for so long.
“So everyone who lives around here works for Stark-Jensen, right?” you questioned, trailing your finger on the rim of your second wine glass for the night.
“Yeah, for the most part. Though it’s hard to tell who works for who.”
You chuckled in agreement.
“What is it with that? I mean, I work for Stark, and my colleagues, too… but exclusively for Stark. Jensen does exist right?”
“Yeah,” he snickered, “He does. Stark makes the tech and Jensen does the coding.”
“So they’re a two-man team, but Tony’s the face of the company? Seems sort of unfair,” you muttered, quirking your brow a little.
Jake smiled at your comment, glanced at his hands and looked back up at you.
“Maybe he wants it to be that way.” He nudged his glasses up and took a little sip of his wine while peering at you.
You cocked your head to the side and considered the information. Your head was hazy and you needed to stop drinking; alcohol and cute guys are not a good mix.
“Wait.” You squinted at him.
“Does that mean you’re a Stark-Jensen employee?”
He let out a chortle and took your glass from you.
“Hey, hey I want that back!” you whined, not even caring that you’re embarrassing yourself.
“I think that’s enough for today.” He gently helped you up, waiting for you to move.
“I can usually handle my liquor,” you promised, clinging onto his broad form for support.
He started moving you up to your lone mattress in the corner of your room, softly laying you down.
“Jake,” you caught his arm. “You didn’t answer the question. Do you work for Stark-Jensen?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
You pouted at his answer, still gripping his wrist like you owned him. He tenderly pried your fingers off him and placed them on your belly.
“See you tomorrow,” he mumbled as he left your room. You drifted asleep easily, blissfully unaware of how you’d never be able to live down the humiliation of your drunken stupor.
The next day, you hoped Jake wouldn’t show up. It would save you from the burning heat that crept up your neck every time you recalled the night before.
Unfortunately, Jake had found it way too amusing an opportunity to tease you, showing up at your doorstep at 10 AM on the dot.
The day went on without a hitch, the conversation picking up easily from where you left off. Jake found it endearing when you groaned at the mention of your state, only after three glasses of wine. The question of his employment never crossed your mind again, both of you having way too much fun unpacking. You felt ten times better knowing that your neighbour was a loveable, single, hunky nerd; it made the stress of settling in that much better.
Of course, like all good things, the weekend came to an end. Monday morning, you eagerly prepped yourself for a new week at the office. Being Tony’s right hand took five rounds of interviews as well as background checks into every living relative you had. After the turbulent hiring process, you found that the job was not any easier. Luckily, the move had you feeling more thankful about being in sync with all the Stark tech; with FRIDAY managing your house and personal appointments, it was easier to keep track of Tony’s day.
You stepped out of the house and shielded your eyes from the beautiful day. Just then, your lovely new friend stepped onto his porch wearing casual attire.
“Have fun at work!” he called after you.
“Thanks! Are you going to work?”
“Yes, I am.” You took in his outfit one more time, chuckling as you wondered what job would pay enough to live here while dressed in sweats.
“Well, in case I don’t see ya’... Good afternoon, good evening and good night!” you exclaim loudly.
Jake giggled like a schoolboy and waved goodbye before ducking into his car.
Tony’s 10 AM meeting has been pushed to 11 AM, Miss L/N.
“No, no, that won’t do! He has another meeting at 12 PM, the timing will clash. FRIDAY, who was he supposed to meet at 10 AM?”
Speaking to the AI felt more like talking to yourself, but with time, you assured yourself that it would look as cool as Stark when handling your things.
He’s meeting Mr Jensen, the co-founder of Stark-Jensen. I believe you have not met him yet.
“Yeah, I haven’t. Could you call him for me, FRIDAY?”
Sorry Miss L/N, Mr Jensen’s phone is switched off. He has already notified Tony of the change in plans.
“What an asshole,” you grumbled.
On the contrary, I think you would like Mr Jensen, Miss L/N.
“You can just call me Y/N, FRIDAY. Oh, and, send out a notification to all of today’s meeting hosts and tell them to push it by one hour. If they complain, send them my number to take up any problems they have.”
It’ll be done by the time you reach your office.
“Thank you,” you smiled and pulled into your parking spot, right beside Tony’s.
It was hard to imagine what would’ve happened today if Tony didn’t give you access to FRIDAY. Calling each meeting host and personally asking them to push their meetings seemed like a tedious and mind-bending task. And frankly, you didn’t ever look forward to talking to Karen’s. But now, you would never have to know; FRIDAY was an absolute godsend.
You stepped onto the other side of security clearance just as the clock struck 9 AM. Strutting up to your office, you made a mental checklist of everything you need to do during the day. Usually, Tony didn’t require you to sit in for his meetings. He has a different set of assistants for note-taking purposes.
Too consumed by your thoughts, you didn’t notice the large picture of Jake and Tony sitting side by side on the wall beside the elevators. You also didn’t notice Jake’s smirk as he passed by you with ease. He would’ve stopped to say hi, but he knew that you didn’t realize who he was yet. Now he just had to figure out a way to get you to show up to his and Tony’s meeting and give you the heart attack of a lifetime.
Beep, beep.
The Stark-watch buzzed on your wrist, letting you know that Tony was calling for you. You had barely even stepped into the elevator and he was already whining like a baby.
You shook your head and stepped into the doorframe of his lab.
“Come here!” his voice called from the far end of a lab. Your suspicions of him being under the work table were confirmed when he wheeled out on his back and handed you a wrench.
“Do me a favour. Tighten this for me?”
He handed you the arm of an Iron Man suit, what you assumed was his latest mark. He already lived at the lab as it was, you wondered how he ever had time for Pepper.
“Come on, put your arm into it L/N! You know what, you’re distracted, give it here.”
“Did you call me here to tighten your screws?” You shifted your weight onto one leg and crossed your arms. It was sassy of you, but Tony’s assistant needs to have some backbone, famously said by Rhodey.
“Well, you know me, screws always loose.” He knocked on his head and chuckled at his own joke. You sighed and turned to walk out.
“I need you to sit in for my 11 o’clock. And cancel everything else today.”
You gasped and turned again, marching to where he was lying down.
“Tony Stark, you have no regard for anyone’s time! I already pushed everything back by one hour because of your buddy Jensen and now you’re asking me to cancel everything?”
“I know, and I agree. I wish I could go to the mind-numbing meetings with corporate clowns, but I want to show you and Jensen something cool.”
He stopped fiddling with his toy just long enough to glance at you.
You sighed and called for FRIDAY, groaning for the umpteenth time since that morning. Why were you acting like this was the first time he’s done this? It was probably your lack of energy from moving. You couldn’t wait to get home and maybe call Jake over for dinner. Now that you considered this possibility, time seemed to pass slower, but at least there was something worthwhile to look forward to.
When 10:55 rolled around, you were sitting in Tony’s lab, patiently waiting as Tony set up his latest invention for demonstration.
“Where’s your buddy?” you asked, checking your watch for the time again.
“On his way,” he replied without turning away from his work.
He paused and took a step back to admire his work before facing you.
“You haven’t met Jake, have you?”
“Jake?”
Right on cue, Jake walked through the doors of the labs and you whipped around to find your grinning friend.
“Howdy neighbour,” Jake sneered.
“Oh, right. You live beside each other,” Tony muttered as he gathered some more things from his desk.
You shamelessly inhaled the pinewood and vanilla-infused scent of Jake as he sat down beside you. To have him so close to you was a dangerous thing, your cunt unknowingly clenching every time he moved his biceps.
“Stop making heart-eyes at him.”
You threw whatever was in your hand at Tony’s head, and it happened to be a pen. It narrowly missed as he ducked and doubled over in laughter at your embarrassment. The bastard took sick pleasure in it so he often made it a point to humiliate you, but it usually wasn’t in front of the co-CEO of the world’s largest tech company.
The rest of your time in that lab went on without any heart attacks - as far as anyone knew, the slick between your thighs doesn’t account for a ‘heart attack’, per se. You shouldn’t even be thinking about Jake like that. He was technically your boss too.
Tony dismissed you at lunch and told you to take the rest of the day off, much to your delight. You slid into your car and dropped your head onto the steering wheel.
You had barely moved into the neighbourhood and you’re already finding ways to be fired.
~Time skip~
You sighed and laid back in the over-the-top maternity chair Jake got you for feeding. Your baby gurgled as curled his little fingers into his palm before knocking on your breast once. With a light chuckle, you cooed as the little bundle began falling asleep.
This was the only place in the house that had a sliver of sunlight gracing the inside of the house.
You could have outdoor privileges if you didn’t pull that little stunt.
Could you really blame yourself for trying to leave? How were you to know that it’s impossible to leave a Stark-Jensen neighbourhood?
Because it says “Stark-Jensen” in the name, you dumbass.
Fair enough.
You lost count of how many times you sigh on the daily, instead opting to count the number of times you’re able to hold off a mental breakdown. Today, you got the rare privilege of privacy, with Jake being gone to another one of Stark’s presentation.
You reminisced about the last time you sat in Tony’s lab and watched him explain his latest creation. Little did you know that the first time you sat with Jake in there would also be the last time you ever sat in there.
You gently placed the Jim in the cradle. Again, one of the many over-the-top investments made by Jake to ensure the baby got state-of-the-art care. The way Jensen had made you sit beside him as he put the contraption together almost had you lurching. But you didn’t want to wake the baby. The horridness of the memories cannot outweigh your will to keep Jimmy from crying.
“Look at it!”, Jake excitedly spun the box to show you. It must’ve cost an unreasonable amount of money - not that he couldn’t spare to spend the coin, but the purchase confirmed your worst suspicions; he was serious about this all.
Your eyes, puffy from the days of crying, were barely open. Yet you still nodded, figuring that if you put up with his enthusiasm now, he’ll let you go to sleep without raping you like he did every night.
Anyway, you were wrong.
When did everything go so wrong?; How?
You picked up your phone. Your eyes flickered between the only two contacts saved on it. Jake made sure you couldn’t do anything except call him or Tony.
You missed your ex-boss (who was always more of a friend to you). But, it was obvious that calling him wasn’t worth it and would rarely yield any fruitful conversation. Tony always spoke as if he were walking on glass around you and your words were always monitored and censored by Jake. It didn’t take long to figure that one out.
“I don’t know what happened, Tony, she’s just unhinged,” Jake explained over the phone. In the background, you struggled against the bonds that held you to his bedframe. You sobbed harder into your gag and tried to scream ‘help’. All that came out was a shriek.
“You hear her? She’s completely unfit to come into work… What happened? I don’t know man… She’s breaking down under all the stress. A few days of rest might do the trick. No, no, you don’t have to come down. I’ll take care of it.”
He ended the call and you went limp, pausing your hysteria. He smiled at you as if he hadn’t kidnapped you. As if he hadn’t just made Tony believe that you were off your rockers. As if he hadn’t just fucked you five times over the span of 48 hours.
He had planned every step of your entrapment to the letter and it was all going according to his plan.
You put your phone facedown on the dining table and walked back upstairs to your room. His room. Your room, too.
Never, you internally screamed.
Well, it’s too late to debate it.
You stood at the foot of your bed and traced the footboard. He took you countless amount of times on this bed and every instance held some clue that he was working up to what was happening now. You could see that now - but what was the point now?
You giggled as Jake pushed you onto his bed. Who knew this golden retriever could be so rough?
“Shhshshshhh” you slurred and Jake laughed in response.
“Tony’s not here, baby,” he replied, climbing on top of you.
“We’re not gonna get fired?”
“He can’t fire me, sweetheart.”
“Oh… yeah.” You frowned, remembering that your risqué relationship was only risky for you.
In your drunken haze, you didn’t realize Jake was rubbing his bulbous tip against your folds, gathering slick.
“Condom?”
“Don’t have,” Jake lied.
“Oh,” you hesitated.
“It’ll feel so good, baby.” He nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck and sunk in before you had the chance to protest.
“Jakeeee,” you whined. Writhing under his grasp, you shook your head side-to-side as he vigorously fucked into you.
He abruptly stopped and pulled out. “What have I said about saying my name?”
“I’m sorry, daddy,” you sheepishly say.
“That’s right, slut. You’re gonna make me a daddy, right?” He pushed back in.
“Yeah, you are. Gonna make me a daddy, so call me daddy.”
The implication of his words flew right over your head in your drunken haze and blank mind. Any ounce of sense that you had left was being fucked out by his thick length.
“Gonna blow my load. Fill you tight cunt, not gonna last long.”
His words were broken with loud moans. He couldn’t think straight with your warm, wet pussy inviting him in over and over.
As you shook from an overwhelming orgasm, your pussy involuntarily clenched, causing Jake to lose any last bit of restraint he was holding onto. He pushed in as far as he could go as you flailed around. He pinned your arms down and pressed his mouth into yours, delivering a hot and heavy kiss that had you panting.
He pulled out, but the string of cum that followed made you blanch. You never were one for cum play. Still, you didn’t protest when Jake pushed everything back in with two fingers.
“Gotta’ make sure you’re full baby.”
You shake your head now, but again, what’s the point? It’s all done and dusted. Though, you should give yourself some credit. Even if you had realized earlier, it wouldn’t have made a difference. He would’ve realized that you knew before you could’ve even thought about escaping.
As you drifted asleep, you adjusted the volume of the baby monitor one last time and slumped into the fluffy pillows.
How do you wake up from dreams? Was it by pinching yourself? You couldn’t wake up from the nightmare that was your reality when you pinched yourself. You doubted that would work right now. You couldn’t recall how to open your eyes. Instead, you whimpered in your sleep, reliving the moment Jake finally revealed his ulterior motive
“You did what?” Jake was seething, but the only indication of it was his clenching jaw and red face. His tone was the perfect embodiment of the calm before a storm.
“I know you aren’t happy… but Jake, you- you’re always talking about babies and a family. It was so overwhelming and I… I-I…” You were shivering now, unable to withstand the heat of his glare. You had never been on the receiving end of his anger. Hell, you had never even seen him angry.
“I didn’t have an abortion, Jake, for god’s sake stop looking at me like a killed a baby! Plan B is not a crime. I’m only even bringing this up because I started on birth control anyway. Plan B every time we have sex is just not practical or feasible.”
At this point, you could’ve been speaking to a wall. Jake still hadn’t said anything and you were beginning to wonder if he had even been listening.
“I can’t believe I didn’t notice,” he whispered, at last.
“What?”
“I watch you do everything, I can’t believe I didn’t know about the Plan B.”
“What… What are you saying?”
“I said,” Jake stood up, “I’ve basically been watching you 24/7. And I don’t know how I didn’t notice this.”
“What do you mean watching me?” Tears in your waterline were threatening to blur your vision but you blinked furiously in an attempt to keep looking Jake in the eyes.
“You think FRIDAY works for you?”
Jake leisurely cracked each knuckle and took a step towards you. You took one back.
“Oh, now, don’t be like that.”
You woke from your nightmare that was the boiling pot and jumped straight into the fire. Jake was already moving in and out of your channel, moaning about how he missed you too much.
You tried to adjust yourself but he caught your arms and pulled out just long enough to flip you onto your stomach.
When he pushed back in, the hopelessness of your life manifested as tears; it happens every once in a while.
Today, you had a new record: you were able to hold off a total of 7 breakdowns.
But, of course, that was right before he pinched you awake every time.
Masterlist
#jake jensen#the losers#chris evans#chris evans fic#chris evans characters#Chris Evans character#jake jensen fic#dark!jake jensen#dark!jake jensen x you#dark!jake jensen x reader#dark!jake#poc reader#black!reader#chubby!reader#plus size!reader#fic#mcu#marvel#the losers fic#iraotwheelsofdebaucherychallenge#1.1k challenge
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Beautiful Ghosts
Ghost!Reader X Draco
Summary: Request: @sydthekid1518: I had an Idea for a draco fic, where y/n is a ghost that’s fairly popular with the students and staff, and draco falls for her and stuff? And then maybe y/n and Harry create a plan that would allow reader to come back to life and stuff and be with draco.
A/N: Happy spooky season to all and to all a good night filled with Draco Malfoy. I’m so excited about how this turned out and that I got it done before Halloween because the odds weren’t looking to hot not gonna lie, but here it is and it’s beautiful. As always, let me know what y’all think,,,
“Y/n, please don’t disturb my students,” Snape droned with a monotone voice.
“You’ve got no power over me, Severus,” I laughed, ghosting away from his Slytherins working on Polyjuice potion.
“But I do have control in this classroom, dead or not Miss Y/n, this is my domain,” Snape argued, ruffled.
“I’m eternally bonded to this school. It’s my domain more than it is yours,” I countered, perched on his desk.
“Blasted ghosts,” A boy muttered, catching my attention, “No respect for authority,”
Tilting my head, I made my way over to him, studying the young Slytherin. He was about the age that I was when I had died, moved on, crossed the veil—whatever. His steady grey eyes and twisted sneer told me all that I needed to know about him.
“Another Malfoy,” I mused. “Interesting... And where’s your respect for the dead Mr. Malfoy?”
His eyes went wide at the idea that I was addressing him at all. Like I spooked him. Imagine that, a ghost spooking someone.
“Enough Ms. Y/n. Kindly refrain from scaring my students if you must stay,” Snape intervened. “I’m not scared,” Malfoy shot back.
“Boo!” I teased before passing through the walls of the dungeon and into my favorite spot in the entire castle, even living: the library.
I never had so much time on my hands before being dead, and now I could just take a book and read. Pince had been able to enchant them in such a way that I was able to hold them and turn their pages still. I was in the middle of a riveting tale about a boy who never grew up and had his destiny forced upon him and could fly. Perched on one of the tops of the shelves, I was lost in another world of magic.
“I didn’t know you could read,” I heard the same condescending voice from Severus’ potions class earlier that day.
“Little Malfoy,” I smiled down at him, closing my book. “And why would you assume that? I don’t look that stupid, do I?”
“Well, no,” He fumbled. “But you’re a ghost, you’re dead,”
“Yes, and I like to read, anything else?” I raised an eyebrow at him.
“Don’t call me little Malfoy. My name’s Draco,” He huffed.
“But it annoys you,” I mocked a pout. “And you are a little Malfoy, a bit taller than your father, but young all the same,”
“Who are you calling young? We’re the same age,” His voice raised enough that Pince had to shush him.
“I was born in 1776, I think you’re a little young,”
“1776!?” Draco’s eyes bulged. “But... how? You’re...” Pince hushed him again. I floated down and perched on the desk, trying and failing to contain my laughter.
“Oh, so now you care little Malfoy?” I teased lightly. “What happened to your dismissal of spirits not hours ago?” He didn’t have an answer for that. He just stared and didn’t dare to meet my eyes. “If you really want to know, I’ll tell you some time, but you’re going to be late for McGonagall if you don’t get going,”
Flustered, Draco headed out of the library and I watched him go. Knowing that Remus had a class this hour with the infamous Harry Potter, I headed over and perched on a desk in the back.
“Miss Y/n,” Remus acknowledged, “Perhaps you’d like to aid us today as we learn about ghosts and spirits?” Even though he had grown quite a bit over the years, there was still the same shine in his eyes when he was able to teach—even if it wasn’t a rag-tag group of marauders.
“So... you’re a ghost?” A young Hermione asked, a girl who spent a lot of hours in my library.
“Yes,” I smiled at her. “There are different types of ghosts however,”
“Oh, yes, Poltergeists, Funnels, Whisps, Orbs, and Shades,” She said matter-of-factly.
“Exactly, and Hogwarts has them all,” I looked to Remus who nodded for me to continue. “Most of you know that Peeves is a Poltergeist, a trickster loud ghost. Sometimes they were loud and violent, sometimes... well sometimes you have something like Peeves.” The class laughed.
“I’m sure you all have heard of the Grey Lady?” Remus interjected. “Helena Ravenclaw was murdered by the Bloody Baron and spends the rest of her days here at Hogwarts, they are both what we classify as Funnel ghosts. Ghosts who visit loved ones or loved places,”
“What about Whisps?” An intrigued Weasley asked.
“Well, most others are Whisps,” I explained. “Nearly Headless Nick, the Fat Friar, and most others you see strolling about. There is no strict reason that they’re here, other than they chose not to move on, or felt their work on earth was not completed.”
“Orbs are normally the spirits of animals or humans travelling about,” I continued, “They mainly show up in photographs. It wasn’t till after I died that cameras were invented, and they were found,”
“Any what kind of ghost are you?” A shy kid in the back asked. The class of kids turned to me, all expectant.
“I’m a Shade,” I explained. “It means that when I died, I wasn’t meant to. My soul knowing that, remained, and here I am,”
“Shades are very rare in the Wizarding World,” Remus cut in, “Not many are killed before their time, and many of them are very young,”
“Aren’t Shades allowed to come back though?” Hermione asked. “Because they were wrongfully killed? Doesn’t fate allow them another chance?”
Remus and I shared a look. I remembered when he had asked me that same question when he was no more than a third year as well. There was a solemn sorrow in his eyes.
“Yes,” I answered hesitantly. “There is a possibility, but the odds are almost impossible. Most of them have to do around prophecies.”
Class had ended, and Hermione waved as she went to leave. I lingered behind a bit with Remus for old times’ sake. He was one who had always been kind to me. I was one who never judged him for being a werewolf before he found his marauders.
“Sirius escaped from Azkaban,” He whispered softly, his gaze fixed on the papers on his desk. “I... I thought I was over it. Over him. He had my best friends killed,”
Pity flooded my chest as I hovered over to him, my hand ghosting above his.
“That wasn’t your fault Remus...” Was I going to give away the truth that I knew? Or would I keep it a secret? “And it wasn’t Sirius’ either,”
“How can you say that!” Remus slammed his hand on the desk. “He gave away Lily and James’ location! Then he killed Peter!”
“Remus,” I shook my head. “I can’t tell you everything, because it’s not in the stars, but... your friend isn’t who you think he is,”
A quiet moment passed between us and rather than get upset at me like I had thought he would, he spoke softly and surely.
“You’re... you’re saying there’s hope?”
“There’s always hope,” I offered a soft smile. “For all of us... even me,”
“How are you doing with that? The prophecy?” He asked.
I sighed and shook my head. “I might really be stuck like this for the rest of... forever...”
“Is there anything...?”
“No,” I denied softly. “Interfering with a prophecy can ruin it,”
“Can,” Remus stressed. “Not that it will,”
“But is it worth that risk?” I countered. “I could lose my one shot to come back. To be human again,”
“If I could be human again, I’d take any chance I could,” Remus’ eyes held a sadness that very few could sympathize with. One of those was me.
“Perhaps you’re right,” I murmured and let him be, drifting around the halls for a bit then back to the library to think some more and maybe find the right answer.
What I didn’t expect to find however was Draco, fast asleep where we had spoken earlier, draped over a few books and handwritten notes. I hadn’t noticed the late hour, sometimes time did elude me, and the days seemed to run together.
I didn’t want to wake the young Malfoy, instead, I peered at the books underneath him. Potions books, it seemed. Supposing that a Slytherin might have a partiality to Snape’s class, there was no need to question why he’d rather work on this subject than the others. Knowing Pince would chase Draco out of the library if he didn’t wake, my notion to not disturb him fell to the wayside.
“Malfoy!” I whispered loudly. “Draco, wake up!”
It was useless to try and shake him awake, I wasn’t able to. I could however pull the book out from under his resting head. So, I did.
“Bloody hell,” Draco grumbled, rubbing his eyes. “What’d you do that for?”
“You fell asleep?”
“And that was the only way you know how to wake a person?” He snapped, blinking into consciousness.
I gave him a flat look and reached out to touch him. He shied away, but it was in vain because my hand passed right through his material body.
“Oh,” He muttered. “But you can touch the books?”
“Pince and I worked on that together,” I informed him. “Did you think I would spend eternity and not figure out how to read?”
“I... uh,” He stammered, blushing a bit. “How come I’ve never met a ghost like you before?”
“And that means?” I pressed, perching on the desk.
“Well, all of the other ghosts are... I don’t know... stuck in their ways? Not sad about being ghosts? Haven’t kept up on things like reading?”
“You think I’m sad about being a ghost?” I mused.
“I... you—I mean,” He stammered, looking down in embarrassment. “You just seem... optimistically hopeless,” It was almost mumbled through his exhaustion.
“You know those words have opposite meaning, right?” I teased softly. “And... I’m a Shade. I doubt you’ve met another before like me,”
“A Shade?”
“Do you not pay attention in Remus’ class?” I raised an eyebrow at him.
“I don’t have his class until tomorrow,” Draco dismayed. “And it’s a stupid class anyway,”
“Defense against the dark arts isn’t stupid,” I refuted. “Especially with Remus teaching it,”
“You knew him then... when he went here. Professor Lupin,” Draco noted.
“Yes,” Lost in thought, a quietness passed before I spoke again. “When you learn what a Shade is, you’ll understand,”
“You could just tell me,” Draco whined, listlessly tired.
“But then you won’t pay attention in class,” I smiled. “Go on to bed, Draco. I’m not going anywhere,”
____________________________
Draco sulked in bed that night, thinking about you. Thinking about what a Shade was. Of course, he didn’t wait for class in the morning, instead he took out his DADA book and began to read up on ghosts. And he read. And read. And read. And barely found anything about what a Shade was. All that he knew was that you died when before your time. Maybe that was why he saw the sadness in your eyes.
He had every intention to be at Lupin’s class that day, but having Mythical Creatures beforehand, things hadn’t gone as planned.
“There’s always one,” Your voice sounded amused. “Why am I not surprised it was you, Little Malfoy?”
“It was the bloody hippogriff,” Draco snapped back.
“And somehow I don’t think that’s the entire truth,” You mused, hovering at his bedside. Until Pomfrey gave him the clear to leave, he was stuck with you.
“Won’t you just leave me alone?” He groaned, closing his eyes and laying back on the lumpy pillows of the hospital cot.
“Did you not want to learn about Shades? You’re going to miss Remus’ class after all,” The smile he heard in your voice made him look over to you, skeptical.
Your offer was tempting. Very tempting. He didn’t care much about magic other than excelling at it, therefore things that didn’t pertain to his advancement—mythical creatures and the like— held no inkling to him. And yet, you were a mystery he didn’t mind learning about. He wanted to know more about you. And you specifically.
“I guess, since I’m stuck here,” He tried to play it off as nonchalance, but you raised an eyebrow at him, seeing right through his charade.
“Well, Little Malfoy,” You hovered and perched on the end of his bed. “What do you know?”
“I... uh. Shades are people who have died before their time,” He stammered, not sure why he was so nervous.
“Quite,” You nodded. “Anything else?”
“Our book didn’t have anything else,” He admitted.
You went pensive a moment then nodded. “I suppose that you’d learn more about me in Divination than the Dark Arts,”
“Divination? You’ve got to be bloody joking! That class is a circus!” Draco exclaimed, wincing when he moved his arm too much.
“Perhaps,” You didn’t berate him, but seemed to be lost in thought once more. “But all Shades are tied to prophecies.”
“All of them?” Draco pressed.
“The fates understand that these souls left before their time, and give them another chance, a prophecy... to come back and live one more time.”
“So, you have the chance to live again?” His genuine curiosity seemed to shock both of you. “How?”
“If the prophecy is fulfilled, then I get to live again,” You said it as if it were obvious.
“So, why haven’t you, I don’t know... fulfilled it?” Draco asked.
You laughed something sad and soft. “Don’t you think I’ve tried? I’ve read every prophecy, every book, every scribble. I’ve tried everything... after so many centuries, you give up hope and accept your fate,”
“But this wasn’t your fate,” He argued back. “You were meant to live, back then, whatever that life was,”
“Do you know what happened when I was young, before I died, Little Malfoy?” You spoke, and he could hear the age in your voice though you liked no older than he was. It was your sorrow that aged you. He waited for you to continue. “I was born in 1776, the year the Americans went to war with the King of England. At the time we were living in the French countryside with my aunt because my father had gone to fight in the war. He was a general,” A smile ghosted your lips. “My father died in the war... the battle of Yorktown... that’s what it’s called today. Back then it was just a letter and inheritance money that went to my brother,”
“Hang on, you’re saying that your father fought in the American War of Independence? Under the king?”
“So, he can be taught,” You smiled at him. “Yes, the king at the time was a wizard and until parliament and the ministry were born and declared that muggles and wizards should rule themselves. Of course, the ministry was formed in the beginning of that century, but it took the war for them to call the final straw.”
“So, your father died in the war, that doesn’t explain what happened to you,” Draco pointed out, deeply invested.
“Well, tell me, what happened in France after that war ended?”
“The French Revolution,”
Your warm smile had the same effect as the sun. “Yes, and as I said, I was in France at the time, being tutored at home for the summer. Muggle girls weren’t allowed to go to school back then... I travelled to Hogwarts to receive schooling and even then, I was only allowed to learn Herbology and Potions. At least those two classes stayed the same,” You sounded sad and wistful. “But the revolutionists were going for the rich, any sort of rich. And at the time, they saw knowledge as wealth and power, and I had a reputation for being able to read and attending a private school out of the country and well...”
“They killed you because you knew how to read?” Draco distressed, sitting up, enraptured by your tale. “That’s so... stupid,”
“It was. But perhaps it was my own fault, I wouldn’t deny that I could read. I was proud.” Your smile faded again as melancholy settled on your face. “Now it seems that’s all I do. Fate is funny like that...”
“You’re free to go Mr. Malfoy,” Madam Pomfrey’s voice seemed to draw you both from whatever world had been created with your words.
He had to blink a few times to come to grips with the fact that he was currently in the hospital wing at Hogwarts, and not centuries behind, trying to imagine death for the reason of knowledge. There was an awkward moment between the two of you as you both seemed to realize that you were no longer int eh late eighteenth century. You offered a smile and left without another word, a curious look on your face as you left.
That was the last time he saw you that day, and that week for that matter, but he always wondered what you were doing. What were you reading today? What was your prophecy? Was it really as hopeless as you said it was? Was there a reason that he found himself caring?
______________________
“Oh, hello Harry,” I stood from the corner of Remus’ office, intrigued that the young Potter had come. He looked so much like his father that my heart ached for Remus and to imagine what he felt when he saw Harry.
“Y/n,” Harry seemed surprised. “I... uh... you know Professor Lupin?”
“Well I was here when he went to Hogwarts himself, so yes, I’m quite fond of him if you can believe it,” I smiled as Remus eyed the situation.
“Is there something that you needed Harry?” Remus asked, trying to sound professional, but I could hear the sentiment in his voice.
“The map...” Harry turned slightly pink.
A smile grew on my face. “You have the Marauder’s Map?” I almost laughed. “How in the world did you get that? Oh, if your father knew,” I did laugh this time.
Remus shot me a sharp look and Harry looked at me in wonder.
“My father? You knew my father?” The realization seemed to dawn him.
“Yes, well,” Remus interjected sharply. “Don’t get caught again Potter,”
“Why haven’t you told him?” I demanded as soon as Harry left. “Remus, come on, that’s not fair to Harry,”
“I’m not the one to tell him though! I can’t be!” He protested and I could hear the anxiety in his voice.
“Remus, I’ve known you a long time. And I’ve known James and Lily. They would want you to talk to him. They would want you apart of his life,” I argued, or perhaps encouraged softly.
“Maybe you’re right,” Remus mumbled.
“Of course, I am,” I smiled. “It’ll work out Re, with Sirius, and with Harry,”
“I hope you’re right,”
I left him to his thoughts and on my way to the library, I was ambushed by the younger Potter. Not that I wasn’t expecting it, I knew that Harry would have questions for me as soon as he knew I knew his father.
“Hello Harry,” I smiled.
“You know about my dad,” He burst out, hope in his eyes and tone.
“And your mother,” I smiled and perched on the windowsill nearby.
“Can you tell me about them? Please?” His eyes went glossy with tears that he blinked away.
“Your mother was bold, but still kind and gentle. She looked out for the little guy. She rooted for the underdog and protected the younger years of any House. She was always kind to me. Her and Remus both.” The memory was fond, if it was a memory. Did ghosts have memories after they were dead?
“And my dad?” He clung to every word.
“He... was a bit like you. Always finding trouble whether it was his fault or not. Totally deserved to be smacked a few times... but the war changed him. He grew up rather quickly. Into a protective caring young man. Almost everyone had eyes for him, but he only saw your mother,”
“Do... you think they would be proud of me?” His gaze dropped to his beat-up sneakers.
“Harry,” I called his attention. “You’re their son, they’ll always be proud of you,”
“But—”
“No buts,” I interjected. “That’s all it takes for you to make them proud, I promise,”
He nodded and mumbled a thanks before taking off toward the Gryffindor dorm. Finding solace in the library, I began to read again. Maybe a week had passed. Perhaps two. I wasn’t sure. I was so wrapped up in my books that I became lost to time. Until a blond-haired boy came in, his nose stuck in a book.
“I was wondering when I’d see you again Little Malfoy,” I smiled, from my perch in the library. He didn’t acknowledge me, causing me to frown. “Draco?” I ghosted down and perched on the table next to him. “Are you ghosting a ghost?”
Though he ignored me I could see the smile that twitched at his lips. That gave me little hope. “Is everything alright?” I asked, genuine concern coloring my voice.
“Ask Potter,” Draco snapped. “You seem to fancy him lately,”
“Excuse me?” I was taken aback. “Harry? He just wanted to know about his parents, that’s all,”
Draco frowned at this and he finally looked at me. “His parents?”
“Yes,” I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like he has a lot of people who know his parents and are willing to tell him anything. Dumbledore has made almost everyone vow not to talk to him, but what good is a vow to someone who’s already in the grave?” I shrugged. “Poor kid knows nothing,”
“I...” Draco didn’t seem to have the words. Instead he looked back down at his book. I smiled and rolled my eyes at his antics.
“If you care that much, you are still my favorite Little Malfoy,” His cheeks tinged pink and I laughed. “You’re something else Malfoy, you know that?”
“Says the girl who died for admitting that she could read instead of lying,” He raised an eyebrow at me. I chuckled and shrugged.
“Says the boy who avoided me for what, two weeks, because I talked to a boy about his dead parents,” I mused.
“It wasn’t two weeks,” Draco grumbled. “Nine days,”
“Oh, forgive me,” I laughed. “Nine days.”
He smiled and looked back down at his notes. I think it was the first time I had ever seen him smile and not sneer.
“So, nine days,” He prompted. “I assume you haven’t left the library... read anything interesting?”
I laughed and somehow the hours passed as Draco and I spoke about books and stories we had read as kids, and the ones we were currently invested in. It shocked me to know that he was an avid reader, of fantasy novels, nonetheless. Though I had read just about everyone that he had mentioned, there were a few that I added to my mental list of his that I said I would check out. He seemed sincerely happy at my interest of the books he read.
“Father thought they were childish,” He muttered when I asked him about it. “Fairytales and fantasies,”
“That’s stupid,” I scoffed, and Draco gaped at me, aghast that I would dare to call something his father said ‘stupid.’ It made me pause. “You... you know you don’t have to always agree with your parents,”
His gaze cast downward. “I don’t want to disappoint them,”
My face furrowed. “You’re they’re son, that’s enough for them to be proud,”
“You don’t know my parents,” He scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “I think the last time they were proud of me, is when I was sorted into Slytherin.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” I protested.
“You don’t know my parents,” Draco argued again.
“I do,” I retorted. “Or I did,”
The notion seemed to dawn on Draco as he stared up at me with wonder in his eyes.
“You did,” He realized. “Can you tell me about them... have they always been so...”
“Strict?” I offered.
“Suffocating,” Draco supplied.
I pressed my lips together and thought a moment.
“Your father, perhaps. I never spoke to him much, and he never paid me mind. But you mother,” I smiled at the memories that came flooding back. “She was bold, cunning. She loved her sisters with a fierce passion.” My smile. “The three of them were some of the brightest witches I’d ever seen,” I glanced over to him. “You have her eyes, her same spirit,”
A smile drew on his lips as his face turned a soft shade of pink. “Do you know that because you’re a ghost?” He mused.
“No, I’m just a girl who can read character pretty well. After seeing so many faces pass through here, and reading so many stories, there are those who stand out and stay with you. Your mother... she stood out to me. And I can see her in your eyes,” My demeanor softened as I realized the words I was saying and if I could have, I would have blushed.
“Thank you,” He whispered as the clock chimed a late hour.
“You should head back,” I sighed softly. “Get some rest,”
“Why don’t I ever see you near the Slytherin dorm?” Draco asked, gathering his things.
“I’d rather not cross paths with the Baron,” I admitted.
“The Baron? Why?” Draco frowned; his bag slung over his shoulder.
“Never you mind,” I smiled. “Get to bed Little Malfoy,”
“Don’t call me that,” He grumbled, trudging out of the library.
The night progressed as did the month and I went from one book to another, soon searching for a book I hadn’t in a long time. My diary from when I was alive. Published as its own book that I had found a few decades ago. Tucked into the pages was what held my fate. My prophecy.
I went to the shelf in which I knew my book had its home, but it wasn’t there. Instead a sliver of time carved away by my missing book. Drifting over to Pince I asked her about where my book had gone. She told me that Malfoy had checked it out and had it for about a week—since the day we spent in the infirmary together.
For the first time in a long time I felt... embarrassed that my story and thoughts were on display for anyone to read. I never cared before, but this felt different.
Cursing the late hour, I knew that there was no way to get to Draco now. The Bloody Baron was protective about other ghosts coming into the Slytherin dorms. I’d have to find him in the morning then. I considered loitering outside the Slytherin portrait, but I also did not want to go anywhere near the Bloody Baron. I had heard and read enough.
So instead I headed to the Astronomy Tower to watch the stars again, having silent conversations with them, wondering if they’d ever grant me life again.
“You’re glowing,”
The voice startled me enough that I actually jumped. The irony of scaring a ghost. I turned to see Draco behind me, his eyes glued to my shimmering skin.
“Yes, all ghosts do it under the moon and stars,” I noted. “By the way, can I have my book back?” I stood, going over to him.
“Your book?” He questioned.
“My book,” I restressed. “My diary? That you have from the library? The one that has my—” I stopped myself.
“Your prophecy.” Draco finished, offering me the book that he had drawn from his robes. “Yeah, I know.”
I stared at him curiously, pulling the book back into the security of my arms, where it belonged. That uncertain feeling returned to my chest.
“You know it’s rude to read a girl’s diary,” I retorted, defensive.
“It’s a published book in the library, anyone can read it,” Draco rolled his eyes. I gave him a flat look and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “So, have you figured out what it means?”
I sighed softly and shook my head in defeat. “The only thing I’m sure of is the great star is Sirius,”
“Sirius, like Sirius Black? Escaped Azkaban criminal?” Draco exasperated.
“Well, the star is his name sake. But I’m sure you of all people know that Draco,” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Your family has a knack for celestial namesakes. If I remember correctly, Sirius is your mother’s cousin,”
“What?” Draco demanded. “No! There is no way!”
“Draco,” I reached out for him in vain as he paced in anger and confusion. “Draco will you calm down?” I nearly shouted.
“Calm down!? How can I when I know that I’m related to that criminal!?” He demanded.
“Sirius isn’t a criminal!” I argued back. “He didn’t kill Peter or those people!” I gasped, covering my mouth in shame, my eyes wide. That was a secret that I wasn’t supposed to tell.
“What do you mean he didn’t kill those people?” Draco sneered, stalking up to me.
“I—I’m not supposed to...” I took a step back, ghostly tears welling in my eyes. “I wasn’t supposed to... Merlin,” I cried, sliding to the ground.
Draco’s demeanor changed from anger to worried and concerned. Not that I noticed through my distress. I felt as if I had just betrayed one of my best friends.
“Y/n, what... what in the world are you talking about?” Draco asked sitting beside me, a failed attempt to reach out and comfort me.
“I promised. I promised I wouldn’t tell what I knew until the time was right,” I sobbed. “Bloody hell, he’ll never trust me again,” I squeaked.
“Who?” Draco demanded.
I looked at him, wide eyed with fear, shaking my head softly. “I... I can’t. I’m sorry Draco,”
I dematerialized and rematerialized in a quiet portion of the castle grounds, away from the rest of the students, among the woods. The trees welcomed me and the further I walked in, the less tied to the castle I felt. I came to a lake and sat beside it. Crying tears that would never fall in my undead state, I stared at the water and my lack of reflection.
“I’m so sorry Sirius,” I wept softly. “I didn’t mean to tell him... I was just defending you,”
“I’m surprised you kept the secret this long,”
Again, I jumped, startled by the voice behind me.
“Hey there Spooks,” Sirius gave a lopsided smile, the years in Azkaban resting in his eyes and in the lines on his face.
“Sirius,” I gasped. “What are you doing? It’s not safe here!” I protested.
“I couldn’t leave my girl to cry, now could I?” He smirked, before his expression sobered.
“You should,” I sniffed. “I’m so sorry Sirius, it slipped out,”
“I know,” He held his hands up in a calming effort. “I knew it would, and it’s okay. Who did you tell? It wasn’t Moony was it?”
“No,” I looked down. “But you need to tell him Sirius, he deserves to know,”
“He won’t even talk to me. He thinks that I betrayed James and Lily and killed all of his friends,” Sirius toed at the dirt—the same tick he had in his Hogwarts years when he had been caught in a lie or prank.
“But you didn’t,” I protested. “He still loves you Sirius, I can see it in his eyes and when he talks about you and James...”
“He—no,” Sirius shook his head. “That’s not for you to worry about,”
“Do not make me mother you,” I threatened. “Talk to Remus,”
“I will,” Sirius sighed. “When the time is right,”
“As a girl who’s waited for centuries for the right time... talk to him as soon as you can,” There was a pity-filled look on his face that I brushed off.
“Any luck with that? Your prophecy?” He seemed almost hopeful.
“No,” I sighed. “But there is one who took the time to ask this year. Like Remus did his first year,” The memory was a soft spot for both of us.
“You were his first friend,” Sirius smiled at the same memory. “So, who is it this year?”
“Little Malfoy,”
Sirius snorted. “We both know you don’t have a sense of humor, drop the act,”
“I’m ser—” He gave me a look and I paused to rephrase. “I’m telling the truth. It was Draco who asked, who read my diary, and knows about the prophecy,” I hesitated. “He’s also the one I told,” My gaze dropped to the ground waiting for the backlash.
“Malfoy!?” Sirius demanded. “You told Malfoy!?”
“I’m sorry! I told you I was sorry!” I shouted back, bristling, feeling my body shudder. Sirius seemed to notice and took a few paces away and composed himself.
I dared to speak. “All he knows is that you didn’t kill Peter. That’s all. I’m so sorry Sirius,” I turned, and he was gone. “Fine! Leave!” I shouted. “Like always... like everyone...”
I let out a scream of frustration that was carried away with the wind. Letting out a sigh of defeat I wandered up to the castle again.
“Y/n?” For the third time tonight, I jumped at the call of my name. It was Draco again.
“Draco, look,” I started. “I...”
“No,” He stopped me softly. “I’m sorry... I...” He shook his head and took off down the hall towards the Slytherin dorms. Chasing after him, he was too far gone, and I was face to face with the Baron.
“Oh, could this night get any worse?” I shouted to no one in particular. “I don’t mean to trespass, apologies.”
“Stay out of my territory and away from my students, you little harlot,” The Baron sneered.
“Gladly,” I growled back. “Arse,” I muttered as I ghosted back to the upper levels of the castle.
Utterly lost on what to do, I found myself by the Black Lake, staring up at the moon and stars. I stayed there until the sun rose over the dark waters, painting the valleys in a golden light. I remained there, watching the sun and moon dance in the sky in an unchangeable waltz that continued for eternity.
“They said you were out here,”
I didn’t jump this time at the sound of his voice as the moon rose to her duet again.
“Hello, Draco,” I murmured softly. “Come to watch the stars with me?”
“Sure,” I could hear the smile in his voice as he sat beside me on the bank of the lake, the only sound was the music of the night, the lake lapping at the small beach, and his gentle breaths.
“I... I’m really sorry,” He murmured softly. “For that night, I didn’t mean to get so angry. I wasn’t upset with you...” Silence fell softly between us. “My parents never told me... I wrote to my mother...” My eyes widened as I gazed over at him, his pale skin almost having the same affect that mine did in the moon light. “I never knew...”
“I’m sorry,” I offered.
“Merlin don’t apologize to me,” He laughed hopelessly.
“Well I did sort of freak out on you, so... sorry.”
He shrugged and his gaze fixed on the moonlit water. “My father thinks it’s absurd that I’m talking to you... and I think my mother is slightly worried about me for it,”
“Any particular reason?” I mused.
“Father has always been against those different than him in any way... my mother probably worries that I’m not making friends...talking to ghosts...” A smile toyed at his lips at the mention of his mother.
“Are we not friends then?” I teased lightly, causing him to laugh.
“Sure,” He rolled his eyes at me, this time causing me to laugh. “Do you miss them?” He asked after a quiet moment.
“Who?”
“Your parents... your family?” He seemed almost afraid to ask.
I pondered the question. “Yes, sometimes... but I’ve spent a lot of years wasting tears that will never fall over people I can never see again... you move on and learn to live after a while... well as much as a ghost can live,”
“You can’t cry, can you?” He came to the fact easier and saner than most did.
I shook my head. “I can feel bitter sorrow, the worst loss, but I can never shed a tear,” I chuckled humorlessly. “The irony, I have the most to mourn and I can’t even cry,”
“I’m sorry,”
I shrugged. “I’ve lived a long time without being able to cry... just reminds me that I’ll never be quite human again,”
“But you could be,” He had more hope than I ever had about the fact.
“Yeah,” I scoffed. “That stupid prophecy,”
“I don’t think it’s stupid,”
“You’ve haven’t spent centuries wondering what it meant,” I argued back:
“In the days when evil lurks around every corner;
The condemned will become innocent;
And the innocent will become condemned;
True love can reanimate a deceased heart;
Under the star of Great Dog;
She will become alive as time is altered;
Two souls will be set free that day as the star takes her place.”
“True love,” I scoffed again; my lips pressed together. “Like some sort of stupid fairytale,”
“I thought you said that fairytales weren’t stupid,” Draco raised an eyebrow at me smirking.
“They’re not,” I rolled my eyes. “Believing that there’s true love out there to save me? That’s stupid,”
“Then maybe there’s no hope for any of us,” Draco sighed. “If someone like you can’t find true love, where’s the hope for the rest of us,”
A smile ghosted me lips at his words as I looked over to him, his eyes still trained on the water.
“You’re really sweet sometimes, you know that Malfoy?” His eyes darted to mine as his cheeks tinged pink.
“Will you come back inside?” He asked softly. “The library isn’t as interesting without you there,”
“Sure,” I smiled warmly at him.
Fall turned to winter turned to spring, and Draco and I spent a lot more time together than I cared to admit. He was almost easier to talk to than anyone else I had met. And that was saying something, because I knew Remus Lupin, who was fascinated with my fascination of the young Malfoy.
But all the same, I found myself crave Draco’s company more and more and cursing the Baron for not letting me see him while he was in his dorm. It was rough when he came down with a cold and I wasn’t able to see him for a week. No number of books could distract me from the fact that he wasn’t there to talk to. That he wasn’t here to talk to me. I had never missed anyone like this before.
But when he felt better, we’d press curfew to mere minutes just to get another word in with each other. Then he’d have to be human and I’d have to remember that I didn’t belong in his world and never could. It didn’t stop me, however, from finding and talking to him the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that.
Then there was a day in late spring that caught my attention as Sirius had finally gotten to Harry and his friends, but things had gone from bad to worse as I watched the scene unfold, doing the only thing I could think of, I spirited away to find Remus. He would know what to do, he would know how to help.
After I had explained what I had seen, Remus grabbed his wand and took off towards the Whomping Willow. I followed him, and as soon as I left the castle, I felt the dark presence of the dementors around me.
“No!” I shouted, going up to meet them, and for the first time in a long time gave into my spiritual power, long enough to hold them off and let Remus pass through safely.
I hovered over the Shrieking Shack, keeping the dementors as bay, away from Sirius, away from Remus. They didn’t dare to go near my pure light that was amplified by the full moon. Soon I saw the three of them emerge, Peter in chains, when the light of the full moon hit my little Remus.
With a cry of desperation, I did my best to keep the dementors away as I watched the horrors unfold before me before I couldn’t take it any long and chased after Remus, who was not a wolf into the wood.
“Remus!?” I shouted; my voice lost with the wind. “Remus, it’s me! Please come out!” I caught sight of Hermione and Harry and gestured that they should leave, and quickly. “Remus!?”
I heard a growl and turned, seeing golden scared eyes.
“Hey,” I cooed softly. “You’re alright, you can’t hurt me,”
A pained howl left his lips.
“I know,” I replied. “But you’re going to be alright, let get you back, yeah? To Prongs and Pads, they’re waiting for you.” Tears I wanted to cry weren’t shed at the pitiful heartbreaking whine that left his lips.
But he let me lead him back to the Shrieking Shack all the same. I stayed with him until McGonagall and Dumbledore came. There was a soft thank you from the both of them. I drifted back to the castle, pacing in anxiety.
“Y/n?” It was Draco’s voice. I turned.
“Draco, it’s not safe!” I squeaked. “What are you doing out of bed!?”
“I had to see you,” He confessed. “There are rumors, about Black and Lupin... I thought you’d... Are you alright?”
“Draco, really,” I glanced around, cursing that I couldn’t drag him inside to where it was safer. “It’s not safe for you out here,”
“Bloody hell, Y/n, what about you!?”
“I’m already dead! So, unless you’d like to join me!” I shouted, realizing after the fact what I had said. “Draco, I didn’t mean that,”
“You’re keeping things from me,” It was a broken accusation. “About Sirius, about Remus,”
“Draco, please,” I pulled away. “I... I have to go, I have to make sure that he’s alright,” My eyes trailed up to the top of the tower, knowing that I may have been the reason that Sirius was in chains again.
“No!” Draco shouted, drawing my attention.
He had never demanded anything of me before, not like this. It wasn’t the fact that he told me to stop, it was the notion that he had found his own voice in it that caused me to pause. I waited for him to continue.
“I’ve spent all year, all of my three years here, knowing you, and getting to know you and I’m not going to let you walk away again! I want to know! I don’t want this you can’t tell me act. If anyone, you can tell me. Can’t you trust me? Please,” His voice broke, unshed tears in his eyes.
“Draco,” My non-material heart broke a bit as he stood before me, vulnerable. Shaking and terrified I nodded. “Remus... is a werewolf. Sirius is an Animagus. Peter betrayed the Potters, and Sirius went to confront him. Peter faked his death and killed all those people and it was blamed on Sirius...” In my nervousness I began to ramble:
“...and Sirius and Remus confronted Peter tonight and Harry and his friends were there and I had to fight off dementors so that Sirius would be okay because I couldn’t bear to see him get hurt for something he didn’t do and then I had to go and help Remus because it’s a full moon and he won’t hurt me but for the love of merlin he will hurt you so will you please go inside!”
Draco gaped at me, in utter disbelief.
“Please Draco, go inside,”
“Only if you come with me,” He recovered.
My thoughts for Sirius were forgotten as I took a step closer to him. Instead, all I could see and focus on was the heartbreak on his face and the hand that he held out for me. A hand that I wanted to accept but knew that I couldn’t because I would phase right through him. Never had I loathed being dead so much but in that moment when all I wanted to do was comfort him.
For the first time in almost two hundred years, tears slid down my cheeks. I barely noticed.
“Please,” His voice shook as did his hand as it remained extended to me. “Please, Y/n,”
The moon fell behind the mountains as the sun shed her first light onto us.
And with reckless abandon, I reached out for him, for his hand. In desperation and false hope, closing my eyes, knowing my heart would never break more that in the next few moments for not being a part of his world.
Then my hand felt softness and warmth.
I gasped and jerked back, and Draco seemed to realize this as I did.
“You just...” He stammered.
“I...” Trembling, I held my hand up, the sunlight no longer passing through it but refracting off of it. I finally reached up and felt the wetness of tears on my cheeks as I gasped in pure joy.
“I’m human,” I laughed, “I’m human!” I marveled at my rosy skin and the soft green fabric of my dress as I felt the grass beneath my feet. After a moment, I, at last, looked to Draco, who seemed to be frozen in a state of wonder and disbelief, and almost... scared.
“Draco,” I called softly, “It���s me,” I offered my hand to him, the grin not leaving my face.
“You’re... and...”
I nodded and smiled, taking a step closer to him. “Not scared of ghosts, are you?” I teased softly.
He finally laughed and took my hand, pulling me close, into the comfort of his arms. I began to cry again because for the first time in two hundred and fifty years, I was hugged. I clung to him, my fingers marveling at the softness of his shirt, trailing up into his hair.
“Merlin,” Draco pulled away softly. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,”
Before I could ask him what he meant—or argue that I had been waiting longer than he ever had—he pressed his lips to mine, and in that moment, I swear I could have died all over again in his arms.
.
In the days when evil lurks around every corner,
The condemned will become innocent,
And the innocent will become condemned.
True love can reanimate a deceased heart,
Under the star of Great Dog,
She will become alive as time is altered;
Two souls will be set free that day as the star takes her place.
.
masterlist
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more like this:
beautifully beastly
hufflepuff series
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#Draco Malfoy#Draco#draco x reader#draco x you#draco x y/n#draco malfoy x#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy x y/n#draco malfoy x you#draco x hufflepuff!reader#draco x slytherin!reader#draco x ravenclaw!reader#draco x gryffindor!reader#draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader#hufflepuff#slytherin x hufflepuff#huffleproud#Hermione Granger#Gryffindor#ravenclaw x slytherin#draco malfoy x ravenclaw!reader#ravenclaw#slytherin#Slytherin x Gryffindor#draco redemption#draco malfoy redemption#redeem slytherin#redeem draco malfoy#Harry Potter#Harry Potter rewrite
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So as I said I would like to make a post as to why I’m thinking about deleting this account before like I said I was dead set on it but now I’m not sure but here are a few reasons for why I’m contemplating it
Number one Im really wishy washy one moment I’ll be so confident in a plot or a story but as I post it I feel like it’s not good enough or I could have done better than I start getting these irrational thoughts like it’s bad or embarrassing and finally I get to the point where I stop writing (hints my 40 drafts)
Another reason is feeling like I have to rush something out even though no one demands me to write and post for some reason I feel obligated or I’m gonna lose readers if I don’t like I said I know I’m the only one that feels that way buts it’s a big hindering point for me
Something else is when I don’t get many comments or asks I feel unimportant like I put a lot of time work and effort for little feedback which is once again all in my head cause you all are literally the best and even if I had just one follower that enjoyed my writing I’d continue for them cause the joy I feel when someone tells me that my writing makes their day is immeasurable
Also I really don’t have any friends on here like there’s no one that I talk to or have connected with and that plays into another on of my problems is that it may seem stupid but I miss my older readers not saying I don’t like my new followers just as much but it’s different when you kinda get to know someone and then they’re are just gone which also makes me feel like a hypocrite cause I’m literally thinking about leaving
Anyways it all sounds really ridiculous if you think about it I mean I just made this account to write but I didn’t know what others things I’d encounter here but the best way I can describe it is I feel lonely and I think that was one of the main reasons for my lack of motivation but I can’t blame anyone cause you all have lives going on and they don’t stop just cause someone posts a fic on tumblr
So those are the more app base problems that I have but as for life in general it’s been really tough all around when I made this account I was only part time but as months went by people from my job quit so I was able to pick up more hours and more hours means more money now typically forty hour jobs are the norm but for me it’s been really tough cause I got hired in October (the day before heeseung’s birthday lol hehe anyways) and my immune system is very weak so I was shifting between first and third shift till October so you could imagine what that was like and it’s still not that much better because of this I don’t eat on proper schedule cause I get home and im so tired I just fall asleep and miss dinner leaving only one meal a day which is lunch with all that being said I’ve lost a significant amount of weight and energy overall so I think that also has a lot to do with my mental status I’ve really just been completely out of it today I was just on auto pilot and it felt terrible cause I had no control over how I feel
I have a lot of emotional stress and family issues that are really bad but I will not talk about that here I typically take out my stress by working and doing things which is the worst way to cope cause my body can not take all the stress I endure nor my mind I’ll usually workout or work extra hard and push myself beyond the limit cause somehow that makes me feel hopeful and motivated to not give up it’s weird but it works
It’s also weird to talk about this here but I feel everyone deserves an explanation for why I feel like leaving
A big problem of mine I’m a huge people pleaser like to an extent that’s almost troubling so I always try my best to accommodate everyone and guess who that leaves on the back burner
Me
And that’s a big problem cause I should always put myself first but I didn’t as I stated before I wrote two of my favorite stories “popcorn” and “angel” angel took ten hours while popcorn took about seven “train ride home” also falls into the category of works I made in just one day I was so excited to post them for everyone hoping it would get a good response and to please my readers at the expanse of me using my whole day off just to write one fic
Overworking has been my downfall since I can remember like I mentioned some time ago I work till the point of satisfaction I push myself to the limit to test myself even if I know I can do it I still have to put my body under some type of physical pain until I’m satisfied an example of this would be a few years ago I used to do sprinting I still do just not as often but I was so driven to beat my previous record that I was out till midnight I ran the same course too many times to count so many times I gave myself a cramp and still kept going I didn’t stop until I beat my record with a cramp and all
This leads me to my stubbornness I just can’t stop even with writers block I continually try to write stories that’s why I didn’t feel like taking a break was an option cause if I know myself I’d just go back and back time and time again in the past I mentioned taking breaks but I never really did I just didn’t post for awhile behind the scenes I was still in fact writing
After awhile I think the positive feedback really kept me wanting to post something about the notifications was almost like an addiction so I kept posting and posting till I eventually went through everything all my plots and idea’s poof gone but I still wanted to please everyone so I continued to post even when I felt it was sub par
I only have a few works I’m proud of but I still beat myself up cause they could have been better overall it’s just I don’t know how to explain it or what’s going on it even feels strange to me one minute I’m up next minute I’m down I think there’s a lot of things to attribute this to such as my lifestyle and just getting older but who really knows
Ultimately the biggest reason is I just feel like I’m not good enough I think that’s what it really boils down to unfortunately I know I’m way too hard on myself and it’s really not this deep but I can’t help it I wanted to share this with everyone to let you know that I really tried my best
And when my best isn’t good enough I can’t help but feel disappointed with myself I’m a perfectionist as well so that doesn’t help my situation in conclusion I’m having a mental battle with myself I think if I can get in tune with my body and mind I could come back stronger and better but as of right now that’s going to take all my effort I am currently working on all these problems I mentioned
Even though it was very tough for me to share my mind with the world it has also been healing and a great experience at times I’m glad there’s a platform for like minded people to meet without any judgement and hostility I’m greatful to everyone who has followed my tumblr journey all I can say is I love you all🤎
Sincerely your hee simp president
#feels a little better to say a few of these things#but as I mentioned saying how I feel is so fucking hard bro#i keep my emotions to myself for so long I don’t know how to let them out and that fucking sucks big man ass tbh🤣#if you made it to the end thank you for your time#once again I love you all so much🤎#the time I spent with everyone here was the absolute best just a reminder that you are all amazing all twelve hundred and fifty of you 🤎
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